The towering mountains stretched endlessly for hundreds of li.0

Amid these remote, uninhabited peaks stood an elegant pavilion, with a welcoming pine tree bending down with its branches forward. At the table, tea was set out.0

The swordsman conversed with the Mountain God.0

“Please, have some tea.”0

“Thank you.”0

The swordsman, weary from his long journey, was indeed thirsty.1

There was nothing to worry or be cautious about, nor was there any need to be hesitant or refuse; he took the cup in hand and drained it in one gulp, displaying a bold and straightforward spirit.0

He frowned slightly and placed the cup back down.2

Gurgle, gurgle...0

Water bubbled up from the bottom of the cup, filling it once again.0

“You’re trying to attain enlightenment through martial arts?” The Mountain God looked at him with a smile.0

“How did you know?”0

“I’ve been the god of this place for over a thousand years. This road was once far more bustling than it is now,” the Mountain God said. He pointed to the now seldom-trodden mountain path behind the swordsman, which had no overgrown weeds despite its disuse. 0

He seemed a bit nostalgic as he continued, “In these thousand years, countless travelers have passed through here. Over time, it can get quite dull, so I’ve conversed with some of the finest martial artists.”0

“I see.”0

“I can tell that you’re on the verge of attaining enlightenment through martial arts—just one step away.”0

“Still a long way to go.” The...0