Unintended Immortality

“That’s enough…”

“Really?”

The little girl turned her head to look and indeed saw that they had caught quite a lot of fish.

But fish, being such a good thing—edible for both cats and humans, and even sellable—meant the more, the better.

She glanced at the Daoist, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Raising her crouched body slightly, she craned her neck to follow the Daoist’s line of sight. In the distance, she saw another person—a young adolescent who looked somewhat familiar.

That person was also fishing in a way similar to theirs, though not from the middle of the river. Instead, they were near the riverbank, where they had cut a hole in the ice—not with their hands but with a sharpened wooden stick. The youth was focused intently, staring down at the hole in the ice, occasionally thrusting the stick downward with force.

Naturally, they weren’t nearly as skilled as Lady Calico.

Since arriving on the grasslands, Lady Calico had gradually honed her exceptional fishing skills, effortlessly pulling fish from the water with her bare hands—one after another, with ease.

At that moment, the youth seemed to notice them as well. Turning to look, they stared at the group from a distance, apparently unable to see clearly. They leaned forward, craning their neck as though trying to confirm something.

Finally, recognition dawned, and a voice called out, “Sir? Sir! Don’t stay in the middle of the river! The ice is thin—you might fall in!”

The little girl scratched her head, withdrew her gaze, and returned her attention to the fish in the ice hole, resuming her careful fishing.

Not long after, the youth began walking toward them.

Lady Calico finally withdrew her gaze, retracted her hands, and stepped back. She stood beside the Daoist as she faced the approaching youth.

“What brings you here, sir?” the youth asked.

“Just taking the chance before the ice melts completely to catch a few fish,” the Daoist replied with a smile. “It’s a good way to satisfy cravings and earn some travel funds. And you, young sir? Are you here for the same reason?”

“Yes…”

The youth couldn’t help but glance behind the Daoist.

The boy in black-and-white clothing standing nearby was strikingly handsome, far beyond the weathered, frostbitten youth himself. His clothes, made of some unknown fabric, shimmered subtly with a blue undertone beneath the black. It reflected light in a way that the youth’s coarse, simple attire could never match.

Though both were young, the stark contrast made him feel self-conscious. Fortunately, people of the jianghu generally valued skill and temperament over appearance, so he wasn’t overly bothered.

What did trouble him was the sight of the ice beside the other boy, where at least a dozen large fish were strung together with grass rope and neatly laid out. Compared to that, his own soaked wooden stick seemed even more pathetic, further intensifying his embarrassment.

“The ice is fragile now—it’s easy to fall in. Haven’t you noticed no one dares walk on the river anymore?” the youth warned. “You’d better head back to the riverbank quickly.”

“Alright,” the Daoist replied, glancing down at Lady Calico. Meeting her reluctant gaze, he turned and began walking toward the shore.

Lady Calico, however, hesitated, looking back longingly with every step.

“Did you not catch anything, young sir?” the Daoist asked. “If you’d like, we’ve caught plenty and can spare two fish—it’s no trouble at all.”

“No need. I can catch my own,” the youth replied, a hint of awkwardness in his tone. Just a few days ago, he’d thought about bringing a couple of extra fish to the inn for the Daoist as a gesture of thanks for the tea he’d once offered. But now, seeing how much the Daoist had caught, it was clear the man had no need for his help. “I’m just not as skilled as you are, so it takes me a bit longer, that’s all.”

“Fair enough.”

“Sir, why haven’t you left yet?”

“I’ll leave when the snow melts—it shouldn’t be more than a few days now.”

“A few days…” the youth murmured.

“I haven’t seen you at the teahouse lately,” the Daoist remarked.

“I’ve been busy working recently, so I haven’t had much time to go. But if I get some free time or if it rains, I’ll definitely be there.” As he spoke, the youth couldn’t resist asking, “What’s the storyteller been talking about lately?”

“They’re talking about the heroes of the world.”

“Heroes of the world?”

“Mostly about General Chen from the north, Shu Yifan from Guangzhou, and other renowned martial artists from the jianghu,” Song You said, thinking the youth might find this interesting.

“Shu Yifan…” The youth murmured the name, his gaze flickering for a brief moment.

Song You, observing him closely during their conversation, immediately noticed the subtle shift in his expression. He furrowed his brows slightly, puzzled.

The youth’s reaction didn’t seem like admiration.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” The youth quickly composed himself, his face returning to normal as he replied, “I’ve heard that Shu Yifan attained enlightenment through martial arts early last year. In terms of skill, he can now be considered a grandmaster.”

“He’s already achieved enlightenment?”

“That’s what I’ve heard from others in the jianghu. People in Guangzhou who’ve encountered him say he can unleash sword qi with a flick of his fingers—bright as frost and snow. He can use tree branches or wild grass as swords to slice through metal and cut through anything.

“When he draws his sword, the sound of thunder rolls, and when he strikes, it’s like a storm descending. He’s unstoppable. They say even while sitting still, ordinary weapons can’t harm him; arrows shot at him are stopped by the air itself.”

The youth spoke in a low voice. After finishing, he glanced at Song You, pretending to speak casually as he sighed, “I wonder how we martial artists could ever reach such a level.”

“Is that so…” The Daoist nodded thoughtfully.

The youth’s thoughts were plainly written across his face.

While he was better at hiding his emotions than others his age, it was still far too obvious to escape the Daoist’s notice.

Still, the Daoist couldn’t immediately make sense of it.

The youth, now standing by the river, turned to ask, “Since you’ve traveled the world and come from the south, you must have heard a lot about Shu Yifan, haven’t you?”

“Of course.”

The Daoist nodded at him.

The little girl, meanwhile, raised her head and stared seriously at the youth, as if bracing herself for him to say something negative about Shu Yifan.

“What kind of person do you think this unparalleled swordsman is?” the youth asked.

“Sir Shu…” Song You didn’t dwell too much on the youth’s expression.

Hearing the question, he wore a thoughtful look before answering honestly, “Shu Yifan is a man of extraordinary martial skill, upright and resolute, and exudes a strong sense of chivalry. From what I’ve heard, he was already quite famous in the jianghu even before last year. His reputation isn’t solely due to his martial prowess, so I’d say he’s a remarkable hero.”

“A hero…”

The youth mulled over the word.

It aligned with what he had heard about Shu Yifan from both the jianghu and the storytellers. He didn’t object, but after a while, he shook his head and said, “Shu Yifan’s so-called heroic reputation probably stems mostly from his famous duel in Zhaozhou, where he sought revenge against Lin Dehai, the leader of the Hanjiang Sect—the largest jianghu sect in Zhaozhou.

“He killed Lin Dehai but spared his entire family. That’s where the legend comes from, isn’t it?”

Though his tone carried hints of sarcasm or mockery, it was tinged more with a sense of melancholy.

“…” Song You narrowed his eyes slightly, studying the youth.

This was a clue.

Hearing this story and noticing the expression on the youth’s face, Song You began connecting the dots.

In that instant, everything became clear.

A youth wandering the jianghu, with a bearing different from that of ordinary village children. He was precocious and determined to train tirelessly in martial arts, yet upon hearing of the greatest and most renowned figure in the jianghu, felt something more than admiration or aspiration.

So that was how it was…

Song You suddenly found it all so fascinating.

When he first arrived in Zhaozhou and randomly chose a remote little town, how could he have imagined that the youth he met by chance would turn out to be Lin Dehai’s son?

What a remarkable twist of fate.

Truly wondrous.

Shu Yifan hadn’t intended to completely eliminate Lin Dehai’s family back then, and even if the youth had revealed his real name, Shu Yifan likely wouldn’t have caused him any trouble. Still, it was clear that the youth had chosen to conceal his identity and live in obscurity in this remote town for his own reasons.

Song You decided not to expose him and instead nodded thoughtfully, saying, “Still, I think even without the story of the revenge battle in Zhaozhou or the tale of him sparing Lin Dehai’s family, Shu Yifan’s character alone makes him worthy of being called a great hero.”

“Really?”

“That’s just my personal view,” Song You replied with a smile before pausing briefly. “But regardless, Shu Yifan’s swordsmanship is undoubtedly unparalleled. If the rumors of his enlightenment are true, then even as he ages, he won’t experience the same decline in vitality as ordinary martial artists.

“And even if his vitality does wane, it would barely affect his strength. In fact, with time, his understanding of swordsmanship might deepen further, making him even more extraordinary. If Lin Dehai’s descendants ever sought to take revenge, it would likely be a very difficult task.”

“...!” The youth’s expression immediately tensed, and he glanced cautiously at the Daoist.

There was a flicker of wariness in his eyes.

But the Daoist’s expression remained calm and composed, warm and peaceful.

“…”

The youth wasn’t sure if the Daoist had seen through him. After a brief silence, he quickly organized his thoughts and cupped his hands in thanks, “The affairs of the jianghu are far removed from us; we just listen to such stories for fun. That said, I must thank you for your earlier advice.

“Before, after practicing martial arts, I often felt soreness in my back and waist that wouldn’t completely go away even after a night’s sleep. But ever since I started following your suggestion of fishing here daily and cooking the fish to eat, I have recovered much faster after training.”

“You’re welcome,” Song You replied with a smile.

But inwardly, he found the situation both fascinating and amusing.

Back in Xuzhou, at the mortuary, Song You had unwittingly lent a small hand to Shu Yifan. Yet now, once again by sheer coincidence, he found himself loosely entangled with Lin Dehai’s son. He wondered if the casual piece of advice he had just given would be of any use to the youth. Regardless, it was simply an act of goodwill, repaying kindness with kindness, as it should be. There was no need to dwell on it.

He only felt that it was all increasingly wondrous.

Reflecting on it further, the feeling grew even harder to put into words.

The two of them stood by the riverbank, exchanging a few more words, before the youth cupped his hands in farewell. “I should properly thank you for that bowl of tea you once shared with me, sir. Even if not, I ought to bid you farewell when you leave.

“But now, between training and finding a way to make a living, I’m not sure I’ll have the chance to see you before you depart. So here and now, I wish you a safe journey and smooth travels.”

“I’ve received your kind sentiments, and I thank you,” Song You replied politely, returning the gesture. “We’ll take our leave now. You take care as well.”

“Travel safely.”

With that, Song You turned and began to leave.

The little girl hurriedly picked up the fish and followed.

The swallow youth, carrying both hands full of fish, trailed behind the Daoist. When the Daoist turned to offer help, neither the cat nor the swallow accepted, each giving their own reasons for refusing.

The youth on the riverbank watched them until they disappeared from view. Only after a long while did he pull his gaze away.

For some reason, he found himself looking again at the hole in the ice. Perhaps, he was curious about whether there were more fish in the middle of the river. Tempted, he took a step forward to test it. But with just one step, his foot broke through the ice, soaking his shoe and pant leg instantly.

It was only then that he realized the ice on the river had unknowingly thinned to just one or two fingers’ thickness—far too fragile to support anyone’s weight.