Qin Yun approached the gates of the residence and saw a bald man with a bushy beard standing by the door, holding the reins of a horse.


    "Brother Yun!" The bald man broke into a wide smile, his loud voice booming with excitement.


    Qin Yun stared in astonishment, scrutinizing the man closely. Bald head, thick beard—only his facial features were still recognizable. “You’re Xiaobo? Impossible! That shy and handsome young boy has turned into such a rough-looking brute?”


    Tian Bo had been one of Qin Yun’s closest friends during his youth, a year younger than him. Back then, Tian Bo had been fair-skinned, handsome, and timid.


    Now he was bald, bearded, and brawny?


    "Brother Yun, how can you say that about me?" the bald man, Tian Bo, exclaimed. “That’s so hurtful—it’s breaking my heart!”


    "Cut it out," Qin Yun teased.


    Tian Bo chuckled, and the two hugged each other tightly.


    “Brother Yun, it’s been so long!” Tian Bo said.


    “Yes, it’s been a long time,” Qin Yun replied, releasing his old friend. Then he added with a laugh, “But Xiaobo, you’ve changed so much. I almost didn’t recognize you.”


    “What can I do? My hair started falling out when I turned eighteen, and there was nothing I could do about it,” Tian Bo said helplessly, rubbing his head. “My father was bald, and my grandfather was bald, so I guess I’m destined to follow suit. And this beard of mine grows like crazy. But hey, doesn’t it look imposing?”


    “Imposing indeed,” Qin Yun laughed.


    The friends of their youth had all grown up.


    “Brother Yun, you didn’t even tell me you were back. I only found out because word spread through the Six Gates Bureau that you’d returned. The Master of West Mountain Sword Garden, Young Master Wu Feng, has invited everyone to a gathering today at noon to welcome you back,” Tian Bo said with a grin. “I volunteered to come and pick you up.”


    “A welcome banquet?” Qin Yun was surprised. “You guys are really well-informed.”


    “One person hears, then ten, then a hundred,” Tian Bo replied. “Come on, let’s go. All the old brothers are waiting for you.”


    Qin Yun’s elder brother, Qin An, who was standing by the gate, smiled and said, “Second Brother, your friends are waiting for you. You should go.”


    “Alright, Brother, don’t wait up for me. I’ll probably be back late tonight,” Qin Yun said.


    Soon, the servants brought out a horse, and Qin Yun mounted it, riding off with Tian Bo.


    The West Mountain Sword Garden was located at the foot of West Mountain, just outside Guangling County.


    Riding leisurely, Qin Yun and Tian Bo chatted along the way.


    “When I was younger, I dreamed of traveling the world like you. But with my limited skills, I got scared stiff after seeing a few bloody battles. So, I obediently took over my family’s tavern business. By the way, I recently took in a concubine, and my father’s been pushing me to marry this year,” Tian Bo said, shaking his head.


    “You took in a concubine before getting married?” Qin Yun asked, surprised.


    “Well, she got pregnant, so there wasn’t much choice,” Tian Bo said. “But my father’s thrilled because she gave birth to a boy.”


    “Old Master Tian must be overjoyed. You’re his only son, so he’s counting on you to carry on the family line,” Qin Yun teased.


    As they chatted, the two arrived at a serene lake at the foot of West Mountain. The lake was so calm it resembled a giant emerald, reflecting the mountain. At the far end of the lake stood pavilions and towers, where faint figures could be seen.


    Servants were already waiting by the shore, and upon seeing the two riders approach, they hurried forward to greet them.


    “Young Master Tian, is this Young Master Qin?” a steward asked warmly. “Please, follow me. My master and the others have been waiting for a while.”Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Qin Yun and Tian Bo dismounted, leaving their horses with the servants. They then boarded a small but elegant boat, steered by a beautiful young woman. The boat glided across the still lake like a scene from a fairy tale.


    “I remember the boatman used to be an old man. Now it’s a young lady,” Qin Yun remarked.


    “Young Master Wu Feng always knows how to enjoy life,” Tian Bo replied.


    The West Mountain Sword Garden was originally the private estate of Li Wu Feng, the eldest son of the prominent Li family in Guangling County. Passionate about swordsmanship, he had founded the Sword Garden in his youth, inviting only boys under sixteen to join. Qin Yun had been just ten years old when he was invited. Initially, the Sword Garden had been a casual club for like-minded youths, but over the years, it had grown in influence.


    On the other side of the lake, at the pavilions, a group of young men were drinking and chatting. They noticed the approaching boat.


    “Hahaha…”


    Laughter rang out. “The Sword God is here! The Sword God of our garden has arrived!”


    “Hurry up, Qin Yun! Don’t dawdle!” they called out, laughing and urging him on.


    “Brother Yun, let’s go!” Tian Bo leapt off the boat, sprinting across the water for twenty yards before landing gracefully on the pier.


    Qin Yun chuckled, stepping off the boat. Unlike Tian Bo, he moved effortlessly, barely causing ripples as he crossed the lake, as though taking a leisurely stroll.


    “Brother Qin, long time no see!”


    “It’s been six years! Come, have a drink. We thought you might’ve died out there, but you’re alive and well!”


    The group laughed, handing him a wine flask.


    Qin Yun took it with a smile. “Let’s drink!”


    The old friends from their youth enjoyed an easy camaraderie.


    Around twenty people gathered, drinking and reminiscing.


    “Second Brother, let’s spar! Last time, I lost by a hair. Let’s see if I’ve improved,” one of them suggested.


    “Alright, I’m not afraid of you,” Qin Yun replied.


    The two set their wine flasks aside and leapt onto the lake, sparring atop the water. Sword lights flashed as their figures danced on the rippling surface.


    “Impressive!”


    “Second Brother’s swordplay is even more refined now!”


    “That last move was terrifyingly tricky!”


    The others watched, commenting and cheering as the bout ended with one of them falling into the lake.


    More pairs soon began sparring, turning the lake into a stage for swordplay.


    Drinking, chatting, and dueling—it was the essence of the Sword Garden.


    Qin Yun sipped wine from a bamboo flask while casually chatting with his friends.


    “Where’s Crazy Zhang?” Qin Yun asked, remembering the young man who used to challenge him to sword duels relentlessly. “He was always after me for a match, but I don’t see him here this time.”


    “Crazy Zhang spent his entire family fortune pursuing immortality,” someone answered. “He actually managed to join the Chishan Sect. Unfortunately, he failed to open the immortal gates before he turned twenty. Now, he roams the land aimlessly.”


    “I really admire him,” another added. “When I was younger, I too wanted nothing more than to master the sword and ascend to immortality. But over time, that dream faded. Responsibilities piled up. My father grew old, and the family business needed someone to manage it. I just didn’t have the freedom to chase dreams anymore.”


    “Layers of chains, binding us to the mundane world,” someone murmured, and the group fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.


    Everyone present was a skilled swordsman, most having reached the seventh level of Qi Refinement. Each harbored a longing for the path of cultivation. In their youth, they had been full of ambition, but adulthood had wrapped them in the constraints of daily life. Reaching the ninth level of Qi Refinement was a prerequisite to even glimpse the immortal gates, and among them, only three or four had reached that level. Even then, joining an immortal sect remained an extraordinarily rare and difficult feat.


    “What about Yuqing?” Qin Yun asked, his tone lighter. Yuqing had been the only girl among their Sword Pavilion group.


    “She moved with her father when he was reassigned to Nanming County,” someone replied. “It’s unlikely we’ll see her again.”


    “I heard she got married,” another interjected. “She’s now the wife of a young master from the Guihai family—a prominent clan in Nanming County.”


    “Guihai?” someone echoed. “That family is practically royalty there. But that young master is said to be frail and sickly. I doubt he has many years left.”


    ...


    “What about Luo Bing? Why isn’t he here?” Qin Yun asked.


    “Luo Bing is dead,” came the grim response. “One night, he was leaving a brothel with a friend, both drunk. They were ambushed and killed. No one knows who did it.”


    Qin Yun froze, stunned. The once-proud and ambitious boy he remembered had met such an end?


    ...


    “And Jia Wu? Is he not here either?”


    “He’s dead too,” someone sighed. “On his way back from one of his family’s estates, he encountered a demon. Everyone in his group was slaughtered.”


    Qin Yun’s heart sank as he listened to the grim accounts.


    The brothers of the Sword Pavilion had taken different paths in life. Some had moved away, while others had died. Though they had once been close, with nearly forty members, bonds naturally varied. Over time, gaps in their relationships grew, and some hardly spoke anymore.


    Qin Yun himself had joined the Sword Pavilion at ten, back when his father, Qin Lietu, was just a humble constable. As children, they were strangers, often judging one another by family background. Sons of minor officials or small merchants, like Qin Yun, were often looked down upon.


    Qin Yun’s obsession with the sword had earned him the nickname “Mad Yun,” but he had only forged close bonds with two others who shared similar humble roots: Tian Bo—“Little Bobo”—and Xie Lei, known as the “Maniac.”


    Though several of his peers had died, in this era, death was all too common. Monsters roamed unchecked, and lives were fragile. While saddened, Qin Yun’s feelings were tempered by the reality of the world they lived in.


    “What about the Maniac?” Qin Yun asked Tian Bo, who sat beside him. “Is he off escorting another caravan?”