Unintended Immortality-Chapter 444: An Autumn Journey to Yangzhou in the Ninth Year of Mingde

Chapter 444: An Autumn Journey to Yangzhou in the Ninth Year of Mingde

While the mountain villagers stood in shock and discussion, not one of them could have imagined that the immortal they speculated about—the master who had eliminated the evil god—was actually on a distant mountain peak, just across from them.

At this very moment, he was sharing a meal with a little girl, enjoying a dish that did not belong to this era.

“Daoist priest! You lied!”

“Hmm?”

“You lied!”

“When?”

“Yesterday!”

“What about yesterday?”

“You lied to those people who came to offer incense!”

The little girl held a piece of chicken tightly in both hands—it was the tendon knot, the toughest part. This was from a fully grown rooster that had lived for several years, and this particular piece was exceptionally firm. She gripped it with all her strength, pulling forward with her hands while biting down and pulling in the opposite direction with her teeth.

After struggling for who knows how long, the tendon finally snapped. The sudden release sent her upper body lurching backward, her head jerking as she wobbled from the force.

“I heard it!”

“Lady Calico, before speaking, you should swallow your food first.”

“Oh...” The little girl took the advice obediently, chewing diligently.

The tendon was chewy and firm, tough to break down. But rather than being tasteless, it was rich with the flavor of free-range chicken, becoming more fragrant the more she chewed.

Lady Calico was not the type to waste food.

She spent extra effort chewing the piece until it was completely soft, then swallowed it in one gulp before lifting her head and fixing her gaze on the Daoist once more.

“I heard it!”

“So I can't avoid it, huh...”

Song You sighed, shaking his head in resignation. He wasn’t in a hurry, though, and calmly asked in return, “That was merely a convenient response, said with good intentions. How could it be considered lying?”

“Hmm?”

“For example, Lady Calico,” Song You set down his chopsticks and spoke leisurely, “just a moment ago, when we were eating, I heard you exaggerate how you outwitted the Mountain God in the temple. It was quite the heroic tale—but didn’t you also add a few harmless details that weren’t entirely true?”

“Exaggerate?”

“That’s not important...”

“Harmless details that weren’t entirely true...” The little girl repeated his words, staring at him with a serious expression.

“Exactly.” Song You admitted without a hint of guilt, then continued, “But does that count as lying? Does that make you a dishonest cat who loves to tell lies?”

“Meow?”

“Of course not. That’s just one of your usual tricks for catching mice. Last night, it was simply a means to eliminate the evil god and protect the people. But in everyday interactions with others, you wouldn’t use such tricks.”

He looked at her and said gently, “So you're still an honest cat. And so am I.”

“...!” The little girl’s eyes widened in awe.

What an incredible Daoist priest! Such a complex principle, yet he explained it so clearly in just a few words!

Still gripping the chicken bone, Lady Calico felt a deep sense of admiration.

“I’m full.”

Song You set down his bowl and stood up. Wiping his mouth, he glanced down at the half-full iron pot. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Once you finish eating, just leave the pot here. We can have another meal at noon. After that, we’ll wash it clean and return it to the village. I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m a bit tired—I’ll take a nap first.”

“Okay!”

The mountain was silent and empty, the breeze light, the clouds drifting lazily.

Song You pulled a felt blanket from his pack, spread it on the ground, and lay down. He needed neither a quilt nor a pillow—his own arms were enough.

Above him, the sky stretched endlessly. The sky was always beautiful.

The white clouds hung like mist, their edges tinged with a faint blue, hinting at the vast heavens beyond. Yet that blue sky felt bottomless, as though it had no end. If one stared at it too long without looking away, it felt like an abyss—a vast, infinite chasm that pulled at the soul.

No matter how far one gazed, there was no reaching its end. Such boundlessness made one feel small—and with that feeling came a faint, unshakable sense of fear and awe.

But fear of the infinite was harmless. In fact, it was a feeling that nourished the soul. Song You loved watching the sky.

A swift flutter—

A swallow sliced through the sky, gliding effortlessly.

Nearby, the little girl had seemingly finished her meal, the soft clatter of her tidying up bowls and chopsticks filling the quiet mountaintop.

Song You continued to gaze at the sky for a while longer. When the sounds beside him faded into stillness, he finally turned his head.

What he saw was Lady Calico, crouched before a cluster of dry, yellow needlegrass. Her tiny figure curled up into such a small ball that she was barely taller than the grass itself.

She was completely silent, carefully braiding the fine strands of needlegrass as if they were hair—meticulously, one by one, weaving them into plaits.

Knowing that Song You was resting, she had found a way to entertain herself quietly.

Song You let out a small sigh, then turned back without saying a word. Instead of continuing to stare at the sky, he casually plucked two broad grass leaves, placed them over his eyes, and fell asleep.

Perhaps... This too was the life of an immortal. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

***

By the time he opened his eyes again, the afternoon sun had already dipped toward the western horizon.

The small mountaintop, spanning no more than a few yards in any direction, had undergone a peculiar transformation.

Every visible patch of needlegrass—aside from the portion that had been flattened under his felt blanket—had been braided into plaits.

Yet, the little girl was nowhere to be seen.

“...”

Song You sat up, then stood.

Walking to the edge of the mountaintop, he peered down—sure enough, the needlegrass on the slope below had also been neatly braided.

He followed the border between the braided grass and the untouched grass, circling the small mound of earth. After half a lap, he finally found her—

She was sitting sideways, knees tucked in, curled up in a ball, completely absorbed in her task.

At this moment, she was braiding yet another tuft of needlegrass, her small fingers moving deftly, completely focused, as if tireless.

“Lady Calico,” Song You called.

“Mm! Daoist priest, you're awake?” The little girl immediately lifted her head, her expression completely blank, her face fair and clean, as she gazed at him without the slightest hint of emotion.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m giving them braids!” Her face remained expressionless, but her response was quick and honest.

“Why didn’t you sleep?”

“Because we still have half a pot of chicken left uneaten.” Her gaze briefly lowered, checking on her work as she continued braiding. Clearly, after half a day of practice, her braiding skills had improved significantly. Without pausing, she gave the grass a single glance, then lifted her head and resumed staring at Song You.

“There are too many little thieves in the mountains. I was afraid they might come steal our food while we slept.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Then, as if remembering something, she added, “Besides, I noticed that you seem to enjoy braiding my hair. So, I wanted to try playing with it too.”

“Is it fun?”

“I don’t know...”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I can sleep on the horse later.”

“That’s tough on you...” Song You sighed and shook his head.

A cat that was too sensible wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

He rekindled the fire and added a bit more water to the pot to dilute the saltiness from the long-boiled broth. By the time he reheated the remaining half-pot of firewood chicken, every dry or half-yellowed tuft of needlegrass atop the small hill had already been given its own little hairstyle.

Thanks to that big red rooster, one man and one cat got to enjoy another satisfying meal.

Afterward, Song You used a bit of persuasion to talk Lady Calico out of washing the dishes, convincing her to return to her cat form and curl up inside the satchel on the horse's back for a nap.

He then took the pots and bowls down the mountain to find a spring, washing the dishes and storing them back in his pouch. He scrubbed the iron pot until it gleamed, refilled their water supply, and took out a facecloth and a toothbrush to freshen up with the cool mountain spring.

“Daoist priest...”

The calico cat peeked her head out from the pouch, groggily staring at him. “Where are we heading next?”

“If we keep going forward, we’ll reach Yangzhou.”

“Yangzhou?”

“Yes.”

“The same Yangzhou with the fox?”

“...”

Song You took a mouthful of mountain spring water, swished it around, and spat it out. Then, as he dipped his cloth into the water to dampen it, he replied, “There are no foxes waiting for us in Yangzhou anymore. But according to what the Anle God mentioned last night, the State Preceptor had once enshrined five gods in Yangzhou and its surrounding areas, assigning them to search for rare treasures.

“Based on what Anle God said at the time, it’s unclear whether these five deities were all up to no good, or if he simply assumed the Preceptor would silence everyone involved. Either way, I’ve decided to pay each of them a visit.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“No.”

“Then how are you going to find them?”

“...”

Song You wrung out the washcloth, shook it open, and turned toward the horse. The fabric was poor in quality and had been used for far too long—there was even a hole in it. But through that very hole, he happened to meet the gaze of the calico cat peeking out from the horse’s back.

He said, “The imperial court grants official titles to local gods, and the local government keeps records of them. The temples and shrines in the area also have written accounts. A visit would clear things up.”

“You’re really clever.”

“Not as clever as you, Lady Calico.”

“Your washcloth has a hole in it.”

“It’s just one hole—it can still be used for a while.” Song You was a sentimental person. Looking at the cloth, he couldn't help but feel that not only was it steeped in his own scent, but even its patterns—and now even the hole—seemed to fit against his own face. That made it all the harder to part with. “I’ll buy a new one when we get to Yangzhou.”

“A new one in Yangzhou!”

Swoosh...

Song You wrung out the cloth once more, then turned to look at the drowsy calico cat. Just as she was about to pull her head back, he moved first, pressing the cloth against her face.

“Lady Calico, you must wash your face before bed.” As he spoke, he rubbed and scrubbed her face in a mess of motions.

“There, all done. Sleep now.”

Satisfied, Song You withdrew his hand, gave the cloth another rub, and carefully put it away. Then he picked up the pot and prepared to set out.

At the foot of this mountain, there were households.

Yesterday, Song You had gone down to visit a few families to inquire about the deity of peace. He had found an elderly man who was easy to talk to and borrowed this large pot from him.

Perhaps the old man had found him to be a kind-looking, well-mannered Daoist, inquiring about an evil god no less, so he had lent him the pot without hesitation. The small string of coins Song You had left behind was to reassure the old man—to keep him from worrying that his pot had been used to dispel an evil spirit and thus losing sleep over it.

Now that the chicken was eaten and the pot no longer needed, Song You naturally returned it to the old man, reclaimed his string of coins, and even insisted on leaving a few extra as a rental fee.

With that, this matter was settled.

Leading his horse, Song You set off leisurely along the official road winding through the mountains. The sound of hooves and the occasional jingle of harness fittings rang out as they moved into the distance.

A few dozen li ahead lay Yangzhou. Yangzhou was the greatest prefecture under heaven.

In terms of prosperity and wealth, it surpassed even Angzhou, where the capital city, Changjing, was located. In terms of cultural heritage, even though Yizhou had once enjoyed the peak of literary prestige in this dynasty, it still had to bow to Yangzhou.

Upon entering the first county, the splendor was already apparent.