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Word of this Sword Sect\'s Sect Master\'s departure from the sect and his battle in the demon territories had spread across the world. Few knew the exact details of the encounter, but some whispers hinted that the Sect Master had comprehended a remarkable sword strike countless years ago. It was said to possess astounding power, transcending the end of Nepenthe Realm and reaching an unknown level.

Armed with this strike, this Sword Sect\'s Sect Master headed north, accumulating sword intent along the way, and finally arrived in the demon territories, where he engaged in a great battle with the Demon Emperor. It was said that while he unleashed his sword strike, it was only released halfway, with the remaining half inexplicably withheld.

But even so, the fact that this great sword immortal was able to return safely to the Sword Sect was sufficient to explain a great deal.

He also became the second human powerhouse to ever engage the Demon Emperor in battle and return unscathed after all these years.

The first was naturally that Great Liang Emperor.

For a time, the Sword Sect\'s Sect Master\'s reputation soared, and people gained new perspectives on this most mysterious powerhouse in the world.

Sword cultivators of the world felt even greater despair.

They just felt as if this summit of the sword path had grown a little higher.

On the day the Sword Sect’s Sect Master returned to the sect, everyone had wanted to hold a celebration banquet in his honor. However, he declined, and soon after, he went back into seclusion. To this day, there had been no further news of him.

“During his battle with the Demon Emperor, the Sect Master must have gained new insights into that half-unleashed sword strike, which is why he didn\'t fully unleash it. Now that his sword strike has grown even stronger, does he plan to return to the demon territories and battle the Demon Emperor again?”

“What else would he do? Sect Master\'s sword strike is undoubtedly unique in the world, there aren\'t many who are worthy to witness it.”

“If the Sect Master\'s sword strike grows even more powerful, could he possibly kill the Demon Emperor outright?”

“It\'s possible, definitely possible.”

After seeing off his Martial Uncle Qiu Wanli, Yu Xiyi walked alone, wine in hand, toward the back mountain. He walked slowly, taking a sip with every few steps. When he reached the back mountain, he heard several disciples talking casually along the mountain path.

As he listened, Yu Xiyi\'s expression grew increasingly solemn.

When those second and third-generation disciples noticed Yu Xiyi, they all stopped and greeted him. Those closer to him addressed him as Martial Uncle, while others who were not as close respectfully called him Sword Immortal.

Yu Xiyi nodded slightly, saying nothing more as he continued alone toward the depths of the back mountain.

When he reached halfway up, he slowly stopped, gazing out at the sea of clouds beyond the mountain.

The Sword Sect hovered between heaven and earth, vast and magnificent. It was a place both strange and awe-inspiring, making it one of the most breathtaking sects in the world.

Yu Xiyi quickly withdrew his gaze and made his way to the deepest part of the back mountain, where a cave abode lay not far ahead.

The Sword Sect\'s Sect Master\'s closed-seclusion place was considered forbidden ground within the sect. Normally, no Sword Sect disciples would come here, not because anyone was guarding it, but because the place was filled with sword qi. The average sword cultivators would feel uncomfortable just approaching, and as for entering the cave abode itself, even the great sword immortals in seclusion within the sect would not dare claim they could enter without risk.

Standing a distance from the cave, Yu Xiyi took a deep breath, then said softly, “Disciple Yu Xiyi requests an audience with Sect Master!”

Silence.

Yu Xiyi raised an eyebrow slightly, and after a moment\'s hesitation, he proceeded forward.

……

……

Three hundred miles outside the Sword Sect, nestled within the mountains, there was a small village hidden away, where generations had lived by farming, with little contact with the outside world.

Due to its secluded location, spring planting here started a bit later than elsewhere. In the village, the farmers soaked bundles of rice seedlings in water, tying them with dry straw before tossing them nearby, where other farmers would carry them over and plant them in the paddy fields.

This was transplanting rice seedlings.

Although the farmers had done this many times before, they still worked with great care, not daring to be careless. After all, it concerned the harvest for the entire year. If they were not attentive during planting, it could affect the entire family\'s food supply for the coming year, especially when autumn harvest arrived.

While the farmers were busy in the fields, under a nearby tree\'s shade, a tall middle-aged man carrying a peachwood sword stood watching the scene from a distance, his expression calm, as though appreciating the beauty of the rice planting taking place.

Before long, it was noon. The farmers in the fields rose one by one, washing the dirt from their legs with clean water at the edge of the field. Afterward, they paired up in groups of three or five and walked toward the village in the distance where smoke was rising.

Only one farmer remained. After finishing planting the last rice seedling in his hand, he slowly stood up. He did not bother washing the mud off his legs, instead walking barefoot toward the middle-aged man.

“Daoist, where do you come from?”

After walking a few steps, the dark-skinned farmer noticed someone standing nearby, and immediately greeted him with warmth.

The middle-aged man was taken aback for a moment, but then realized that since he was carrying a peachwood sword, it was only natural for the farmer to mistake him for a daoist.

His gaze shifted, and he noticed a small lunch box under the tree, likely the farmer\'s lunch.

Looking at the farmer, the middle-aged man gave a slight nod as a greeting.

The farmer opened his lunch box, which held only a few steamed buns, a small dish of pickled vegetables, and a water flask. This was his lunch for the day.

Just as he was about to take a bite of a bun, the farmer thought for a moment and smiled. “Daoist, have you eaten lunch? If not, care to join me for a bit?”

The middle-aged man had his back facing the farmer. He was originally not planning to respond, but after thinking about it, he turned around and sat down beside the farmer. Taking a bun, he tore off a small piece, and put it in his mouth, saying softly, "Thank you."

The farmer chuckled. “It\'s just a bun, no need for thanks. If you\'re not busy, Daoist, when I finish planting, you could come home with me. I\'ll have my wife bring out some leftover cured meat from last year and give you a proper meal.”

The middle-aged man shook his head. “No need to trouble you.”

The farmer did not press further. He took a few bites of his bun before casually asking, “Seems like Daoist has been here for a while. What are you doing? Cultivating the Dao?”

The middle-aged man said calmly, “Watching you all plant rice.”

The farmer was taken aback and asked curiously, “What\'s there to watch?”

The middle-aged man fell silent for a moment, then asked quietly, “After watching for a long time, I have a question. Might you help me understand?”

“Go ahead and ask. I\'m just a farmer, I don\'t know any grand principles, so if my answer\'s not very good, I hope Daoist won\'t hold it against me.”

Perhaps because his family had lived within these mountains for generations, the farmer knew little of the world beyond and did not feel intimidated by the middle-aged man before him.

He was mostly curious and a bit looking forward to it.

“I imagine you\'ve planted rice year after year, so this isn\'t your first time. Yet, I noticed you don\'t do it casually. Instead, there\'s a certain caution to it. Why is that?”

As the saying goes, practice makes perfect. After doing the same thing hundreds or even thousands of times, one should already know it by heart. Why be so meticulous?

The farmer laughed heartily. “Ah, so that\'s what you wanted to ask! Planting rice is something you can\'t be careless with. Even if we\'ve done it many times, it still requires caution. After all, planting rice seedlings is just the beginning, and we\'ll need to care for it all year. If we mess it up, the harvest won\'t be enough, and the whole family might go hungry next year.”

“We farmers don\'t know much else, but there\'s an old saying passed down through generations: how you treat the crops is how they\'ll treat you. We live at nature\'s mercy - how much rain falls, how long it\'s dry, or how often it floods, none of that\'s in our control. The only thing we can do is tend to the crops earnestly, hoping for a good harvest. The rest, well, that\'s beyond our control.”

The middle-aged man asked, “So no matter how familiar you are with it, you should deal with it seriously each time?"

The farmer scratched his head with a simple grin. “For peace of mind, you know?”

The middle-aged man nodded.

The man then asked again, "After so many years of farming, if you have a year with favorable weather, can you guarantee a good harvest?"

"Not necessarily."

The farmer scratched his head as he said, "I may have been farming for years and should know everything by heart, but even in good years, there are always things I didn\'t do well. Think about it, over the course of a whole year, it\'s impossible to get everything right every single day, to keep an eye on every single crop. Sometimes, if we overlook something, problems arise. I believe Daoist understands this better than I do, so I won\'t go on about it.”

The middle-aged man thought for a moment, then replied, “Understood.”

The farmer gave the middle-aged man a thumbs-up, saying, “You\'re indeed wise, Daoist.”

The man did not respond, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

After the farmer finished his lunch, he noticed that the middle-aged man was still deep in thought and did not disturb him. He simply got up and returned to planting the remaining seedlings.

Just as he had mentioned, farming could not wait; delays could be costly.

The planting days were few and far between, a lesson passed down by their ancestors.

He stayed busy in the fields until dusk, only straightening his sore back and wiping off his sweat when the day had nearly ended. Wiping away his sweat, he washed away the mud before coming up.

He originally thought that the daoist had long left. But when he came over to take his lunch box, he discovered that the daoist was still sitting there in silence.

The farmer hesitated, then tried calling out, “Daoist...”

The middle-aged man returned to his senses, glanced at the farmer in front of him, and smiled, "Thank you."

The farmer looked confused, not quite understanding, but he quickly regained his composure, glanced at the daoist twice, and was somewhat hesitant.

The middle-aged man said, "Just speak your mind."

The farmer felt a bit embarrassed as he asked, "Daoist, since we\'ve met by chance, could you leave a few safety talismans for protection?"

The farmer naturally knew that daoists from outside the mountains were skilled in such things.

The middle-aged man was silent for a moment, then shook his head, "I don\'t know how to draw talismans."

The farmer\'s face fell, looking a bit disappointed. But just was about to speak again when the middle-aged man suddenly reached out. A leaf fell from the tree, and the middle-aged man ran a finger over it, leaving a small mark etched on it. Upon close inspection, it looked like a tiny sword.

"If it\'s for protection, this should be more effective than a safety talisman."

The middle-aged man handed the leaf to the farmer and said, "Place this at home. If any danger really comes, holding this may... perhaps be of some use."

The farmer was overjoyed and carefully took the leaf, looking full of gratitude. "Thank you, Daoist, thank you! Since it\'s late, how about staying tonight..."

Before he could finish, the middle-aged man shook his head. "I\'m heading down the mountain."

Then, the farmer saw the man produce a lantern from seemingly nowhere and start walking down the mountain path.

Watching this, the farmer became even more convinced that this Daoist was no ordinary man, and he cherished the leaf in his hand all the more.

……

……

The middle-aged man descended the mountain, carrying a sword on his back and holding a lantern, moving slowly in silence. Halfway down, he stopped before a particular tree and spoke quietly, “When I was young and practiced the sword, I used all my strength, putting in every bit of effort, delivering over ten thousand strikes each day." “Later, as my skill in the sword path advanced, especially after Nepenthe, did I ever again strike the sword ten thousand times as I did in my youth?"

"When guiding sword qi, at first I was extremely cautious, but gradually became casual. Even an ordinary farmer wouldn\'t dare treat his crops so carelessly. Yet I, who claim to be number one in the world in Sword Dao, hold such a light view of these two words, ‘Sword Dao.’ How am I qualified to comprehend that sword strike?”

Among the countless sword cultivators in the world, only one could ever claim and be recognized as the number one in Sword Dao.

The Sword Sect\'s Sect Master felt a slight shift in his thoughts, and the number one treasured sword in Daoism, Genesis, suspended itself before him.

Looking at this peachwood sword, treasured by all daoist cultivators under the heavens, the Sword Sect\'s Sect Master paused in silence before gently gripping the hilt.

The peachwood sword looked ordinary, even though it was a supreme treasure of Daoism, it remained a sword at its essence. Held by the Sect Master of the Sword Sect, it emitted a faint hum.

Between heaven and earth, a profound aura intertwined with sword qi. The Sword Sect\'s Sect Master stayed silent for a long time, then exhaled a turbid breath, released the sword\'s hilt, and looked up slightly.

His figure dissipated, heading towards Sword Qi Mountain.