If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

Seeing that the young lady was no longer asking questions, Zhou Ming continued his story.

Heroes from all walks of life gathered at Guiyun Manor, and Guo Jing witnessed for the first time the unfathomable depths of the Central Plains martial arts world.

Zhou Ming recounted these grudges and feuds in the martial arts world very quickly, but he described the appearance of every key figure and every major battle in great detail.

The sun outside the window moved from the east to its zenith, then shifted slightly westward from its zenith.

Chunlan gently refilled the teacup several times, and only ate some snacks at noon.

The story tells of Guo Jing and Huang Rong reuniting on the shores of Taihu Lake. The two were boating on the lake when Huang Rong sang a song called "Shui Long Yin".

When she sang the line "The ancient rivers and mountains remain, but where can one find Sun Zhongmou, the hero?", Su Mingyue tapped her fingertips very lightly on the table, precisely on the beat of the three words "Sun Zhongmou".

Zhou Ming observed this without showing any emotion and continued speaking.

Huang Rong figured out the old beggar's weakness and made him all sorts of delicious food.

Stewed beggar's chicken and eight-treasure fatty duck.

Every dish made Hong Qigong beam with joy, and after eating one dish, he taught Guo Jing a move from the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms.

It is said that Zhou Botong was imprisoned on the island for fifteen years, yet no one ever laid a finger on him.

When Su Mingyue heard the words "Peach Blossom Island," her eyes flickered slightly, as if she had remembered something.

Then came the climax: Guo Jing knelt outside Master Yideng's meditation room in Dali for an entire night, begging Master Yideng to treat Huang Rong, who had been injured by Qiu Qianren's Iron Palm.

The old monk, as thin as a dried bamboo pole, sat on a prayer mat, fingering his prayer beads. His voice was even softer than the sandalwood incense wafting through the temple: "Do you know that if I were to save her, I would lose three years of my own spiritual power?"

Guo Jing's eyes shone brightly in the darkness, and he uttered only four words: "With my life."

Su Mingyue picked up the teacup on the table.

She brought it to her lips and took a sip, but her gaze never left Zhou Ming.

Next comes the Mount Hua Sword Tournament. Zhou Ming recounts how the five great masters—Eastern Heretic, Western Poison, Southern Emperor, Northern Beggar, and Central Divine—gathered at the summit of Mount Hua to vie for the title of the greatest swordsman in the world.

Upon hearing these four words, Su Mingyue frowned slightly, seemingly unconvinced by the concept.

But when she heard that Ouyang Feng had practiced the Nine Yin Manual in reverse and, in his madness, had single-handedly fought against the Eastern Heretic and the Northern Beggar, and even seemed to have the upper hand.

Her brows slowly relaxed, replaced by a focused gaze that bordered on scrutiny.

"Number one in the world," she repeated the phrase softly, as if savoring the weight of those four words, "It's truly laughable."

Zhou Ming wasn't sure if she was talking about a character in a book or something else, so he didn't dare to respond and continued talking.

Guo Jing went from a clumsy, tongue-tied fool to someone who, when facing hundreds of thousands of enemy troops atop Xiangyang City, uttered the eight words, "The greatest heroes are those who serve their country and its people."

He devoted an entire book to depicting the boy's growth.

From the desert to the Central Plains, from the martial arts world to the imperial court, from a foolish boy whom everyone thought was stupid, to a master of the world recognized by Huang Yaoshi himself at the summit of Mount Hua.

"The greatest heroes are those who serve their country and its people." Su Mingyue repeated it again, this time in eight characters.

Her voice was very soft, as if she were talking to herself.

Zhou Ming noticed the light shining in her phoenix eyes, a light he had only seen once before when he first told her the story of the Empress.

But this time, the light was no longer scorching. It was suppressed by something deeper, becoming a very thin and bright film of water that was almost imperceptible without close inspection.

Zhou Ming silently recalled the following plot in his mind; he knew the next chapter by heart.

In his past life, he read novels and watched movies and TV shows over and over again, no less than ten times. Every plot twist was etched in his mind, and he could recount them with his eyes closed.

He was talking about how Guo Jing accompanied Genghis Khan on his westward expedition. When the army was blocked at the city of Samarkand, Guo Jing was appointed as the Noyan and led the army to attack the city.

Using the ingenious plan taught by Huang Rong, he launched a surprise attack at night using parachute descent and captured Samarkand overnight.

When Su Mingyue heard about "Huang Rong's brilliant plan," a very subtle smile appeared on her lips, as if she were proud of the exceptionally clever girl.

Just then, Zhou Ming suddenly felt a heat in his lower abdomen.

He abruptly stopped speaking, his voice catching in his throat for a moment.

Su Mingyue's gaze swept over, the focus in her phoenix eyes still lingering, mixed with a hint of confusion that had just surfaced.

Zhou Ming didn't dare to delay. He took a deep breath, suppressed the heat for the time being, cleared his throat, and continued speaking.

Fortunately, the next part is a large-scale siege scene with few lines.

He used the shouts of Guo Jing commanding the siege and the chaotic scene when Samarkand fell to cover up his pause, and Su Mingyue did not seem to suspect anything.

But the heat did not stop there.

At first, it was in streams, like a trickle flowing into the dantian.

Zhou Ming knew without even looking that another causal chain was breaking.

One, two, three—he didn't know who died, but the number was definitely not small.

He gritted his teeth and persevered as he spoke, fine beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. Su Mingyue probably assumed he was just getting excited talking about the siege and didn't interrupt him.

Then the heat suddenly intensified, no longer flowing in spurts, but in torrents, like a flood bursting its banks, continuously pouring into his dantian.

Zhou Ming felt the ten cyclones within his dantian begin to expand, rotate, and split.

The eleventh cyclone slowly condensed and took shape from the gaps between the ten clumps of air.

Then the twelfth cyclone began to condense.

His dantian felt sore and swollen from being stretched; Zhou Ming didn't have the ability to do two things at once.

Instinctively, even the storytelling voice stuttered.

Su Mingyue tilted her head slightly, her gaze falling on the fine beads of sweat on his forehead, then at his suddenly frozen expression. After a moment, she gently waved her hand.

That's all for today.

"Go back and think things through carefully before you speak."

Her voice was so flat that it revealed no emotion, but Zhou Ming clearly caught a faint smile in her eyes.

It was as if they felt Zhou Ming was running out of ideas and wanted to give him a way out.

She probably thought that Zhou Ming hadn't conceived the story well enough, and that he was improvising when he got stuck halfway through.

However, she wasn't dissatisfied. After all, even though the latter half of the story was a bit choppy, it was still many times better than any storybook she had ever heard before.

"Thank you, Miss Xie." Zhou Ming bowed, took three steps back, and turned to walk out of the flower hall.

His legs moved quickly, his gait completely different from that of the Zhou steward who usually pretended to be lame.

Fortunately, the young lady's attention should no longer be on him at this moment.

However, Dongmei, who was listening to the story with her, whispered something.

"A lazy donkey on a millstone produces a lot of excrement and urine."