Chapter 41: Don

With Li Mochou gone, everyone gathered in the hermitage, where Cheng Ying prepared the meals; soon, seven or eight delicate dishes were laid out on the table. After eating, Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang washed and dried the dishes and cups.

“Yang Guo, come with me.”

Seeing Yang Guo’s gloom, Gu Qing greeted him warmly.

Yang Guo rose listlessly and followed Gu Qing; before stepping out the door, he glanced back at Xiaolongnu—her beauty untouched, her gaze fixed on Gu Qing—and his heart ached, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

As a child, whenever he cried, he would make his aunt laugh—but now, if he cried, would she laugh at all?

As Yang Guo’s heart ached, he looked up at Gu Qing—and saw Gu Qing nearly laughing.

So infuriating!

“Yang Guo, how many martial arts have you learned?”

Gu Qing asked suddenly.

The question startled Yang Guo slightly. As a protagonist, his fate had been extraordinary: as a child, he learned the Toad Skill from Ouyang Feng; later, he became a disciple of the Ancient Tomb, mastering all its martial arts; he studied much of the Quanzhen Sect’s techniques; then he acquired the incomplete Nine Yin Manual and Ouyang Feng’s inverted Nine Yin; atop Mount Hua, he traded martial arts with Gu Qing and had begun to grasp the internal cultivation within the Nine Yin Manual.

After Gu Qing obtained the Dragon and Elephant Power, he did not conceal it—he taught Yang Guo the complete set.

Now, with Gu Qing asking, Yang Guo reviewed his own martial arts—and suddenly felt overwhelmed: his skills were numerous but scattered, and he could not clearly organize them into a coherent whole.

Yang Guo’s mind grew dazed, until he saw Gu Qing raise a finger—the Soul-Shifting Technique from the Nine Yin Manual—jolting him back to clarity.

“Every martial art you’ve learned is among the finest in the world. To rank them in superiority, you’d first need to reach the level of the Five Greats.”

Gu Qing said.

Yang Guo nodded in agreement.

“But I have a comprehensive outline of all martial arts under heaven—it should help you clarify their structure.”

Having won Xiaolongnu over, Gu Qing now prepared to strengthen Yang Guo by teaching him the outline of the Nine Yin Manual.

Yang Guo was naturally brilliant, a martial genius; after hearing the outline of the Nine Yin Manual a few times, he memorized it. Its principles revealed the fundamental logic of martial arts, and as he listened, insights flooded his mind—like a stream flowing through his thoughts, every technique’s underlying logic now had a reference point.

He pondered this for a full day and night, sorting through every martial art he knew; when his mind cleared, he looked up at the sky—the sun had risen again.

Yang Guo turned and saw Gu Qing stepping out of Xiaolongnu’s room; upon closer look, he noticed no ropes hung inside—realizing the two had already shared a bed—and his expression darkened as he approached.

“Figured it out?”

Gu Qing asked, watching Yang Guo.

Originally, Yang Guo had been so absorbed in sorting his martial arts he’d nearly become a sleepwalker—he’d fainted five times in seven days without clarity. But with the Nine Yin Manual’s outline, he had improved immensely.

Yang Guo nodded and said, “Thank you.”

As a martial artist, he understood the immense value of the Nine Yin Manual’s outline—but he found it hard to feel gratitude toward Gu Qing.

“Guo’er…”

Xiaolongnu stepped out the door and gently warned, “Gu Qing has taught you the outline of the Nine Yin Manual—don’t waste it…”

From her voice, Yang Guo sensed maternal affection—and realized, with sorrow, that a tragic barrier of master-disciple duty now lay between him and Xiaolongnu.

Don’t waste it…

What exactly was Xiaolongnu telling him not to waste? Yang Guo didn’t quite understand—he just didn’t want Gu Qing as his uncle-in-law.

In the side chamber.

Cheng Ying was preparing food when Gu Qing suddenly appeared; seeing only her, he asked, “Where’s Wushuang?”

Cheng Ying stiffened slightly, then said, “She went to beg Xiaolongnu to take her as a disciple. Didn’t you know?” Even as she spoke, she kept working.

Gu Qing of course knew—he had come here precisely because Xiaolongnu was occupied, but Cheng Ying had grown increasingly distant. He came to gauge her attitude; now, after she answered with indifference, he understood: she intended to draw away.

Gu Qing tilted his head slightly, seeing Cheng Ying still wore her disguise mask, and whispered, “We’re already so familiar—shouldn’t you remove the mask and let us see your true face?”

Though the Condor Heroes novel describes Cheng Ying’s beauty less than Xiaolongnu’s, there was a moment when Lu Wushuang quarreled with Huang Rong and said Cheng Ying was prettier than Huang Rong—a remark that struck Huang Rong’s sensitive heart.

Huang Rong’s beauty was said to resemble her mother’s; if Cheng Ying was truly more beautiful than Huang Rong, she must be among the most stunning women in the world.

Cheng Ying glanced sideways at Gu Qing and said, “Xiaolongnu is innocent and pure, her beauty peerless—cherish her. Why bother with this ugly girl like me?”

“Xiaolongnu allows you everything at night—know contentment and find joy.”

Xiaolongnu’s innocence freed her from social constraints; at night, Gu Qing would barge in, demanding kisses, hugs, and caresses—and she, finding pleasure, responded willingly. Yet she still held firm on the final boundary, believing marital relations required a formal wedding.

Cheng Ying, sleeping in the next room with superior internal energy, heard every sound clearly—and thus issued this warning.

“I mean no harm.”

Gu Qing, chastised by Cheng Ying’s blunt words, felt a flicker of embarrassment and said, “You can’t wear that mask forever.”

Cheng Ying gave a light snort in reply.

“So you’re not going to let me see your face.”

Gu Qing said.

“That’s right.”

Cheng Ying affirmed firmly—she was close to Xiaolongnu and could not betray her.

“What if I saw it anyway?”

Gu Qing asked again.

Cheng Ying immediately covered her mask with her hand, fearing he might suddenly tear it off.

“Don’t worry—I won’t force you.”

Gu Qing smiled and said, “I’m just asking hypothetically—what if I did see your true face?”

“If you truly saw it, then it would be my fault.”

Cheng Ying’s voice was elegant yet tinged with pique: “I’ll willingly admit defeat.”

“Good!”

Gu Qing clapped his hands, helped add firewood to the stove, and when the meal was ready, helped carry the dishes to the table. Lu Wushuang had already become Xiaolongnu’s disciple; at the table, everyone was cheerful… except Yang Guo.

“Miss Cheng.”

Gu Qing suddenly spoke: “I plan to forge some Jade Bee Needles. Do you know any blacksmiths nearby?”

Feng Mofeng, a disciple of Taohuadao, worked as a blacksmith nearby—in the original novel, Cheng Ying sought him out.

With this, Gu Qing was about to play his card in the wager with Cheng Ying.

(End of Chapter)