Unintended Immortality-Chapter 305: A Genuine Tale of an Extraordinary Encounter

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Chapter 305: A Genuine Tale of an Extraordinary Encounter

Dong Zhi sipped from the edge of his bowl, slurping the paste.

The military ration—millet paste—had an utterly mediocre taste. It was not as good as rice porridge, nor even millet porridge. However, Dong Zhi hadn’t eaten a proper hot meal in a long time. To his surprise, the paste included shredded rabbit meat, wild vegetables from the forest, and even salt. As he ate, he couldn't help but feel touched, as if he had just tasted some kind of top-tier delicacy.

And again, he began to suspect it might all be an illusion.

“Sir... Since you are from Yizhou, what brings you here?” Dong Zhi cautiously glanced at Song You.

“I descended the mountain to wander and explore, traveling wherever my feet take me, with no fixed abode,” Song You replied with a gentle smile. “As for why I came here... it’s much the same as you. I sought to witness the majesty of the famed Yuezhou divine bird.”

“And when do you plan to leave, sir?”

“IWe’ll rest for the night, and we’ll leave at dawn,” Song You said to him. “From here, it’s only a matter of a few dozen li to exit this Qingtong Forest. By late morning, you’ll be out.”

“A few dozen li...” Dong Zhi couldn’t help but feel dazed.

Dozens of li might not seem far, yet he almost died here.

“Since you came through Guangzhou, I presume you’ll head back the same way. Once you’re out of here, you should go south. As for us, we’ll head east to Zhaozhou. Likely, it won’t be until next spring that we pass through Zhaozhou and arrive in Hanzhou,” Song You added. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll see you safely out.”

“Out...”

Dong Zhi spaced out again.

He feared the next words from the Daoist would send him to sleep. And when he was just about to fall asleep or just woke up, he would find himself still curled up in the miasma-filled forest, his body long since numb from the cold. By then, there might be no trace of any people, campfires, or millet paste nearby—nor the deer which had become a demon, or the wind-blocking parasol tree.

But Song You said no such thing. Instead, he encouraged him to eat slowly and engaged him in lighthearted conversation.

He asked whether traveling through Guangzhou to Yuezhou was easier than the route through Zhaozhou. He asked him about the state of Hanzhou—what the situation there was like, its famous sights, scenic spots, and myths and legends.

Then he inquired about places worth visiting while traveling the world, followed by whether he had encountered any demons, monsters or ghosts while crossing half of Yuezhou, and how many households he had come across. The conversation flowed rather pleasantly.

At last, the bowl of paste was finished.

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Dong Zhi felt warm and comforted, but an inexplicable sense of foreboding gnawed at him, tightening his chest.

Sure enough, the Daoist across from him said, “You’ve endured cold and hunger, and your body has already taken a toll. Moreover, you’ve been exposed to the miasma of this forest. Though you’ve had some warm food and water and feel more awake, you shouldn't exert yourself too much.

“If you don’t rest well, even after leaving this place, you may suffer lingering effects for the rest of your life. It’s best to get some proper sleep for now. Come morning, we’ll wake you and guide you out. Please, set your mind at ease.”

Dong Zhi’s heart skipped a beat. There it was—it had come at last. The scene, the dialogue—it was all so familiar.

At that moment, he realized that this place was thick with miasma, indeed. Without talismans for protection, one’s head would spin, their skin would fester, and sores would sprout at the corners of their mouth. Yet, since waking, he had felt perfectly clear-headed, as if the miasma hanging around him was no more than ordinary mist.

“Damn...” Surely, if he fell asleep now, he might never wake again. Or worse—he’d wake to find himself right back where he started.

He really didn’t want to sleep...

For some reason, it seemed that after eating and drinking his fill, with his body warmed up, a bit of drowsiness naturally crept in. Or perhaps, as the Daoist mentioned, his body had indeed been weakened by the hunger, cold, and miasma. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but as soon as the Daoist pointed it out, all the fatigue came rushing to the surface.

Perhaps it was the Daoist’s calm tone, his gentle demeanor, like that of an immortal master descended to relieve mortal suffering. Or perhaps it was the flickering firelight and the dry, warm blanket around him, lulling him into a sense of peace and drowsiness.

Whatever it was, Dong Zhi couldn’t fight it. Sleepiness washed over him, and his eyelids drooped although he didn’t want to fall asleep. Before he could resist, his body betrayed him, collapsing to the side on its own.

He managed only a final glance at the figure in front of him.

The Daoist’s expression remained as calm and gentle as ever. The little girl sat obediently beside him, her curious gaze fixed on Dong Zhi. The horse stood nearby, munching on something, while the swallow perched on its back glanced in his direction.

Dong Zhi’s eyelids fluttered shut, and he drifted off into sleep.

This wasn’t like an ordinary sleep, where one retains some awareness, knowing they had slept for a while. If a bit more lucid, one might even be able to tell whether it was a long or short sleep. But Dong Zhi had none of that. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep; it was as if this period of time had simply vanished from existence.

It didn’t feel like an entire night had passed. It was as if he had merely closed his eyes and opened them again.

“Ah!!” Dong Zhi jolted upright, startled awake.

When he finally woke up, the world around him was bathed in daylight. The miasma still hung heavy in the surrounding air, and the towering parasol trees loomed like massive pillars, piercing through the mist and clouds above. The surreal scene felt less like the mortal realm and more like an ancient, demonic domain.

Dong Zhi quickly scanned his surroundings. He was still wrapped in the thin blanket. The fire pit from the night before was now nothing but a pile of embers. The rein-free jujube-red horse stood not far away from where it was the night before, its jaws rhythmically chewing on something. The Daoist and the little girl sat calmly nearby with their belongings already packed, both of them watching him with quiet interest.

“This...” Dong Zhi felt a wave of reassurance wash over him. He quickly got to his feet, looking around with a somewhat dazed expression.

“You’re awake?” the Daoist asked.

“Yes... I’m awake,” Dong Zhi replied.

“How are you feeling?”

“I... I feel good.”

“Since that’s the case, let’s go,” said the Daoist.

“Alright...”

Dong Zhi was utterly without a will of his own at this point. Whatever the Daoist said, he simply obeyed.

He got up, intending to fold the thin blanket. But the little girl quickly took it from him, neatly folding it and tucking it into the saddle bag. Once the Daoist had secured the saddle bag onto the jujube-red horse’s back, they set off.

Dong Zhi followed behind, still chewing on a small portion of millet cakes and a piece of rabbit meat the little girl had handed him. Her tiny hands carried only a small share of food—it was their breakfast for the morning.

Dong Zhi stumbled a little as he walked and ate. The little girl, meanwhile, alternated between riding the horse, hopping down to walk, snapping twigs off branches to beat into bushes everywhere, or pulling out a small dagger to prod and scratch at things along the way. She seemed playful and lively.

The swallow flew ahead to guide their way, diligent and chirping incessantly. From time to time, it soared into the sky, only to return a while later.

The jujube-red horse followed quietly and obediently. Meanwhile, the Daoist walked with his staff, speaking sparingly.

At one point, a distant bear’s roar sent Dong Zhi into a panic. However, the little girl casually waved her small flag, and in an instant, a dozen massive wolves appeared. Before the bear could even come into view, it had already been scared off.

The Daoist turned to the little girl and chuckled, saying, “Before I even realized it, you’ve grown into a great demon capable of standing against bears and tigers, Lady Calico.”

The words “Lady Calico” and ” and “great demon” left a deep impression on Dong Zhi.

However, as the group had shown no malice toward him, and he had no other options, he simply continued to follow them.

By late morning that day, they had already exited the Qingtong Forest. It took until mid-afternoon, however, to fully leave the range of the heavy mists and miasma.

The landscape remained snow-covered, the entire world seemingly blanketed in white. A few trees stood along the path, their branches thick and full—not with leaves, but with glistening white ice crystals that resembled a mix of frost and snow. Ahead, the world was clear and bright; turning back, however, revealed a dense, foggy expanse.

Dong Zhi looked dazed. He felt as though he had just stepped out of some ancient realm and back into the real world.

It was at this moment that the Daoist stopped walking.

Pointing southward, the Daoist turned to Dong Zhi and said, “The miasma ends here. If you wish to head to Guangzhou, you must travel south. You have the skills to survive in the wilderness, and since our paths diverge, we will not accompany you further.”

“I... I...” Dong Zhi stammered. He reached out and pointed ahead, as if unable to believe it. “I can go back?”

“Yes,” the Daoist replied with a smile, nodding. “But the road ahead is still long. I wish you a safe journey. Please be more cautious.”

“This...”

“Please, go ahead.”

Dong Zhi stumbled forward a few steps.

He recalled how, just a few days ago, he had been trapped in the Qingtong Forest, surrounded by thick miasma and obscuring mist, where every direction felt the same no matter where he turned.

Yet now, in just half a day, he had made it out. Thinking back to the ancient, otherworldly scene of the fog-filled forest and comparing it to the pristine, snow-covered world before him, he couldn’t help but feel as if he were in a dream.

Raising his hand, Dong Zhi touched his face. He intended to wake himself up but was startled to realize that the sores and blisters that had once marred his face were gone. His skin felt clean and smooth. Quickly, he ran his tongue over his lips and found no trace of pain or irritation.

It only made everything feel more like a dream.

Dong Zhi turned back instinctively.

In the snow, a scattered trail of footprints led back to an enormous tree adorned with frost-like rime, as pristine and crystalline as snow or ice. The trees were adorned with frost that shimmered like snow, ice, and crystal, an unparalleled beauty.

The entire world was wrapped in a silvery blanket, and the Daoist stood calmly, one hand holding a staff and the other leading the little girl while meeting his gaze with serenity. Beside him, the jujube-red horse stood out vividly against the snowy backdrop, while the swallow had perched on a tree branch, lowering its head to watch him as well.

“...”

Dong Zhi couldn’t help but let out a wry chuckle.

Yesterday, the Daoist had remarked that Dong Zhi might only realize whether this was reality or a dream once he returned to Hanzhou. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it, but now, he still felt as if he were dreaming. Perhaps even as he continued southward, this dreamlike feeling would persist.

It might only be when he reached Guangzhou, entered the city, saw signs of life, or even returned to Hanzhou and met familiar faces, that he could finally be sure this wasn’t all just a dream.

If it truly wasn’t a dream, then he must have met a divine immortal—just like the ones in the stories he had spent half of his life telling.

Staggering forward, Dong Zhi grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

The Daoist remained standing, watching him until his figure had faded into a speck on the horizon and the footprints trailed far beyond sight. Only then did the Daoist lower his gaze.

It was at this moment that he felt something and turned back to glance behind him. The miasma thrived within the mountain forest, shrouding it completely. Yet within the miasma, there was the silhouette of a deer.

The deer didn’t move, lifting its head to meet his gaze.

Feeling slightly puzzled, the Daoist cupped his hands together in a respectful gesture and asked, “Your Excellency, do you have something to convey?”

The deer, smaller than even a goat, lifted its head to meet his gaze. After a brief pause, it spoke in a soft, ethereal voice, “I've heard tales of an immortal master in the western region of Yanzhou, someone who journeyed from Hezhou, slaying demons and vanquishing malevolent creatures along the way.

“I heard that the immortal master exterminated many demons who broke the natural order in Yanzhou. Could that be you, Daoist Master?”

“How did you come to know this?”

“The northern lands are rife with demons. Though I cultivate in the forests of northern Yuezhou, I often hear interesting stories from beyond.”

“And what are you trying to say?”

“Where do you hail from, Daoist Master?”

“Don’t you already know? I’ve come from Hezhou and Yanzhou.”

“And where are you heading?”

“To wander the world.”

“Have you seen all of Yuezhou?”

“Most of it.”

“...”

The deer glanced around, turning its head left and right, seemingly hesitant. Then, it spoke again, “Yuezhou has many demons and countless fascinating things. Daoist Master, you should spend more time in Yuezhou and observe more closely.”

With that, before Song You could ask any further questions, the deer bolted. It dashed into the dense mist behind it, disappearing without a trace.