LAVW – Chapter 60 Jinjiang Official Version

“Squeak Squeak.”

Why are you tired? You weren’t the one doing the work—

Why does it feel so strange?

Forget it. Shi Qian generously jumped down anyway—he no longer needed the spirit sword.

Now that he had “comprehended” the true meaning of life, Shi Qian no longer felt embarrassed about using a “brick” as a sword to practice. Plus, practicing swordsmanship consumed the overly abundant spiritual energy in his belly, so he happily dashed back home.

Upon returning to the courtyard, the first thing Shi Qian did was poke his head out and say, “Squeak Squeak.”

Two more bamboo tubes of rice, please.

The elder specializing in medicinal diets was truly amazing. The little fat sheep he raised were rich in spiritual energy—just one leg was enough to keep Shi Qian full.

However, the bamboo tube rice used ordinary spirit rice, which wasn’t quite as “tonic-heavy” by comparison, so Shi Qian could handle it just fine.

Long Ye, still a bit worried, reached out to check.

Only after confirming he could really eat it did he arrange the food for Brother Qian.

Wang Xingzhi moved his wine cup further away and leaned over to ask, “Brother Qian, what exactly did you say back then? Not the version Long Ye relayed, right?”

That overly refined phrase—clearly something Long Ye had polished.

Wang Xingzhi felt as if he had lost his soul, unable to grasp the essence of that moment of epiphany.

As a cultivator who hadn’t had an epiphany in over ten years, Wang Xingzhi couldn’t resist the urge to learn more. Maybe with some effort, he could achieve enlightenment again.

Since they were all on the same side, Shi Qian generously lifted his little paw and wrote it out for Wang Xingzhi.

Xu Miao also came closer and saw the four slowly unfolding characters: “Let go of your heart.”

It was similar in essence to “Keep no clutter in your heart.”

Xu Miao felt it made a lot of sense and quickly memorized the phrase.

Wang Xingzhi had a vague feeling that this probably wasn’t the original wording either. But having already asked once, he felt embarrassed to press further.

Long Ye hurriedly handed over the bamboo tube rice to shut Brother Qian’s mouth—and keep his paw occupied.

Shi Qian: “Squeak Squeak.”

Thanks for your hard work, Brother Ye.

Using his spiritual energy, he conjured up a little scoop and began eating with just his mouth, cheeks puffing out adorably with each bite—completely focused and determined.

When it was Xu Rui’s turn, what she saw was: before passing out drunk, Brother Qian had been eating the bamboo tube rice she made; after waking up, he was still eating the bamboo tube rice she made.

Xu Rui: Could it be that she had a hidden talent for being a spiritual chef?

What a shame—she had already decided to become the Grand Elder’s apprentice.

Half-drunk and half-awake, Xu Rui reached out and gently patted Brother Qian’s head with soft, delicate movements.

Shi Qian noticed, tilted his head back, and rubbed against her hand with a smile.

Looking around at all the men present, he thought proudly—sure enough, he was the pretty sister’s favorite, the one she still remembered even while drunk.

The Next Day

Shi Qian dug out a stack of smooth-feeling paper from the clam shell, then picked up a pen and wrote a four-character review on one page: “Truly nourishing, one leg fills the belly.”

He tucked away his “assignment” and followed Long Ye off to sword practice and lessons.

Thinking he was mentally prepared, Shi Qian still ended up pulling out his small sword in the end—he just didn’t have the heart to use the big black one in front of all the new disciples.

“Squeak Squeak.”

Sigh… being a senior really isn’t easy.

Long Ye was once again a bit puzzled by what that meant, but he didn’t say anything—he simply continued honing his sword techniques. Each extra round of practice brought him new insights.

Once Brother Qian became fully immersed in his own practice, Long Ye stopped to quietly observe from the side.

Yes, “observe” was exactly the right word.

After yesterday’s epiphany, Shi Qian’s mental state had broadened. Now, the sword techniques in his hand gradually began to carry his own unique flair.

Light and swift, yet full of power and presence—he wielded the sword with effortless mastery.

Shi Qian had been familiar with this sword technique before, but he had never executed it with today’s ease and fluidity.

Watching him, Long Ye gained quite a bit of insight as well.

Even Wang Xingzhi, once he noticed, told the other disciples to stop practicing and watch Shi Qian’s sword performance.

Shi Qian was completely immersed and had no idea he was being watched.

After finishing the entire routine, he felt refreshed and invigorated.

Then he looked around—no one else was practicing sword techniques. They were all watching him.

Shi Qian was momentarily confused, then straightened up, puffed out his chest, and asked Long Ye, “Squeak Squeak.”

Were they all stunned by how handsome I am?

Long Ye knew that to Brother Qian, “handsome” didn’t just refer to a military commander. It could also mean attractive, good-looking, dashing, or simply someone who acted with grace and flair—a very versatile term.

He nodded and replied, “Yes, they were all stunned.”

“Squeak Squeak.”

What about you, Brother Ye?

“Of course I was,” Long Ye said with a smile. “I was the first.”

Wang Xingzhi looked envious. “You’re the only one who understands him, and you won’t even explain it to the rest of us.”

“Explain what? We’re leaving.”

Another peak had an early class that day, so Long Ye scooped up Brother Qian and made a swift exit, leaving behind a group of people still caught in discussion.

“Didn’t someone say yesterday that the spiritual beast senior fell asleep in class? How can someone who sleeps in class practice to this level?”

“Senior Brother Wang, how long would it take for us to reach this level?”

“If you’re quick, a year or two might do it. If slow, even ten or a hundred years might not be enough,” Wang Xingzhi replied. “But there’s no need to compare with others. Brother Qian’s practiced this sword form for ten years. As a spiritual beast, he’s not particularly gifted in swordsmanship.”

As a result, several disciples also began calling him “Brother Qian” and crowded around Wang Xingzhi to ask more.

“Then Brother Qian must be the hardworking type—secretly training at night without rest, which is why he’s sleepy during the day.”

“I’m sure of it. He looked so different yesterday compared to today. Ten years of hard work, one moment of enlightenment. But without those ten years, how would he have had today’s transformation?”

“And other peaks were mocking Brother Qian for being punished for sleeping in class! They clearly have no idea and just talk nonsense.”

Wang Xingzhi: …

That’s a bit of an exaggeration.

Brother Qian did practice, but he never forced himself.

To say he was unusually diligent—Wang Xingzhi felt that wasn’t quite accurate. But to say he didn’t work hard at all would be unfair, and frankly, kind of harsh.

After all, Brother Qian did make an effort—just not an extraordinary one.

So he had no choice but to respond with silence.

Disciples of the Tenth Peak silently vowed in their hearts: Starting today, I must add at least half an—no, a full hour of extra practice every day!

Shi Qian had no idea that his unintentional actions had once again caused the young overachievers to become even more competitive.

He lay on Long Ye’s head, earnestly listening to the lecture.

Today’s alchemy class—surprisingly, the elder teaching it actually tried to get him to learn and even had him attempt to refine a pill at the furnace.

Shi Qian: Now this I’m very interested in.

After a wild flurry of actions that looked very impressive…

He checked the bottom of the pill furnace—there was just a big lump of ash.

Laughter rippled through the class.

Shi Qian: …

“Squeak Squeak.”

That was definitely a fluke. Let me try again.

After trying three times—and failing three times—Long Ye couldn’t take it anymore and stepped in to help.

Shi Qian couldn’t tell what had changed, but once Long Ye took over, the pills quickly formed successfully. A bunch of round, plump pills spun smoothly inside the cauldron.

After class, having gnawed down all the pills, Shi Qian commented, “Squeak Squeak.”

So… can I skip this class now too?

Long Ye thought about it. “How about going to the herbal studies hall? There are some general courses over there. If needed, I’ll take you along.”

Which was essentially tacit approval: Yeah, let’s skip this class.

Shi Qian wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or disappointed.

In truth, alchemy was quite fun. He didn’t feel sleepy at all—in fact, he felt pretty energized. It’s just that he kept failing, which really killed his sense of achievement.

And those classmates kept laughing, which seriously affected his ability to focus on refining.

Shi Qian: “Squeak Squeak.”

It’s all their fault for laughing too loudly. Let’s just buy some spiritual herbs and refine pills ourselves back at Cui Long Mountain.

“There’s no pill flame on the mountain.”

“Squeak Squeak.”

Then let’s use the pill room.

“Sure,” Long Ye replied, drawing out the word slightly.

He couldn’t just flat-out say no—that would be too big a blow to Brother Qian’s confidence. Anyway, after three or five tries, Brother Qian would probably realize the truth on his own.

Having received affirmation, Shi Qian felt comforted and quickly forgot about the whole thing.

Later in the afternoon, Long Ye had to attend a solo lecture covering the various techniques of the Sword Sect.

He suggested, “Brother Qian, how about you go to the Spirit Beast Peak? The courses there are interesting, and some of them might suit you.”

Shi Qian nodded. “Squeak Squeak.”

Sure, sure, you go ahead.

I’ll wander around on my own.

After sending Long Ye off, Shi Qian crouched on a rooftop, watching disciples rush off to their next classes.

His black sword lay beside him. Shi Qian asked, “Squeak Squeak.”

Why do I even have to attend class? Isn’t it fine to just choose not to go?

“Zheng—”

Well said.

But the black sword hadn’t expected that Shi Qian skipping class was just a cover… for secretly practicing flying on his brick.

Since he had decided to open up more, he had to go all the way.

A Chinchilla who couldn’t ride a brick wasn’t a proper disciple of the Sword Sect.

Once all the other disciples had gone off to class, Shi Qian began to secretly practice riding the brick.

As he flew, he even made his own sound effects: “Squeak Squeak~”

I had a little donkey, and I never once rode it~

The black sword almost wanted to ask: Was the donkey really black?

Shi Qian had no idea that some spiritual swords kept secrets in their hearts. He was focused on adjusting his mindset and learning to embrace the awkwardness.

Once your mindset is steady, your posture becomes cool.

But when making a turn, you had to stay stable, or else… you’d fall.

Shi Qian flew too fast and made a sharp turn too suddenly—splat—he fell right off the black sword. Fortunately, he hadn’t flown very high and only landed on the tiled roof.

But who would’ve thought? The buildings of the Sword Sect weren’t exactly top quality. Shi Qian’s foot went right through a crack between the tiles, and he slid all the way down.

The formation spirit was in the middle of yelling at a group of clueless Sword Sect disciples: “You lot really are the—”

“Squeak Squeak?”

Worst batch you’ve ever had?

Shi Qian landed right in front of the formation spirit and helpfully completed his sentence.

The formation spirit paused, then decided it made perfect sense. He turned back to the disciples and bellowed, “You really are the worst batch I’ve ever taught!”

The disciples were already used to this.

Their senior brothers and sisters had long since passed down the warning—er, guidance—that the formation grandmaster was just like this: he’d start teaching, suddenly lose his temper, then start scolding everyone.

Today’s scolding session hadn’t even officially started yet.

The disciples excitedly glanced up at the roof, then at the little spirit beast who’d fallen through it.

The formation grandmaster was so fierce, his voice had shaken the glazed tiles into shifting and revealing a giant crack!

Shi Qian had been thinking about this grumpy old master for a while. Now that fate had brought them together, he couldn’t let it go to waste.

He sneakily used his spiritual power to write behind the formation spirit:

“Actually, he says that to every batch of students.”

Still basking in the satisfaction of having uttered such a zinger, the formation spirit didn’t notice right away why the students had suddenly started laughing.

Following their gaze, he turned around to look.

Shi Qian was quick—he immediately wiped the spiritual writing into a smudge.

The formation spirit frowned and made a hand sign, reversing the residual spiritual energy to trace back its original form.

Shi Qian: …The cultivation world is way too dangerous.

“I say that to every batch…? Well, of course I’m dissatisfied with every single one!” the formation spirit snapped. “But I didn’t expect each new class to be worse than the last! Have you even learned formation techniques before? What kind of garbage have you been taught all these years? What do you even have in those heads of yours?!”

After his rant, his frustration spilled over to the unexpected intruder.

He reached out and grabbed the little spirit beast. “You! Don’t stir up trouble!”

Shi Qian obediently chirped, “Squeak.”

Master, I missed you so much.

The formation spirit’s grip loosened. “You—what did you just say?”

“Squeak Squeak.”

Master, I’ve missed you so much lately.

Shi Qian took the chance to climb out of his relaxed grasp and scampered up his arm like a parkour expert, landing on his shoulder.

As the formation spirit turned his head to look, Shi Qian slapped both little paws on the spirit’s face, then quickly switched to hugging the side of his face as if that had been his intention all along.

Smack—

“Squeak Squeak.”

Hug.

The formation spirit felt a bit suspicious—but not too much. After all, this was the first time someone had ever clung to him so affectionately.

No one’s born irritable; it’s just that these dumb disciples were too frustrating.

Letting the little beast hug him for a while, the formation spirit eventually barked, “Alright, get down. I’m in the middle of a lesson.”

But the way he peeled Shi Qian off was actually quite gentle—worlds apart from how he treated the disciples below.

Shi Qian even felt a bit embarrassed to continue his “sneak attack.”

He withdrew his little paws and pretended as if nothing had happened. “Squeak Squeak.”

Alright, alright, Master, please continue your lesson.

“You—” The formation spirit wanted to say ‘Sit properly,’ but this spirit beast wasn’t a real student after all. He had to swallow the rest of the sentence and lifted his head to continue explaining the similarities between sword formations and regular formations.

However, what he considered to be basic concepts—so simple they couldn’t be simpler—still seemed incredibly difficult to those disciples listening below.

Just as he was about to raise his voice again, he noticed the little beast on his shoulder had already begun nodding off. Its head bobbed up and down like a pecking chick.

Was this the quickest someone had ever fallen asleep during one of his classes?

Shi Qian could honestly recommend this as a cure for insomnia—it worked wonders.

But since he’d just said he missed the formation spirit, Shi Qian didn’t want to leave early. He forced himself to stay awake… until he just couldn’t anymore.

Down below, the disciples watched their notoriously irritable master lower his voice to teach, start to get angry, hold it in, and then resume speaking calmly.

Disciples: We get it now.

So this is what the formation grandmaster responds well to.

Up on the rooftop, even the black sword tried to listen in. In a way, formations were just another method of manipulating space.

The verdict?

Completely incomprehensible.

Forget it. It’s broad daylight—why not just enjoy the sunshine?

The formation spirit finally hit his limit. A flash of inspiration struck, and he quietly cast two high-grade sleeping formations on the little spirit beast, then raised his voice and happily began berating the disciples again.

Time passed, flowing along with the descent of the crimson sun.

Long after his lecture ended, Long Ye arrived at their agreed meeting place, only to find no sign of Brother Qian—nor any trace of the black sword.

He was a little surprised. Sensing they weren’t too far, he followed the direction of the aura.

Standing outside a window, Long Ye saw Brother Qian sprawled across the formation grandmaster’s shoulder, fast asleep.

And not just dozing—he was completely out cold.

The formation spirit also noticed this newcomer. He thought, What are you staring at? If you disrupt my class again, I’ll—

But then he remembered he’d cast sleeping formations on someone else’s spirit beast… and recalled Chang Youcai’s nagging words. A shiver ran through his heart.

This little beast had truly messed with his karma.

He quickly and quietly dispelled the formation, then gently shook the spirit beast on his shoulder. “Wake up. Don’t sleep here.”

But no matter how he shook him, Shi Qian wouldn’t wake up. Not even a twitch.

The formation spirit really should’ve had more confidence in the power of his own formations.

Now Long Ye fully realized something was wrong. Without a second thought for the ongoing lecture, he pushed straight into the room.

He unceremoniously took Brother Qian from the formation spirit’s shoulder, furrowed his brows, and demanded, “Formation Master, what happened to Brother Qian?”

“If he disturbed your class, that’s still no reason for this. How old are you? And how old is he?”

“It’s not that—I was worried about disturbing his nap!” the formation spirit defended himself.

Only after the words left his mouth did he realize he’d just tossed away a lifetime of dignity.

Long Ye: …?

So the Sword Sect doesn’t just have people going soft—now even their formation spirits are getting attached to other people’s spirit beasts?

From the bottom of his heart, Long Ye advised, “Master, if you truly want to raise one, perhaps you can go out and find your own.”

The formation spirit shouted, “Who said I want to raise one?!”

All those contradictory words and actions—how could Long Ye not see through them?

He was inwardly fed up. After confirming that Brother Qian was just deeply asleep, he tucked the little spirit beast into his robes and left.

After walking a while, he noticed Shi Qian’s spirit sword had fallen behind. It flew up to the rooftop, picked up the black sword, and brought it along.

On the way back, it even took the liberty of fixing the tiles on the palace roof.

It had been a long time, but the task was still second nature to him. Back in the Long family’s small courtyard, it had always been up to him to gather tiles and fix the roof to keep out the wind and rain.

Shi Qian finally woke up—three days later.

His head was groggy, and when he came to, he found himself lying in the study. Long Ye was reading quietly at the side.

Morning light filtered in through the window, faint and hazy, with a dreamlike quality.

“Squeak Squeak.”

Why did I fall asleep here?

“Brother Qian, do you remember where you fell asleep?” Long Ye asked him.

Shi Qian struggled to think with his sleep-addled brain, recalling how he was in the middle of teasing someone… and didn’t get to finish.

Feeling sluggish all over, Shi Qian didn’t want to move. He rolled over and hugged his fluffy tail.

“Squeak—”

I think it was on the Formation Master’s shoulder. I knew he couldn’t be trusted—he definitely did something to me!

“Squeak Squeak.”

And to think I went easy on him—only gave him two light slaps before stopping.

Long Ye recalled how, during the Formation Master’s lecture, some bold disciples had been muttering strange things like “I got so absorbed watching Master, I forgot to listen,” or “I missed everything, just thinking about him.”

He actually started to feel a bit sorry for the old master.

But that ridiculous sentiment was immediately squashed by Long Ye.

He nodded and took the opportunity to say, “Now you see why you have to be on guard around people, right? Even if it’s not a person, the principle’s the same. Even within our own sect, you should always be a little cautious.”

Shi Qian asked a few more questions and finally learned he had slept for several days.

As for the lessons he missed? Well… they were missed. So be it.

Shi Qian hugged his tail, completely unrepentant.

But then Long Ye pulled out seven or eight memory stones. “I recorded everything for you. Make sure to watch them.”

Shi Qian: ?

“Squeak—”

Aren’t memory stones expensive?

“They were just lying around in a clam shell. Didn’t cost any spirit stones. When it’s needed, use it. We’re not struggling like we used to.”

Shi Qian: You could’ve sold them! You money-wasting Dragon AoTian!

But he didn’t dare say it out loud. It would make it too obvious he didn’t want to review the lessons.

Shi Qian pulled out the memory stones and decided to start with the nutrition class given by that chubby sheep.

That one was essential. Last time, they went down to the river to catch fish and cooked them with spiritual spring water. It was a delicious “outdoor lesson.”

Right! He still hadn’t handed in his “homework” from that class!

Shi Qian pulled out the class schedule and waited until the nutrition class came around again. Once it did, he eagerly set off.

This time, since they weren’t going the same way, Shi Qian didn’t ask Long Ye to accompany him. Instead, he “rode” his signature black brick board.

“Squeak Squeak.”

Brother Ye, I’ll go on my own. I’ll be home tonight. Don’t worry.

Long Ye: Not very reassured.

But after all, they were in their own sect—the safest place in the entire cultivation world. He couldn’t keep Brother Qian tucked in his robes forever. Long Ye nodded, gave a few parting instructions, and watched as Brother Qian “rode his sword” and flew off ahead.

Once out of Cui Long Mountain, Shi Qian picked up speed.

The moment he appeared, he became the flashiest sight in the whole Sword Sect—none could compare.

All the disciples who flew past him or nearby turned to look, their eyes filled with confusion, puzzlement, and shock.

Shi Qian quickly evolved from being a little embarrassed to entering his full “I’m the coolest” mode.

As long as I don’t feel awkward, then it’s not me who’s awkward.

He stole the spotlight all the way into class. Because the elder teaching the nutrition class was tall, Shi Qian simply squatted on top of his black sword during the lesson.

The nutrition elder greeted the little spirit beast with a kindly smile: “Finally awake, huh? The Grand Elder punished the Formation Master to copy the sect rules. If you run into him again, just mention the Grand Elder.”

Shi Qian nodded obediently. “Squeak Squeak.”

Got it.

Then he pulled out his “homework” and trotted over to hand it in to this Nascent Soul elder.

“What’s this?” The elder took a few sheets of paper, and his smile immediately froze. “Did you… eat that little sheep?”

“Squeak Squeak.”

Shi Qian pointed at the homework paper. If I didn’t eat the sheep, how could I turn in my homework?

The elder let out a mix of laughter and exasperation: “That sheep was for you to raise.”

Shi Qian actively admitted his mistake. Then during the lesson, he cozied up to the elder and shared the most nourishing spiritual meals.

Black Sword, whose workload had skyrocketed today: …

“Zheng—”

Give me a bite.

Shi Qian didn’t want to get off his brick board, so he reluctantly split a bite of food and shared it with Black Sword.

After eating and attending class, Shi Qian flew over to Three-Foot Mountain.

But Little Ancestor Mo Sanchi wasn’t there—not even within the Sword Sect. Disciples at the foot of the mountain said she’d gone out again.

Strange. She just returned to the sect, and already there’s something urgent outside?

Shi Qian scratched his head and had no choice but to return.

In the blink of an eye, the first half of the adaptation period for new disciples passed.

On the Tenth Peak, signs of discord finally emerged.

Early one morning, before Peak Lord Wang Xingzhi arrived, Shi Qian was practicing his sword when he heard a commotion nearby. It seemed like two groups were arguing.

Curious, he wandered over and discovered they were fighting over who would be the Senior Brother of the Tenth Peak.

Being Senior Brother meant greater recognition in front of the elders—an early step forward meant many more would follow. There were other benefits too, naturally.

Not just the Tenth Peak—this sort of competition had been heating up across the other disciple peaks. In fact, the Tenth Peak was among the last to show signs of it.

Two exceptionally gifted male disciples were squaring off, seemingly ready to settle it with their swords.

Shi Qian, riding his big black sword, wobbled into the center and pointed at himself with a paw.

“Squeak Squeak.”

Little bros, no need to fight—Senior Brother is me.

Then, seeing that none of these folks understood “mouse-speak,” Shi Qian wrote out: “I, Senior Brother.”

Words that left the disciples collectively stunned.

Male Disciple #1: “Senior, you’re already a Nascent Soul–level elder…”

Male Disciple #2: “Exactly, Senior, are you kidding?”

The others began to catch on—some laughed and agreed, while others still looked confused. Amid the chatter, some even started privately calling him “Brother Qian” like before.

Shi Qian didn’t reveal that this was actually Wang Xingzhi’s idea. He simply looked at the two male disciples, sighed, and said, “Squeak Squeak.”

If you two hadn’t started arguing, I wouldn’t have had to reluctantly step in.

Without writing a single word, the message was loud and clear.

Obviously, the ones at fault were the noisy disciples—not the peak lord or any kind-hearted spirit beast.

The two disciples quieted down. Shi Qian thought the matter was settled—but these eager youngsters weren’t done. When Wang Xingzhi arrived, they went straight to him to bring up the issue.

Shi Qian, who loved a good drama, was just about to eavesdrop when he saw Wang Xingzhi’s expression darken for the first time.

“I’m the peak lord. Whoever I appoint as Senior Brother is the Senior Brother.”

“Calling us ‘Villain Peak’? That’s clearly a rumor from outside. No, I think it’s you, you little villain, who thinks that way!”

Shi Qian heard the words “Villain Peak” from afar and couldn’t help but feel speechless.

In terms of his role, Wang Xingzhi had never been anything but dedicated and competent. And now what—because he didn’t look tall and heroic enough, they doubted him? What a joke.

“Squeak Squeak.”

Trash them!

Shi Qian instinctively grabbed Black Sword’s hilt and charged out.

But his Silver Sword companion moved even faster—Zheng! A flash of silver light burst forth in rage.

Though it couldn’t understand what Shi Qian said, Silver Sword had been teetering on the edge of an outburst for a while. The slightest spark lit it up like fireworks.

“Xiao Yin!”

Wang Xingzhi barely managed to restrain the furious Silver Sword. But one disciple took advantage of the moment—subtly stepping forward half a step. As a result, his cheek was grazed by Silver Sword’s light, leaving a bloody cut.

Blood had been drawn.