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

Enraged, Lu Wushuang grabbed a handful of pebbles from the ground and threw them at Yang Guo.

Yang Guo chuckled and dodged away, then nimbly ran around the fire.

"Stop right there!"

"Why are you standing there? Do you expect me to just stand there and let you hit me?"

"What makes you think my baking is only good for feeding eagles?!"

"Am I wrong, brother? Look how happily that beast is eating."

The eagle did indeed open its eyes, its long beak sniffing around on the stone slab, busy searching for a second piece of jerky.

Lu Wushuang chased after him for two laps but couldn't catch up, so he could only stand there panting heavily, supporting himself on his knees.

Her running posture was much more agile than a few days ago.

Once the meridians in my left leg were unblocked, the strides of both legs finally became synchronized.

In the past, when she was chasing someone, her left leg would always drag half a step behind her when she ran, but now there's no trace of it at all.

Cheng Ying remained seated, barely suppressing a smile.

She rested one hand on the stone slab, while the other unconsciously touched her lower abdomen.

The mark was still burning hot, as if a red-hot copper coin had been stuck to it, and you could feel the heat even through thick clothing.

This heat constantly reminded her that the owner of this body was just three steps away.

Yang Guo was chased so hard that he circled back to the stone slab and plopped down on it.

He casually picked up another piece of snake jerky made by Cheng Ying, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed it vigorously.

Lu Wushuang stood opposite him with her hands on her hips, panting for a while. Seeing his mouth stuffed full, she got even angrier.

"All you ever do is eat what your older cousin makes!"

"Because my cousin's cooking is delicious."

Yang Guo chewed with relish, even making smacking noises on his lips.

Lu Wushuang stomped her foot in anger, turned around and walked to the fire, pushing the remaining strips of raw meat into the fire to roast them again.

This time she learned her lesson and cut the meat strips more evenly, unlike before when they were uneven in thickness.

She imitated Cheng Ying's technique, rubbing Sichuan peppercorns and salt into the meat.

While rubbing the peppercorns, she bit her lower lip tightly, her eyes fixed on the meat in her hands, as if she were accomplishing something extraordinary.

Seeing her serious expression, Yang Guo stopped being sarcastic.

The Divine Eagle was now fully awake. With its wings pressed tightly against its sides, it slowly walked to Lu Wushuang's side.

It brought its head close to the stone slab, its long beak aimed at the pile of raw meat strips that hadn't been cooked yet, ready to bite.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Lu Wushuang slapped its long beak without any hesitation.

The eagle, having been slapped, tilted its head and looked at her in confusion.

Lu Wushuang was actually a little uneasy.

After all, this thing had just beaten the Snake King to a pulp the day before yesterday, and with one wing it could even snap a tree trunk as thick as a bowl in two.

But the Divine Eagle didn't get angry. Instead, it affectionately rubbed against the back of her hand and made a low, muffled cooing sound.

"Don't try to act cute with me."

Lu Wushuang reached out and pushed its head.

"This meat is for my husband, not for you."

The eagle rubbed against her again, and this time it went even further, resting its head directly on Lu Wushuang's lap.

That head must have weighed at least ten pounds, causing Lu Wushuang's legs to suddenly sink.

She was completely stunned.

This silly eagle was incredibly fierce in front of Yang Guo.

Yesterday, Yang Guo tried to touch its head, but was slapped by its wing and stumbled.

Now, it's lying on my lap, as docile as the big yellow dog at the village entrance.

She hesitated for a moment, then tentatively reached out and touched the feathers on the eagle's head.

The texture is not the stiff, feathery feel I had imagined; it's more like a thick, dense blanket.

When your fingers sink in, you can clearly feel the warmth emanating from the skin beneath the feathers.

The eagle comfortably squinted its eyes.

Yang Guo watched for a long time, forgetting to swallow the dried snake meat he was chewing.

"So this idiot is only gentle with women?"

His tone was tinged with sourness as he swallowed the jerky in his mouth with great effort.

"The day before yesterday, my brother went over to touch it, and good heavens, it slapped a wing right in my face, almost slapping me into the pond."

Upon hearing this, Lu Wushuang was so smug that her eyebrows practically flew off her head.

She used both hands to vigorously stroke the eagle's head from head to tail.

"That shows that the eagle has good judgment and knows who is truly good to it."

She raised her chin and looked at Yang Guo.

"My lord, all you do is order people around all day. You make them charge into battle, and carry people on the road. Of course they don't like you."

Yang Guo rolled his eyes helplessly.

Cheng Ying worked quietly beside her, spreading the roasted snake meat slices one by one on a clean stone slab to dry.

Steam rose from the dried meat, and the air was filled with the numbing aroma of Sichuan peppercorns.

She glanced up at Lu Wushuang and Shen Gui's affectionate interaction, then looked at Yang Guo's discomfitured expression, and finally couldn't help but laugh.

She quickly lowered her head, pretending to be arranging the dried meat on the stone slab.

Yang Guo, however, had a sharp eye.

"What are you laughing at?"

He reached out and gently tapped Cheng Ying's lower back.

Cheng Ying's body jerked violently, and the jerky in her hand almost flew out.

I didn't laugh.

"Butler Cheng, my eyes aren't blind."

Cheng Ying pursed her lips and stopped talking, but her ears turned bright red, and even her neck turned pink.

The water plunged down from the ten-zhang-high cliff with astonishing force.

Even from dozens of steps away, the spray of water wets your cheeks, and you have to raise your voice to speak.

Yang Guo stood shirtless on a round rock in the middle of the pool.

Water splashed down on him, making it difficult for him to even open his eyes.

The ground beneath your feet is slippery bluestone, polished smooth by the water over the years, making it as smooth as a mirror. You could easily slip and fall if you weren't careful.

The heavy iron sword was gripped tightly in his right hand.

The weight of seventy or eighty pounds made his arms ache just from walking that distance.

He tried to point the sword at the waterfall.

The force with which the water hit the sword was extraordinary.

The sword tipped uncontrollably to the left, causing a sharp pain in my wrist and a tingling sensation in my bones.

The sword was not sharpened.

A heavy sword has no edge, and great skill lies in its simplicity; it relies entirely on the swordsman's internal strength and physical power to deliver the chopping blows.

When Yang Guo first got his hands on this sword, he didn't believe in superstitions and thought that a sword without a sharpened edge could be of much use.

Now, standing at the foot of the waterfall, he finally understood completely.

Let alone splitting a waterfall, just holding this sword firmly is extremely difficult.

He clenched his teeth tightly.

The two primordial energy beads in the dantian, the red one located in the Heavenly Gang Aperture and the black one guarding the Earthly Fiend Aperture, are currently spinning wildly at the same time.

The pure Yang energy of the Qiankun Technique surged into his right arm along the meridians, causing the muscles under the skin to bulge and the veins to stand out.

"break!"

He roared, gripped the sword hilt with both hands, and swung it up sharply from bottom to top.

The sword's edge pierced the water curtain.

In that instant, the immense water pressure rebounded back along the sword, as if an invisible giant hand had slapped onto its surface.

Yang Guo felt a violent tremor in his arms, and a tiny cut appeared on the tiger's mouth.

The blood that had just seeped out was washed away clean by the rushing water.

The heavy sword only cut in two inches before it could no longer move an inch.

The water, carrying immense force, slammed into his chest.

He slipped and fell into the deep pool, gulping down two mouthfuls of cold water.

After surfacing, he shook the water droplets off his hair and laboriously dragged his heavy sword back to the shore.

The water level was above waist height, and every step required tremendous physical exertion.

Cheng Ying was sitting on a smooth rock on the shore.

Her pink Taoist robe was soaked with moisture, clinging tightly to her body and outlining her graceful waistline.

The tie at the collar, which Yang Guo had torn earlier, was now slightly open.

A large expanse of fair, smooth skin was exposed, and water droplets slid down her neck, eventually disappearing deep into her neckline.

She just sat there quietly, unable to move an inch.

As long as you are three steps away from Yang Guo, the newly formed innate true energy in your dantian will reverse.

She never wanted to experience that kind of pain, like her meridians being twisted like a towel, again after just one time.

Yang Guo walked up to her and deliberately shook the water off his body.

Fine water droplets splashed all over Cheng Ying's face.

Cheng Ying kept her eyes closed and did not flinch.

Water droplets slid down her cheeks and flowed into her open neckline.

"Butler Cheng."

Yang Guo thrust his heavy sword into the ground, the blade sinking half a foot deep into the soil.

"I've been practicing for half an hour, but I still can't split this damn waterfall."

"You, a top disciple of Peach Blossom Island, don't you plan to give your husband some pointers?"

He looked down at her from his elevated position.

Cheng Ying opened her eyes and her gaze fell on Yang Guo's firm chest.

Her gaze slid down an inch along the groove of his abs, and she quickly and hurriedly turned her head away.

"The water flow is continuous; if you try to meet it head-on with force, you will naturally suffer a backlash."

Her voice was very soft, mixed with the rumbling of the water, and could only be heard by careful listening.

"You should cut into the weakest point of the water flow and learn to use the opponent's force against them."

"Using someone's strength against them? That's easier said than done."

Yang Guo stepped forward, squeezing his body directly between Cheng Ying's legs.

Cheng Ying gasped in surprise, her body involuntarily leaning backward, barely managing to stay upright by bracing herself against the rocks with her hands.

Yang Guo reached out and pinched her chin.

His fingertips were covered in calluses from practicing swordsmanship, rough as gravel, which he rubbed back and forth on her delicate lips.

"You've got quite the silver tongue."

He leaned in so close that the tip of his nose almost touched the tip of hers.

His breath sprayed all over her neck.

"My brother is really angry right now."

"Since you're the butler, shouldn't you help cool down my brother?"

Cheng Ying felt weak all over.

The mark in his dantian became scalding hot the moment he approached, as if a branding iron was pressed against his lower abdomen.

A surge of heat erupted from the mark, flowing through the meridians and throughout the body.

She tried to push him away, but her arms were completely powerless.

She bit her lip hard, and her eyes gradually reddened.

"Brother Yang, please don't do this."

Her voice trembled violently.

"Wushuang is still practicing her skills over there."

"Let her practice, it's none of your business."

Yang Guo's hand slowly slid down her neck.

Cheng Ying gasped, her legs involuntarily clamping tightly around Yang Guo's waist.

She bit her lower lip hard, trying her best not to make any embarrassing sounds.

Yang Guo looked at her forced composure and let out a contemptuous sneer.

"Alright, I'll deal with you later tonight."

He released his grip, turned around, drew his heavy sword, and walked back into the pool without looking back.

Cheng Ying slumped onto the rock, panting heavily.

His Taoist robe was soaked through and felt icy cold against his skin.

But the mark on my lower abdomen was still burning hot, and the heat was still surging outwards in waves.

Her eyes were unfocused, and she was tightly clutching the hem of her Taoist robe.