Huang Rong from The Return of the Condor Heroes: Brother Jing, let's get a divorce.

Yang Guo took a sip of cold tea, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at her.

"If you don't want me to tell anyone, you'll have to see how you behave." Yang Guo tapped the table with one finger. "First, say something nice."

Cheng Ying gritted her teeth, her face burning. After hesitating for a long time, she finally called out in a very low voice.

"Brother Yang..."

"No," Yang Guo shook his head. "That's how outsiders address each other. Do you need to be so formal with me?"

Cheng Ying dug her ten fingers into the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. She closed her eyes briefly, steeling her resolve.

"My lord..."

"That's not right either." Yang Guo tilted his head to look at her, his tone irritatingly critical. "Wushuang calls me husband, that's because she willingly accepts that title. What about you? All you've been thinking about from beginning to end is how to manipulate me, how to gain the upper hand. Tell me yourself, do you deserve to be called that? Change it."

Cheng Ying opened her eyes, her chest heaving rapidly. She had already backed down this far, but this man still wouldn't stop.

"Don't go too far!"

Yang Guo stood up from his chair and slammed his teacup on the table, splashing water over the rim.

"Excessive? Last night, when you used the Qiankun Technique to drain my yang energy while I was unconscious, why didn't you say that was excessive?"

He took a step closer to Cheng Ying, closing the distance between them to just an arm's length. His voice was low, and he enunciated each word clearly.

"Call me Master. From now on, in private, when no one else is around, you are only allowed to call me Master."

Cheng Ying's face turned pale instantly.

Owner.

On Peach Blossom Island, Huang Yaoshi treated her like his own daughter, teaching her martial arts, music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and nurturing her into a disciple of a chivalrous family with status and refinement.

The title "master" is nothing short of breaking her spine and stomping on it.

She would rather bite her tongue than utter those two words.

The two of them stood facing each other like that.

Yang Guo didn't urge him or rush him; he crossed his arms and waited.

When he was an extra in his past life, a director taught him a saying: Silence is more powerful than lines. If you don't say anything, your opponent will break down on their own.

Sure enough, before Cheng Ying could get a turnaround, footsteps came from outside the door.

Immediately afterwards, there was a knock on the door from the outside.

"My lord, are you inside?"

Lu Wushuang's voice came through the wooden board, clear and distinct.

Cheng Ying's blood suddenly turned cold.

She hurriedly straightened up, wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve, and then tried to pull at the collar that Yang Guo had bent.

My fingers trembled, and it took me two tries to button it up.

Yang Guo's reaction was completely opposite to hers.

He showed no sign of panic, and didn't even change his posture.

He strode over, grabbed Cheng Ying's waist, and pulled her close to his chest, her back pressed against his.

"Answer her." Yang Guo brought his mouth close to her ear, his voice so soft that only the two of them could hear it.

Cheng Ying shook her head desperately.

Her voice was trembling, and if she opened her mouth, Lu Wushuang would definitely hear that something was wrong.

There were two more knocks on the door, even more urgent than before.

"Husband? Cousin? What are you discussing in there? Why is the door locked?" Lu Wushuang's hand was already on the latch, and she pushed hard twice. The door creaked.

Cheng Ying was so anxious that her whole body went limp.

"Let me go..." she whispered, almost pleading, "Wushuang is coming in."

Yang Guo didn't let go; instead, his right hand slipped inside the gap in her belt, and his palm pressed directly against the skin on her lower abdomen.

Cheng Ying took a deep breath, her whole body tense from head to toe.

She tried to struggle, but his left arm held her tightly around the waist, preventing her from moving.

She tried to call out, but Lu Wushuang was right outside the door.

Yang Guo slowly moved his fingertips below her navel, and the yang energy of the Qiankun Technique seeped out from his fingertips, drilling into her skin along the meridians beneath her skin.

The moment that heat touched the remaining mark near the Qi Sea, Cheng Ying's knees buckled for a moment.

"Answer her," Yang Guo said, his lips brushing against her earlobe. "If you don't speak, I'll open the door right now and let her see for herself."

Cheng Ying had no way out.

She gritted her teeth, swallowing back the groan that rose in her throat, and shouted towards the door.

"Wushuang...we're here."

Her voice trembled uncontrollably, becoming hoarse and raspy; even she herself felt that her tone gave her away.

As expected, Lu Wushuang outside the door stopped pushing the door open.

"Cousin, what's wrong with your voice? Is your wound hurting again?"

Yang Guo changed the direction of his finger and circled it around her waist.

Cheng Ying clasped her hands behind her back on Yang Guo's forearms, her ten fingers digging into his flesh, using all her strength to keep herself from making a sound.

"I'm fine... I'm just a little tired." She took deep breaths, trying her best to make her tone sound normal.

"Your husband is helping me regulate my internal energy... We'll be finished soon. After you take a bath, go back to your room and rest. Don't stand outside, or you'll catch a chill."

Lu Wushuang responded from outside the door and didn't ask any further questions.

"Then husband, please come out quickly. I'm tired too, and I'd like you to massage my shoulders."

The footsteps faded into the distance, and the door to the next room creaked shut.

Cheng Ying completely collapsed.

The moment Yang Guo released her grip, her legs gave way, her knees buckled, and she knelt directly on the floor.

Yang Guo stood in front of her, looking down at her.

Cheng Ying knelt there, her hands supporting her on the ground, her hair falling down to cover half of her face.

Sweat trickled down his temples and dripped onto the back of his hand.

His chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.

In those few breaths just now, she truly felt that she was going to die.

If Lu Wushuang pushes the door one more time, and if the latch can't withstand the force and springs open, Cheng Ying's life will end in this dilapidated inn.

"Are you scared now?"

Yang Guo bent down, pinched her chin with two fingers, and lifted her face upwards.

Cheng Ying's eyes were red and swollen, tears clinging to her eyelashes. She looked at Yang Guo's face, unable to utter a single harsh word.

"Will you still try to outsmart me in the future?"

Cheng Ying shook her head repeatedly.

"Where's your mouth? Open it and speak."

Cheng Ying swallowed. Her Adam's apple bobbed, and a tear slid from the corner of her eye, landing on Yang Guo's finger.

She closed her eyes.

"I wouldn't dare... Master."

When those three words were squeezed out of her mouth, she felt her bones cracking.

In the past twenty years, she had never bowed her head like this.

In the martial arts world, who wouldn't give the disciples of Peach Blossom Island some respect?

Now she was kneeling on the floor of a small town inn, calling a man younger than herself "Master".

Upon hearing this address, Yang Guo's cold expression vanished.

He released her chin, placed his palm on the top of her head, and gently pressed it twice.

"That's right. If you had just listened to me earlier, you wouldn't have had to suffer like this."

Yang Guo grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the ground.

Cheng Ying's legs were still trembling, and she could barely stand. Half of her body weight was on his hands.

"Go take a shower and get yourself cleaned up. I'll come over tonight after Wushuang falls asleep." Yang Guo released her arm, took two steps towards the door, then turned back and added, "Don't lock the door."

Cheng Ying kept her head down and didn't look up at him.

She simply nodded.

Yang Guo unlatched the door, opened the door, and went outside.

She was the only one left in the room.

The dirty lantern outside the window was still swaying, its light and shadow falling on the ground through the windowpane, sometimes bright, sometimes dim.

Cheng Ying stood for a while, then moved unsteadily to the bedside and collapsed onto the bedding.

The pillow had a pungent, unpleasant smell of cheap cosmetics that couldn't be washed off.

She buried her face in it, her shoulders shaking, crying silently.

When she was on Peach Blossom Island, she once flipped through an old book in her master's study.

It contains various secret techniques and skills circulating in the martial arts world. Among them, Huang Yaoshi wrote four words on one of them with his vermilion pen: "The Art of Locking Slaves".

She didn't think much of it at the time.

Now she realizes just how heavy those four words are.

The yang energy imprint left in her body by the Qiankun Technique will not dissipate in a short time.

As long as Yang Guo's hand touches those acupoints, she loses control of her body.

What can she offer him in exchange for terms?

What can we use to reason with him?

She considered running away.

Where can we escape to?

The pursuers from the Prince of Tongguan's mansion were still behind them.

She was alone, suffering from internal injuries, and didn't even have the ability to leave Guanzhong.

She had also considered turning against them.

Tell Lu Wushuang everything, so that Lu Wushuang and Yang Guo will fall out.

But everything Yang Guo said was true.

She made the first move last night; she took the initiative to untie her clothes.

If this matter is brought to the forefront and discussed openly, she will still be the one who suffers the most.

At that time, Yang Guo was unconscious, and all the initiative was in her hands.

Even more deadly was Huang Rong.

Yang Guo said he was going to Xiangyang to see Huang Rong.

If he really embellished the story of last night and told Huang Rong about it, how would Huang Rong view him?

My senior sister is a good person in every way, except that she can't tolerate any nonsense.

What she hates most are people who play tricks behind people's backs.

If Cheng Yingruo is accused of "using dual cultivation to seize the leadership of the Quanzhen Sect," her senior sister will not speak up for her.

She had reached a dead end on this road.

Cheng Ying lifted her face from the pillow and stared blankly at a crack in the ceiling for a long time.

Then she wiped away her tears, got out of bed, and began pouring hot water into the wooden tub.

On the other side, Yang Guo pushed open the door to the room next door.

The room was shrouded in mist; the moisture had not yet dissipated.

Lu Wushuang had finished showering, changed into a clean pink outfit, and was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wringing her hair with a towel.

Her left leg, which had been lame for many years, has now fully recovered, and her skin is fair and open, proudly exposed outside the blanket.

Seeing Yang Guo enter, Lu Wushuang threw away the towel, sprang up from the bed, and crashed directly into his arms.

"My lord! You've finally arrived."

She wrapped her arms around Yang Guo's neck and rubbed her face against his chest.

"Has your cousin finished regulating her internal energy?"

Yang Guo helped her sit on the edge of the bed and reached out to brush away the wet stray hairs from her forehead.

"She's recovered. She was very weak from exhaustion, so I told her to rest early."

Lu Wushuang nodded, pressed her face against his neck, and sniffed.

"Husband, why are you sweating so much? Is regulating your internal energy difficult?"

Yang Guo chuckled and gave her thigh a playful pinch.

"It was a struggle. Your cousin is stubborn and always insists on going against me. I had to use all my persuasion and effort to get her to behave."

Lu Wushuang didn't think much of it and touched his face tenderly.

"Thank you for your hard work, my husband. Once we get to Xiangyang, I will definitely master my martial arts. From now on, I will protect you, and no one will be able to harm a single hair on your head."

Looking at the earnest little face in his arms, Yang Guo's anger towards Cheng Ying slowly subsided.

He rolled over and pinned Lu Wushuang to the bed, pressing his forehead against hers.

"You don't need to wait until Xiangyang. You can repay me now."

Lu Wushuang blushed, and her ears burned.

Instead of dodging, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Yang Guo's neck, pulling him down.

"Then please be gentle, my husband."

The night at the inn grew deeper.

In the next room, Cheng Ying was soaking in the slightly chilly bathwater, listening to the faint sounds coming from the wooden wall, and biting her hand tightly.