Huang Rong from The Return of the Condor Heroes: Guo'er, calm down.

The Zhongnan Mountains are steep, and the mountain roads wind and twist among the clouds and mist.

The carriage could only travel halfway up the mountain to the gate. The rest of the way had to be walked.

Normally, this mountain path would be a piece of cake for Huang Rong. But today was different. With each step she took, the soreness in her waist would creep up her spine, leaving her feeling utterly weak.

"Mother, how much longer do we have to walk?" Guo Fu walked at the front, waving a broken tree branch around in her hand, and complained as she turned back, "This Quanzhen Sect is so stingy, they can't even build a decent road."

Huang Rong stopped and, under the guise of wiping away sweat, subtly rubbed her lower back with the back of her hand behind her back.

"Those who cultivate the Tao emphasize arduous training," Huang Rong said, adjusting her breathing to make her voice sound steady. "If you can't even walk this short distance, how will you navigate the martial world in the future?"

Guo Fu pouted, not daring to argue back, and turned to continue climbing.

Yang Guo walked at the back with his bundle on his back, his gaze unabashedly fixed on that pale, beautiful figure.

The mountain wind was strong, making Huang Rong's silk skirt cling tightly to her body, outlining her slender waist that seemed impossible to grasp, and below the waistline, a breathtakingly full curve was formed.

As she climbed the steps, the outline of her long, straight legs was faintly visible through the hem of her skirt. Her hips swayed gently with each step, and the trembling seemed to tell of an unspeakable soreness, making the hearts of those who watched her burn with desire.

Yang Guo quickened his pace and followed.

"Aunt Guo".

He leaned closer, his voice low, "Do you want me to carry you?"

Huang Rong froze, nearly losing her footing. She steadied herself and turned to glare at him fiercely. Her gaze was full of warning, yet rendered harmless by the alluring hint in her eyes.

"You'd better leave on your own," Huang Rong said coldly. "Don't be so disrespectful here."

"I saw that Auntie was having a hard time walking," Yang Guo said innocently. "She didn't sleep well last night, and she climbed mountains today. Even an iron body can't take it. If she gets too tired, Uncle Guo will be worried about her."

Which pot does not open which pot.

Huang Rong's face flushed, and she gritted her teeth, whispering, "Shut up. If you say another word, I'll cut your tongue out."

Yang Guo smiled and said nothing more. He simply walked beside her, his arm raised as if to support her elbow whenever they encountered a steep stone step.

With just a lift, the leverage is used to retract.

Very proper.

But the warmth of that palm seeped through the thin sleeve, burning Huang Rong and making her panic. She wanted to shake it off, but her body was indeed weak, and her legs almost gave way several times. She only managed to avoid embarrassment because of that hand.

The journey left Huang Rong utterly exhausted.

After walking for about half an hour, the view suddenly opened up before us.

A majestic Taoist temple stands atop the mountain, its blue bricks and gray tiles conveying a sense of ancient simplicity and solemnity. Above the main gate hangs a plaque inscribed with the three large characters "Chongyang Palace," written in a vigorous and powerful style.

Outside the mountain gate, several young Taoist priests dressed in dark blue robes were sweeping and cleaning.

Upon seeing the arrival of the guests, a Taoist priest stepped forward and bowed, saying, "Amitabha Buddha. Have you come to offer incense?"

Huang Rong straightened her clothes and regained her dignified expression: "I am Huang Rong from Peach Blossom Island, and I have come to pay my respects to Daoist Qiu Chuji."

Upon hearing the words "Huang Rong of Peach Blossom Island," the Taoist priest's expression changed drastically, and he hurriedly bowed, saying, "So it is Chief Huang who has graced us with her presence. Our master is currently giving a sermon in the hall; I will go and inform her immediately."

After saying that, he turned and ran inside.

Shortly afterward, the bell rang.

Three clear, resonant chimes echoed through the valley.

The gate opened, and a group of Taoist priests filed out. The one in the lead, with white hair and beard, a ruddy complexion, wearing a gray Taoist robe and holding a whisk, was none other than Qiu Chuji, Changchunzi, one of the Seven Masters of Quanzhen.

Behind him followed several middle-aged Taoist priests, each with a steady gait, clearly possessing considerable internal strength.

"Chief Huang!" Qiu Chuji strode over, his voice booming, "It's been years! How have you been?"

Huang Rong stepped forward and bowed, saying, "Greetings, Daoist Qiu."

Guo Fu also bowed, saying, "Greetings, Daoist Qiu."

Yang Guo stood aside, his gaze sweeping over the Taoist priests before finally settling on Qiu Chuji. Although the old Taoist was advanced in years, his eyes shone brightly, and his temples bulged high; he was indeed a master.

"Why isn't Jing'er here?" Qiu Chuji looked back and was somewhat disappointed not to see Guo Jing.

"The Mongol army is pressing in, and Xiangyang is in dire need. Brother Jing has taken his two disciples to the front lines to provide support," Huang Rong explained. "I have come here on Brother Jing's behalf to ask him for a favor."

"Oh?" Qiu Chuji's expression turned serious. "Let's go inside the hall and talk."

The group entered the main hall.

The statues of the Three Pure Ones stand tall, surrounded by swirling incense smoke.

After the guests and hosts were seated, a young Taoist priest served them tea.

Huang Rong took out Guo Jing's handwritten letter from her bosom and handed it to Qiu Chuji with both hands: "This is Brother Jing's handwritten letter. You will know it as soon as you see it, Daoist."

Qiu Chuji took the letter, opened it, and read it carefully.

As he looked, his brows furrowed, his gaze became complicated, and he sighed and shook his head at times.

After a long while, he put down the letter and let out a long breath.

"I see."

Qiu Chuji's gaze swept past everyone and landed directly on Yang Guo, who was standing in the corner.

"Come here," Qiu Chuji beckoned.

Yang Guo stepped forward, knelt down respectfully, and kowtowed: "Yang Guo greets Grandmaster Qiu."

Qiu Chuji did not tell him to get up, but instead stood up and walked to him, carefully examining his face.

so similar.

Eyebrows, nose, and even the faint smile at the corners of the mouth.

He's practically identical to Yang Kang back then.

Qiu Chuji was filled with mixed emotions. Years ago, he made a bet with the Seven Heroes of Jiangnan, promising to teach Guo Jing and Yang Kang respectively. As a result, Guo Jing became a great hero, while Yang Kang, whom he had taught, recognized a thief as his father and ultimately met a tragic end.

This was a lifelong regret for him.

"Your name is Yang Guo?" Qiu Chuji's voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Yes. Yang Guo's courtesy name will be changed." Yang Guo lowered his head and looked meek.

"A good name," Qiu Chuji sighed. "Jing'er put a lot of thought into choosing this name for you. To err is human, to forgive divine."

He reached out and helped Yang Guo up, placing his fingers on Yang Guo's wrist pulse.

Yang Guo felt a chill run down his spine and immediately suppressed his aura, firmly holding back the trace of Toad Stance internal energy in his dantian, revealing only a pulse that showed no foundation.

Qiu Chuji probed for a while, then released his hand: "Good aptitude, it's a pity it's been delayed."

Huang Rong said from the side, "Guo'er has a hard life. He has been wandering the world since he was a child. Although he later came to Peach Blossom Island, I only taught him the principles of reading and writing. I did not teach him martial arts. Brother Jing said that Quanzhen Sect is the orthodox sect of Taoism. He wants Guo'er to join Quanzhen Sect so that he can learn some self-defense skills and cultivate his character."

That's a well-said statement.

It both explains why Yang Guo doesn't know martial arts and praises the Quanzhen Sect.

Qiu Chuji nodded: "Jing'er said it all in his letter. Since this child is Kang'er's flesh and blood, I will do my best to teach him. I failed to teach his father well back then, and I must not let him go astray again."

When Qiu Chuji mentioned the word "wrong path," his tone became more serious, and he stared sharply at Yang Guo.

Yang Guo sneered inwardly.

This old Taoist priest, Qiu Chuji, not only failed to teach his disciple properly but also shifted the blame onto him. Yang Kang may not be a good person, but Qiu Chuji is no better teacher. You're nowhere to be seen all year round, only knowing how to make people practice martial arts, never teaching them the principles of being a good person. It's no wonder Yang Kang went astray.

But on his face he looked trembling with fear: "Guo'er will definitely listen to Master Qiu's words, learn martial arts well, and never bring shame to Uncle Guo."

"Alright." Qiu Chuji turned to look at a middle-aged Taoist priest behind him. "Zhiping."

"Disciple is here." The Taoist priest stepped forward.

Yang Guo looked up. The Taoist priest was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a long beard reaching his chest, and a righteous-looking face.

Yin Zhiping.

Wait a minute, shouldn't I be Zhao Zhijing's disciple?

Why did you end up with Yin Zhiping?

Yang Guo felt that things were developing in an unpredictable direction.