Unintended Immortality-Chapter 532: Who Says the Desert Is Unwelcoming?

“Bang, bang, bang...”

Song You held a piece of baked flatbread in one hand and a rock in the other, striking it forcefully.

The baked flatbread was dry—hard as iron—almost impossible to break apart.

No wonder it was the preferred ration for crossing the desert.

“Bang, bang...”

Lady Calico lay beside him, taking refuge in his shadow, watching in stunned silence.

With each loud strike, her entire body trembled slightly.

After a while, as if unable to bear the sight any longer, she quietly crept out from the shade. Extending a delicate, white paw, she flexed her fingers, revealing a single claw.

She swiped gently at the surface of the baked flatbread.

Her delicate, curved claw was pristine as icy jade. Though it was clearly shorter than the bread’s thickness and had merely skimmed its surface, it effortlessly sliced off a piece.

Silently, she retreated back into the shade.

Lifting her head, she stared at the Daoist.

“...”

The Daoist lowered his gaze, meeting the cat’s unblinking stare. With a sigh, he said, “Lady Calico, this is really unnecessary.”

The cat remained silent, still watching him intently.

She seemed determined to see how he was going to eat that rock-hard flatbread.

“Sigh...” Song You let out a long breath.

The hardest part of the baked flatbread was its outer crust. It was tough as stone. The inside was slightly softer, but still as dry and dense as hardened clay. He broke off a small piece, placed it in his mouth, and slowly softened it with his warmth and saliva.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he tilted his head up to look at the sky.

The sun seemed determined to melt the earth.

The desert stretched endlessly, boundless and infinite.

Finally, the bread softened enough to release its subtle wheat aroma, mixed with the faint fragrance of sesame seeds. A light sweetness, a faint saltiness—standing in the middle of this vast desert, it was surprisingly pleasant.

He finished one small piece, then broke off another.

But soon, his throat grew dry, forcing him to take a sip of water. Though, he dared not drink too much.

The cat was still staring at him.

After a long moment, she finally shifted her gaze, turning away—only to suddenly dart off like a bolt of lightning. She dashed toward a shaded sandbank and began digging furiously.

Sand flew into the air, scattering everywhere.

Within mere breaths, she returned, a sand-colored lizard clamped triumphantly in her jaws.

Striding back with the air of a victorious general, she dropped the lizard in front of Song You. Then, lifting her head, she stared at him with an unwavering, expectant gaze.

“Eat this!” Lady Calico finally spoke.

“No, thank you,” Song You replied, calmly breaking off another piece of baked flatbread.

“Eat!” The cat prodded the lizard with her paw.

“Lady Calico, you eat it yourself.”

“They eat this here! They roast it!” Lady Calico urged. “It tastes just like the chicken you like!”

“I have baked flatbread.”

“It's not tasty!”

“It's alright.”

“It has no meat!”

“Next time, for sure.”

“...!”

Lady Calico tilted her head back, her expression growing more serious. She stared at him for a long moment before finally withdrawing her gaze. Shaking her head, she picked up the lizard and retreated into the shade to eat it.

After finishing their midday meal, they continued forward.

The terrain shifted between golden sands and pale dunes, alternating between stretches of desert and rocky Gobi plains. Following the direction Prefect Zhang had provided, Song You pressed on toward Terraflame Kingdom.

The farther they walked, the hotter it became.

The air temperature soared beyond body heat, and the sand's surface was hot enough to burn exposed skin in an instant. Lady Calico was forced to shift into her human form again, donning shoes to walk. Thick clothing now offered more protection from the heat than thin garments.

Above them, the sky was an unbroken blue. Beneath them, the land was an endless expanse of yellow. There was no sign of vegetation, nor any trace of animals.

At first, Lady Calico would occasionally stop, her gaze fixed on a particular spot, as if sensing a lizard, a snake, or a scorpion burrowed beneath the sand—evidence that this place was not entirely lifeless.

But after two days of walking, even those small creatures became rare.

Navigating the landscape grew increasingly difficult. Distinguishing direction became a challenge. Time itself felt strangely elusive.

A handful of sand slipping through one’s fingers might have been lying there for tens of thousands of years. The endless dunes, the boundless horizon—perhaps they had looked exactly the same a millennia ago, and perhaps they would look the same long after they were gone.

Even after they left this place, even after they reached the end of their own lives, the desert would remain—unchanged, eternal.

It was as if time here moved at two extremes, both incredibly slow and impossibly fast.

How many travelers had walked this path before? How many would walk it in the future?

It was likely that the landscape Song You and Lady Calico beheld now was no different from what people had seen centuries or millennia ago. And centuries or millennia from now, if others were to pass through, they would witness the very same sights. Like the stars overhead, unchanged through the ages.

The feeling was indescribable. It was as if time here existed in a paradox, both blurred and sharply defined.

Walking through it felt like stepping toward the very end of the world and time itself—an immense solitude, yet also an unparalleled test of endurance and self-cultivation.

“Lady Calico, have you ever seen a salt tower?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a very tall and massive tower. When it operates, its peak shines like white jade, radiating an intense light. On a clear day, even from dozens of li away, you can see its dazzling glow—like a second sun on earth, too bright to look at directly,” Song You explained as he walked. “It is a testament to human ingenuity, a miracle of mankind.”

“I’ve never seen a salt tower[1].”

“Hopefully, you will one day.”

“Where is the salt tower?”

“It’s in the future,” Song You said, pressing his lips together before adding, “Maybe.”

“How far in the future?”

“How long? I don’t know,” Song You admitted helplessly. “All I can do is try to make it come faster.”

“You’re not very smart.”

“I know.” Song You’s voice was quiet, conserving his saliva in the heat. “If I were as smart as you, Lady Calico, I’d make it arrive by tomorrow.”

“Mm...” The little girl turned her head to look at him, her amber-colored eyes studying him closely.

After a while, her sharp gaze softened ever so slightly. Yet, she still asked curiously, “Why did you suddenly bring that up?”

“I just miss it, that’s all.”

“Miss it?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand...”

“...”

The Daoist continued walking, leaning on his staff, pressing his lips together as if choosing not to dwell on the topic any further.

Instead, he turned his head and asked, “Then, Lady Calico, have you ever heard this saying?”

“I’ve heard many sayings!”

“Every star in the sky corresponds to a grain of sand on earth,” Song You said calmly. “Right now, you’re stepping on countless stars.”

“Mm...” The little girl immediately looked down at her feet.

“Isn’t that interesting?”

“Mm...” The little girl turned her head forward, her small face expressionless. “It’s too hot. Let’s talk less.”

“...”

Song You fell silent.

For her to realize that on her own was quite rare.

The thought gave him a small sense of comfort, and he withdrew his gaze, continuing forward in quiet contemplation.

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson—the grand spectacle of another desert sunset.

The Daoist and his companions pressed on through the dunes.

But as the temperature gradually dropped from scorching to pleasantly warm, the sand beneath their feet cooled from burning hot to gently warm, and Lady Calico transformed back into a cat once more.

“Whoosh...”

A swallow soared through the air and landed atop the horse’s head. It preened its feathers briefly before speaking. “Sir, up ahead should be Terraflame Kingdom. The ground is burning for ten li—fire is everywhere. Our direction is correct. However, we’re still several dozen li away, so we probably won’t reach it until tomorrow.”

“Then tomorrow it is.”

“Shall we rest here for the night?”

“There’s no rush. Let’s keep walking while the twilight lasts.”

“Alright!”

The desert was cast into shadow, stretching the figures of the travelers into elongated silhouettes.

As they walked, Lady Calico turned her head, curiosity rekindled by the cooler air. She looked at the swallow with a puzzled expression. “Why do you always call him but never call me when you speak?”

The swallow froze for a moment atop the horse’s head.

Because Lady Calico doesn’t make the decisions.

“Because... because you have far more important matters to attend to! You’re busy from dawn till dusk. Such trivial things do not require—ah, nor dare I trouble you with them!”

It was obvious that while the swallow had spent years listening to the Daoist and Lady Calico’s banter, absorbing their conversations over time, its natural instincts had limited its ability to master their style of speech. Its speech sounded awkward, and it sometimes stuttered.

“...?”

The cat blinked, staring at the swallow in confusion.

If humans couldn’t discern a cat’s facial expressions, how could a cat possibly read the expression of a bird whose face was covered in feathers?

“I see,” she finally said.

The cat nodded, and once she accepted something in her heart, she became cheerful again. Soon, she asked another question, “Then why do you always land on the horse’s head when you rest? Sometimes you perch on the Daoist priest’s shoulder, but you never land on my back. You’re so small. I could carry you easily.”

“Because... because you’re already busy taking care of me and Mr. Song You every day! You must be so tired. How could I possibly add to your burden?”

“But you’re so tiny, you don’t weigh anything at all. I could even carry you in my mouth while walking.”

“...”

The swallow froze in terror.

Fortunately, it was in its bird form. If it had been in human form, its face would have cycled from its natural color to bright red and then to stark white.

“Th-that won’t be necessary.”

“Why meow?”

“The... The horse’s head is wider! It’s much more stable to stand on! Your back is narrow, uneven, and covered in long fur. It’s not quite... suitable for perching!”

The swallow was truly in a battle of wits.

It was struggling to come up with a proper response while also trying to use the “high-level conversation techniques” it had picked up from observing the Daoist and the cat. It was a real challenge.

“That’s true.”

Lady Calico nodded in agreement before suddenly inviting, “Then tonight, come hunting with me! The sand hides snakes, lizards, and scorpions. There are fewer and fewer of them here, and during the day, they burrow deeper than before. But at night, they’ll come out. I’ll take you hunting, and tomorrow we can roast them over a fire to eat!”

“L-Lady Calico, I’m just a bird.”

“Then forget it.”

“Phew...”

“Then come roll in the sand with me! The sand is warm, rolling in it is just like taking a hot bath!”

“N-no, that’s alright...”

“Then you...”

The Daoist, eyes straight ahead, continued walking with his staff.

Suddenly, he loosened the cloth covering his face, unable to suppress a smile.

The sun had already set in the distance, yet the horizon had reached its most breathtaking moment.

***

That night, there was no bonfire—there was no wood to burn. But there was the lingering radiance of the sunset, and above them, the stars gradually emerged.

It seemed that until dawn, the world would never be completely dark.

The night brought a breeze, carrying a slight chill.

Lady Calico was not happy.

She had spent a great deal of effort running far and wide, catching two small snakes and several scorpions to offer to her Daoist. But first, the Daoist said he wouldn’t eat them raw because there was no firewood. She said she could breathe fire to cook them, but then he said he didn’t eat food cooked with spiritual fire.

She thought long and hard before coming up with a method to roast them using sand as insulation—only for him to say that there was still one honeydew melon left, and if it wasn’t eaten today, it would spoil.

So honeydew melon spoils if left uneaten, but scorpions and snakes don’t?

Unimpressed, she flopped down beside him, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

But as the night deepened, the temperature continued to drop, and the stars became even more brilliant.

She gazed at them for a long time, and as if forgetting her earlier irritation, she eventually crawled over to the Daoist’s side, speaking to him softly.

“If there’s a grain of sand on the ground, does that mean there’s a star in the sky to match it?”

“That’s what people say.”

“But there aren’t nearly as many stars in the sky as there are grains of sand on the ground.”

“Ah, Lady Calico, you may not know this, but the stars in the sky might outnumber the grains of sand on earth.”

“Really, meow?”

“I’m just guessing.”

“You're just guessing!”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe...”

The cat mimicked his posture, lying flat on her back, legs stretched out, arms resting at her sides. Only her tail remained upright, neatly covering her body like a small blanket. The endless stars above reflected in her amber eyes, shimmering like a sea of light.

She stared at them for a long time before suddenly speaking.

“Then... will you take me to see the salt tower one day?”

“...”

The Daoist was silent for a long time before finally replying, “Maybe.” novelbuddy-cσ๓

“Maybe!”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe!!”

“The future is uncertain. Who can say?”

“Then guess!”

“I can’t guess.”

“Then you’re not very smart.”

Lady Calico shook her head and returned to gazing at the stars.

Her tail swayed unconsciously. And unconsciously, she reached out to catch it.

At some point, she drifted off to sleep. Half-dreaming, half-awake, she seemed to have a dream.

In the vast desert, towering structures rose one after another—exquisite, multi-tiered pagodas, each topped with a radiant white jade dome that glowed like a miniature sun.

Then, the dream shifted to the seaside.

The sun was just as bright, but there was endless water.

One only had to climb a tree to pluck a coconut for a refreshing drink—no need to ration water so carefully. A short walk along the shore would yield plenty of fish and shrimp to eat, eliminating any fear of going hungry. More importantly, those fish and shrimp were delicious. The Daoist would eat them too.

It was a world completely unlike this one.

Beside her, the Daoist remained awake, eyes open in silent contemplation. It was rare for the cat to fall asleep while he stayed awake.

As the night deepened, the stars grew even more dazzling.

Lying beneath the vast, endless desert sky, a profound sense of solitude welled up.

The boundless river of stars reflected in his eyes, making his own existence feel small in comparison.

But whether it was the desert or the galaxy above, both had existed for countless ages—reminding him of the fleeting brevity of human life, as if the origins of civilization had only just passed in the blink of an eye.

This, too, was a rare form of cultivation.

“...”

The Daoist took a deep breath.

Who says the desert is inhospitable?

The endless stars have welcomed a lone traveler tonight.

1. ​The term 盐塔 (yán tǎ) refers to a molten salt tower, a central component in molten salt tower concentrated solar power plants. In these facilities, thousands of heliostats (mirrors) focus sunlight onto a receiver atop a tall tower, heating molten salt stored within. This heated molten salt is then used to generate steam, which drives turbines to produce electricity. A notable example is the 100-megawatt molten salt tower CSP plant in Dunhuang, China, which utilizes this technology to achieve efficient and continuous power generation. ☜

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