Unintended Immortality-Chapter 573: I Have a Good Idea

Morning in Jade City was just like any other day. The ones who rose early were mostly the locals, with their deep-set features, thick beards, wearing the region’s loose robes and head wraps. The aroma of baked buns and flatbread filled the air, mingling with the rhythmic clang of hammer against iron echoing from some unknown alley, all coming together to form the vibrant bustle of this foreign city.

The Daoist, however, was already packed and ready to leave the city.

He was the same old Daoist in his worn robes, leaning on a bamboo staff, leading a jujube-red horse laden with baggage. Behind him, at the entrance of a quiet alley, the little girl transformed back into a cat, turning her head this way and that as they walked.

Before long, they passed through the city gates.

Some camel caravans were heading out of the city alongside the Daoist, while others approached from afar, having clearly been on the road since much earlier. The camels on both sides stretched in long lines, and the world was filled with the rhythmic jingle of bells and the creaking of gear.

This was, perhaps, the echo of the Silk Road.

The Daoist paused and looked back.

Jade City’s walls were a dusty yellow, and so were the buildings atop them—weathered by wind and sand, faded and yellowed. From the outside, you’d never guess that this city had gathered centuries of Silk Road prosperity.

It had only been a few hundred years so far. Most likely less than a thousand. Who could say how many more years it would last?

And who knew if he would ever see this city again? Whether it would still look the same, years from now?

“...”

Song You shook his head and withdrew his gaze, looking forward again.

Just outside the city was a tall mountain, rising like a wall. There was a gap in the mountain wall, and the path beneath their feet wound its way toward that opening, eventually crossing over the mountain. The weather was so clear that one could see the summit, though the distance compressed in his sight made it seem deceptively close—so much so that the path appeared incredibly steep, as though it led straight into the heavens.

The camel caravans moved along the road, shrinking the farther they went.

“Let’s go,” said the Daoist, lifting his bamboo staff. “Lady Calico, you still have a few days left to catch mice around here. A few hundred li down the road, who knows if there’ll be any left?”

“They’re rabbits.”

“Alright, alright.”

“You can eat them too.”

“I don’t really want to eat the rabbits around here.”

“There’s fruit too!”

“Fruit’s fine,” the Daoist said as he walked. “There’s fruit on the mountains here, and fruit on the mountains ahead. It’s autumn now, after all.”

“That’s right...”

The cat trotted along in short steps, turning her head to stare up at him.

Yan An fluttered its wings and soared overhead, slicing through the sky.

Crossing over the mountain ahead, they were met with more stretches of green hills. Trees clustered like patches of moss along the slopes, cattle and sheep dotted the mountainsides like tiny black specks, and the camel caravans ahead continued to lead the Daoist's way forward.

The grasslands were full of small holes—home to rabbits and mice.

Lady Calico’s determination didn’t waver. Every time the Daoist stopped to rest, if they were near the grasslands, she would immediately go off to catch mice.

If there were wild fruit trees nearby, the swallow would inform her, and no matter if they were on a mountaintop, she would sling her pouch over her shoulder and huff and puff her way over to pick enough fruit to feed the Daoist for at least a day or two. If there was a stream nearby, she’d go fishing. If there was a forest, she’d go hunting.

Whenever they settled on a campsite at dusk, she would team up with the swallow to chop firewood—specifically picking resin-rich larches. She’d swing the beheading sword, and with a gentle swipe, the tree would fall cleanly.

At the junction of dusk and nightfall, the land of the Western Regions turned dark, and the setting sun painted the sky blood-red. Caravans of camels traveled along the horizon, their silhouettes outlined in the twilight. Behind them was one more figure—a Daoist, a jujube-red horse, and the silhouette of a cat frozen mid-step, paw raised, turning her head to gaze off into the distance.

The mornings were cool and crisp, the green hills even more serene and graceful. Thousands of horses galloped across the mountain slopes like a mighty flood. The Daoist and his companions walked along the ridge of the green hills.

Traveling through such scenery, when the heart is open, even the land and sky seem to echo with a grand and heroic song.

The cat made the entire journey feel gentler.

And so, they walked for about ten days.

Ten days later, Song You, leading his jujube-red horse, gradually climbed up to a mountain pass in the Mount Tian range.

This was the route the locals used to cross the Mount Tian mountains.

By now, some places at the foot of the mountain had already begun to show yellowing leaves. Snow had begun to fall atop the mountain peaks—whether it was perennial or not, the layer was thick. Lady Calico, finding it too cold, had curled up inside her pouch, which hung from the horse's back, swaying with every step.

It wasn’t until they reached the highest point of the pass that Song You finally paused.

He gazed into the distance—and finally saw what was called the “Mount Tian beyond Mount Tian.”

He was now standing atop the Mount Tian range itself. Snow-covered peaks stretched endlessly to either side, forming a wall that split the vast Western Regions in two. Today, the sky was mostly clear. Through breaks in the thin clouds, he could see that the land below was tinged a faint yellow—endless rolling grasslands—and at the far edge of those plains, there stood a range of snow mountains even taller than Mount Tian.

Those mountains pierced the clouds, standing tall atop the green and yellow grasslands. The lower halves of the peaks were made of dark, nearly black rock, while the upper halves were pure white with snow. Even from a great distance, they loomed massive in his view.

Sensing that the horse had stopped moving, the pouch began to wriggle. Inside, the cat shifted and squirmed, her movements clearly pressing out her little paw-shaped prints against the grey-white fabric. No one knew what kind of position she’d been sleeping in to cause so much commotion.

After a few moments, her head popped out, eyes drowsy from sleep. She immediately turned her head left and right, scanning her surroundings.

“Are we there yet? It’s so cold!”

“No,” the Daoist replied, glancing at her calmly.

“Then why’d we stop?”

“Stopped to admire the view.”

“Mm...”

“That mountain is already right ahead of us.”

“How long were you asleep?”

“About half a day.”

“That long, huh...”

The cat started scrabbling around inside the pouch again. She looked down at the snow on the ground, then gave a little bounce, struggling to jump out of the pouch—only to go plop, landing straight into the snow.

“Let me take a look too...”

She mumbled as she got up, tilted her head back to gaze toward the distant mountain, then began trudging through the snow. But her steps were wobbly and unsteady, and she nearly fell several times.

“Lady Calico, be careful. The snow’s soft.”

“It’s not because the snow is soft—it’s because my legs have sand in them,” the calico cat said with a serious expression, though she clearly didn’t mind. “When there’s sand in your legs, you can’t walk steadily.”

“Where would you find sand on this mountain?”

“It’s a bunch of tiny little specks, inside my legs. Sometimes when you wake up, they’re there, and when you walk, they wobble around inside.”

“Oh...” Song You withdrew his gaze from her, his tone mild. “Your legs are numb.”

“Do humans get that too?”

“Yes.”

“Do you get it?”

“Rarely.”

“Why?”

“Because I sleep more calmly.”

“Mm...”

The cat wobbled her head and continued her stiff march forward. She finally made it to the Daoist’s feet and stopped there, raising her head to gaze intently at the distant mountain.

“That’s the one?”

“Yup.”

“It’s so tall and big.”

“It is.”

The Daoist could already sense its spiritual energy.

A wave of cold air blew toward them.

And sure enough, as expected, the lands stretching out hundreds or even thousands of li before that mountain were likely colder than other regions at similar latitudes and elevations.

“The ground is so cold!”

“Snowy ground is naturally cold,” Song You said to her. “Lady Calico, you’re not wearing shoes—better go back into the pouch.”

“I want to stop and enjoy the scenery too.” The little cat shook her head stubbornly. Determined to copy him, she ignored the chill of the ice and snow. She glanced around, spotted a protruding rock that wasn’t covered in snow, and with stiff steps made her way over. After a bit of struggling, she managed to climb on top. “This is fine.”

“You’re clever.”

“If only we were like the swallow and had wings. Then we wouldn’t have to work so hard to climb these mountains. One flap and we could fly over—our feet wouldn’t even get cold.”

“Are your legs still numb?”

“There are still a lot of little specks, but not as many,” the cat replied after carefully feeling it out. Though it was uncomfortable, she didn’t really mind. “They’ll all run away in a bit anyway.”

“I have an idea.”

“Meow? What idea?”

The cat instantly looked up at him, eyes lighting up, eager to learn something new from him.

“Which leg has the sand in it?”

“The back one. The right one.”

“When there’s sand on your body, you shake it off. When there’s sand in your leg, you have to stomp it out,” Song You explained, lifting his right foot to demonstrate. “Like this—lift it high, clear your mind of all distractions and worries, take a deep breath, and when they least expect it—stomp down hard.”

As he spoke, he brought his foot down into the snow.

Thud—a footprint appeared in the snow.

“That’ll scare all the little specks away,” Song You added, then paused. “Of course, snow is too soft, it won’t work well. But the stone you’re standing on is perfect.”

“Like this, meow?” The cat lifted her right back leg.

“Clear your mind.”

“Clear my mind...” She stared at him solemnly.

“Deep breath.”

“Deep breath...” Her little belly rose and fell.

“Stomp!”

Tap...

The calico cat’s eyes immediately widened, her pupils dilating. For a split second, it felt like her entire leg was filled with wildly shaking little specks. The sensation was so intense, it felt like the specks were about to be flung right out—or that they might drill dozens of little holes right through her leg.

“Let’s go.”

The Daoist’s expression remained calm as he took a step forward.

Clink clink clink...

The jujube-red horse turned its head to glance at her, then trotted after him.

The calico cat stayed where she was. After the dazed look faded from her face, she stared at the Daoist and the horse’s backs, falling silent. But in that silence, her gaze grew thoughtful, as if she'd really learned something just now.

Then she hurried after them, hobbling along.

Three days later...

The group had gone from one snowy mountain to another. Before, they had looked toward this place from the Mount Tian mountain pass; now, standing at the foot of this peak and looking back at Mount Tian, they saw the enormous gap between the two ranges.

Only now did they realize just how much distance they'd covered in those three days. Though they had already crossed countless mountains and rivers, traveled tens of thousands of li, there was still a faint sense of achievement in their hearts.

This mountain was called Karzaira by the locals—most likely meaning something like “God of Ice and Snow.”

Song You could still see its true form from a distance, but once they got close, the peak had completely vanished from view. All he could feel was the bone-deep chill of the mountain, the dense spiritual energy, and a mysterious spiritual resonance.