"Phew~"

Li Xuanxiao gently exhaled, stabilizing his Nascent Soul cultivation once more.

Cultivation truly becomes more difficult with each step.

Looking back now, he realized his body contained too many things.

The old Li Xuanxiao had already studied rather haphazardly -

alchemy, pharmacology, toxicology.

Now Li Xuanxiao's body housed an additional Nascent Soul,

a lifebound sword,

and had even been acknowledged by a Sword Spirit...

It all felt rather overcrowded.

There were many levels within Nascent Soul cultivation.

For example, his Second Senior Brother claimed to be at the Nascent Soul peak.

Others called themselves Nascent Soul perfection, or half-step Transformation Spirit.

How to explain this simply?

Think of Nascent Soul peak as facing difficult problems from your current grade that seem impossible to solve.

Nascent Soul perfection means there are no problems in your current grade you can't solve.

As for half-step Transformation Spirit? That's still essentially Nascent Soul -

just empty boasting by those who haven't truly reached Transformation Spirit.

Half-step Transformation Spirit means you can solve two problems from higher grades -

the ability to tackle challenges beyond your level.

That's what half-step Transformation Spirit means.

Li Xuanxiao's current Nascent Soul realm remained in a stabilization phase.

After all, he believed this would likely be his limit in this lifetime.

Remembering his last tribulation breaking through from Golden Core to Nascent Soul,

Li Xuanxiao still felt lingering fear.

After completing his cultivation session, Li Xuanxiao visited the Sword Mound to check on the Sword Spirit.

At this moment, the Sword Spirit was cultivating within the Sword Mound.

The mound's center housed a natural sword forge, perpetually burning with earth fire essences.

The Sword Spirit walked through it, stepping onto the Burial Bone Platform.

Upon the platform, one sword stood out prominently -

its blade covered in fine dragon-scale patterns, its hum resembling a weeping dragon's blood.

The Sword Spirit narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Dragon-Slaying Sword," she murmured. Legend said the world's last true dragon had been killed by a Mount Shushan swordsman,

hence the sword's name.

Continuing her walk, the Sword Spirit seemed to be admiring the world's greatest treasures.

"Mountain-Devourer" - a massive sword as wide as a tabletop.

Its previous wielder had followed the Mount Shushan Sect Leader into the Eastern Desolate Demon Territory,

slaying eighteen mountains refined by demonic arts, thus earning its fame.

"Tsk, as expected of Mount Shushan," the Sword Spirit remarked. "Such profound heritage."

Simultaneously, she found it strange that Li Xuanxiao could bring her here.

Given Li Xuanxiao's cultivation level - even without hiding it -

he was merely at Nascent Soul realm.

How could Mount Shushan permit him free access to the Sword Mound,

even bringing an ancient Sword Spirit inside,

without anyone noticing?

When Li Xuanxiao entered the Sword Mound,

he saw the Sword Spirit's true form in the forge -

a rust-covered iron sword being tempered in the natural furnace.

Li Xuanxiao bowed repeatedly before the swords of past masters to show respect,

then approached the Sword Spirit:

"How is it?"

"Excellent," she replied. "I haven't felt this way for tens of thousands of years."

Li Xuanxiao remained skeptical about the Sword Spirit's age claims -

sometimes saying hundreds of thousands, other times just tens of thousands of years.

But one shouldn't directly ask a woman's age.

His gaze fell on the rusted iron sword -

even under the forge's tempering,

the rust showed no signs of melting away.

An ordinary cultivator's sword would have liquefied immediately in Mount Shushan's forge.

The Sword Spirit wore an expression of comfort, as if soaking in a hot spring.

"Exactly like this," she said. "Once I fully recover my strength,

that old emperor from before won't stand a chance against me."

Li Xuanxiao nodded, expressing complete confidence in her.

"People rarely come here," he said. "You can cultivate peacefully,

just don't make too much commotion -

otherwise even ten of my heads wouldn't be enough to atone."

Li Xuanxiao had always operated in shadows, never openly.

Some matters seem light as feathers when unnoticed,

but become unbearably heavy when exposed.

Even if his master wanted to protect him,

the crime of sneaking an outsider into Mount Shushan's Sword Mound

would be enough to sentence Li Xuanxiao to death.

Thus bringing the Sword Spirit back carried tremendous risk -

a risk he took for that fleeting sense of security.

He constantly felt racing against time.

This safety might actually represent danger...

or perhaps he was just being paranoid.

Hopefully he was overthinking.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

The great bell of Mount Shushan's Heaven-reaching Peak rang three times,

signifying the year's end.

Walking back to Silver Sword Peak upon hearing this,

Li Xuanxiao paused momentarily.

Taking a deep breath, he counted on his fingers -

time truly flew.

He was now forty-two years old.

Forty-two - the age of establishment.

Forty years since transmigrating to this world.

How swiftly time passed.

Simultaneously, the Happy Old Man also sighed softly.

"One hundred eight thousand and sixty-one years old...

Have I really lived this long?

Still too little time remains -

merely over a hundred thousand years.

When will my great undertaking be complete?"

Leaning against the railing, he murmured to himself.

..........

Silver Sword Peak.

As Li Xuanxiao prepared to resume cultivation,

Feng Liuli came rushing over.

"Senior Brother! Senior Brother!

Senior Brother Lu wants us to gather at his place."

"Oh?"

What new idea did Lu Ziyin have now?

Soon, Silver Sword Peak's remaining members assembled before Peak Master Lu Ziyin.

Their peak had always had the fewest disciples among Mount Shushan's seven peaks.

Now with Senior Brother Xue Yun and Fifth Senior Brother Yan Zidong dead,

and Zhao Lu having left to become emperor,

their numbers seemed even more pitifully small.

Present were:

Peak Master Lu Ziyin,

Second Senior Brother Pei Qi (whom Li Xuanxiao mentally called "Piggy Pei Qi"),

Third Senior Sister Lin Wanqing,

Fourth Senior Sister (currently traveling outside),

Sixth Senior Sister Yunran (abandoned by a scoundrel, now raising a child alone),

Seventh Senior Brother (confined to Seclusion Cliff for secretly marrying),

Eighth Disciple Li Xuanxiao,

and Tenth Disciple Feng Liuli.

Only seven people remained in this vast Silver Sword Peak -

a rather pathetic sight indeed.

"I've already ordered food delivery from Menial Peak," Lu Ziyin announced.

"Tomorrow marks a new year -

as sect leader, I should say a few words."

Everyone stared at him.

Huh? Not even pretending now?

"Ahem! Ahem!" Lu Ziyin hastily corrected himself,

"As peak master, I should say a few words."

Li Xuanxiao had long practiced letting Lu Ziyin's words enter one ear and exit the other -

just remember to clap afterward.

He took a small sip of wine.

Suddenly, loud banging noises outside startled him badly.