Upon this yellow pear wood table rested a large blue and white porcelain bowl.

Pan-fried Mudfish with Chili Paste.

The vivid red chilies immediately awakened the appetite. The mudfish within had long been deep-fried in lard until golden brown. Alongside it were chili peppers, soy sauce, ginger and garlic, scallion segments, and the Eight Immortals sauce—a whole array of seasonings. Before even tasting it, a sudden hunger struck, the craving worms stirring, bringing forth an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Using chopsticks, a piece of the fried mudfish, coated in chili, was lifted and placed in the mouth. The flavor of the mudfish mingled perfectly with the chili—it was an unparalleled delicacy.

Eyes closed in enjoyment.

This was truly supreme bliss.

Savoring every day of life, cherishing every dish—only then would life be lived vibrantly.

What comfort.

After a few bites, he took a sip of wine, washing away the spice, and resumed eating with renewed vigor.

Lu Yuan was thoroughly enjoying his meal here.

However, Li Fang beside him was growing anxious. Although the swordsmanship the Young Master had displayed earlier was quite impressive, even surpassing his own—a single strike had felled all thirteen Eagles of the Sun Family Estate, and he had subsequently captured them—it had also provoked the Sun Family Estate. The Estate Master, Sun Tiangang, was no easy target. In a recent spar, Sun Tiangang had severely injured Li Fang.

By Li Fang’s reckoning, they should now be devising a strategy against Sun Tiangang.

Instead, the Young Master was leisurely savoring delicacies, giving no thought whatsoever to how to deal with Sun Tiangang.

Li Fang was frantic, the anxiety nearly causing internal injury.

But no matter how worried Li Fang became, Lu Yuan remained unhurried and composed.

“Young Master, aren’t you worried at all?” Li Fang finally couldn't help but ask. As an elder, despite being inferior to the junior in swordsmanship, he possessed far greater experience and felt it his duty to warn the Young Master.

“Worried about what?” Lu Yuan asked, puzzled.

“Sun Tiangang will be here soon. He is at the peak of the Ninth Layer of Qi Refining, rumored to be just one step away from attaining the Great Perfection of the Tenth Layer of Qi Refining. His magical power is unfathomable.”

“Oh, just a slightly plump chicken. Didn’t I say before that I wanted to kill a chicken to scare the monkeys? The thirteen Eagles of the Sun Family clearly weren't weighty enough to be the chicken. Sun Tiangang is that fat chicken,” Lu Yuan nodded. As soon as he finished speaking, Li Fang felt an urge to weep. All this time, the Young Master viewed Sun Tiangang as the chicken meant to frighten the others.

Where did the Young Master derive such boundless confidence?

“Such audacious talk, wanting to use me as a chicken to scare the monkeys. I’d like to see who actually ends up killing whom.” A cold sneer drifted in from outside the door, and at that moment, a thin, aged man appeared in the doorway. Li Fang looked over and realized this man was none other than Sun Tiangang. Sun Tiangang had arrived swiftly.

Sun Tiangang was naturally impatient. Upon hearing that all thirteen of his subordinates had been captured by the Li family, he rushed over immediately.

The Li family—what strength did they still possess?

The power stemming from the lineage of the Fading Sword Immortal was on the brink of collapse. To think they still sought to resist his branch—it was laughable.

——————

As soon as Sun Tiangang appeared, he held nothing back, unleashing a sword technique he learned from the Qingcheng Immortal Sect: the Disordered Pine Sword Style. On the surface, this style appeared haphazard, like a flurry of scattered needles, making its attacks unpredictable—a rather competent technique. The Disordered Pine Sword Style flew out immediately, aiming straight for Lu Yuan.

In his mind, Lu Yuan was merely a junior. Though rumored to be a true successor, what true inheritance could someone under twenty possibly possess?

Sun Tiangang’s initial attack was decent; his sword enveloped Lu Yuan, seemingly ready to swallow him whole within the span of his three-foot shining edge.

However, Sun Tiangang immediately realized he was mistaken.

That Lu Yuan could point out his flaws with a casual gesture of his sword. If that were all, it might have been tolerable, but as the exchange of blows continued, Sun Tiangang found he could no longer control his own sword, and slowly, even his movements became subject to external control, as if his actions were being dictated by his opponent's blade.

What kind of sinister sword technique is this? This must be dark magic, dark magic!

If Lu Yuan had known Sun Tiangang’s thoughts at this moment, he would likely have scoffed. A long sword in hand, controlling the opponent’s blade—it would be strange if that wasn't possible.

In truth, when this battle began, Lu Yuan had held high expectations for Sun Tiangang.

Sun Tiangang was a member of the Qingcheng Immortal Sect, one of the Five Great Immortal Sects. Lu Yuan had anticipated him performing a few impressive sword styles, as he had never sparred with anyone from the Qingcheng Sect before and was curious to see their true capabilities. At the start of the fight, he was filled with anticipation.

Yet, up to this point, Sun Tiangang had failed to reveal any remarkable sword techniques, relying only on an unremarkable style.

Lu Yuan then asked, “Do you know the Seventeenth Path of Speed and Slowness Sword Controlling Art, one of the Six Ultimate Swords of the Qingcheng Immortal Sect?” The nomenclature differs between Sword Controlling Art and Sword Style, but they are fundamentally similar. Before one can achieve sword flight, it is called a Sword Style; once one can control the sword to engage the enemy, it is called a Sword Controlling Art. Lu Yuan was accustomed to hearing the Seventeenth Path of Speed and Slowness from Qingcheng, so he habitually called it a Sword Controlling Art even in close combat.

Sun Tiangang naturally shook his head.

“Then do you know the Rain Striking Flying Flower Sword Controlling Art, one of the Six Ultimate Swords?” Lu Yuan asked again. Qingcheng had no hierarchy like the Five Peaks or Six Peaks; their Six Ultimate Swords were essentially equivalent to the paramount techniques held by any single peak in the Huashan Immortal Sect.

Sun Tiangang shook his head again.

“Then do you know the Six Ultimate Swords, such as…”

Sun Tiangang kept shaking his head.

……

Lu Yuan felt a touch of disappointment. He had originally planned to thoroughly test himself against the various sword styles of the Qingcheng Immortal Sect, but it turned out Sun Tiangang knew none of the outstanding techniques. Not only did he lack knowledge of the Six Ultimate Swords, but he didn't even possess any of the superior styles ranked just below them. What a tragedy.

In reality, Sun Tiangang was currently feeling far more despondent. He had come to cause trouble for Lu Yuan, but now, not only was he losing to Lu Yuan, being exposed so easily by a mere gesture of Lu Yuan's sword, and having his movements controlled by the opponent's blade—after all that frustration, he was being interrogated about his mastery of profound sword arts.

What a joke. Never mind the high-level Six Ultimate Swords; he hadn't learned even one of the deep and complex styles beneath them, given his seniority. He wanted to learn them, but he simply couldn't access them. And seeing Lu Yuan’s look of dissatisfaction, he couldn't fathom what Lu Yuan was unhappy about—he hadn’t learned any of the Six Ultimate Swords or any other profound styles, yet Lu Yuan was upset. What exactly was he bothered by?

Sun Tiangang sank into deep sorrow. To have his attempt at causing trouble end like this—he truly was the first person in history to achieve such a feat.

Sun Tiangang felt his situation was tragic enough, but then he heard Lu Yuan sigh, “Alas, never mind. Since you don’t know any interesting sword techniques, let’s stop playing around. Time to end this fight.” Sun Tiangang had genuinely believed he was struggling with all his might to defend against Lu Yuan’s swordplay, and although it was extremely taxing, he felt he had held his ground.

Now, hearing this, it seemed the young man had merely been playing with him from the start, not employing much seriousness at all.

(Some content originally planned for later release has been moved forward. There is a distinction between Sword Controlling Art and Sword Style, but essentially they are the same core technique; the difference lies in execution—one used at close range, the other at a distance. This was intended for release after crossing the one-hundred-thousand-word mark, but it is being released now to avoid accusations of writing mere Wuxia. Naturally, around the hundred-thousand-word mark, there should be content detailing the process of transforming a Sword Style into a Sword Controlling Art. Even within the same technique, the usage differs when applied in close combat versus long-range engagement. Of course, what is revealed today is just the tip of the iceberg regarding the massive concept of transforming Sword Styles into Sword Controlling Arts.)

(Also, allow me to recommend a friend’s book: Ace Director. It’s by Youmen. The author is an established veteran in the entertainment genre, Baiyunsheng’s MJ. Anyone who reads entertainment novels will know this person. His books have a unique flavor. When Entertainment Disciple was abruptly discontinued, it caused me immense agony. Ah, Weng MM.)