At this time, Evan Parker was completely a simple and warm-hearted mountain villager. Those weary travelers, seeing Evan Parker's gentle smile and sitting for a while in his tea shack, found it an excellent way to relieve the fatigue brought on by their long journeys.

Whenever such moments came, those people would always order a big bowl of sweet tea, sitting there to ease their exhaustion and fill their stomachs while chatting idly about everything under the sun. Evan Parker also enjoyed sitting nearby at these times, listening to them talk about interesting stories from all over the country, and incidentally easing the mental tension brought on by his cultivation.

Sometimes, couriers on fast horses would pass by. If Evan Parker was there, he would always hand them a bowl of water and let them fill their stomachs. For these comrades-in-arms from the military, Evan Parker never charged them for tea or food, and these couriers were equally at ease with him, becoming quite familiar over time. As a result, the couriers along this official road always treated this place as an informal rest stop.

With these couriers around, Evan Parker didn’t need to go anywhere to gather news; anything important that wasn’t especially secret, he could basically learn from their mouths. Together with the traveling merchants from all over, he could get a general sense of the major events of the era. Sometimes, he could even ask them to bring back daily necessities like oil and salt from the county town dozens of miles away—things he couldn’t easily get himself.

This place was remote, and the merchants who came here weren’t from big firms or doing large business. Sometimes, venturing deep into barren lands, everyone really needed to help each other out. Although there was a military camp a few dozen miles ahead, responsible for guarding the border, it wasn’t open to civilians. So, this was the only place for small traders to gather after leaving the border camp.

Evan Parker’s cooking skills were quite good. The wild game he hunted himself could always be made delicious using some rustic recipes or methods learned in the army, and everyone who passed by and tasted it would praise it endlessly. After trekking dozens of miles through the mountains, utterly exhausted, being able to drink cool or piping hot tea here and eat such delicious food made all the hardship of traveling through the mountains worthwhile.

Of course, Evan Parker also had a unique skill that amazed everyone. The hands that were used to wielding killing blades in the army were just as adept with a kitchen knife. The kitchen knife that Evan Parker had spent months honing was often tucked at his waist. When needed, Evan Parker would casually take it down and, right in front of the merchants, cut open the wild game they specified.

The kitchen knife glided lightly over the game, making no sound at all. Even when chopping through the bones of larger animals, under Evan Parker’s hand, there wasn’t the slightest sound of blade striking cutting board. It was as if every time, Evan Parker could use just the right amount of force and distance to cut things open, yet never actually touch the board.

Such extraordinary knife skills left these well-traveled people wide-eyed in amazement. For those who passed by several times, eating sometimes became secondary—they always wanted to watch Evan Parker’s knife skills on display.

It wasn’t that Evan Parker was deliberately showing off, but once the knife was in his hand, he couldn’t help but use the techniques most familiar to him. Even after switching to a kitchen knife, this habit didn’t change. Fortunately, the passersby always took it as a chef’s skill, never suspecting it was a killing technique. Still, Evan Parker was careful to conceal much.

What Evan Parker hadn’t expected was that, as he began using this superb kitchen knife to prepare all kinds of game, the feeling in his hands didn’t fade at all; instead, he became more and more skilled. This method, which allowed him to practice his knife skills without revealing his identity, became Evan Parker’s signature, always giving passing merchants an experience akin to witnessing a master’s performance.

Spending almost half his day among these ordinary folk, listening to their joys and worries, Evan Parker felt as if he were a detached observer of the mortal world. However, he had his own pursuits, different from the goals these commoners strove for. He could understand their emotions, but had no intention of adding to his own troubles.

After becoming accustomed to the disturbances of the demon in the Fist Mark Lake, Evan Parker entered a period of rapid recovery in his cultivation, with nothing hindering the restoration of his inner strength and true essence. His cultivation method had been improved; though its power and complexity couldn’t compare to those of the great sects, it was enough as long as it suited him. The endurance and recovery of his meridians exceeded even Evan Parker’s own expectations, so regaining his former strength was a simple matter.

Of course, this didn’t mean Evan Parker could reach the top in one leap. Even without obstacles to recovery, Evan Parker understood the importance of gradual progress. Achieving everything in one go was not in the steady and methodical nature of Evan Parker. Moreover, this was only possible while on the mountaintop; who knew when he would be able to enter the lake again and have a fair contest with that demon.