He had come only to boast—to flaunt that his lifespan exceeded Li Yuanbai’s, and that his disciple was superior to Li Yuanbai’s.

Li Yuanbai remained silent throughout.

After he left, Lu Yuan inquired, and Li Yuanbai smiled faintly. “Let him boast if he must. Besides, in my contest with him, I won long ago. I secured the beautiful Mistress of your Shifu, while he has nothing. Therefore, even if I only have two or three years left to live, I am the victor.”

“Since you are the victor, why bother contending with him further?”

Lu Yuan could only feel increasing admiration. Indeed, his Master was the victor; no amount of Zhao Cangzhi’s boasting could disguise the fact that he was the loser.

This was what it meant to win without a fight.

Admiration, pure admiration. Master is indeed Master; his brilliance is unparalleled.

“As for that Zhao Nan,” Li Yuanbai said, hands clasped behind his back, “I hear he is an outstanding disciple of the Qi Sect’s West Peak. But their sect specializes in Qi cultivation, yet his actual magical attainment level is not as high as yours. What more is there to say? Does he even have the nerve to compare?” Hearing this, Lu Yuan couldn’t help but laugh wryly; it was certainly true.

Li Yuanbai, hands behind his back, walked out of the Everlasting Spring Residence and vanished under the cover of night.

Lu Yuan knew exactly where his Master was headed: to the grave of his Shiniang (Master’s wife). Her death was not an accident. Although his Shiniang possessed unparalleled beauty, her innate aptitude was extremely poor. Even though his Master used many precious medicines to help, her foundation was simply too weak. In the end, she failed to break through the Qi Refining Realm, and thus, limited by the lifespan of that realm, she passed away naturally when her time was up.

Since Lu Yuan began his ascent to the mountain, his Master had frequently visited the Shiniang’s tomb.

In truth, the Master’s own lifespan was drawing short, yet Lu Yuan never sensed deep sorrow from him. Perhaps, if he could reunite with his Shiniang in the next world, he would feel at peace; his only worry was Lu Yuan himself.

Gazing at his Master’s retreating silhouette disappearing into the darkness, Lu Yuan was momentarily unsure what emotion was flickering through his own heart.

The night deepened.

A crescent moon, at some unknown moment, had climbed over the Western Mountains.

The Everlasting Spring Residence grew quieter, and colder still.

——————

One’s life cannot be without sorrow. But to face it with optimism. To spend every day happily—that was his personal creed.

The wine was excellent—a warmed batch of Immortal’s Brew. He had to admit, the Immortal’s Brew sent by Senior Sister Ling truly deserved its reputation as one of the Five Great Wines of the Great Jin Kingdom. It was rich upon the entry, intoxicating the drinker quickly.

The dishes were fine, too. Though not the legendary mutton whose aroma could make even an immortal pause their journey, it was still exceptionally savory tripe.

Good wine, good food, good mood—what more could one ask of life? Taking a sip of wine, chewing a piece of tripe, this was true leisure.

Ah, he forgot to mention the location. This wasn't the Everlasting Spring Residence, but an establishment named the Dexing Restaurant. Although the North Peak generally prohibited hotels, restaurants were permitted. People always needed to eat; even those practicing Bigu Dan (abstinence from grain) enjoyed a proper meal occasionally to vary their palate. As for the wine, Lu Yuan had brought it himself—no one could object to a man bringing his own liquor, surely.

However, at this very moment, an intruder barged in.

Actually, at a time like this, an unexpected visitor wasn't entirely surprising.

The use of "actually" was due to the fact that this person didn't just enter; he strode directly toward the table where Lu Yuan sat.

This was a young man in his early twenties, fair-skinned, quite handsome—the epitome of a pretty boy—dressed in immaculate white robes. The man arrived at Lu Yuan’s table and asked, “Are you Lu Yuan? The disciple of Martial Uncle Li, the Descending Twilight Sword, Lu Yuan?”

Lu Yuan continued sipping his wine and nodded casually. “Yes.”

“My name is Zhao Nan, and Azure Qi Sword Zhao Cangzhi is my Master.” The pretty boy stated. “I’ve come here specifically to challenge you. While it might be considered bullying for me, the Third True Disciple, to fight you, the Sixth True Disciple, I cannot blame the consequence, given that our Masters are rivals.”

So this was Zhao Nan. Most patrons at the Dexing Restaurant had heard of the old feud between Martial Uncle Li and Martial Uncle Zhao from years past. Since the story was so famous, upon hearing Zhao Nan confront Lu Yuan, the crowd immediately started buzzing, anticipating another grand fight.

The closer it got to the Five Hundredth Birthday of Venerable Yuan Yuan, the more populated the North Peak became, and the higher the number of True Disciples. Given the inherent conflicts in ideology between the Three Sects—the Sword Sect, the Qi Sect, and the Sword-Qi Sect—these hot-blooded True Disciples often ended up fighting amongst themselves.

As for the Ninth Generation Sword Immortals presiding above, they naturally did not intervene.

True Disciples needed tempering to grow, and sparring with disciples from other peaks was clearly regarded as a valid form of training.

It was likely the Ninth Generation Sword Immortals were sitting back, watching calmly, waiting to see which peak’s True Disciples proved superior. If a peak’s disciples won the public scuffles, they might receive a mild scolding outwardly, but the Ninth Generation Immortals would secretly be delighted. If they lost, they might say nothing publicly, but the reprimand upon returning would be severe.

Because of this dynamic, fights between True Disciples were a common sight. Now, everyone was about to witness a confrontation between the Third True Disciple of the Qi Sect’s West Peak and Lu Yuan, the Sixth True Disciple of the Sword-Qi Sect’s North Peak.

Zhao Nan finished speaking and waited for Lu Yuan’s response.

In reality, Lu Yuan paid him no mind, continuing to eat and drink undisturbed.

Sipping fine wine, savoring a bite of food—he ate with utter enjoyment, truly like an immortal.

Zhao Nan had never imagined such a scenario: after issuing a challenge, his opponent didn't even acknowledge him, merely continuing to eat and drink.

Zhao Nan felt profoundly insulted. Without hesitation, he drew his sword. His flying sword was the Azure Pine Sword, a longsword of deep emerald green. He activated his sword technique, thrusting directly at Lu Yuan: “Martial Brother Lu, take this!” The sword strikes rained down upon Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan kept drinking the fine wine with his right hand. With a slight movement of his left hand, without even drawing his Yangwu Scabbard, he casually parried a strike, pointing directly at a flaw in Zhao Nan’s attack. Zhao Nan’s impending move was thus exposed, forcing him to abandon the current offensive, reorganize his sword posture, and launch another rolling, swirling assault toward Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan brought a mouthful of tripe to his lips with his right hand, then casually flicked another counter-strike with his left, once again hitting the flaw in Zhao Nan’s sword movement, causing his momentum to collapse.

Zhao Nan reformed his sword offense, only to have it casually dismantled by another strike from Lu Yuan’s left hand. At this moment, Lu Yuan used his right hand to pick up a peanut.

...

Zhao Nan reorganized his sword attack yet again, and it was again broken by a casual thrust from Lu Yuan’s left hand. This time, Lu Yuan’s right hand was busy selecting a piece of tofu.

Zhao Nan finally realized that no matter how he attacked, no matter how he reorganized his sword posture, every offensive was precisely targeted and nullified by a casual movement from Lu Yuan.

If that were all, it might be tolerable. But what was truly infuriating was that Lu Yuan had remained seated the entire time, using only his left hand, and his sword had never left its sheath—he was parrying every attack using the scabbard itself. Meanwhile, his right hand never stopped attending to his meal, alternating between tripe, peanuts, and tofu.

This... This... This... How was this possible?

Lu Yuan, according to rumors, was a lazy, unambitious figure, said to possess no true power. Yet now, in actual combat, Lu Yuan remained seated, eating with his right hand while using his left to deflect every single one of his attacks without even drawing his blade.

Zhao Nan felt like his life was turning into a tragedy. Was the gap between them truly this vast? What was worse, they were in the Dexing Restaurant, with numerous people watching him being toyed with like a monkey by Lu Yuan. Zhao Nan felt his face burning; all sense of dignity was rapidly dissolving.

(A note: After several chapters without tears, I felt it was time to bring out the flowing tears for fellow student Zhao Nan this time.)