Unintended Immortality-Chapter 297: Arriving in Yuezhou in the Winter of the Sixth Year of Mingde

About ten days later, it seemed winter had arrived. The group had long since entered Yuezhou.

The Daoist walked ahead alone, leaning on his staff, while the jujube-red horse followed silently as usual. Lady Calico, however, didn’t dash about sniffing, exploring, and looking at everything as she usually did. Instead, voices kept sounding from behind.

“How did the old Swallow Immortal become the Swallow God?”

“He became a god through imperial decree and the merit of good deeds.”

“But how exactly did he become a god?”

“The ancestor was already a divine being, supported by incense offerings, but his influence was limited to Anqing. There hasn’t been an imperial decree or official acknowledgment from the Heavenly Palace confirming his deity status. Over the past two years, Xuzhou’s entire population became his followers. With the court’s decree, all he had to do was shed his mortal body to automatically manifest a divine spiritual form, ascend to the heavens, and take his place among the immortals.”

“Shed his mortal body!”

“What about it?”

“How does one shed their mortal body?”

“By dying,” the swallow explained. “The ancestor was already nearing the end of his life span. I was standing outside his door at the time. Suddenly, I heard a rooster crow from somewhere, and then the ancestor ascended to the heavens.”

“I see…”

Lady Calico mimicked the Daoist’s tone. Her enthusiasm seemed noticeably diminished.

“That’s how it is for most deities,” the swallow added softly. “But over time, these stories get exaggerated and embellished, making it all sound grander than it actually was. Most myths and legends start out quite ordinary.”

“I don’t understand,” Lady Calico said.

“That’s just how it is,” the swallow said, though unwilling for the cat to look down on its mighty ancestor.

It added, “But the ancestor was incredible. Thanks to Mr. Song You, even before ascending to become a deity, many people were already devoutly worshiping him. The incense offerings and wishes he received far surpassed anything before. Plus, with a thousand years of cultivation prior to becoming a god, he’s bound to become a major deity in the future.”

Lady Calico listened, her little face full of wonder.

She trotted forward in her tiny steps, occasionally turning her head to the side to look at the swallow flying low beside the jujube-red horse.

Seeing this, the swallow continued, “Do you know where they ascend from the first time they rise to the heavens after becoming a legitimate god of the Heavenly Palace?”

“I don’t know...”

The swallow said, “There’s a mountain in each direction that reaches closest to the heavens. The northernmost one is Mount Tianzhu, where we’ll be heading later. Then there’s Mount Zunzhe in the south, Mount Tianjin in the west, Mount Wubian in the east, and Mount Ding in the center—the one many emperors frequently visit.

“These mountains are the tallest, and for a divine being to ascend to the heavens and become a god for the first time, they must do so from one of these. Afterward, it’s much easier—they can just fly straight up anytime.”

“That’s amazing…” This truly struck a chord in Lady Calico’s knowledge gap.

After all, as a tiny illegitimate Cat God with followers scattered across just a few villages, lacking even imperial recognition, and not even on par with an Earth God, how could she possibly know such things?

Yet, she loved listening—loved it immensely. To her, it all sounded absolutely fascinating.

The Daoist was already used to such conversations.

Ever since the swallow had returned, these two little demons chatted whenever they had the chance.

Most of the time, it was Lady Calico pestering the swallow, asking all sorts of questions. Initially, the swallow was timid and reluctant to talk much, but once it got into the mood, the conversations became more natural.

At first, the swallow recounted its experiences overseas, the man-eating demons it encountered, fish larger than houses, and turtles capable of carrying small islands. In return, Lady Calico talked about her adventures after parting ways in Xiangle—how she and the Daoist encountered Mountain Gods, met an emperor and the Snake Immortal, and defeated northern monsters.

She even mentioned borrowing a mountain from Pingzhou. Many of these details Song You had assumed she had long forgotten, but it turned out she simply didn’t usually talk about them; in truth, she remembered every detail.

Yesterday, they had finally finished recounting their tales, and today, they were discussing other topics.

It seemed that after a long separation, there was indeed a kind of magical bond that, at the right time, could deepen a past friendship. This magical bond worked not only for humans but also for demons.

After reuniting, Lady Calico and the swallow seemed far less distant than they had been years ago.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Perhaps it was because during the swallow’s lonely travels overseas, it often remembered the times when Lady Calico had worked tirelessly to catch bugs for it on the road.

This was a good thing. The children’s growth always benefited from the involvement of their peers.

When Song You traveled with Lady Calico, their psychological ages were worlds apart. Lady Calico’s development, like that of most demons, followed a different trajectory from humans.

As an adult cat, she had a mature side, her self-reliance far surpassing that of human youths. Yet as a cat, she also had an immature side, perhaps comparable to a child of a few years old. Even then, there were significant differences between her and a child due to the inherent disparities between species.

And this side of her changed very slowly.

Though the swallow was a young adult, its personality was simple and reserved. It had also spent much of its life in the mountains away from the human world. Moreover, the ways of thinking between demons, animals, and humans were different. While it was slightly more mature than Lady Calico, the difference wasn’t significant.

After its return from overseas, the swallow had only gained more experience and shed some of its timidity.

The cat and the bird, however, now had things to talk about. This might be good for both of them.

Still, the swallow seemed perpetually unable to overcome its fear of cats. No matter how much they conversed, it always maintained a cautious distance from her.

“I’ve got to go now,” the swallow said, flapping its wings and looking into the distance. “I need to keep scouting ahead.”

With a slight exertion, the swallow soared into the sky, quickly disappearing into the vast expanse above.

Lady Calico paused for a moment, scratching her head with her hind leg, then resumed her tiny steps. Catching up to the Daoist, she hurriedly asked, “Daoist priest, Daoist, is it true that immortals have to ascend to the heavens from those places for the first time?”

The Daoist turned to look at her, smiling warmly.

“It’s true,” he replied patiently.

Not long after, the swallow returned.

“Sir, after crossing a mountain ahead, if you turn left, you’ll reach Mount Huangsha. It’s about twenty li from here.”

“Understood.”

Yuezhou was no longer a grassland. Its terrain was similar to the southern regions, with mountains, rivers, and trees. The main difference lay in the types of trees, which varied slightly from those in Yizhou or Xuzhou.

After crossing a mountain, Mount Huangsha came into view.

Mount Huangsha wasn’t tall but was quite expansive. Despite its name[1], it wasn’t actually yellow but a reddish-brown soil with a yellowish tint. The mountain had weathered into barren sand, with only a sparse scattering of trees, most of which were withered in the winter.

The mountain was dotted with numerous wooden huts, built in a disorderly fashion. It was unclear whether they had aged over the years or was naturally that way, but their color leaned towards black. From a distance, their size seemed just enough to fit a person lying down.

A narrow path led straight to the mountain’s base.

Beyond that, it didn’t really matter anymore if the mountain had any formal paths. Since vegetation barely grew, people could walk anywhere. The areas most frequently traversed were flattened, forming makeshift trails.

Faintly, figures could be seen moving about the mountain.

There were also people carrying wooden poles with red-tasseled spears, walking along the narrow path from the mountain base toward their direction, their destination unknown.

Judging by its scale and number of members, the Changqiang Sect likely far surpassed other sects in the jianghu, such as the Xishan Sect, Yunhe Sect, or the Jindao Sect.

Perhaps only interest-driven factions like those involved in water transport and smuggling illicit salt could exceed it. However, such profit-focused factions were fundamentally different from jianghu sects specializing in the martial arts and shouldn’t be compared directly.

The reason lay in the fact that Great Yan was currently in a flourishing era. The court maintained oversight of jianghu sects, and any legitimate sect—whether it was the Yunhe Sect with its court backing and business acumen, or the Xishan Sect hidden deep in the mountains—would attract government scrutiny once their numbers grew too large, as long as their core disciples were solely focused on martial arts.

Only sects like the Changqiang Sect, situated in the chaotic northern regions and supported by high-ranking military officials, could thrive and expand.

More than a decade ago, after the war, Yuezhou was left almost empty—devoid of civilians, let alone officials. Who would bother to oversee the Changqiang Sect then?

It was said that later, many jianghu martial artists from the north who had lost family members in the war came to seek refuge in the Changqiang Sect. Even displaced individuals with nowhere else to go often chose the sect as their first option if they wished to learn martial arts.

Those who trained successfully could directly enter the northern garrison through the sect, and as long as their skills were exceptional, their future prospects were limitless.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, a few men carrying spears appeared ahead.

The spears had coarse wooden shafts with red tassels, carried in various ways—some held casually, others leaning on them for support, and some slung over shoulders. The men walked in no particular formation, chatting as they went, their destination and purpose unclear.

Upon spotting the Daoist, their curiosity was piqued. They sized him up, exchanging glances with one another.

The recent cessation of war in the north had made it rare to see outsiders in the area, let alone a Daoist traveling with a horse that required no reins and a cat that obediently followed along. The Daoist himself stood out—his robes, though old, were clean. And his demeanor, despite his youth, was calm and composed.

“This gentleman…”

One of them stopped, resting his red-tasseled spear on his shoulder, and asked, “Are you perhaps a fellow martial artist from another region visiting our Changqiang Sect?”

His tone carried the respect Great Yan people typically showed toward Daoists.

“Not at all,” Song You replied, stopping by the roadside.

Turning slightly toward them, he cupped his hands in greeting. “I am merely a wandering Daoist. While passing through Yanzhou, I happened upon a number of post tubes on the grasslands.

“These should have been letters from the garrison at Liaoxin Pass, intended for Yuanzhi City or elsewhere. Many of them were likely written by disciples of the Changqiang Sect and were addressed to the sect. I happened to be heading in this direction, so I brought them along.”

“What post tubes and letters?”

“Take them out and let us see.”

The group immediately gathered around upon hearing this.

“Here it is…”

The Daoist turned and reached into the saddlebag on the back of the jujube-red horse. After a brief search, he pulled out two bamboo tubes and handed them to the man who had spoken first.

The man took the tubes and examined them up and down.

“I can’t read…” He turned to the others behind him and asked, “Can any of you read?”

“I can’t read either…”

“I know a few words, but just a few.”

“Better take it back and check…”

Their conversation was interspersed with a few phrases in a regional dialect that Song You couldn’t understand.

Seeing this, Song You took the bamboo tubes back from the man and said, “This one says: Liu Huzi of Changqiang Sect in Huangsha of Wu Commandery, Yuezhou. There are a dozen more like this.”

“Liu Huzi?”

“Isn’t that the name of the Third Hall’s leader?”

“Yes, isn’t that Lord Liu’s name?”

The group began exchanging words, discussing among themselves.

After some deliberation, they decided that the man who had spoken first would accompany Song You up Mount Huangsha, while the others continued on their way.

Overhead, the swallow gracefully cut through the air, following the Daoist.

“A bird…”

“We should shoot it down!”

“I’ve been eating beans, marmots, and rabbits every day. It’s been ages since I’ve had bird meat.”

“Same here.”

The swallow instinctively flew a bit higher without realizing it.

1. Mount Huangsha translates to Yellow Sand Mountain. ☜