Unintended Immortality

“Lady Calico.”

“Hmm?”

“The snow must be really cold, right?”

“I have fur under my paws.”

“But it’s still cold, isn’t it?”

“I’m not afraid of the cold.”

“Then, may I hug you, Lady Calico?”

“...?”

The calico cat, mid-step, paused and turned to stare at him. After a moment, she finally spoke, “You may.”

The wild was bitterly cold, and although Lady Calico’s body was covered in fur, her outer coat felt chilly at first touch. Yet, the cat’s natural warmth was undeniable. With a slight squeeze, the heat beneath her fur radiated through, bringing a comforting warmth.

In Hezhou, especially in Gui Commandery, the people had suffered greatly—war and demons, drought and plague, the hardships were endless.

The Daoist was but a traveler passing through; the battles couldn’t harm him, nor did he fear the demons. The drought had ended, and the plague posed no threat to him. However, traversing this land, it was impossible not to be affected by the sorrow lingering in the air.

Holding Lady Calico in his arms was the only way to find a bit of inner peace.

And it wasn’t just for this moment. For the past four or five years, it had always been this way.

They continued their journey north.

This land was vast and flat. The heavy snow painted the entire world in a blanket of white. From afar, it was a boundless, indistinguishable expanse. As the wind and snow swept across, the landscape became even murkier. The silhouettes of the Daoist and the swordsman, along with their red and black horses, seemed insignificant against the wide, white world—like tiny black specks.

As if once you were cast into this vastness, you’d lose your way entirely. The timid would no doubt be filled with fear.

The open-hearted traveler, naturally, felt a sense of vast clarity within. Forty to fifty li would take just over half a day.

Near Hansu County, the weather was bearable. Though not clear, there wasn’t much wind or snow. However, as they drew closer to the Snowy Plains, the storm intensified. The snowflakes seemed to fly horizontally, and an ordinary person walking through it would struggle to take even a single step. ꞦἈ₦ộ𝐛Ę𝙎

A moment's carelessness could have their body blown off balance. The distant sky was dark and heavy, as though a blizzard hung overhead at any moment.

It was hard to discern the time of day, and even harder to tell east from west. Yet, their steps remained firm and resolute.

Even the swordsman’s black horse, having followed the Daoist for almost a year, seemed to have gained some measure of spirit. It did not grow restless in the stormy weather. Instead, it moved forward in silence, much like the jujube-red horse.

How did they know they had reached the Snowy Plains?

It was the sight of temples on the distant horizon.

From afar, in the dim and murky expanse of the land, there seemed to be a temple every so often. Amid the wind and snow, they appeared to glow with a divine light. But upon closer inspection, the light wasn’t really there.

“There are temples.”

The calico cat in the Daoist's arms stretched out a paw—round and plump, wearing a little white “glove”—and pointed in that direction.

“Lady Calico, you have sharp eyes,” Song You remarked, stepping forward.

The temple wasn’t tall, nor was it large. It was about the size of a regular household and was built quite simply. Inside, a haphazard assortment of deities was enshrined.

There were the legitimate gods of the Thunder Division of the Heavenly Palace, officials of the War Division, well-known guardian deities, and even Buddhist Bodhisattvas and guardian divine kings.

The altar was almost entirely covered in clay platforms, densely packed. Each piece of clay was crowded with incense sticks burned down to stubs. It was so tightly packed that saying there was barely any room left would be an understatement—there truly wasn’t a single spot left.

Some of the newer offerings, finding no space to be placed, were either stuck into freshly molded bits of clay or wedged into the crowded remains of burnt bamboo sticks, treating them as makeshift platforms.

Song You gazed at it, feeling an inexplicable sense of awe.

In that moment, it was as if the faith and hopes of the common people had taken tangible form, manifesting on those densely clustered clay platforms and incense sticks. Even an ordinary child or elder could clearly perceive it.

It was as if one could glimpse the people’s spiritual solace within.

Their fear of demons; their trust and hope in the deities; their longing for peace...

All of it was embodied in those tightly packed sticks of incense.

“Huff...”

Song You blew a breath, sending dust scattering from the altar.

It was evident that no one had come to offer incense for a long time—perhaps not since the sixth day of the sixth lunar month last year, or even longer. Yet despite the dust covering the altar, the statues of the deities were spotlessly clean.

The statues themselves were quite noteworthy.

It wasn’t unusual to see a mixture of Buddhist and Daoist deities. Many village temples were like this. Aside from the potential disputes over incense offerings, there were no known complaints. However, among all the statues here, there was neither the Celestial Emperor nor the Buddha—only proper gods tasked with vanquishing demons and subduing evil spirits.

Each statue was made using the “Five-Organ Method.”

What is the “Five-Organ Method“?

It was a technique spread by a Daoist who once descended from Qingcheng Mountain. When crafting the statues, even though they used clay and straw, they also molded a complete set of internal organs for the clay figure. As a result, the statues remained completely free of dust.

Over time, some of the more elaborate temples and monasteries even started sculpting the full internal organs, meridians, and bones for the statues. However, that level of detail was more for show, serving no additional purpose.

It was naturally beneficial for statues to be untouched by dust.

It was unclear whether this temple had been built by local officials, the court, or the villagers themselves. In any case, there must have been a master guiding them.

Song You paused in front of an old acquaintance’s statue.

“...”

Glancing back at his bag, Song You frowned.

“What are you looking for, sir?”

“Nothing.”

He had forgotten to bring incense again.

“Ah...”

But he couldn’t blame himself for it.

He only learned from a minor official after leaving the city that there was a temple at the edge of the Snowy Plains. Besides, in a place like Hansu now, where could he possibly buy incense?

With a sigh, Song You composed himself, his expression turning serious. He addressed the temple solemnly, “I request the presence of the Duke of Thunder Zhou!”

The saying went, “Know yourself and know your enemy, and you can fight a hundred battles without defeat.”

The demons of the Snowy Plains were likely quite unusual. If he were to ask anyone for information, the best choice would naturally be the divine official who had long battled against them.

Without a sound, the statue of the Thunder God atop the altar began to glow with a shimmering light.

The originally painted, rigid colors gradually turned lifelike. The harsh contours softened, and the eyes of the statue flashed with a sudden gleam, like lightning in the night. It was as if the statue had come alive in an instant, its eyes staring straight down with an imposing, awe-inspiring presence.

Over the past year in Hezhou, Song You had encountered the Duke of Thunder Zhou on several nights. They had exchanged words a few times, and even when they hadn’t spoken directly, there had been other interactions. He was much more familiar now than he had been before.

“Thunder God, it’s been a while,” the Daoist’s voice was gentle, yet it cut through the cold wind.

“He Plains?” Thunder God’s voice was like the rumbling of a storm, rolling thunder that shook the ears.

When a dutiful deity was summoned down to the mortal realm, they naturally knew which temple and which statue had called them.

“Indeed!” the Daoist responded without hesitation.

“…” Duke of Thunder Zhou sat upright on the altar, his gaze sweeping across the scene below. He noticed the cat crouched by the Daoist’s feet, meeting his eyes without fear. There was also a swordsman and two horses standing outside. Unperturbed, he refocused his gaze on Song You, squinting slightly as he quickly understood.

“You summoned me to ask about the demons of the Snowy Plains?”

“Indeed.”

“What is it you wish to know? Are you questioning why we, the legitimate gods of the Thunder Division, have failed to vanquish this demon? Or is it something else?”

Though he spoke these words, his tone was much gentler compared to when they first met by the shores of Mirror Island Lake years ago.

“I was passing through and heard that a great demons had entrenched itself here, turning vast fertile lands into a demon kingdom, spreading plague, and wreaking havoc upon the living. I also heard that the Heavenly Palace once launched a major campaign against this demon several years ago but failed. I’ve come specifically to ask what special powers this demon of the Snowy Plains possesses.”

“…”

While his words might have sounded accusatory, Duke of Thunder Zhou could sense his true intention.

“You intend to exorcize the demon?”

“Indeed.”

Thunder God lowered his head while the Daoist looked up.

The two locked eyes, their gazes meeting across the distance.

“This demon is the inherent god of He Plains, not some ordinary spirit of plant, beast, or bird,” Duke of Thunder Zhou said, lowering his gaze to meet his. “Inherent gods are the hardest to eradicate, and this fiend has acquired an extraordinary life-preserving power. Do you have a plan?”

“Let’s hear it first.”

“Beneath He Plains lies a vast reservoir of spiritual water, brimming with boundless spiritual resonance. Where this spiritual essence emerges on the surface, it’s called the Lingze.

“The county of Lingze was named after it. This spiritual water flows beneath all of He Plains, and its exposed marshes spread across the land.

“This demon was originally He Plains’ inherent god, existing in a primordial state beyond good or evil. It rarely showed itself and caused little disturbance. But when the great war broke out in the northern regions, at least two hundred thousand soldiers perished here over time. The people of He Plains were massacred, leaving the marshes stained red with blood. The air was thick with resentment, and vengeful spirits roamed everywhere, making it a haven for cultivation.

“The demon, tasting this abundance, used the blood and essence of these hundreds of thousands and the resentment of the spirits to elevate its powers in one great leap. It became addicted, spiraling out of control, and soon transformed into a terrestrial nefarious god, entrenched in this place, breeding demons, feeding on blood, and now seeking to expand outward.”

Thunder God finished his explanation in one breath, continuing to stare intently at him. “Though this demon is formidable, the Heavenly Palace is not entirely helpless. However, it is the embodiment of the spiritual resonance of He Plains’ underground marshes—it is the Lingze itself.

“Somehow, it either learned or comprehended an incredible divine power. Unless the entire underground spiritual water of He Plains is drained, or this entire region is turned into a barren wasteland, it’s impossible to destroy it.”

Hearing this, Song You couldn’t help but praise, “That is quite an impressive divine power.”

Draining the groundwater across a hundred li? That was easier said than done. To completely destroy the vitality of all He Plains and turn it into a barren wasteland—not to mention the immense cost—how could it possibly be done so easily?

If the Mountain God of the vast plains of Pingzhou had possessed such a divine power back then, how could they have feared the Heavenly Palace’s purge?

Thunder God continued, “You made one mistake.”@@novelbin@@

“Please enlighten me, Thunder God.”

“The Heavenly Palace’s legitimate gods have attempted more than just a single campaign several years ago. There have been two joint efforts by the Thunder Division and the War Division alone, and I, as a legitimate god of the Thunder Division, have fought against it once a year.

“Yet, for the reasons mentioned earlier, although we can defeat it temporarily, we currently lack the means to completely eradicate it,” Duke of Thunder Zhou explained, still seated on the altar. His voice rumbled like thunder.

“Thus, we could only build temples at the border of He Plains, placing divine statues there to guard the area. This was to prevent the demon from further expanding its territory and endangering the populace, while also serving as a deterrent against the demon’s soldiers venturing out to harm the common folk.

“In addition, my Thunder Division conducts an annual campaign to purge the demon troops and generals within He Plains, weakening its strength bit by bit. Once the demon kings further north are all dealt with, we’ll be able to spare more forces to gradually eliminate it.”

“I see,” Song You nodded thoughtfully.

It had become a drawn-out war of attrition.