The moment Chu Fei paused there, a simple stance with his hands behind his back, the mere presence of the Sword Immortal from the Northern Peak exerted immense pressure on Yue Xiuluo. Already suppressed by Lu Yuan, Yue Xiuluo’s sudden tension led to even more errors in execution. The inevitable result of this continued struggle was a single, magnificent move from Lu Yuan: Raging Winds Sweep Through. His Nourishing Cultivation Sword moved like a tempest, severing Yue Xiuluo's head.

The severed head tumbled across the ground with a dull thud.

The final posture of the Raging Winds Sweep Through strike saw the long sword pointing sharply ahead. At this point, Lu Yuan let out a long breath. Truthfully, during the battle with Yue Xiuluo, he had exhausted nearly all his energy and spiritual power, even pushing himself into a state of slight overdraft, yet he had been oblivious, submerged as he was in the exquisite ecstasy of swordsmanship.

Now, as the mental intoxication of the swordplay receded, an immediate, crushing exhaustion washed over his entire body. As for his spiritual power, it was utterly depleted.

That was too close.

Even with his sword skills having reached such a pinnacle, defeating an enemy two minor realms above him proved exceptionally difficult.

Spiritual power and swordsmanship; one could not be sacrificed for the other.

It was then that Lu Yuan finally noticed Chu Fei: "Ah, Martial Uncle Chu Fei, you're here."

Chu Fei smiled faintly. "Your swordsmanship deserves the term 'superb skill,' but your combat experience is quite lacking. Those of our path must listen with all six senses and observe in all eight directions when engaging an enemy. Martial Uncle has been standing here for quite some time, and you didn't even notice."

"Yes, thank you for the reminder, Martial Uncle. I will pay closer attention to that in the future," Lu Yuan replied.

Chu Fei was quite satisfied with Lu Yuan's response. This nephew was neither arrogant nor impatient; he wasn't letting his superb swordsmanship, which placed him above all others in the tenth generation of disciples, lead to pride. He was truly fine material. He hadn't realized that the usually lethargic Lu Yuan possessed such potential. It seemed Senior Brother Li Yuanbai truly understood that old ginger was spicier.

Chu Fei spoke, "Your swordsmanship is peerless among the tenth generation, but don't become overly complacent. Among the tenth generation disciples, quite a few possess spiritual power surpassing yours, and spiritual power is the foundation of everything. Sword and Qi must be balanced; sword and Qi must be balanced." He was subtly reminding Lu Yuan not to focus solely on swordsmanship while neglecting the cultivation of spiritual power.

The Huashan Immortal Sect comprised five peaks, two of which were dedicated to the Sword Sect.

The Sword Sect pursued perilous, strange, and profound sword techniques. Chu Fei worried that Lu Yuan might fall back into the old ways of the Sword Sect.

"Yes." This was the familiar old lecture. He had heard it countless times from his master while on the mountain, so responding habitually was easier. Arguing would only lead to endless debate, something the lazy Lu Yuan wished to avoid. Furthermore, Lu Yuan had never truly understood the philosophy behind the separation of the Sword Sect and the Qi Sect.

Sword and Qi balanced—wasn't that obvious?

The two sects had once fought fiercely over the plaque for the Hall of Soaring Sword Qi, arguing over whether 'sword' or 'qi' should come first. Such an intense conflict over something so trivial struck him as exhausting.

"Alright, you must be tired. This trial is concluded. Go back and rest well," Chu Fei had intended to lecture a bit more, but seeing Lu Yuan mechanically and conventionally respond while stifling yawns, Chu Fei knew further instruction would be largely fruitless, so he ended his speech there.

Finally, he could rest. He was genuinely exhausted.

His usual slothful habits meant he rarely experienced such fatigue. Cultivating in the subterranean world—a place where demons could attack at any moment—practicing his sword forms, fighting through several battles, and culminating in the fight with Yue Xiuluo had nearly brought him to collapse.

With that, Chu Fei led Lu Yuan, Ye Fang, and Ye Yuan out of the underground realm and toward the surface.

Light, reappeared.

Having stayed underground for so long, encountering such intensely bright light immediately felt almost painful. He squinted, but thankfully, the exit was inside a mountain shrine, sparing him direct exposure to the scorching sun. After a moment, his eyes began to adjust.

"Oh, Martial Nephew Lu Yuan, Martial Nephew Ye Fang, Martial Nephew Ye Yuan, the three of you have finally emerged." As soon as they stepped out of the mountain shrine, they saw the Ninth Generation Sword Immortal, Gu Fei, approaching with a slight smile. "You three did well. You lasted longer than the five true disciples from our Southern Peak."

Gu Fei’s words clearly emphasized the words three, five, and longer.

The implication was that only three remained from the Northern Peak, while the Southern Peak still had five, and the Northern Peak had only managed to linger a moment longer than the Southern Peak, not by much.

This was practically asking for a challenge, seeking a public humiliation. Chu Fei, naturally, would not refuse such an invitation. A smile played on Chu Fei’s lips. "I heard that the five true disciples from the Southern Peak were all defeated by Yue Xiuluo, whereas the three true disciples from our Northern Peak managed to slay Yue Xiuluo."

"What?" Gu Fei froze in astonishment.

"What did you say?" Gu Fei could scarcely believe his ears. Had Chu Fei just claimed that the tenth generation true disciples of the Northern Peak had killed Yue Xiuluo, the Master of the Moon Demon Sect? Impossible. That was Gu Fei’s first reaction—utter disbelief.

Chu Fei smiled. "Apologies, I already said it once. I have no interest in repeating myself now. You can check the remnants on the battlefield to see if I am lying."

——————

Lu Yuan reached the rear courtyard of the Hua Family Rice Shop and collapsed onto the bed with a soft thud.

The bedding was so soft.

He truly wished to sleep deeply, profoundly.

He was truly exhausted this time, more tired than he had ever been in his life. Moments later, he had already drifted off, his sleep dreamless.

He didn't know how long he slept before a slight tickle in his nose caused him to let out a sudden, large yawn and awaken. Lying on the bed, he felt too lazy to move immediately. All he could think of was how wonderful it would be if someone brought him delicious food and fine wine right now. Unfortunately, no one was paying attention to Lu Yuan. He lay there staring blankly for almost an hour before reluctantly getting up to bathe and then eat. The bath wasn't a sudden burst of diligence; it was simply that after days in the underground world fighting demons, his original blue robes were stained with blood, and he couldn't possibly eat while wearing them.

He sat in the small pavilion, holding a flask of wine in his right hand and a smoked chicken in his left, savoring his meal with great relish.

This was how life should be lived—comfortable and leisurely.

The fine wine flowed smoothly down his throat, intensely satisfying.

But what could be done? Lu Yuan knew that as a true disciple, trials were inevitable. Of course, if he chose to give up his position, he wouldn't need trials, but he couldn't easily relinquish the status of a true disciple, which meant access to vast resources and a high standing.

Forget these trivial matters.

As the saying goes: seize the day, drink the wine of today. He took another drink.

The wine was exceptionally smooth and tasted excellent.

(We hit the Sanjiang recommendation today, and tomorrow we might break into the rankings. There will be one more update around midnight tonight. I hope my readers will shower me with their recommendation tickets for tomorrow.)