Unintended Immortality-Chapter 372: Flawless

“What are you looking at?”

“Meow!”

The cat looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she stopped at his feet and turned her head to continue surveying the Ghost City.

“Let’s go,” Song You said, resuming his pace behind the State Preceptor.

The cat followed suit, though she kept her head turned, glancing around and taking in the surroundings—up, down, left, and right.

Occasionally, she would get distracted and follow someone else, mistakenly straying from the group. Fortunately, Lady Calico was clever and alert, recognizing her Daoist priest’s and horse’s distinct footsteps. Realizing her mistake, she would look back, and upon seeing them, dart back to her group, repeating the process as they moved on.

“State Preceptor, this is quite a grand undertaking,” Song You remarked.

“You misunderstand, fellow Daoist,” the State Preceptor said with a smile. “Building a massive underground city like this with human labor alone would take countless years. Fortunately, Mount Ye and the surrounding mountains were naturally hollow inside, with faults running deep beneath the ground, almost like a preexisting subterranean world.

“We only needed to make some modifications. This was one of the main reasons I chose this location.”

He paused briefly, then sighed. “Still, it took many years and considerable manpower and resources...”

The sigh seemed genuine.

Since the State Preceptor had begun assisting in governance, he had introduced numerous policies benefiting the people—such as public welfare projects like the charity clinics, care homes, and communal burial grounds. He was deeply involved in disaster relief efforts and was even responsible for the affordability of Lady Calico’s elementary books.

The nearly 200 million citizens of Great Yan owed him more than they could count. Even if his motivations weren’t entirely pure, Song You preferred to believe they were genuine.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

At the very least, when the Ghost City at Mount Ye was completed years ago, the laborers were released and returned home. Along his journey, Song You had encountered some of them while asking for directions. Their praise for the State Preceptor had been overwhelmingly positive.

It was said that during their time working here, the laborers had been well-fed, better than they ate at home. Compared to situations where some constructed timeless wonders for the government, the court, or the royal family to showcase the prosperity of civilization to the heavens and future generations—yet still require the laborers to bring their own provisions—they were far better off. So much so that many had volunteered to work here.

Toward the end of construction, rumors spread that they were building an imperial tomb and that no one would be allowed to leave alive to keep the location a secret. The State Preceptor himself had addressed the workers, delivering a speech lasting an hour. His words convinced everyone.

True to his promise, the laborers returned home safely after the project was completed—and were even rewarded with money.

At least, the facts bore out the truth of the matter.

“In recent years, celestial deities from the Heavenly Palace have often entered my dreams to discuss Mount Ye’s Ghost City and the underworld,” the State Preceptor said as they walked. “This Ghost City has, in many ways, been influenced by them.”

Song You followed half a step behind the State Preceptor, glancing around as he walked.

The Ghost City, despite being built within the mountain, closely mimicked the layout of a human city. This wasn’t surprising—even the Heavenly Palace adhered to similar principles, with divine attire and makeup designed to match the aesthetics and customs of the mortal world.

Unbeknownst to him, a faint greenish-white light flickered in Song You’s eyes.

The air cleared, and the scene sharpened. Everything was revealed. The Ghost City showed its true form.

It was desolate, yet not entirely so.

The buildings and structures within the city seemed to be the work of the ghosts themselves. For yin spirits, these constructs were tangible and real, though for the living, they might waver between illusion and reality.

It reminded Song You of the Turtle City in Yanzhou—barren during the day, yet perfectly intact come nightfall.

He carefully surveyed the surroundings. The entire area was enveloped by a formation, likely set up by the State Preceptor.

However, it appeared to serve only to contain the ghostly qi and prevent it from leaking out.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“State Preceptor, you’re already a remarkable figure of our time,” Song You replied without hesitation, responding to the earlier conversation. “Even celestial deities of the Heavenly Palace were no greater in life. You need only heed the advice that is beneficial.”

“How could I be so carefree?” the State Preceptor replied with a wry smile. He continued walking ahead without turning back. “Fortunately, most of the advice from the deities has been sound.

“If the underworld is established, it would naturally require divine officials dispatched from the Heavenly Palace to govern it. Since both His Majesty and I have been offered positions, I have no objections. The only question is whether His Majesty will agree.”

“I’d like to hear more,” Song You said as he continued to inspect his surroundings.

But as he looked, his brow gradually furrowed.

The State Preceptor's involvement in governance as a practitioner of cultivation had always drawn disdain from scholars and dismissal from military officials. Add to that his twenty-year hold on immense power—anyone else in his position would have been thoroughly vilified.

Yet, someone like him, who managed to earn the respect and approval of most civil and military officials in court, along with widespread acclaim among the common people, was a rarity in history. Even Chen Ziyi held him in high regard—a feat that was anything but easy.

Song You couldn’t help but reflect. To harbor such doubts about a person of this caliber—was it right or wrong?

And yet, his suspicions were undeniably real.

“If the underworld is established, it must follow the model of the Heavenly Palace, with a ruler presiding over it. I need not say it, fellow Daoist; you likely already know who we’ve designated for the role,” the State Preceptor said with a resigned shake of his head.

He added, “However, in my dreams, the celestial deities insisted on assigning an Imperial Lord to oversee it, under the pretext of maintaining order there. This Imperial Lord would sit in authority, monitoring the officials of the netherworld and standing on equal footing with the ruler of the underworld.”

“Which Imperial Lord would that be?” Song You asked.

“That I do not know,” the State Preceptor replied, pausing briefly. “The Buddhists have also proposed stationing a representative here, below the two primary figures and uninvolved in governance. The Heavenly Palace appears to have no objections, and His Majesty is likely to agree as well.”

“I see...” Song You murmured as he continued to glance around, nodding thoughtfully.

The concept of the underworld and reincarnation was a fusion of Daoist and Buddhist teachings intertwined with folk beliefs. The current Western Paradise[1] of Buddhism was nominally under the jurisdiction of the Heavenly Palace. Given the imminent establishment of the underworld, granting Buddhists a prominent but powerless position there was not unexpected.

As for the emperor of Great Yan...

The emperor did not believe in Daoism or Buddhism; he recognized only his own supreme authority. The royal family was even constructing a Buddhist grotto on the banks of the Yuqu River, near the imperial boardwalk.

If he were to become the ruler of the underworld, even though the celestial palace belonged to the Great Yan, and the Great Emperor Chijin was said to be his direct ancestor, he might still be inclined to add a position for the Buddhist sect with celestial deities taking residence there—even without the Buddhists themselves bringing it up.

“The people’s tales of the underworld often include a Ghost King,” the State Preceptor continued. “Such beliefs, born of collective sentiment, cannot simply be disregarded. In Ghost City, I’ve initially proposed the establishment of three palaces.”

“Please elaborate,” Song You said, his tone calm as he continued his observations.

“The First Palace is responsible for registering all souls arriving in Ghost City, recording their details, assessing good and evil, and checking whether they have unresolved matters. The Second Palace oversees rewards and punishments—rewarding virtuous deeds and punishing wrongdoing. The Third Palace manages all souls residing in the underworld, ensuring they remain orderly, fulfill their duties, and cause no disturbances,” the State Preceptor explained, pausing briefly.

He said, “There should be a Fourth Palace, responsible for reincarnation. However, since the underworld is not yet fully formed, and there is no cycle of reincarnation, it currently exists only as an empty framework in Ghost City.”

1. In Buddhist funerals, a place called "Western Paradise" is considered the favorable destination for a soul that is departing Earth. In Chinese, we call this place "西天" (xītiān). ☜