Unintended Immortality

Staying awake for one night was no big deal, but who knew how long this would last? How could he possibly never sleep?

If he kept this up, even if he didn’t die from exhaustion, he would surely go mad first.

What troubled him most was that he had used two different wooden effigy substitutes—one he always carried with him and another activated through his own spells—yet neither worked. This either meant that the other person's cultivation level far exceeded his, or that the person was highly skilled in this particular technique, or perhaps the method itself was exceptionally intricate.

Either way, it seemed like a real problem.

The middle-aged man rummaged through his belongings again and pulled out an ancient yellow gourd. He shook it vigorously for quite some time before finally extracting a black seed resembling a pumpkin seed, which landed in his palm.

“...”

The man hesitated, his face showing clear reluctance. After a moment of internal struggle, he gritted his teeth and made up his mind. He took a curved blade, dug a small hole in the ground, and planted the seed, covering it with a thin layer of soil. Then, he fetched some water and carefully poured it over the spot.

Murmuring under his breath, he chanted, “Celestial seeds of Mount Yi, do you understand human speech? If you do, grow quickly. Celestial seeds of Mount Yi, do you understand human speech? If you do, grow quickly.”

He repeated the chant without pause.

A speck of black appeared amidst the thin layer of soil. In the blink of an eye, that black speck broke through the dirt, and beneath it, a hint of green emerged—it was the seed he had just planted. It had now taken root, the black seed husk pushing upward. Before long, the husk fell away, revealing tender green leaves.

The leaves swiftly unfurled, their vibrant greenery charmingly delicate. The sprout shot up rapidly, as if by some miracle.

The plant seemed to brim with boundless vitality, growing at an astonishing pace under the middle-aged man’s constant urging.

After about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, the room now housed a vine taller than a person. The vine was lush and green, resembling a pea plant. Small blue-violet flowers bloomed from its stems.

The middle-aged man finally ceased his chanting, gazing at the vine. He then muttered, “Celestial seeds of Mount Yi, do you understand human speech? If you do, remove the cursed spell from me.”

The middle-aged man spoke as he picked up the curved blade again, intending to wait for the flowers to wither and the vine to bear fruit. Once the fruit ripened, he would slice it off with a single cut, naturally severing the cursed spell afflicting him.

But after standing by with the curved blade for quite some time, the vine remained the same. The flowers were still in full bloom, without a single fruit forming.

“Hmm?”

The middle-aged man was momentarily stunned, frowning. He then chanted again, “Celestial seeds of Mount Yi, do you understand human speech? If you do, remove the cursed spell from me and bear fruit.”

The vine swayed as if blown by the wind.

What happened next shocked the middle-aged man. The vine suddenly withered, turning yellow and limp. Before he could step closer to inspect it, the vine burst into flames with a whoosh, reducing to ashes in the blink of an eye.

“...!” The middle-aged man was terrified.

He had dared to come to Changjing alone from Jingzhou, which naturally meant he had some skills and the means to protect himself.

The wooden effigy substitution technique was one that many in the jianghu and common folk dreamed of mastering. Even the famous mountain temples and Daoist monasteries didn’t necessarily possess such a method.

And the celestial seed of Mount Yi was even more extraordinary.

It was said that his ancestors, during their travels to celestial mountains, had once encountered a god or immortal on a mountain called Mount Yi. Whether the being was a god or immortal was unclear by now, but what was certain was that the god or immortal had gifted his ancestors a pouch of seeds.

These seeds were miraculous—no matter how severe a curse, injury, or illness one suffered, the seed could remove it as long as they hadn't died yet. If the curse or injury wasn’t too severe, the plant would bear new seeds after flowering, which could be used again.

For generations, the seeds had never failed, saving his ancestors from countless disasters. By the time the seeds were passed down to him, only two remained, both of which had already been used more than once and helped him avoid numerous calamities.

That god or immortal back then truly was a divine being.

But now, the celestial seed had failed! This was the first time it failed.

Not only had he never experienced this, but he had never even heard of such a thing happening. It would’ve been one thing if the seed simply failed, but it had burned to ashes entirely.

The more the middle-aged man thought about it, the more alarmed he became. Suddenly, he sensed movement from the gourd. In a panic, he quickly took it out to check, shaking it several times. But instead of producing the last remaining seed, all that came out was a bit of ash.

***

Three days later, the sun was shining brightly.

The windows on the second floor were closed, but they weren't tightly sealed. A narrow gap in the middle allowed a sliver of sunlight to slip through, illuminating the dust dancing in the air, along with a few stray cat hairs.

A calico cat lay leisurely on the floor, her fur fluffy. She raised a small paw, gently swiping at the air as if trying to touch the sparkling dust in the sunlight. Of course, she couldn’t catch it, but she seemed to understand that. She was merely playing, swiping casually without any real intention of grabbing hold.

The Daoist stood nearby, watching her.

Neither the person nor the cat had anything else to do, yet it didn’t seem like either of them was idle. They were simply enjoying the afternoon together.

For the Daoist, this was often how things were. The cat didn’t need to do anything at all, yet her presence alone made everything feel wonderfully peaceful.

Suddenly, there was a knocking sound from below

“Knock, knock...”

The calico cat startled, trembling slightly while keeping her paw raised in the air. She turned her head to look downstairs, then glanced at the Daoist and said, “It's that woman.”

“Mm.”

“And the man from that day.”

“Oh?” Song You withdrew his gaze from the cat and stood up.

The cat hurriedly got to her feet, following him to see what was happening.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

With a creak, the door was opened. Standing outside was a heroine, accompanied by a middle-aged man in a blue robe, looking weary and bent over with his head lowered.

“This guy’s pretty interesting. He’s been waiting for me at the west gate every day,” Heroine Wu said with a chuckle. “The day before yesterday, I didn’t leave the city. And yesterday, I left in disguise, so he didn’t recognize me. Only today did he finally catch me.”

She glanced at the man and continued, “He seems to have something to say to you.”

Then she turned her head toward the middle-aged man and said, “Go ahead.”

The man hurriedly lifted his head.

Just three days ago, he had still appeared as a composed and elegant middle-aged man. Though he had been short on money, he hadn’t looked destitute. But now, after just three days, he appeared much more haggard. His complexion was sallow, his eyes sunken and rimmed with darkness. His hair greasy was as if it had been slathered with lard, and his bloodshot eyes only added to his disheveled state.

“Mister!” he cried.

The middle-aged man bowed and said, “I was ignorant and offended you, sir. Now I realize my mistake. I will go to the county yamen and confess to the magistrate, and I’ll accept my punishment. Please, sir, withdraw your magic.”

Song You stood calmly at the doorway, gazing at him. “Where did you acquire the Quzai Vine?”

“Quzai Vine?”

The middle-aged man’s mind was in a muddle. After a moment of confusion, he finally understood and replied respectfully, “My master’s master once traveled the world and encountered a divine being on Mount Yi. The divine being gifted our family with some seeds, which we have always called the Celestial Seeds of Mount Yi.”

“I see.”

“Sir, are you familiar with these celestial seeds?”

“In my sect, there was an ancestor who loved to collect rare and spiritual plants from all over, and even combined his own knowledge of spells to cultivate some unique flora,” Song You said indifferently. “It seems my master’s master had a connection with yours.”

“You mean to say...” The middle-aged man’s eyes widened in shock.

His head throbbed with pain as the realization slowly dawned on him. He could never have imagined that the man before him was a descendant of the divine being his ancestors had spoken of for generations.

“I was blind and ignorant of your divine lineage! Please, great immortal, have mercy on me for the sake of that past connection!”

“That connection was from long ago. I never knew that ancestor, and besides, this situation doesn’t warrant such talk of mercy.” Song You’s tone remained cool. “Since you did not intend to take my life, I have no reason to take yours. But your methods of seeking wealth are truly dishonorable.”

“Please punish me as you see fit, immortal!”

“The spell I cast lasts seven days. For an ordinary person, going seven days without sleep could be fatal or bring great harm. But since you possess some cultivation, it shouldn't be too damaging,” Song You explained. “As for that last Quzai Vine seed, I’ll take it on behalf of my ancestor.”

“Thank you, immortal!”

“I am no immortal,” Song You replied. “Just remember this lesson. Walk the righteous path from now on and rid yourself of such crooked thoughts. Don’t dishonor the virtue of your ancestors.”

“Thank you, thank you...” The middle-aged man bowed repeatedly before hurriedly turning to leave, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.

Soon, the doorway was quiet once more.

Only Heroine Wu stood there, her face filled with surprise. The calico cat, eyes wide as well, looked equally confused, having no idea what had just transpired.

“What did you do?”

“Meow?”

“Just a small trick, nothing noteworthy.”

“What was he saying about a divine being?”

“It was likely one of the ancestors from my sect. I’ve never met them.” Song You shook his head and explained, “It seems there was a connection between his master’s master and mine.”

“And what is the Quzai Vine?” Heroine Wu kept asking, her eyes wide like the children from Lingbo County who used to sit under trees, eager to hear unusual stories.

“It’s a remarkable creation from my master's master. It can understand human speech. Once you plant it in the right place, it grows rapidly, blooming within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. If you sincerely ask it, it can remove misfortunes or illnesses from a person, and the fruit it produces signifies that the misfortune or illness has been removed. As for the principles behind it, I don’t fully understand.”

Song You patiently explained, providing as much detail as he could.

“That’s impressive, Daoist master!”

“It was my master’s master skill, not mine,” Song You said. “When you go to the county yamen for your reward, it should go smoothly.”

“You’re impressive too.”

“Everyone has their strengths,” Song You remarked.

“Once again, it’s thanks to you.”

“Not at all. The credit for catching the ghost belongs to you. This was just an unexpected incident. Since we are companions, naturally, whoever has the most effective means should handle it.”

Song You glanced in the direction the man had left, feeling somewhat contemplative.

The heirs of Hidden Dragon Temple had walked the world for generations, inevitably forming connections with people, just like this moment. The middle-aged man’s ancestor must have been a good person, which is why Song You’s master’s master gifted him the Quzai Vine seed, likely intending to ensure the wellbeing of his descendants. Yet over time, things had changed.

The passage of time was unpredictable. Who could truly foresee the future?

Song You looked at the heroine beside him.

During his journey down the mountain, he had formed connections with many people. But aside from Lady Calico, the most profound, peculiar, and pleasant connection he had was with this heroine.

Who knew what the future held in the years to come?

Ah, he was thinking too much. He didn’t have anything to pass down for hundreds of years to give to anyone.