Even Gift-Giving Can Be Competitive

"This!"

"Brother Yi Feng, this is absolutely unacceptable!"

"We have done nothing to deserve such generosity—how could we possibly accept such gifts?!"

The two old men responded in unison, their faces paling with shock as they vehemently refused.

Their righteous demeanor made it seem as though these two swords were truly extraordinary treasures, and accepting them would incur an immeasurable debt of gratitude.

But such social niceties couldn’t fool Yi Feng.

Though the old men pretended to be principled, their eyes kept darting toward the iron swords.

Their mouths said "no," but their bodies betrayed their eagerness.

The scene reminded Yi Feng of his own childhood, pretending to refuse red envelopes during the New Year.

As someone who had been through it all, Yi Feng was all too familiar with this dance of courtesy. Watching the two old men’s solemn refusals, he couldn’t help but see through their painfully amateur acting.

It was all part of the social game, but it wasn’t particularly annoying.

At the very least, they had the decency to play along, even if the swords were just worthless junk. That alone was already giving him face.

Yi Feng chuckled and feigned a helpless sigh.

"Ah, it seems even you two can’t bring yourselves to take these shoddy swords. Well, I suppose I’ll just toss them away—maybe someone else will find them useful."

The moment the words left his mouth, the two old men froze.

Zui Wuya and Wei Donghai exchanged frantic glances, their eyes brimming with urgency.

These were rare, legendary swords—treasures they had only heard of in tales! Yet Yi Feng, their esteemed senior, was about to casually discard them as if they were trash. His standards were truly beyond comprehension.

Hearing this, neither of them dared to speak further.

Though they couldn’t bring themselves to accept such a lavish gift, the thought of watching it be thrown away was unbearable. They’d spend the rest of their lives regretting it!

Caught in this dilemma, they were both anxious and horrified—unable to accept, yet too pained to refuse.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, they could only stare at each other in silence.

Their act had crumbled at the first test. Truly, their acting skills were lacking.

Yi Feng smirked knowingly and handed the swords over.

"They’re not even that great. Just take them. We’re friends—no need for empty formalities."

Tears welled up in the old men’s eyes as they bowed repeatedly, at least seven or eight times.

With trembling hands, they accepted the swords, their faces a mix of awe and unease.

Holding the blades with reverence, they launched into another round of effusive gratitude, their words pouring out like a rapid-fire barrage.

"Brother Yi Feng, your kindness is something we will never forget! From this day forward, if you ever need anything—whether it’s scaling the heavens or diving into the abyss—we will spare no effort to—"

The flood of flattery was so excessive that even Yi Feng started to blush.

Wei Donghai then pulled out a gourd of wine, his expression brimming with sincerity.

"Brother Yi Feng, I don’t have much to offer in return, but please accept this wine. When I return, I’ll bring more—don’t you dare refuse!"

This was no ordinary wine—it was Chiyan Brew, a rare vintage that even their closest friends seldom got to taste. It took over a thousand years to ferment, and Wei Donghai’s junior brother treated it like his most prized possession.

Yet here he was, willing to part with it just to curry favor with Yi Feng.

Zui Wuya’s eyelids twitched at the sight. Gritting his teeth, he too stepped forward with a deep bow.

"Brother Yi Feng!"

"I also have little to offer, but please accept these wild mountain fruits as a humble token of my gratitude..."

With that, he retrieved a handful of crimson fruits from his spatial ring.

Each one was translucent, wreathed in a faint red mist.

Wei Donghai’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

These were 50,000-year-old Vermilion Fruits—a priceless treasure they had risked their lives to obtain in a secret realm.

Normally, they wouldn’t even dare to smell them except on rare occasions like their centennial birthdays.

This wasn’t just "sparing no expense"—this was cutting out their own hearts and lungs!

Damn.

His senior brother was playing for keeps.

Wei Donghai’s face twisted with frustration, his expression screaming injustice.

Noticing his dismay, Zui Wuya smirked ever so slightly, his eyes flashing with a smug "you’re still too green" look.

In terms of cultivation, he outmatched his junior brother.

And when it came to social graces, he was equally unmatched.

That earlier misjudgment had been a momentary lapse—from now on, he wouldn’t be outdone again!

The two old men now stood shoulder-to-shoulder, each holding out their gifts like rivals in a duel, practically on the verge of throwing hands.

The competition had escalated!

Who would’ve thought that even gift-giving could turn into a contest?

Yi Feng watched, torn between amusement and exasperation, as if witnessing two overgrown children.

It was equal parts ridiculous and endearing.

At this rate, if he didn’t accept their offerings, they might actually start fighting—ruining what had been a perfectly pleasant atmosphere.

Hastily, Yi Feng stepped in and handed over the swords.

"Alright, alright. I’ll accept your kindness. Consider this an exchange—though I’m definitely getting the better deal."

The two old men beamed with joy, showering him with another round of effusive thanks.

"Brother Yi Feng, your magnanimity puts us to shame!"

"Your generosity is beyond compare!"

Despite their advanced age and their earlier hostility, they now stood side by side, all smiles and bows, their moods shifting so fast it was almost comical.

Thankfully, everyone left satisfied.

Each had gained something, and the encounter ended on a warm note.

With the matter settled, the three of them happily made their way back.

Upon returning to the village courtyard, the two old men bowed deeply once more, vowing to bring even greater treasures next time—clearly still locked in their rivalry.

Their retreating figures, jostling against each other like schoolboys after class, left Yi Feng chuckling to himself.

Holding the wine gourd and wild fruits, he felt a sense of contentment.

Life in the village had a way of simplifying even the most profound personalities.

Human connections truly were a wonderful thing.

A simple outing had not only been enjoyable but had also netted him these gifts. Such genuine interactions were a rare delight.

With a faint smile, Yi Feng turned and stepped back into his courtyard.

Night soon fell.

A little wine, some wild fruits, and a bowl of noodles—what more could one ask for?

With a full stomach and a light heart, he slept soundly through the night.

The next morning, refreshed and energized, he stepped out to greet the sunrise.

Feeling invigorated, all he needed was a hearty breakfast to start the day right.

But as he headed toward the kitchen, he heard clattering from within.

Peering inside, he saw Fu Nantian in the midst of an elaborate cooking performance—his movements so flashy they bordered on theatrical. With a spotlight, he could’ve passed for the village’s head chef.

The skill on display was clearly the result of years of practice, not something one could pick up overnight.

Yi Feng watched with amusement, though something soon struck him as odd.

The old man seemed back to normal, no longer obsessing over those ghostly peonies. But today, he was cooking twice the usual amount—two servings of heart-shaped fried eggs and side dishes, neatly packed into two lunchboxes.

Baffled, Yi Feng frowned.

"Old man, why are you making two portions? Planning to eat breakfast with someone?"

Fu Nantian untied his apron with a serene smile.

"Not at all. Ting’er has found herself a sweetheart. I’m merely preparing an extra portion—nothing more."

A sweetheart?

And just "nothing more"?

Yi Feng was dumbfounded.

In both his lifetimes, this was the first time he’d heard of a "backup" making breakfast for their crush’s boyfriend—and doing so with such nonchalance.

What in the world…

Was this old man just that magnanimous, or was Yi Feng simply too young to understand?

At a loss for words, Yi Feng could only stare blankly.

Noticing his confusion, Fu Nantian merely smiled knowingly.

"You're still young and don't understand the intricacies of this."

"What appears to be Ting'er taking a liking to someone else, forcing me to deliver breakfast, is actually her test for me!"

Yi Feng furrowed his brows as Fu Nantian adopted an air of profound mystery.

"Without trials, how can true affection blossom?"

"Ting'er must be filtering out those who truly love her."

"Over the past thousand years, Ting'er has encountered two suitors, but things shouldn't go beyond three—this is the final test. She will surely realize who the right one is!"

"I believe Ting'er will understand!"

Sighing emotionally, Fu Nantian lifted the food box and strode forward with determination.

Watching his retreating figure, one might mistake it for undying devotion.

This level of self-delusion surpassed mortal comprehension, enough to rewrite everyone's understanding of love. Even the greatest romantic minds would struggle to grasp it.

Yi Feng was utterly baffled, staring blankly as the old man walked away...

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

The village now carried an unusual tension.

Though the surface seemed as peaceful and unchanged as ever, the foot of the back mountain was thick with solemnity.

A group of elders had gathered, their sage-like auras completely restrained. Protective formations had been laid, and the atmosphere was grave.

Several figures had already arrived, and Fu Nantian stood among them, waiting solemnly.

The leading elder spoke with gravity.

"Recently, rifts have been appearing repeatedly at the edges of the void, and Void Beasts are emerging in great numbers. A calamity is surely approaching. What are your thoughts, everyone?"