Unintended Immortality

The vast Mount Huangsha appeared almost barren from a distance, with sparse, withered trees scattered across its surface. Yet, the chaotic array of dark wooden huts constructed on the mountain gave it a strange, imposing grandeur.

Song You observed as he walked.

There didn’t seem to be many people left in the sect now. As they passed by, many of the houses were empty—some locked, others casually secured with wooden latches. Judging by the latches, some of these homes hadn’t been opened in a long time; the rain-swollen wood had expanded, leaving noticeable marks where the latches strained against them.

They continued their ascent.

Every so often, Song You saw people diligently practicing martial arts. Some were spinning their spears with ferocious energy, others were grinding away at strength training or using different methods to harden their bodies. Some groups sparred with one another.

Occasionally, a senior sect member could be seen instructing disciples, and in some cases, mischievous elders would egg the younger ones into fighting.

Both Song You and Lady Calico were intrigued.

Whenever the cat passed by these scenes, she would often stop, staring unblinkingly at the people as they trained. Only when she realized that Song You had walked too far ahead or when he called out to her did she reluctantly trot forward, glancing back every few steps.

Being a cat, sometimes she would get so absorbed that, upon snapping out of it, she would panic when she noticed Song You was no longer in sight. She could then only look around in a panic.

“What shall I call you?” Song You asked the man accompanying him.

“My surname is Liu as well. I’m the third child in my family, so everyone calls me Liu San[1].”

“I am Song You. A pleasure to meet you,” the Daoist replied, speaking as he walked. “I noticed many empty houses along the way. Might I ask why that is?”

“They’ve gone north.”

“At its peak, there must have been thousands of people here?”

“How could I tell you such a thing?” Liu San replied.

“My apologies for asking,” Song You said.

The Daoist smiled and didn’t mind, continuing to glance around as they walked.

When they reached halfway up the mountain, they came across a group of young people sitting casually on an open patch of ground. An elderly man with a severed arm brought over a bamboo chair and began explaining the things to watch out for on the battlefield.

He occasionally mentioned the battle achievements of several warriors who had come from the Changqiang Sect and fought against the northern frontier invaders, interspersed with praises for General Chen, the greatest general of Great Yan.

Song You couldn’t help but stop and listen for a while.

In the south, it was often said that the Changqiang Sect had close ties with the northern garrison, particularly with General Chen. The sect was reputed to be both a training ground for military combatants and a reserve for General Chen’s personal guards. Now, seeing this firsthand, it seemed the rumors were indeed true.

At that moment, Lady Calico came running from behind. She had been chasing after Song You but had only just managed to tear herself away from watching martial artists spar earlier.

Now, as she reached him, she was drawn by the Daoist’s gaze and turned her head to see what he was observing. Caught up in her curiosity, she accidentally ran past him and bumped headfirst into his leg.

Song You felt the impact and looked down at her. Meanwhile, Lady Calico raised her head to meet his gaze.

The Daoist chuckled softly and resumed walking.

Following the martial artist named Liu San, they were stopped and questioned a few more times along the way, mostly by curious onlookers. Finally, they reached the back of the mountain.

Here, there were a few larger buildings.

“I’ll go inform them,” Liu San said.

“Alright,” Song You replied.

The Daoist actually carried a handwritten letter from General Chen and another from the advisor, which were sufficient to grant him unimpeded passage across the entire northern region, making him a welcome guest wherever he went.

However, he was only here to deliver some letters. He didn’t need to ask for directions, rest, or resupply. Thus, he refrained from presenting the letters and simply stood quietly outside with the cat and the horse, waiting.

Though the mountain’s buildings appeared disorganized, the internal hierarchy was strict. Liu San followed the customs of the northern jianghu and the rules of the Changqiang Sect, reporting his name and hall affiliation before. After several layers of communication, they were finally granted an audience with Lord Liu.

Liu Huzi[2] was true to his name, sporting a long goatee. However, his legs were injured, and he walked with a noticeable limp. Judging by his age, Liu Huzi was likely in his sixties or seventies.

When he heard that letters sent from Liaoxin Pass had been picked up by the Daoist, Liu Huzi immediately came out to meet him.

The Daoist handed him the bamboo tubes.

Just like Chen Han back in Lingbo County, Liu Huzi froze for a moment upon seeing the tubes. However, being a martial artist, he didn’t break into loud sobs like Chen Han when he received and opened the letter. Instead, aged and weathered, his hands couldn't help but tremble slightly. He sighed and shook his head shortly after.

“Is this letter addressed to you?”

“Yes, it’s from my disciple stationed at Liaoxin Pass. I must thank you, sir!” Liu Huzi turned to Song You, setting aside his grief.

“When I heard that Liaoxin Pass had fallen and none of the garrison survived, I knew my disciple was likely dead. I only regretted the fact that I never received even a single letter from him. I didn’t realize it wasn’t that he hadn’t written—it was that the letters never reached me… Fortunately, you found them, sir. Perhaps this is fate.”

“I found quite a few such letters,” Song You said. “Some are addressed to members of your sect. I’ll hand them all over to you.”

As he spoke, Song You turned and retrieved all the bamboo tubes from the horse’s back, passing them to Liu Huzi.

Liu Huzi received them with both hands, then handed them to his disciples.

At first, receiving just a few was already enough to surprise him. But as more and more were handed over—eventually over twenty tubes—even someone of his age couldn’t help but be stunned.

When he finally processed what was happening, Liu Huzi hurriedly gave Song You a deep bow.

“There’s no need for such formality. I was passing by your sect anyway,” Song You said. “Now that the letters have been delivered, I won’t stay any longer. I will take my leave.”

“How could that be?” Liu Huzi protested.

Liu Huzi immediately widened his eyes and stared at him. “The continuous warfare lasted ages, making letters incredibly rare. Each one is as precious as ten thousand taels of gold.

“You’ve gone to great lengths to deliver so many letters back to us. How gracious of you. If you were to just leave without staying, other jianghu sects would think the Changqiang Sect lacks decorum and etiquette, especially those southern sects. No matter what, you must stay!

“Most of the ones in charge of the sect have gone north. Only us old fellows, who can barely lift a spear, are left behind. On behalf of the Sect Master, the other Hall Masters, and the elders, I will make the decision to properly host you for a few days!”

“…” Song You thought for a moment before replying, “I merely delivered the letters here as it was along the way. But since you insist, we’ll stay and join you for lunch, then.”

***

The swallow perched on a tree branch halfway up the mountain.

The group of young people was still sitting cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by reddish-yellow sand and gravel. Each of them held a simple long spear, their eyes fixed on the elder seated on the bamboo chair ahead.

The elder had finished lecturing on battle formations, military duels, and the northern victories that had brought the war to an end. He recounted in detail the comrades from their sect who had earned military merits and how many enemies they had slain.

The young listeners were gripped by it all, regretting that their martial skills had been too lacking at the time to follow their senior brothers and masters in joining General Chen.

If they had gone, wouldn’t it have been them standing at the front lines, challenging the enemy’s generals?

Even if they had died, their names might still have been immortalized by storytellers. And if they had won, their names could have been spoken in every teahouse from north to south. Their stories might even be told for a thousand years.

But they were still young, and after the elder’s lecture, their thoughts drifted from fiery dreams of glory to an even greater curiosity—the divine immortal mentioned in the stories.

One young man immediately asked, “Who is that divine immortal who descended to the mortal realm? How could they be so powerful?”

The elder raised an eyebrow. “Who knows?”

“And how did the divine immortal even fight?”

“The hell do I know? I wasn’t there to see it! I only heard about it from the letters your senior uncles sent back!” the elder said. “If you lot had any backbone, maybe you’d have been on the city walls to witness it yourselves. But since you’re useless, you’re stuck waiting for those who aren’t to come back and tell you about it.”

Scratching his armpit, the elder mused, “It was probably something like thunderbolts, or maybe summoning heavenly soldiers to descend…”

“If the divine immortal was so powerful, why didn’t he just drive all the northern frontier barbarians away?”

“He’s a divine immortal—how could he help us fight wars?”

“But they can exterminate demons, so why not?”

“You think only Great Yan has divine immortals? The northern frontier isn’t any smaller than Great Yan—do you think they don’t have divine immortals too?” The elder glared at the group of young men.

“If you’d been born in the south and spent more time in teahouses listening to stories, you’d know that it’s practically a rule for deities, immortals and demons not to meddle in mortal affairs. Otherwise, how could we enjoy the peace we have now? The monsters, ghosts and demons from the north broke the rules this time, which is why the divine immortal from our side stepped in to exterminate them.

“You've heard stories of deities, immortals and demons aiding mortals in wars—helping one side or the other. It's not unheard of, and you’re familiar with the tales. But did you ever hear how the common people were faring during those years?”

“…”

The group stared up at him silently.

“Haha, you didn’t, huh?” The elder chuckled with satisfaction, lifting his head proudly. In his old age, highlights like this were rare for him.

“When deities and immortals fight, mortals are like the grass on the roadside. Without deities, immortals and demons causing chaos, at least we can struggle to survive during wars. But if chaos breaks out, like in the times those storytellers speak of, do you think your head will still stay intact on your shoulders?”

The group stared at him, wide-eyed, momentarily stunned.

“What did the divine immortal look like?”

“How would I know? I just heard in the letters that it looked like a Daoist—leading a horse and carrying a cat.”

“Oh…”

The group’s eyes grew even wider, their faces filled with awe and fascination.

“Oh! What’s that bird doing in the tree?”

“Don’t move! I’ll shoot it down!”

“I don’t think you should. It looks like a swallow.”

“What swallow would be around this time of year?”

“Probably just looks like a swallow.”

“I’ll give you one of its legs if we catch it.”

“Shh…”

The swallow perched on the tree branch, warily eyeing the group below.

At that moment, it caught a glimpse out of the corner of its eye—Song You and Lady Calico had finished their meal and were already leading the horse down the mountain. Seeing this, the swallow spread its wings and leaped off the branch, giving it a quick push with its legs as it launched into the air.

Flap, flap, flap...

“Hey! It got away!”

“That’s your fault!”

“No, it’s your fault!”

“It’s because you talk too much!”

“Your voice was too loud!”

“If Senior Brother Luo were here, this wouldn’t have happened. His skill with hidden weapons is amazing…”

The group broke into a playful squabble, but none of them seemed too bothered.

After all, how much meat could a bird have? It wasn’t a big loss. To them, it was just a plaything that flew away.

Still, the way that bird flew—it really did look like a swallow.

Their gazes followed the bird as it soared over the vast, wooden hut-covered expanse of Mount Huangsha. Below, they spotted a young Daoist walking leisurely down the mountain. Behind him followed a jujube-red horse, a calico cat, and the limping Third Hall Master, who leaned on a wooden staff as he saw them off. The Hall Master was carrying a large bamboo tube, its contents unknown.

The group of young men froze, staring in disbelief.

1. San means three in Chinese. ☜

2. Huzi means beard in Chinese. ☜