Green mountains and clear waters.

Waves of rich aroma drifted outward.

Three rabbits were laid upon the grill, dripping oil from their skins. Ninth Junior Brother Ye Fang and Tenth Junior Brother Ye Yuan both watched the rabbits with covetous eyes, especially Ye Yuan, who was practically drooling—it was a truly ignoble, utterly base display.

Lu Yuan cautioned them, “Ninth Junior Brother, Uncle-Master Fang is known as the Gentleman Sword. You ought to show a little bit of the manner of a minor gentleman sword yourself.”

Ye Fang snorted, “I have to put on an act in front of Master. What’s the point of pretending when I’m with Sixth Senior Brother?” His master was the Gentleman Sword, whose every movement and gesture exuded gentlemanly grace, and he held his disciples to the same standard. Unfortunately, Ye Fang was a man whose true nature was buried deep beneath a reserved exterior; the way he acted the part of a minor gentleman sword before his master was, well, heh heh.

That fellow Ye Yuan wasn't any better—lazy and gluttonous.

Of course, one couldn't exactly claim moral high ground either. He himself had been frequently berated by Master Li Yuanbai as a lazy good-for-nothing.

Thus, the three of them were birds of a feather, each one as morally questionable as the next.

After a moment, the fragrance intensified.

Lu Yuan’s hands moved with practiced speed, sprinkling cumin over the meat. This skill was so fluid, it was as if he were handling a sword with no less familiarity.

A short while later, the three rabbits were perfectly roasted.

Just then, three streaks of sword light flashed simultaneously, each aimed precisely at the rabbit its owner had chosen.

The rabbit meat melted in the mouth, incredibly tender, and paired with that yellow wine, it was a supreme indulgence.

Lu Yuan couldn't help but narrow his eyes.

Truly, these were carefree years.

Lu Yuan deeply cherished this atmosphere.

It was said that within the cultivation sects, there were countless feuds and murders; cultivators clashed frequently. The dangers of the cultivation world surpassed those of the martial arts realm by more than a few degrees. But what did any of that have to do with him? He was just a good-for-nothing slacker hiding on Mount Hua’s North Peak, waiting for death while eating handouts. What concern was the difficult path of cultivation to him?

However, sometimes an atmosphere that is too pleasant invites jealousy from Heaven.

And that heavenly jealousy usually manifested in someone intent on causing trouble.

Like right now.

“Oh, isn’t this Sixth Senior Brother?” Following the voice that instantly grated on the nerves, a young man dressed in white, radiating an air of smug conceit, emerged from behind a large tree. This smug, white-robed youth was roughly the same age as Lu Yuan, Ye Fang, and Ye Yuan, yet he arrived solely to shatter the mood.

This conceited youth in white was the eleventh disciple among the tenth generation accepted by the North Peak, named Sima Hao. If one were to be precise, Lu Yuan would call him Eleventh Junior Brother.

The trouble lay precisely in the number eleven.

The Mount Hua Immortal Sect had long established a rule: each of the Five Peaks of Mount Hua could only take in ten core disciples, no more—a regulation set down by the Founding Patriarch, the Sage Tongxiao, five thousand years ago, which no one dared violate. And each peak had several remarkable Elders who passed down their teachings to disciples.

If there weren't too many Elders, it wouldn't be an issue.

But the North Peak happened to boast quite a few formidable Elders, meaning they had long since filled their roster of ten core disciples.

The most renowned generation on the North Peak was perhaps the previous one, known as the Six Sword Immortals of the North Peak.

Lu Yuan’s Master, Li Yuanbai, Ye Fang’s Master, the Gentleman Sword Fang Ru, and Ye Yuan’s Master, the Harmonious Sword Ye Yangrong, were all figures among those Six Sword Immortals. Another of the Six Sword Immortals was Sima Changbai, who had already sponsored his eldest grandson, Sima Hao, as the fifth of the ten core disciples. However, as Sima Hao’s younger grandson grew, he too intended to see his grandson admitted into the top ten core disciples.

The problem was that the ten spots were already full, leaving Sima Hao stuck at eleventh. If he were twelfth, thirteenth, or fourteenth, it wouldn't feel quite so regrettable, but being eleventh—that was maddening; being short by just one position was intolerable.

It must be understood that the treatment for the top ten core disciples and the eleventh was vastly different.

This disparity had been established by the Founding Patriarch: the top ten received substantial resources in elixirs, cultivation methods, and sword arts, resources the eleventh could not dream of comparing to.

Consequently, Sima Hao desperately yearned to be counted among the ten core disciples.

Therefore, Sima Hao also set his sights on one of the existing top ten. The positions weren't entirely immutable; if a disciple performed poorly enough, they could indeed be replaced. But most of the top ten core disciples were not easily intimidated, so Sima Hao fixed his attention on Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan had always been known as a lazy good-for-nothing, somewhat easy to bully.

There was also a contributing factor: his Master, Li Yuanbai, had suffered a severe injury in the past, and his remaining lifespan was now dwindling, not matching the longevity of the other members of the North Peak’s Six Sword Immortals.

This is why Sima Hao dared to pick on Lu Yuan.

And now, Sima Hao had come to provoke him again.

The smug, white-robed youth, Sima Hao, sneered provocatively, “I’ve long heard that Sixth Senior Brother is never inclined to exert himself in cultivation, and his swordsmanship isn’t much to speak of. However, you seem quite interested in the Way of Cuisine. How about this: Sixth Senior Brother should leave the mountain and open a small restaurant down below? I promise I’ll be a frequent patron, and I’ll bring friends along too, so everyone knows just how excellent Sixth Senior Brother’s cooking is.”

Ye Fang and Ye Yuan praised his cooking skills with genuine admiration.

But this conceited Sima Hao was merely mocking him.

Furious, Lu Yuan’s temper flared severely at that moment. Though his own temper wasn't naturally volatile, such blatant provocation was enough to ignite his anger.

The smug, white-robed youth, Sima Hao, continued, “Oh, right, I heard that in six months, there will be the Peak Competition. You and I, and several other martial brothers, will be participating. At that time, I hope Sixth Senior Brother won't hesitate to offer guidance, so this junior brother can witness Sixth Senior Brother’s exquisite swordsmanship.” The words "exquisite swordsmanship" were deliberately emphasized, clearly intending the opposite meaning.

The cultivation world was currently enjoying a period of widespread peace and prosperity.

But a time of peace did not mean a complete absence of conflict; sometimes there were minor skirmishes between sects, and occasionally demons and monsters would appear. The disciples of the five major righteous immortal sects were all required to engage in demon-slaying and monster-extermination. Each sect imposed certain incentives on their disciples to prevent them from becoming overly complacent in comfort.

The five great immortal sects all understood the principle: life breeds in distress, and death lurks in ease.

As for Mount Hua’s North Peak, they held a Peak Competition once every five years.

“At that time, I certainly won't disappoint Martial Brother Sima,” Lu Yuan responded coldly. “By the way, why is Martial Brother Sima in such a rush to praise my cooking? Are you perhaps hoping to eat the chicken in my hand? Too bad, too bad—I’ll toss you a bone as a reward.” He expertly flicked a chicken bone toward Sima Hao.

Sima Hao thrust his sword out to block it, slapping the bone aside with a pa sound.

Lu Yuan murmured softly, “So, Martial Brother Sima actually does want to eat chicken, and not just the bone.”

Sima Hao was trapped in awkwardness. If he blocked the bone, Lu Yuan’s words implied he wanted the chicken. If he didn't block it, he appeared as someone who desired only the discarded bone.

Meanwhile, Ye Fang and Ye Yuan burst into loud laughter, mocking Sima Hao. As Lu Yuan’s loyal friends, they naturally sided with him, joining in the concerted ridicule. Ye Fang and Ye Yuan’s laughter sounded particularly base.

Damn it, Lu Yuan's tongue truly was sharp. But what good will a sharp tongue do you in the North Peak Competition six months from now? Sima Hao spun on his heel and departed.

Once that smug pest Sima Hao was gone, Lu Yuan muttered an oath against bad luck.

It really was terribly unlucky to run into that.

His life on Mount Hua Immortal Sect’s North Peak had always been wonderfully carefree and extremely comfortable. This was the era of peace in the cultivation world, where the sect didn't require disciples to engage in constant battles, allowing for a very leisurely existence. He truly loved this excessively relaxed lifestyle, but damn it, there always had to be some venomous bugs with malicious intentions, like this Sima Hao, always scheming for his position among the ten core disciples.

Even in the most carefree years, there could never be an absolute absence of shadows.

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