Mount Hua, North Peak. It was the Qingming Festival season, a time of soaring kites and quickening grass in the third month, a season of blossoming peach and willows dancing in the breeze. The sunlight dappled the forest, exquisitely bright yet gentle on the eyes, warm and lazily suffused. Every living thing in the woods pulsed with the vibrancy of spring. The stream running through the woods was so clear one could see the bottom, rushing downward, either sinking into a pool of deep, silent water or thundering down the mountain gorge so that those below might drink the immortal spring water from the peaks. The doves cooed lightly on the branches; spring wind stirred the willow catkins, the wind like balm, flowers like fire, ten miles of peach blossoms reflecting their red hue.

The magnificent spring scenery spread across the grassy mountain slopes; white clouds drifted lazily by.

A young man in plain green robes held a wine gourd in his left hand, though he wasn't drinking, but rather furrowing his brow in deep contemplation. About thirty feet away, a flying sword hovered and bobbed in the void. By appearances, it seemed to have reached the eighth level of the Body Tempering stage—Sword Control. However, a closer inspection revealed that the flying sword suspended three zhang out did not carry much force. It might manage to cleave a sapling, but using it for distant sword combat against a person was utterly impossible.

Indeed, Lu Yuan took a swig of wine.

The matter of the Wuling Mountain Wusheng Legacy Palace was now fully half a year in the past; time truly flowed like water downstream.

He was now twenty-two years old.

Thanks to the immense fortune gained in the Wusheng Legacy Palace, the Cloud Dragon Ten Transformations had mastered its third transformation. Moreover, he had acquired a significant quantity of Cloud-element spirit beasts—roughly three times the previous number—which vastly increased the throughput of his Cloud Qi essence. The current capacity for inhaling and exhaling Cloud Qi essence likely surpassed that of an average cultivator in the first layer of the Longevity stage, which focused on Qi Inhalation. Yes, the Longevity stage itself was divided into ten layers: the first layer was Qi Inhalation, the second was the Two Thousand Year Realm, followed by eight other layers.

Precisely because of this enormous capacity for essence throughput, it had taken him the better part of a year to advance his Fali from the initial phase of tempering the brain in the seventh layer of Body Tempering to the absolute peak of the seventh layer. His spiritual power had reached an extremely high state, allowing him to remotely manipulate the flying sword.

Sword Control, after all, relied on spiritual power to guide the blade.

But the problem now was, for some unknown reason, even though he stood at the pinnacle of the seventh layer, he could not imbue the sword with much force. Simply put, his spiritual power could enter the sword, but his Fali could not be transmitted into the flying sword, allowing for remote control, but the resulting control was merely an empty frame, lacking the necessary power to inflict harm.

He was currently stuck at a bottleneck—the peak of the seventh layer of Body Tempering, before the threshold of the eighth layer, Void Movement. This barrier was exceptionally difficult to cross. Once passed, he could engage in sword combat at a distance, truly realizing the freedom of the soaring bird and the leaping fish!

The flying sword, thirty feet away, struck a large tree. Instead of cutting it, it merely bumped clumsily against the trunk.

This time, it seemed, was another failure. However, Lu Yuan paid it little mind.

If he failed, he failed.

Failing in sword practice was not a first or second occurrence.

In this world, there was no such thing as a genius who succeeded in mastering any sword art on the first try. Lu Yuan was a genius of the Way of the Sword, yet he frequently failed in his practice.

Taking a swig of wine, he decided failure was nothing to dwell upon. The spring scenery was so perfect; under such bright sunshine and magnificent spring air, enjoying the moment was the supreme way.

Seeing that the time was nearly right, Lu Yuan began his leisurely walk back towards Changchun Residence. Along the way, the gentle drizzle began to fall, a misty rain sprinkling from the heavens. The willows, like a thousand fine threads, stretched out their green branches, vibrant with new life. And the red, yellow, and blue flowers, the green grass, the emerald leaves—all seemed to converge as if for a grand gathering. Little swallows darted obliquely through the fine rain, flitting between the thickets, forming a scene of unparalleled, romantic spring beauty. If one were a painter, this would surely be a masterpiece.

Lu Yuan looked at his hands. His hands generally performed two functions: holding a sword, or holding wine. As for painting, he truly possessed no such skill.

Lu Yuan "fled" the Zhongzheng Pinghe Hall.

He had no choice but to use that verb.

Just inside the Zhongzheng Pinghe Hall, Martial Uncle Yuanyuan had summoned him to lead a team. It turned out there was a group of ordinary disciples with some potential, and Uncle Yuanyuan intended to give them an opportunity—a trial expedition—and needed someone to lead. Should they send one of the Ninth Generation Sword Immortals? That seemed inappropriate; the Ninth Generation were extremely busy managing affairs concerning the Ten True Successor Disciples, and while they might occasionally involve themselves, ordinary disciples rarely warranted their attention. The only one likely to intervene was Chu Fei, as he himself originated from the ranks of ordinary disciples, but Chu Fei was currently overwhelmed with assignments.

By normal standards, this task should have gone to a Ninth Generation Elder. However, for some unknown reason, Ye Yangrong mentioned Lu Yuan’s name, suggesting Lu Yuan lead the group. Venerable Yuanyuan mused that Lu Yuan's current strength was indeed sufficient to lead a team, and perhaps this was a chance to stir Lu Yuan from his prolonged rest and put him to practice. Thus, he summoned Lu Yuan to discuss it. Who knew that as soon as the discussion began, Lu Yuan was scared off? What kind of joke was this?

Leading a team—was that an easy task?

A team meant many people.

And many people meant many opinions.

If you became the leader, you had to consider many viewpoints, resolve numerous problems, and distribute various benefits. Lu Yuan was capable of such things. But being capable did not mean he enjoyed them.

Lu Yuan had always found bother troublesome, feared trouble, and saw no reason to invite such complications. Naturally, he avoided it, wishing neither to endure nor engage with it. After a brief exchange and refusal, he bolted out of Zhongzheng Pinghe Hall.

Martial Uncle Yuanyuan was truly...

He muttered silently against Venerable Yuanyuan. After traversing some paths and drinking half a gourd of wine, he finally arrived back at Changchun Residence.

Changchun Residence was currently deserted, inhabited only by Lu Yuan and his maidservants.

But today, someone had arrived. Uncle Song, who resided at the Dark Sword Villa at the foot of the mountain, had been waiting for some time. Lu Yuan held immense respect for this old man who had served his Master. "Ah, Uncle Song has arrived. Xiao Ju, prepare tea." Xiao Ju was one of the maids at Changchun Residence. After a fine tea was served, Lu Yuan finally inquired about the purpose of Uncle Song's visit.

Uncle Song offered a wry smile. "Regarding Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai, the spirit stones remitted are even fewer than in previous years. In the past year, the two of them have handed over ten spirit stones total—practically nothing."

Ten spirit stones. That truly was a "generous" contribution.

The industries under their control comprised the vast majority of the Dark Sword Villa's assets.

And what they turned in annually amounted to only twenty spirit stones. Even the True Successor Disciples on the North Peak were expected to remit ten spirit stones per year.

It really wasn't just a little bit, Lu Yuan thought with a cold, exasperated laugh. Were Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai causing trouble again? These two men had essentially co-opted Li Yuanbai's former holdings as their own. Two years after his Master’s death, these two had almost completely appropriated the assets. If not for the lack of opportunity, they would have certainly changed the names of the enterprises to bear the surname Shangguan or Nangong.

And not only did they submit such paltry spirit stones, but they always had numerous excuses.

Why were there only this few spirit stones to hand over?

It was simple: their subordinates needed explanations, and they provided them.

For instance, a natural disaster this year; the herb harvest below was poor.

What, you say there was no natural disaster? Oh, the mine shaft experienced vibrations, resulting in many deaths, requiring extensive compensation.

Need more excuses? Fine, they fought over territory; some people died accidentally, requiring more compensation.

Still need excuses? Oh, someone embezzled funds. It was the fault of the subordinates below, who have since been punished, but the embezzled funds cannot be recovered.

In short, excuses abounded, but spirit stones were absent.

When subordinates needed excuses, they could conjure an endless supply; fabricating excuses was too simple. Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai were both seasoned veterans, exceptionally adept at this game of excuses. If you sent someone down to audit or went yourself, they were skilled at doctoring accounts. They were leagues ahead of Lu Yuan, operating on an entirely different level.

Previously, Lu Yuan had let these individuals play their games, as he lacked the authority to suppress those below him; he let them have their schemes.

However, that era should now be history.

Because now, he possessed the ability to crush those below him.

Shangguan Qing, if Lu Yuan remembered correctly, was at the ninth layer of Body Tempering—intelligence inadvertently leaked by Martial Uncle Ye Yangrong. Given Martial Uncle Ye’s sharp insight and intelligence network, he wouldn't be mistaken, or else he wouldn't be managing North Peak intelligence. Nangong Bai appeared to be around the eighth layer of Body Tempering.

Lu Yuan was currently at the peak of the seventh layer of Body Tempering. He was absolutely capable of dealing with both Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai.

He had allowed Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai to cause chaos for long enough; it was time to deal with them.

Lu Yuan was a man of extremely good temper, usually ignoring minor slights. But Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai were different. These two wished to seize the property left by his Master, and their continuous, disrespectful encroachment on the assets over the years had finally ignited his anger. It was time to settle accounts with them.

Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai must be met with severe, iron-fisted measures.

Indeed, for someone as typically placid as Lu Yuan to speak of severe, iron-fisted methods, it spoke volumes: Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai were utterly courting death! Upon hearing Lu Yuan’s declaration, Uncle Song couldn't help but nod in agreement. The spirit and will left by the Old Master of the Dark Sword Villa would not simply vanish. Shangguan Qing and Nangong Bai were indeed seeking their own demise.