LAVW – Chapter 54 Brother Qian Slacks Off

After swearing a Heavenly Dao oath to not reveal any details or specifics about the Sword Sect’s recruitment event, Shi Qian brought his human cultivator, Long Ye, up the mountain.

Honestly, even Shi Qian himself was a bit stunned that he successfully snuck Long Ye into the “new recruit crowd.”

Was it really this easy to talk your way in?

He had just said it casually—he hadn’t actually expected it to work. Shi Qian’s original plan was just to get himself in.

Shi Qian chirped emotionally, “Squeak Squeak.”

As expected of a major sect—so fair and just.

Long Ye nodded, also inwardly shocked.

After all, he was a Nascent Soul cultivator… joining a recruitment event like this was objectively strange.

But Sword Sect or not, recruitment or not, none of that mattered. Long Ye came with Shi Qian because he was moved by the spirit sword.

Now that they were already inside, why bother overthinking?

The Sword Sect’s recruitment had no quota limits, and there wasn’t any sort of “choose one out of two” elimination process. Everything depended purely on the individual’s ability.

Clearing his thoughts, Long Ye looked at the energetic furball who had walked all this way ahead of him. “It’s all thanks to your clever thinking, Brother Qian. Most people wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Shi Qian didn’t even look back. “Squeak Squeak.”

I’m a spirit beast.

Shi Qian knew it was precisely because his perspective was different that his ideas could be unique.

Was this the so-called benefit of not being human?

Unexpectedly, Long Ye added, “Still, you’re really clever. So many spirit beasts out there, but only you thought of this.”

A spirit beast bringing a human—this was absolutely a first in history.

Shi Qian felt a bit embarrassed hearing that. It almost felt like he was bullying all the other spirit beasts and demon beasts out there.

He sped up and quickly arrived at the stone mountain.

But instead of climbing up right away, Shi Qian pulled out a handful of star-silver stone powder. He remembered that when humans rock climb, they usually apply chalk to their hands to increase friction. This powder should work just as well.

As two “dragons,” they could absorb this kind of mineral casually.

Shi Qian smeared some on himself, then handed a handful to Long Ye. “Squeak.”

Brother Ye, here you go.

Long Ye didn’t quite get it, but he followed suit and powdered both hands, then rushed ahead of Brother Qian to start climbing first.

Climbing a stone mountain wasn’t hard for them, of course. But Long Ye suspected this mountain wasn’t just about climbing—it probably had more to it.

As he climbed quickly, Long Ye occasionally warned, “The spot under my right hand is loose—go left.”

“Squeak.”

Got it.

Shi Qian followed right behind Long Ye. One human, one spirit beast, swiftly overtaking the struggling young hopefuls inching their way up.

But the mountain was tall, and the real test hadn’t even begun yet.

Meanwhile, the “Array Master Ancestor,” after letting in the Nascent Soul cultivator, suddenly realized something wasn’t right.

“Isn’t that cultivator’s realm a bit too high?”

“The Sword Tomb’s probably going to get raided again… That guy surnamed Chang won’t blame me, right?”

Turns out, this “ancestor” wasn’t even human. He was a formation spirit.

The formation spirit appeared to be a teenage boy, and his voice sounded like one too.

That earlier deep and mature voice? He’d been imitating the person he referred to as “Chang”—the Sword Sect’s Grand Elder, Chang Youcai.

The formation spirit muttered under his breath, “How can this be my fault? It’s clearly a flaw in their rules.”

But deep down, he knew it was because that kid had been too good with his words—he’d been completely charmed in the moment.

In the blink of an eye, the formation spirit appeared in the Elders’ Hall, cutting off the person speaking with an urgent tone.

“Someone found a loophole in your recruitment rules!”

Chang Youcai, who sat in the left seat of honor, furrowed his brow. “What loophole? Ancestor of the Formations, don’t panic. Explain in detail.”

The formation spirit felt a little guilty when asked like this, but still tried to sound firm. “There’s a spirit beast, under twenty years old, and with sufficient cultivation. It also wants to participate in our Sword Sect’s recruitment.”

“A spirit beast? Can it use a sword?” asked Chang Youcai. After all, to enter the Sword Sect, one naturally had to be able to use a sword.

At that, the formation spirit suddenly remembered—he had forgotten to check.

But that sweet-talking human cultivator had said the spirit beast could use one, so surely he wouldn’t lie.

“It can. I had no choice, so I let the spirit beast in,” the formation spirit said with a helpless tone.

Chang Youcai didn’t think it was a big deal and replied, “No matter. We’ll patch up that loophole later.”

Little did he expect, the formation spirit took his words as an invitation and pressed on, “But then the spirit beast asked me—since humans can bring spirit beasts in, can it bring a human in?”

Chang Youcai’s eyelid twitched. Bad memories of cleaning up this formation spirit ancestor’s messes began resurfacing. He asked, “That human must’ve failed to meet the requirements—how could you let them in?!”

“But the spirit beast made a good point. Other humans can come, why not this one?” The formation spirit wasn’t human either, so he strongly empathized with the beast. “It’s a big sect—we have to be fair.”

“Fine, fine. Tell me then, what’s the situation with this person? Don’t tell me he’s some old fossil.”

“Just twenty or thirty, give or take,” the formation spirit answered vaguely.

Hearing that, Chang Youcai said, “So he’s almost thirty? Barely acceptable, then.”

“But… that human cultivator is in the Nascent Soul stage.”

As the formation spirit spoke, he cautiously observed the expression on Chang Youcai’s weathered face. Due to managing the sect’s finances, Chang Youcai had aged especially quickly in recent years.

“He’s clearly after the spirit sword in the Sword Tomb!” Chang Youcai immediately pinpointed the issue, but he wasn’t angry. Instead, he looked over at Mo Sanchi. “Is it the one you mentioned earlier? Looks like he delivered himself to us.”

Before the formation spirit arrived, Mo Sanchi had already mentioned—Long Ye was a promising seedling and could be taken into the sect under the right circumstances.

To a major sect, encountering such young talents meant you had to act fast. Even someone as tactless as Mo Sanchi understood such basic logic, and even more so the importance of pulling talent into your own camp.

Take this year, for example—the Right Path Heroes Gathering would be held at the Sword Sect.

This Heroes Gathering was closely tied to the responsibilities that rotated every twenty years among the righteous sects. It was essentially an opportunity for each sect to show off and receive gifts—a little reward for all their hard work.

Once the event was underway, the elders had to maintain decorum. If there was any contest or display of skill, it’d fall to the younger disciples to shine.

But Mo Sanchi had to admit—she’d offended Long Ye, and that might make it hard for the sect to recruit him.

Who would’ve thought Long Ye would “walk right into the trap” himself?

Mo Sanchi laughed and said, “So it was Brother Qian who came up with such a clever idea.” Then she added, “Brother Qian is that clever little spirit beast—very cute and straightforward.”

The formation spirit suddenly realized—so this time, he hadn’t made a mistake after all.

He quickly added, “Then I should be credited for this. I’ll go back and keep watch now.”

Though he had left a trace of his spirit at the stone mountain, it was still better to return in person. Besides, watching those little kids cry and struggle was far more entertaining than hanging around the elders’ hall.

With a puff of cloud and smoke, the formation spirit vanished.

Chang Youcai turned his head toward Mo Sanchi and said, “A Nascent Soul under thirty—such a one won’t shame the spirit sword.”

Mo Sanchi didn’t respond. In her heart, she thought: it’s not just Long Ye who went in—Brother Qian did too.

Judging by Brother Qian’s earlier behavior, he’d probably been thinking about the spirit sword for a while now.

When the time came, if the sect accepted a spirit beast as a disciple, the Sword Sect would definitely make waves during the Heroes Gathering. But these thoughts didn’t need to be shared with Elder Chang just yet.

After Mo Sanchi also left the elders’ hall, a communication talisman lit up. She (likely a female disciple) listened to the message, then replied with a single sentence.

Outside the stone mountain.

The senior sister heard the message—“Well done”—and was utterly confused.

She’d led everyone away, yet the little ancestor praised her for doing a good job?

Was something wrong with her… or with the little ancestor?

At the same moment on the stone mountain, Shi Qian and Long Ye were “forced” to separate.

It was unclear how the mountain achieved it, but its form shifted, and Shi Qian could no longer see any trace of Long Ye.

But that was understandable. If he just followed behind Long Ye, how would he be tested? He’d just cruise his way through.

Shi Qian steadied his mind, focused his attention, and began climbing the rocky mountain more cautiously.

“Ah—!”

A piercing scream exploded from above. Shi Qian looked up and saw a figure falling.

But upon closer look—it was a dummy that couldn’t move. Shi Qian withdrew the spiritual energy he had sent out to catch them, and saw the “figure” crash down like a giant boulder, taking out someone below.

Just as he mentally noted, “Dummy—do not save,” another figure fell to his upper side.

This time, it was a sturdy young man, still fighting desperately to grab at the rocky surface. His ten fingers were raw and bloody.

Much more convincing than the unmoving dummy—but he was fake, too.

Shi Qian watched as the boy plummeted to the foot of the mountain, half-dead from the fall, then silently refocused.

Usually, this kind of test followed a “boy who cried wolf” pattern.

So he decided to go against the grain.

Sure enough, the third falling figure soon appeared.

—It was a young girl, around thirteen or fourteen years old, but already showing signs of beauty.

She was dressed in exquisite robes that shimmered with light. Despite her young age and chubby baby face, she looked extremely cute.

Shi Qian even heard the playful tinkling of a bell—immediately recognizing her: Ao Tian’s little junior sister!

Shi Qian acted quickly, using spiritual power to catch the girl mid-fall.

The girl was resilient—she reached out and firmly grabbed a protruding stone, narrowly steadying herself.

But after injuring her hand, her eyes reddened with tears, making her look even more pitiful and adorable.

Catching her breath, the young girl Qiao Mianmian looked up at the white fluffy figure, her eyes slightly dazed. “Th-thank you, senior…?”

Shi Qian: “Squeak Squeak.”

It should’ve been—thank you, big brother.

Of course, that kind of response was originally meant for Long Ye.

Now that it was Shi Qian’s turn, there was no way he’d inspire any girlish admiration. Just confusion.

Shi Qian raised a paw and gave the future little junior sister a “good luck” gesture, then continued climbing upward.

Qiao Mianmian stared up at the departing figure of her “life-saving spirit beast,” eyes fixed in awe.

“Even the Sword Sect’s spirit beasts are this powerful? I must join the Sword Sect.”

Though the first part of the sentence was slightly different, the second part was exactly the same.

Shi Qian nearly slipped in shock when he heard it.

As he climbed, Shi Qian recalled the original plot from when Long Aotian (Long Ye) joined the Sword Sect.

In the original world, Long Aotian hadn’t made it into the Sword Sect during the previous recruitment either. He entered during the same batch Shi Qian was now in.

Originally, the Sword Sect’s recruitment should’ve been held somewhere outside the sect. That location change was likely tied to Mo Sanchi and the other disciples “disappearing” for ten years.

Long Aotian had technically aged out, but was directly transported to the wild mountain used for recruitment. With his late-stage Golden Core cultivation, he was accepted as a disciple despite the rules—and obtained a powerful, domineering spirit sword.

That little junior sister just now—her name was Qiao Mianmian. It sounded like a cute name, but she was actually a princess in the mortal kingdom.

It was said that the year she was born, Qiao Kingdom experienced a once-in-a-century bitter winter. But that year’s cotton harvest was ten times more bountiful than usual—hence the not-so-“princessy” name.

Given her background, it was obvious she’d later be involved in some kind of “save the princess and her kingdom” subplot.

But for now, that storyline didn’t really require the Nascent Soul-level Long Ye to intervene.

As long as the princess joined the Sword Sect, there’d be plenty of other “disciples” to help her out.

Aside from the “save the princess” arc, the other big event was the sect’s grand gathering—the Heroes Gathering.

This was also a prime opportunity for Long Aotian to show off.

As a new disciple, when it came time to draw lots and duel disciples from other major sects, Long Aotian kept drawing girls.

And since he fought ruthlessly and without mercy, he made quite the splash—drawing the attention of many beautiful senior and junior sisters from other sects.

Could those other sects just sit back and take it?

Of course not. So more and more disciples from other sects challenged him, and in the process, he broke through to the Nascent Soul stage.

He ultimately won the Heroes Gathering prize—a chance to enter a new instance to level up.

As for Brother Ye drawing only girls as opponents—Shi Qian: …He was honestly kind of looking forward to it.

But again, the cultivation stage had changed. The opponents would have to be reshuffled.

Surely Long Ye wouldn’t have such terrible luck this time too… right?

After struggling to climb over the final, severely protruding rock, Shi Qian finally reached the summit of the stone mountain.

At the top, there was a corridor-like walkway—a circular, closed mountain path with no downward route—imbued with a sense of hardship and trial.

On the inner side, the stone wall was covered in murals, each depicting sword techniques. They exuded a faint aura of sword intent.

Shi Qian recognized a few of the moves.

—They were techniques personally taught and carefully explained to him by the Sword Sect’s Little Grandmaster.

Excited, he immediately chose a sword move he was familiar with. He had no intention of making things difficult for himself or seeking extra challenge.

As he stood before the mural, he was abruptly “swallowed” into it.

In just a moment of dizziness, Shi Qian felt as if he had fallen into a warm spring. He couldn’t open his eyes, but felt unusually cozy and comfortable.

His cultivation, spiritual power—everything melted away in the warmth, leaving only a deep sense of vulnerability and powerlessness.

Then the voice of that formation grandmaster echoed in the space, asking:

“You’ve come to this world—what do you seek in this life?”

Shi Qian: That’s… pretty philosophical.

He tried to respond, “Squeak Squeak?”

To be a salted fish?

“Squeak Squeak-Squeak Squeak—”

To live happily, eat well, drink well.

Shi Qian’s mind was filled with joyful thoughts, mostly about food at first. Then it wandered to random things—like the cats and dogs, cows, horses, chickens, and ducks he used to admire from afar…

The question “What do you seek in this life?” was meant to probe his true desires, testing his heart and character.

This was the first time the formation spirit had seen someone envisioning so many mortal delicacies and common animals during this trial.

In the cultivation world, who would still care about such mundane things? People pursued love, the Dao, power—never worldly cravings.

But that warm, simple longing Shi Qian held allowed him to pass the heart trial instantly.

—And then he was born.

At first, Shi Qian still remembered where he came from, and how he had transmigrated into a spirit beast: a treasure-seeking mouse.

But after his rebirth, as he slowly grew up and interacted with his surroundings, his new experiences began to override his original memories.

He began a brand-new life—as the child of a wealthy merchant family, raised in luxury.

His mother was gentle and always smiling, and his father doted on him with affection.

He had two older brothers and one sister.

The eldest brother was kind, but always traveling on business. He was so busy that he had thinning hair. Once, Shi Qian sat on his shoulders to look at lanterns and bought him a monk-shaped lantern—and didn’t even get scolded.

The second brother wasn’t as nice—he always complained that Shi Qian was dumb, tattled too much, and cried on purpose.

He’d secretly put caterpillars in Shi Qian’s bed to bully him. But when Shi Qian stuffed them back into his brother’s bed, it led to a midnight scream that earned them both a double beating from their parents.

His sister liked to tug his ears while scolding him, usually because he wrinkled or dirtied her skirts.

She couldn’t understand her little brother’s enthusiasm for crawling through dog holes or leading classmates over walls to skip school, but she’d still wipe his face clean with a handkerchief and pinch his nose while saying:

“Stinky little brother, this is the third handkerchief today.”

But amid this blissful life, his father was eventually framed in business and died in disgrace.

The eldest brother ran around tirelessly trying to make things right, but he was pushed into the river—only for the incident to be ruled as an accidental drowning.

Their mother was devastated with grief. The sister, just blooming into womanhood, was forcibly taken by a local official’s son to be a concubine.

The second brother went to report it to the authorities but instead got his legs broken.

As for young Shi Qian, not too old but no longer a child, he suddenly discovered that with a wooden sword in hand, he possessed powers akin to an immortal. He might not have been able to split mountains or part seas, but cutting down ten men with one strike was not an exaggeration.

His heart was filled with rage, and what he saw with his eyes were scenes of his family’s blood and tears.

That night, Shi Qian snuck into the local official’s mansion, killed him, and rescued his sister.

But upon returning, he was faced with a sick and frail mother, a crippled and increasingly violent second brother, and a sister who screamed at the sight of anyone.

Shi Qian wasn’t stupid—he realized that the family of the official he killed wouldn’t let them off so easily. So he took their silver and fled with his family.

However, the second brother didn’t cooperate. When he saw Shi Qian’s abilities, he urged him to take revenge.

He wanted him to kill those who caused their father’s death, those who led to their elder brother’s demise, and the corrupt officials who broke his legs.

Shi Qian tried to reason with him. He made arrangements for his mother, sister, and second brother, then promised to go.

But the second brother couldn’t wait even a second longer. He even tried to use their sick mother and sister to threaten Shi Qian.

That truly infuriated Shi Qian—so much that he saw red. He knocked his brother out cold with one strike of his wooden sword.

After this whole ordeal, Shi Qian’s awareness slowly returned, and he realized he had been tormented by an illusion.

But even then, he couldn’t break free. He was still living in the illusion.

Shi Qian made sure his family was settled, then began seeking justice. If justice could be obtained through law, he pursued it that way. If not—he took matters into his own hands.

But no matter how cautious he was, it still devolved into a melodramatic mess where his family was discovered and used against him.

He was given a choice: either he died, or his family died.

A vague intuition told him—if he died, he would lose his cultivation in the real world. If his family died, the illusion would end.

Shi Qian was torn.

He couldn’t determine what the illusion was really testing.

Was the Sword Sect seeking a kindhearted disciple, testing his sincerity toward his family? But he already knew it was all fake.

Or maybe the sect wanted a rational and decisive disciple. Yet the vivid, decade-long memories made it hard for him to let go.

Shi Qian clutched his head in distress. In the end, he stabbed the wooden sword—crafted by his elder brother—into a random spot in the void.

“You damned illusion! I’ll stab you to death.”

To hell with it—what kind of messed-up storyline was this?

The formation spirit, stabbed and insulted, wiped away a tear in secret and quietly released the forever-young spiritual beast from the illusion.

When Shi Qian opened his eyes again, they were sore, and the rims were damp with tears.

That illusion—no normal person could’ve endured it.

He raised a paw to wipe his eyes but nearly got powdered stardust in them. After that little mishap, he finally began to calm down and take in his surroundings.

He must have truly passed through the stone wall and entered an empty stone chamber.

The walls were still covered in sword techniques—eighteen forms in total. The complete sword technique was named “Dilemma Unresolved.”

This time, a cocky teenage voice rang out: “You have one month to master it, or you’ll be deemed unqualified.”

Shi Qian: A type of curse word.

He was just tormented earlier, and now they wanted him to practice a sword technique that even sounded torturous.

Grumbling under his breath, Shi Qian began practicing, but the technique he had matched with in the illusion… was really difficult!

Just like its name, whenever he tried to complete one move, he couldn’t connect it to the next—a true dilemma.

“Squeak Squeak?”

Can someone just tell me—can this even be mastered?

There was no answer, only his own voice echoing back, making Shi Qian scratch his head and start to suspect it was his lack of talent. He then dove back into studying the sword moves.

Meanwhile, several days earlier, Long Ye had cleared three trials in one go and had already been transported to the outer section of the Sword Cavern.

Even though Long Ye arrived late, he was still the first disciple to clear the trials and enter the Sword Cavern.

Aside from the climb up the stone mountain, the Sword Sect’s entrance trials didn’t focus much on cultivation. They tested the candidates’ temperament, perseverance, judgment, and other overall qualities.

As the first to pass, Long Ye naturally drew a lot of attention. Through a water mirror capable of transmitting images, the elders were observing him remotely from the Elder Hall.

But several days went by, and although new candidates kept entering the Sword Cavern, Long Ye didn’t make any moves—he just sat quietly and cultivated.

The formation spirit, who had just finished tormenting the spiritual beast, couldn’t hold back and ran to the Elder Hall to ask Mo Sanchi:

“Sanchi, why hasn’t this guy moved for days? Is there something wrong with him?”

Mo Sanchi thought about it but didn’t reveal that Brother Qian was actually the treasure-hunting mouse. She only said, “He and his spiritual beast are very close, like family or brothers. He’s probably waiting for Brother Qian.”

“I don’t think he’s going to get the chance,” the formation spirit said smugly. “The sword technique I gave is fake. If he can’t see through it, he won’t pass the final test. Only those who see through it within three days are considered the best candidates.”

The Sword Sect was the top authority on swordsmanship in the world—who would ever question the authenticity of their techniques? Most people would more likely doubt themselves.

Mo Sanchi frowned silently. “Is it really necessary to be so harsh?”

“He stabbed me with a sword. Golden Core late stage—he even managed to scratch my surface!”

Mo Sanchi hit the nail on the head: “That’s what you get for reading those melodramatic love novels every day and even hiring people to write more for you. You brought this on yourself.”

“You little thing! Whose side are you on?” The formation spirit was unhappy.

Mo Sanchi thought silently: She’s on Brother Qian’s side.

But since this formation spirit was practically an ancestral figure in the sect, she didn’t want to create conflict for Brother Qian. So instead she said, “Isn’t Long Ye’s sword technique even harder?”

“Yes,” the spirit admitted. “The set I gave him had two deliberately flawed moves. He noticed quickly. The ones he created to replace them weren’t quite right, but the rhythm of the swordsmanship was consistent, so I let him pass.”

Back in the stone chamber—

Shi Qian, for the sake of earning his spirit sword, really did put in the effort.

On the first day, he memorized all eighteen moves by heart—but couldn’t link even two together.

On the second day, he tried rearranging the moves randomly, only to discover—ridiculously—that they still didn’t connect. It was as absurd as it could get.

On the third day, after fifteen minutes of practice, he gave up.

He lay flat on the stone floor, clutching the little sword in his hand, eyes dull. “Squeak Squeak.”

—This sword technique is definitely fake. Fake. FAKE!

By the time the formation spirit’s main body realized it, this lazy little chinchilla had already passed the trial by doing nothing, and was transported into the Sword Cavern.

Shi Qian, lying there and suddenly teleported mid-flop: ?