LAVW – Chapter 98 Niuniu Herds the Cattle

“Everyone, carry on with your work. Don’t mind me.”

The young reporter saw that everyone had stopped working because of him and felt he was interrupting production.

Xu Youguang immediately stepped in to shoo people away, and before leaving, reminded Chen Niu to answer the reporter’s questions properly.

Shi Qian noticed that the words “properly” were emphasized.

Once the others had dispersed, the reporter said, “Comrade Chen Niu, I’m sorry — I might take up a little of your time.”

“It’s fine,” Chen Niu replied, shaking his head.

Still, he was a little nervous, so he reached out and rubbed Shi Qian’s head.

Shi Qian shook his head with a soft moo: “Moo-moo.”

Weren’t you supposed to be interviewing me?

The reporter was still amazed by the Qian Niuhua star and asked, “Comrade Chen Niu, what do you usually do that made the Qian Niuhua etch a five-pointed star into its heart?”

Chen Niu: …

The honest young man, who had almost never lied successfully in his life, could only stammer out something on the spot.

“Maybe… it saw it at home before, so it left an impression.”

For the details, you can ask my grandma to make something up for you later.

The reporter looked a little disappointed — he had expected something with more of a story.

Still, the matter itself was strange enough to spark his enthusiasm. He began asking other questions, eager to reconstruct the most genuine version of events.

Besides questioning Chen Niu, the reporter made a point of saying he would also ask others later — and that they should all tell the truth.

Chen Niu nodded without hesitation.

He wasn’t good at lying anyway.

Every time he’d tried before, the old lady had seen right through him.

So he’d developed the “good habit” of not lying — at most being a bit evasive when nervous.

The exchange went back and forth — all variations of How is your cow so amazing? My cow is just a cow — repeated in a loop.

Shi Qian felt embarrassed listening to it and turned his head to watch nearby, where Xu Aigang was scolding a young buffalo.

The young buffalo was already quite large and just as temperamental.

With no other choice, Xu Aigang and another old hand had to crack their whips to scare the buffalo into plowing, wobbling crookedly along.

The reporter looked over. “Is the Qian Niuhua also trying to plow?”

“Oh no, I got carried away asking questions — I can’t keep you from working. Comrade Chen Niu, why don’t you go ahead and plow with our comrade cow first?”

Shi Qian: …

I don’t want to. Stop talking nonsense.

But since he still had to eat the team’s grass, the little yellow cow dutifully went to work.

Chen Niu, relieved, led the calf to the field.

The cow was in front, Chen Niu holding the rope behind. He gave it a slight tug and said, “Go straight.”

Shi Qian didn’t dare show off this time and pulled the plow straight ahead, step by step.

Just… a bit too fast.

“Slow down, slow down! It’s not something you rush,” Chen Niu called.

“Moo-moo.”

Got it. Thanks for the reminder.

Shi Qian slowed his steps, moving forward at a steady pace.

The reporter, seeing that things were going smoothly, went over to where Xu Aigang and the others were.

“Comrades, are you also teaching the calf to plow?”

“Why do you two need to handle one, while over there it only takes one person?”

Xu Aigang sighed. “The Qian Niuhua is obedient, clever, and listens well.”

The young buffalo, unjustly dragged into comparison, bellowed moo—! loud enough to shake the field.

Xu Aigang hurried to soothe him. “Our Brother Shui is great too! Strong, with good bones!”

Shi Qian made a note of that name “Brother Shui.” Next time he visited the cowshed, that’d count as an “acquaintance.”

Time passed quickly as Shi Qian “slacked off” yet somehow still managed to plow efficiently. By eleven o’clock, the work was done — with several short breaks in between.

After finishing early, Chen Niu led the calf home, the curious reporter tagging along.

Once he handed the man over to the old lady, Chen Niu finally sighed in relief and unfastened the rope around Shi Qian.

Shi Qian looked at his muddy legs, then at Chen Niu’s, and nudged him toward the water pump.

The well water there was cool in summer and warm in winter.

Chen Niu pumped out a little — once the first chill passed, it turned pleasantly lukewarm underground water.

Man and cow washed the mud off their legs together. Meanwhile, the old lady sat inside the main room and took out a faded old five-pointed star.

Just as Shi Qian finished washing and was about to listen in on the interview, he caught the tail end of Zhang Peyue’s story —

“Sometimes, when I tell the child stories about the past, the Qian Niuhua listens very intently, as if it truly understands.”

“When I can’t help but cry, the Qian Niuhua comes to my side to comfort me.” Zhang Peyue wiped her tears, her eyes looking toward the doorway.

Walking ahead, Shi Qian turned back to glance at Chen Niu.

“Moo-moo.”

See? You should learn from her. Hear how much heart she puts into it — so much story, so much emotion.

Chen Niu’s mind had only three words: Can’t learn that.

The young reporter looked up, scribbling quickly across his notepad — clearly struck with new inspiration.

Shi Qian suspected what he wrote might not exactly match reality.

But that didn’t matter.

The reporter, after hearing Zhang Peyue’s tale of Da Niu and Xiao Niu’s legacy, went on to interview others — and judging by his earnestness, the story was definitely making it into the paper.

Ever since the reporter’s visit, Shi Qian had gone from a “famous cow” to a big-name cow.

For example, in the past, children in Shengli Village would often hear their parents say— “Look at so-and-so’s kid, and then look at yourself.”

Now it had turned into—

“Look at Qian Niuhua, he even got into the newspaper! You dummy, you’re not even as good as a cow!”

Walking past someone’s house, Shi Qian overheard this and quickened his pace in disgust.

What do you mean by ‘not even as good as me’?

Unbelievable. Has anyone ever considered how the cow feels about that?

At times like this, Chen Niu’s blunt honesty would come out too: “I heard that their Dandan failed another exam this year—how could he possibly be as smart as Qian Niuhua?”

Shi Qian: “…”

He felt… comforted, but also not quite comforted.

Poor Dandan. Next time there’s an exam, how about I take the test for you?

That is—if your teacher allows students to bring cows into the exam room.

After plowing, there was always new work waiting.

For Shi Qian, everything still felt new. But the most carefree days were probably when they went up the mountain to chop firewood.

Once they reached the mountain, Chen Niu would always find something new—some little snacks or treats.

Whatever they didn’t finish eating, Shi Qian had to carry on his back.

By the time they finished walking the mountain paths, he’d somehow managed to feed himself too.

Compared to farm work, spending hours each day walking into the mountains to chop wood, then hauling it all the way back, was much harder for Lin Nanyin.

Even with padding on her shoulders, the skin still got rubbed raw. Most importantly, her shoulders weren’t used to such heavy loads over long distances.

After three days of this, Shi Qian noticed something was wrong with her shoulders and guessed the reason.

That afternoon, Chen Niu arrived carrying two heavy bundles of firewood on a pole.

Lin Nanyin counted the days.

It hadn’t even been ten.

Puzzled, she asked, “What’s wrong, Comrade Chen Niu?”

“I came to help you carry the firewood,” Chen Niu replied simply, glancing at Qian Niuhua.

Shi Qian immediately turned his head away.

Don’t sell me out, okay?

I’m just an ordinary yellow cow.

So Chen Niu had to do it himself. But surprisingly, the educated youth Lin didn’t stubbornly refuse him this time. On the way, she even asked if he’d been reading high school textbooks lately—she was pretty good at physics, chemistry, and biology back then.

Once they started talking about studying, the two suddenly had a lot in common.

Chen Niu carried half of Lin Nanyin’s load without feeling it was heavy at all.

In fact, Shi Qian thought he was practically floating as he walked.

Listening to their lively discussion about academics, Shi Qian—who had recently reached fourth-grade arithmetic—felt like sighing.

He wanted to review physics, chemistry, and biology too. He was tired of elementary school problems.

Maybe he should study faster?

But if he went too fast…

He might scare people.

Aside from the busy farm work, Shi Qian also started using his brain—trying to modify some cultivation techniques he’d learned in the immortal world, to see if he could still practice here.

After much experimentation, he found that only at sunrise could he barely sense the faintest trace of spiritual energy—so thin it was almost nonexistent.

Even if he cultivated for half a year, he probably wouldn’t gather as much as he used to in a single session.

The difference wasn’t in talent—it was purely the environment.

Still, even that faint trace was worth pursuing. Shi Qian persisted, since he was up early and late anyway, always grazing somewhere along the way.

Watching the sunrise just came naturally.

Meanwhile, Chen Niu was starting to feel the pressure of Qian Niuhua’s “prodigy” reputation.

He was a teacher, after all. Elementary school material was already running out—how long until the middle school curriculum ran out too?

As for high school… well, he didn’t know much of that himself.

He had to study. And fast.

So Chen Niu threw himself into studying with full force, pushing aside his disappointment over not receiving any letters.

Studying was great—it gave him common ground with Lin Nanyin, and he even got to teach his “ancestor.” Chen Niu genuinely felt that learning was a joyful thing.

So much so that when his colleague Xu Aigang went out to herd cows, Chen Niu just handed the task to Shi Qian, sat down, and buried himself in a book.

It was a biology textbook. Chen Niu read as he murmured aloud.

Shi Qian: “Moo, moo.”

Go for it, brother—I’ll take care of the cows today.

Shi Qian had figured out that the other cows were afraid of him because of his “dragon bull” aura.

With his constant grazing, his body had visibly grown stronger, and his horns had also lengthened—soft light brown tips blending into creamy beige toward the base, curving outward and upward.

They were still young horns, smaller than his overall frame, and looked rather cute.

Shi Qian sneaked a glance toward the small lake, then turned back to herd the wandering cows toward the center of the field.

The cows followed him forward, leaving Chen Niu crouched there, reciting from his book in a mumble.

Behind the slope, a little boy was leading his “big brother” and several younger kids closer.

“Are you sure there’s a ghost? You’re not lying, right?”

“Why would I lie? Just past the two hills behind my house is the cemetery.”

As they crept nearer, the kids fell silent, ears perked, straining to hear the strange muttering. Combined with the half-heard words, it sent chills down their spines.

They exchanged glances—some already wanting to turn back.

The “big brother” snorted and bravely charged ahead… only for his legs to give out, sending him tumbling down the slope.

The others were knocked down with him, rolling together in a chaotic pile, shrieking and yelling.

Hearing the noise, Chen Niu finally snapped out of his studies and stood up, momentarily stunned.

Down the slope, Shi Qian heard the cries of “Ghost! Ghost!” and burst out laughing—with a cow’s bellow.

“Moo—moo—!”

Unfortunately, that also startled everyone nearby.

And that’s how Chen Niu’s secret—that he’d been letting a cow herd cows—was exposed.

He now sat across from Xu Youguang, head drooping, enduring a stern lecture.

Meanwhile, Shi Qian wandered off to the barn, playing with the fluffy, wide-eyed calves.

Sure, he had taken part in herding the cows—but as for the scolding…

It has nothing to do with Niu Niu.