Unintended Immortality-Chapter 310: A Historical Drama by the Roadside

Today's story was one Song You was eager to hear.

When he and Lady Calico left the military camp, it had been mid-September, deep into autumn. Now, it was already the end of December, just a few days before the New Year. More than three months had passed. During this time, the entirety of Yuezhou had been practically deserted, making this leg of the journey the loneliest since descending the mountain, with no news to be heard anywhere.

Song You wanted to know what had happened in the army after he left. That was something that occurred after his departure.

However, the storyteller, clearly well-versed in his craft, didn’t immediately reveal the answer Song You sought. Instead, he raised his voice and began, “They travelled 800 li a day! Over three thousand li, through clouds and moonlight, the courier took less than four days to deliver the message from the army to Changjing!

“The capital was shaken, and the court was overjoyed! But joy aside, the matter of General Chen’s proposal to continue leading the troops north sparked heated debate in court!

“Of course, it had to be discussed! This is no small matter!

“There were those in favor, but naturally, there were also those opposed!

“Last year, the northern frontier people invaded with the support of demons, even breaching the border at one point. The five northern strongholds all fell. It was only after General Chen rushed back to stabilize the front that they slowly regained control.

“Over the following year, the five strongholds and the three passes were lost and reclaimed countless times. How many people died? How much in resources and supplies was spent? It was only with the help of immortals that they were able to turn the tide and launch a counteroffensive. Even then, they fought for over three months and suffered heavy losses.

“Now, with the frontier army exhausted, they’re proposing to press north again. But the northern frontier people are no pushovers. What if we invade deep into enemy territory and lose?

“Wouldn’t you agree?

“Oh, the debates in court were fierce... Not just arguments—there were even fistfights!”

The storyteller’s face scrunched up, as though he himself were distressed by the unfolding drama.

Then, he lowered his voice as if revealing a secret, “Let me tell you all something quietly—His Majesty naturally wants to continue with the war. So who was the one who opposed? It’s Princess Changping!

“His Majesty is advanced in age and has been in poor health recently. The two princes are still young, so most court affairs have been handled by Princess Changping. After hearing about the general’s proposal, she wasn’t too keen on continuing the war. She hopes for peace and recovery...”

His voice grew softer and softer, as though discussing some profound taboo.

Song You couldn’t help but smile.

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Throughout history, the customs and practices varied across different dynasties. Some were indeed strict about discussing state affairs, but Great Yan wasn’t one of them. In Changjing, common folk openly debated national issues on the streets. It wasn’t unusual for scholars to criticize the Emperor, directly or indirectly.

Ancient times, in some ways, weren’t necessarily more conservative than the modern day. As long as it wasn’t intentional defamation of the court or royal family, such discussions were generally no big deal in Great Yan.

The storyteller, it seemed, was deliberately creating suspense.

And it worked brilliantly.

The audience, mostly rural villagers from remote areas, likely didn’t know the Emperor’s name, let alone often hear news of the court or royal family. They also wouldn’t know whether such things could be talked about. Hearing the storyteller’s cautious tone, they were unwittingly drawn in, treating it as something clandestine and serious—some forbidden tale they were lucky to hear.

This added an unusual thrill.

Song You, meanwhile, picked up Lady Calico’s special bowl, poured a small amount of tea, and handed it to the cat beside him.

“There were ten days of deadlock! How could the northern army afford such delays?

“That's an enormous number of troops and horses! How much food and fodder would they consume in a single day? Advancing 800 li deep into enemy territory—how dangerous is that? And can you imagine how difficult it would be to transport supplies to them?

“Every day the weather grew colder, and if they waited any longer, it would start snowing. On those vast, snowy plains, how could they wage war?

“Rumor has it that, in the end, His Majesty personally attended court and issued a decree despite being ill. He wrote an edict instructing the envoy to deliver it to General Chen, commanding him to lead the troops north.

“But even then...”

The storyteller’s voice dropped again.

“I may be old, but I still have my connections. That’s how I heard that even so, the princess still opposed it. What exactly happened, we don’t know, nor would we dare to say even if we did. All we heard is that for half a month, the capital was in turmoil. The imperial guards entered the city, and who knows how many heads rolled.”

“But what kind of person is our current Emperor?

“Throughout history, across all dynasties, which one could compare to the might of our Great Yan? Over two hundred years of rule, has there ever been a dynasty as prosperous as ours? Though His Majesty’s health may be slightly ailing, his domineering aura, capable of unifying the lands and swallowing the eight directions, remains undiminished. His Majesty is not so easily shaken!

“What truly happened in the capital during that time will only be fully understood hundreds or thousands of years from now.

“I can only tell you this much: the Princess was quickly stripped of her title by His Majesty, and her influence was uprooted entirely. Tsk tsk, when the Princess's residence was at the height of its power, it wielded immense influence.

“And now? No matter how high the towers and pavilions she built, they’ve become nothing more than fleeting illusions. After all, this world was never meant to fall into the hands of a woman.”

Hearing this, Song You was momentarily taken aback.

The storyteller’s narrative had veered wildly off course—it was as if he had turned a horse into a cow. Still, for the most part, the endings of such tales were reliable enough.

Quietly, he raised his cup and drank his tea.

In his mind, scenes began to form: an aged Emperor, perhaps genuinely ill or perhaps feigning it; a middle-aged princess wielding authority over court affairs; and a fierce battle of wits and power, both overt and covert, playing out amidst this backdrop.

How many storms had been stirred up? How many of his old acquaintances in Changjing had been affected?

He could only hope that they were all safe and well.

Song You had known for a long time that after he left Changjing, the capital would undoubtedly become the stage for a historical drama—one that could unfold over a few years or stretch across decades. Either he would return to the capital to witness the conclusion, or he would catch glimpses of its climactic moments from afar while on his journey.

What he hadn’t expected was to hear about one of these pivotal moments today in Zhaozhou, so far from Changjing, from the mouth of a roadside storyteller at a teahouse in such an unassuming manner.

There was something strangely poignant about it.

Listening to it now, of course, could not compare to seeing or hearing it firsthand. But as someone living in this era, Song You was still a participant in these times.

Our eyes were only so wide, and in the vast expanse of heaven and earth, humans were small. No one could witness everything with their own eyes, and everyone had matters at hand to focus on. Attending to the present while staying informed about other events wasn’t a bad approach either.

“The story has branched into two separate threads, and we will address them one at a time.

“The courier, upon receiving the imperial edict, rushed it northward. The journey of three thousand li that took four days on the way there was cut to just three on the return trip. When General Chen received the decree, the drums thundered, summoning the troops immediately.

“Forces were marshaled, divided into several groups, and advanced into the northern frontier territories all at once. By then, the power of the northern frontier had already been scattered—how could they possibly resist?

“Whoa! That battle was nothing short of magnificent!

“Unstoppable and unmatched, they swept through all opposition!

“In just half a month, they reached Mayidong, the seat of the northern frontier king’s court. They trampled it to the ground, and advanced over two thousand li further into the northern frontier territories before stopping! And they weren’t in any hurry.

“They picked a tall mountain, built an altar, and offered sacrifices to the heavens, reporting their victory to the higher powers and making sure the northern frontier people knew how far they’d been driven. Only then did they withdraw their troops...”

“...” The Daoist listened intently.

It seemed he had just passed through the most dazzling chapter in the history of this land.

The audience in the teahouse was even more captivated. Many had their fists clenched in excitement.

Those gathered around tables playing dice had unconsciously stopped their games, staring at the storyteller with vacant yet enthralled expressions, completely absorbed in the tale.

Song You even noticed someone standing frozen in place, seemingly forgetting their excitement, their breathing becoming heavier—as if the weight of history itself bore down upon them. For those living as insignificant figures in the grand tapestry of their time, merely hearing such monumental events could feel overwhelming, leaving them gasping for air.

Beside him, the young man’s eyes had long been shining with admiration.

The storyteller paused for a short break after finishing the segment.

The youth, still breathing heavily, seemed as though he wished he were a few years older so he could join the army, follow the general, achieve unparalleled glory, and leave his name etched in history.

It wasn’t until he caught sight of the Daoist glancing at him out of the corner of his eye that he quickly composed himself, holding his breath and feigning a calm and steady demeanor. He thought the Daoist couldn’t see through his act.

The Daoist merely smiled, not exposing him.

“Feeling idle these days, young sir?”

The youth immediately replied with feigned composure, “It’s nearing the New Year. Although there are many people coming in and out of the city, the demand for guides is about the same as usual. We poor folk also want to take a little break.”

“It’s good to take a break,” the Daoist said to him. “Young sir, there’s a trace of fatigue between your brows. Though your blood and qi are strong, there are signs of depletion and impurities. These are symptoms of hidden illnesses caused by overexertion.

“If this continues, you may end up with chronic ailments from overburdening your body. While you may not feel it when you’re young, as you age, the problems will surface.”

“Sir, do you practice medicine?”

“I am a Daoist.”

“Oh, many Daoists know medicine,” the youth replied in a tone that suggested he had seen it all.

“I practice magic.”

“...”

The youth was briefly embarrassed, his dark face turning slightly red, though he maintained a composed expression. He continued asking, “What happens with hidden illnesses?”

“At best, you’ll carry a body full of injuries and illnesses into old age, living in constant discomfort. At worst, it will shorten your life and send you to an early grave.”

“...” The youth fell silent for a moment before finally speaking. “How many martial artists don’t have a body full of injuries and hidden ailments?”

“That’s true,” the Daoist replied, “but it’s also related to carelessness and ignorance in maintaining one’s health during youth. Whether you can completely rid yourself of such issues depends on the individual. However, paying a bit more attention can at least slow the damage and lessen the impact.”

He added, “People say that health preservation is for the elderly, but that’s just scrambling to fix things too late. In reality, youth is the most critical time to care for the body.”

The youth’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

The Daoist, kind-hearted as he was, saw the goodness in the youth and offered one more piece of advice out of goodwill.

“Balance work and rest, and make time to recuperate. Even with martial arts—something that regresses if you don’t advance—rushing can be counterproductive. If circumstances allow, you might also consider improving your diet. River fish, while less expensive than poultry or game due to their fishy smell, are highly nutritious and particularly beneficial for martial artists.

“In this season, when the riverbanks freeze over, I’ve heard it’s easy to catch fish by simply breaking the ice. Supplies are abundant in this area, and the streams in the mountains outside the city are teeming with river fish. You could even catch them with just a stick. It doesn’t require money, only some effort.”

The youth's eyes continued to flicker.

At his age, pride was paramount. Admitting he’d fallen short or done something wrong was out of the question. But having wandered the jianghu for a few years despite his youth, he could discern the value in the Daoist’s words. After a moment of thought, he cupped his hands respectfully toward the Daoist.

“Thank you for your guidance!”

The Daoist smiled and said no more.

It wasn’t until the storyteller had finished his tale that the Daoist bid farewell to the youth. Thinking that the peppers he had left to dry in the sun were likely ready, he decided not to linger but instead slowly made his way back to gather them.