Xu Miao and the others went quiet after “watching” for a while.

Shi Qian thought to himself, I bet the grown-up Xu Miao now realizes he said something wrong. People grow up, after all, and should mature.

But when he looked up, he saw the young men all struggling to suppress their laughter.

Shi Qian asked coldly, “Squeak Squeak?”

At your age, why aren’t you cultivating? What are you doing loafing around?

If his thoughts were written out, they’d say: Why aren’t you cultivating? Wandering about like this.

Then he stretched out a paw and pointed at Xu Miao: “Squeak meow.”

He was asking him specifically.

Xu Miao, who had already sat down, immediately grabbed Brother Qian’s little paw and gave it a playful shake. Smiling, he explained, “We’re in charge of errands for the spiritual herb garden. We came here today to learn from the elders. We were just passing through on our way.”

Another young man nearby, clearly itching to try, said, “Senior spirit beast, I want to shake hands too!”

Shi Qian: ?

You all seriously lack respect for your seniors.

Shi Qian pulled his paw back and wrote “Cui Long Mountain” (“Emerald Dragon Mountain”) for Xu Miao, reminding him to come visit. Then he shooed them off to class.

Sure enough, more and more disciples from both the inner and outer sects passed by.

Shi Qian: …No wonder I was punished to stand here.

So this was public humiliation all along.

But after being stared at by so many, Shi Qian eventually became immune.

Go ahead and look. I’m cute—I’m not afraid of being stared at.

Black Sword lay flat on the ground, and Shi Qian laid on top of it, basking in the warm sunshine.

Thinking about the dream, Shi Qian asked Black Sword: “Squeak Squeak?”

Big Black, how can I control the spatial power you have?

“Zheng.”

You can’t.

“Squeak——”

But I clearly used spatial power once back in the Sword Cavern. That was your power. I’m your master—how can I not control it?

“Zheng zheng——”

If Master says you can, then you can.

The tone was extremely perfunctory.

Shi Qian couldn’t be bothered to keep talking to this stubborn sword. He quietly began to analyze it herself.

In the dream, He was able to use it. And that dream had a strong sense of prophecy.

In the cultivation world, dreams weren’t just dreams—they were often signs or guidance.

Deep in thought, the remaining time of the hour passed by.

Long Ye came out and found Brother Qian pleasantly warm from the sun, but surprisingly, He hadn’t fallen asleep.

He asked, “Why aren’t you napping out here?”

“Squeak Squeak.”

Maybe because no one’s talking.

Shi Qian sighed and made a decision: “Squeak Squeak.”

I’m not going to attend that class anymore.

“Alright.” Long Ye didn’t push him.

After all, it was clear that Brother Qian had zero interest in Elder Chang’s lessons.

Just then, a white-bearded elder emerged from behind.

Elder Chang Youcai stroked his beard and looked at the spirit beast being punished: “You call that standing properly? You flopped down halfway.”

Shi Qian: …

Why can teachers in the cultivation world see everything?!

Shi Qian lowered his head. “Squeak Squeak.”

I know I was wrong.

Long Ye added, “Elder, please forgive him. Brother Qian says he knows he was wrong.”

“That’s good. Even though you’re the first pure spirit beast disciple in the Sword Sect, you must still be diligent and studious. Only through hard work can you gain anything. No slacking off.”

Elder Chang gave the little one a kindly word of encouragement before waving his sleeve and leaving.

Long Ye watched him disappear, then picked up Brother Qian and headed for the next location.

But the elder’s departing figure lingered in his mind, and he couldn’t help asking, “Brother Qian, you really don’t want to go to class? Elder Chang specifically stayed behind to speak with you. Otherwise, he’d have just returned to the mountain.”

Shi Qian was unmoved. He countered, “Squeak Squeak?”

Brother Ye, what’s better—skipping class, or attending and falling asleep anyway?

Long Ye: That… actually does make sense.

“Alright then, don’t go.”

Shi Qian then brought up Xu Miao. If he hadn’t still recognized his spiritual energy, He might not have realized that grown-up Xu Miao was even the same person.

Someone can really change a lot from childhood to adulthood.

Long Ye was pleasantly surprised as well. “That’s great—you’re reunited.”

To run into an old acquaintance from ten years ago in the Sword Sect—it was totally unexpected.

Then, after muddling through four different mountain peaks, Shi Qian finally discovered two classes worth attending. One was on escape techniques, and the other was about spiritual energy nourishment through food.

He was naturally gifted at the first, and the Nascent Soul elder who taught it was quite fond of him.

As for the second class, Shi Qian was brimming with enthusiasm and could handle the barrage of knowledge. Not to mention, the elder teaching it would randomly ask disciples questions and reward them with meat.

Shi Qian eagerly scrambled to answer, leveraging his height (perched up high) and thick skin to win the class’s top prize—a plump little lamb.

After the final class ended, they flew back to Cui Long Mountain. Long Ye ducked into the study, ready to revise Brother Qian’s schedule for the coming days.

Because honestly, the odds of him falling asleep in class were just too high—three out of five times? Way too frequent.

Long Ye even did some self-reflection: he had been too demanding of Brother Qian and hadn’t taken into account the unique nature of spirit beasts.

Meanwhile, Shi Qian, holding the lamb’s leash, was fretting over where to keep the little lamb.

Just then, Xu Rui and Xu Miao arrived to visit, and Shi Qian’s eyes lit up.

Now he knew the safest place to keep the lamb.

“Squeak Squeak.”

A warm welcome!

Shi Qian dragged the lamb over to greet the siblings, then jumped into Xu Rui’s arms and stuffed the leash into the pretty older sister’s hands. “Squeak Squeak.”

How about roasted lamb for dinner today?

Holding the little lamb’s leash, Xu Rui thought of the old days ten years ago and chuckled. “Brother Qian, you really don’t treat me like an outsider.”

“Squeak Squeak.”

We’re family—no need to be polite.

Long Ye had just finished cross-checking the final location with Wang Xingzhi via message talisman when the scent of smoke and fire wafted in.

Remembering the Xu siblings were visiting, Long Ye sent a greeting through the talisman and said, “Brother Wang, want to eat some roasted lamb? Brother Qian most likely roasted the new lamb he just got.”

Wang Xingzhi’s laughter rang out on the other end.

“Of course I’ll eat. I’m coming.”

Long Ye put the talisman away and stepped out of the most cluttered study on all of Cui Long Mountain—only to see a bonfire blazing in the spacious courtyard.

The chubby little lamb, now stripped of its warm, woolly coat, was helplessly hanging on a skinned-down wooden spit.

A young man—unfamiliar yet vaguely familiar—was massaging the lamb according to a sheet of paper in his hand.

Xu Miao looked doubtful. “Brother Qian, will it really taste good if we follow that elder’s recipe? I’m kinda worried.”

Shi Qian: “Squeak Squeak.”

No choice—I have to write a post-meal review after I eat it.

That lamb had been personally bred by the elder. It was a unique hybrid, carefully cultivated, and supposedly raised with great care.

They said that combined with the elder’s recipe, it was especially effective for restoring spiritual energy.

Just as Shi Qian finished answering and was about to write something, he heard Long Ye’s voice: “The elder who gave you the lamb wants feedback after you’ve eaten it. The lamb was specially raised.”

As for what that elder probably imagined—a grown-up lamb—there was no need to mention that.

Xu Rui and Xu Miao both looked over. After ten years apart, they realized Long Ye hadn’t changed much. But compared to Brother Qian, it really had felt like ten years since they’d last seen Long Ye—he seemed distant now. Yet with Shi Qian, that gap didn’t exist at all.

Sensing the awkward tension in the air, Shi Qian quickly stepped in to smooth things over: “Squeak Squeak.”

I want grilled spirit mushrooms, bamboo-tube rice… and lamb tripe soup.

All of you, get to work.

Shi Qian assigned tasks without hesitation. Long Ye, being fast, flew off to gather mushrooms and cut bamboo. Xu Rui, on the other hand, began pondering how to make bamboo-tube rice.

She had never eaten it before.

Or rather, none of them had.

Shi Qian had eaten it in the past but didn’t know how to cook it. Since the ingredients here were all different, he could only vaguely describe it: rice inside a bamboo tube. He lied and said he’d seen someone else eat it back when he lived in the mountains.

Xu Miao turned out to be an expert in roasting lamb. Watching his skillful movements, Shi Qian felt like this little lamb hadn’t died in vain—it had perished at the hands of a true master.

A while later, Wang Xingzhi showed up, sneaking in with two jars of wine that belonged to his master.

He’d met Xu Miao and Xu Rui before, and upon seeing Xu Miao now, he couldn’t help but remark, “You’ve grown so fast. Can’t believe you ended up here in the Sword Sect too. From now on, you’re one of us.”

Xu Miao still remembered receiving a gift from this senior Wang when they first met.

Now, years later—“Senior Wang, you’re still as elegant as ever.”

“Haha, given your generation, you’ll be calling me Shishu (Martial Uncle) soon,” Wang Xingzhi laughed.

With so many disciples in the Sword Sect, the hierarchy could be a bit messy. If you weren’t formally apprenticed to an elder and didn’t care much for technicalities, the general rule was: call Golden Core cultivators “senior brother/sister,” Nascent Soul cultivators “shishu/shibo,” and anyone who looked old, just call them “elder.” That usually worked.

What Wang Xingzhi meant was—he felt like he was about to break through to Nascent Soul.

Shi Qian wanted to say, I’ve got experience with this.

But after thinking about it… he realized he didn’t. So instead, he climbed on top of the black sword and tiptoed to peek at the wine jars.

Shi Qian: “Squeak Squeak.”

Can I drink some?

Wang Xingzhi, guessing his meaning, replied, “You’ll have to ask Brother Ye first before I dare let you try spirit wine. My master brewed this—it’s a hundred-year-old vintage. Strong aftertaste, but it’s said to be really tasty.”

Soon after, Long Ye returned on his sword.

Dragon Slayer was loaded down with mushrooms, bamboo, spirit fruits, and even muddy bamboo shoots—all freshly picked from the mountain, rich in spiritual energy and fragrant with their natural aroma.

After a burst of busy preparation, there was meat, wine, and even a few creative dishes Shi Qian had come up with. Everyone ate happily.

Even though Shi Qian got full after gnawing on a lamb leg and couldn’t eat much more, that didn’t stop his tipsy self from stuffing in a few more bites.

Eventually, he ate too much, so Long Ye had to grab him for a belly massage and a stroll to help him digest.

Shi Qian swore he’d only had two cups.

Blame the cups for being too big.

While Long Ye was consulting Wang Xingzhi, with Xu Miao eavesdropping on the side, Xu Rui had already gotten drunk. She leaned against his younger brother’s shoulder, seemingly asleep. Her cheeks were glowing with a gorgeous rosy hue, making his look particularly beautiful.

Unfortunately, the three men present were all singularly devoted to the sword.

Shi Qian: They’re just not worthy.

At first, Shi Qian was still walking around the courtyard, circling everyone to help digest his food—but somewhere along the way, he wandered off course.

He ended up outside the courtyard, straying into the bamboo grove nearby.

Shi Qian looked around.

Perfect. The bamboo was dense—no one could see inside.

He formed a hand seal and summoned the black sword that hadn’t caught up to him.

First, he used Enlarge, casually doubling in size. Then he grabbed Big Black and began testing out the moves he’d seen in his dream.

“Squeak Squeak!”

Heh! Take this brick to the face!

The black sword being thrown out: … “Zheng—!”

Stone-cold sobering.

Only after hearing the sound did Shi Qian realize the sword had gone flying—he hadn’t followed it. But thinking about it again, charging forward with it felt even more dangerous.

Why can’t I just throw my sword like a hidden weapon?

“Squeak Squeak.”

I’m a genius.

The black sword gave up struggling. After all, it couldn’t wake a truly drunk spirit beast.

When its little master picked it up again, chirping complaints that it looked ugly in its smaller form, it resignedly began practicing sword forms.

The black sword started to regret not snatching those two jars of spirit wine.

Drunk, and still practicing swordsmanship?

This Sword Sect was terrifying. Even a drunken spirit beast would get led astray here. Not only did he not mind that it looked ugly now, he was actively wielding it!

Meanwhile, Long Ye noticed Brother Qian had disappeared, but he could still sense he hadn’t gone far.

Since they were on their own mountain, nothing serious would happen.

Long Ye kept drinking with Wang Xingzhi and Xu Miao, chatting casually.

Wang Xingzhi was listing the Sword Sect’s powerful figures and sighed, “I heard from my master that Elder Chang’s swordsmanship used to be extraordinary. But after becoming Grand Elder, a few hundred years have passed in a flash. He rarely leaves the mountain anymore, so few younger disciples know of his skill. I even heard he’s not taking disciples anymore—what a shame.”

Xu Miao asked, “Is that the Grand Elder I’ve heard of?”

Long Ye: “Pretty sure there’s only one Grand Elder.”

“Oh, then that’s strange,” Xu Miao said. “Elder Chang mentioned recently he wanted to take my sister as his final disciple.”

Wang Xingzhi and Long Ye both looked at Xu Rui in surprise and envy, but also confusion.

Xu Miao explained, “I think Elder Chang just wants my sister to help with business.”

“One of the Sword Sect’s shops was doing terribly. My sister came up with an idea, and within a few days, it was profitable again. Then the Grand Elder roped her in to keep helping. Now he’s even trying to recruit her as a disciple to trap her into long-term free labor. My sister thinks having someone powerful backing her is nice for business, but it’s exhausting too. She’s still hesitating.”

Wang Xingzhi: “So that’s how it is.”

Poor Grand Elder, really working hard.

“Your sister is impressive,” said Long Ye. He knew how difficult running a business could be. He’d once considered doing it himself, but gave up because of his temper.

As they were praising the sleeping beauty, a sudden commotion erupted outside the courtyard. Countless bamboo leaves whooshed through the air, swirling into the courtyard.

Long Ye raised his hand, and a spirit sword appeared in his grip.

With one sweeping strike, he slashed through the green wave of bamboo leaves.

The scattered leaves fell to the sides, then lifted in a breeze—revealing what lay beyond the courtyard wall: a ground carpeted with green leaves, and not far off, a patch of bare bamboo stalks.

“That’s Brother Qian!” Xu Miao exclaimed. “Looks like he’s practicing swordsmanship!”

“Looks like the aftereffects of the wine are hitting now,” Wang Xingzhi said, surprised at the strength of his master’s vintage.

Long Ye noticed something deeper: “Brother Qian seems to have had a sudden breakthrough in his drunken state—his swordplay today is especially agile.”

When he mentioned “swordplay,” Long Ye glanced again at the “black brick” in Shi Qian’s hand. Remembering that indescribable expression on Brother Qian’s face from before, he couldn’t help but feel like laughing again.

Shi Qian finished the set of sword moves. Most of the alcohol had worn off by now.

He held Big Black in one hand, looking blankly at the nearby patch of stripped bamboo stalks.

Where… am I?

Wasn’t he still in the courtyard, gnawing on a lamb leg?

Then he turned his head and saw the trio watching from above the courtyard wall. Memories slowly came back.

What did I just do? Oh, right—he’d been practicing swordsmanship.

But the real issue was—

Does this thing in my hand even count as a sword?

Wang Xingzhi shouted earnestly, “Brother Qian! Great swordsmanship!”

Xu Miao: “Brother Qian, Brother Qian, was that an epiphany? What did you realize?”

What did I realize…?

Shi Qian looked down at the now “smaller” Big Black and sighed quietly.

“Squeak Squeak.”

I realized—even a spirit beast can’t afford to care too much about pride.

Shi Qian had been too concerned about his dignity. That’s why he’d been holding back, unwilling to use Big Black in his practice, even harboring some resistance to his own spirit sword. With that mindset, how could he and his sword ever reach true harmony?

And there were too many hang-ups. Like before, when he was afraid of being “too tall,” he’d been trapped by fixed thinking. But now, even wielding the original (oversized) form of Big Black, he had the strength to wield it with speed and grace.

Simply put: Don’t worry about face—just let go, and you’ll grow stronger.

But Long Ye still cared about face.

He thought for a moment and said, “Lift the heavy as if it were light. Hold nothing in your heart.”

Shi Qian listened and thought it over. Then he nodded vigorously: “Squeak Squeak.”

Exactly! That’s what I meant!

But with that nod, the alcohol’s lingering energy dissipated. The effects of the Enlarge technique wore off, and with a soft poof, Shi Qian shrank back to his normal size.

Fortunately, his reflexes were sharp—he hopped lightly and landed steadily on the black sword.

For the first time ever, the black sword protested: “Zheng—!”

I’m tired. Get off.