Unintended Immortality-Chapter 522: The Danxia Desert and the Wheat Reapers

“Ding, ding, ding...”

The crisp sound of horse bells echoed through the mountains.

Above, the sky was a flawless expanse of blue. Below, undulating hills stretched endlessly in a single direction, resembling frozen waves in an ocean of sand and rock.

Though sparse in vegetation, the landscape was far from monotonous. Instead, it was painted in surreal and dreamlike hues—an earthy base interwoven with streaks of grayish-white, deep blue, crimson, pale red, black-green, and golden yellow. These vibrant layers formed intricate patterns along the hills, their dazzling colors shining under the relentless sun.

The scorching heat was relentless, yet the air was so clean and clear that it felt almost unreal.

Suddenly, atop a small hill, a calico cat appeared.

She climbed to the highest point, her amber eyes glistening with clarity as she stretched her neck, scanning her surroundings. She took in every detail, her gaze filled with curiosity.

As if finding the sight particularly extraordinary, her pupils dilated ever so slightly despite the bright sunlight.

Then, she turned her head downward.

“Ding, ding, ding...”

A group of figures swayed slightly as they walked toward her.

Leading the way were several rugged men, their clothes tattered. Despite the lingering heat of early autumn, they strode forward with open chests and bare midriffs, seemingly unaffected by the harsh sun. Behind them was a Daoist, leaning on a bamboo staff. Trailing the Daoist was a leisurely moving jujube-red horse, the source of the bell’s rhythmic chime—its collar adorned with a small brass bell.

The cat tilted her head slightly.

In the distance, a swallow soared high in the sky.

The travelers walked as though they were moving through a living painting—one bursting with bold, vivid colors.

Where had they come from?

Where were they going?

And how long had they been wandering through this vast and dazzling world?

The cat faced the warm mountain breeze, turning her head for one last glance at this strange and colorful land before swiftly twisting her body and dashing down the hill. In a flash, she was back at the Daoist’s side.

“How was the view from up there?”

“Meow?”

The calico cat was truly puzzled. Why was the ground here painted in so many colors?

The Daoist pressed his lips together, pondering for a moment before explaining, “It’s because this land contains a rich variety of minerals. Over tens of millions of years, geological movements created fault lines, and through endless cycles of weathering and erosion, the landscape kept changing—over and over, shifting and transforming—until it became what you see now, this ‘painted’ land.”

The cat took small, quick steps beside him, turning her head to stare at him intently.

“Meow...”

“In short, it’s a remarkable accident of nature—a rare and unique masterpiece formed by countless coincidences. That’s why such an awe-inspiring sight exists in this world.” Song You paused before adding, “So, for you to encounter it at this very moment is an incredibly rare and wonderful thing. It required an immense amount of fate to bring you here.”

As he spoke, a smile naturally spread across his face, his voice softening. “But in a vast world like this, the fact that Lady Calico and this land were able to meet at all is already a rare and fateful occurrence.”

“Meow...”

The cat narrowed her eyes at the Daoist. Why didn’t he just say that from the beginning?

The Daoist merely shook his head and smiled, offering no further explanation.

Meanwhile, the rough-looking men walking ahead had overheard their conversation. They couldn’t help but glance back at Song You.

Throughout the journey, they had often heard him talking to the cat. Strangely enough, the cat always seemed to answer, and the Daoist, in turn, always had a response for her.

“You can understand what it’s saying?”

One of the men, his skin darkened to a deep bronze by the sun, wiped his sweat with the hem of his shirt and couldn’t resist asking.

“The journey is long, and traveling alone can be dull. A little conversation makes for good company and helps pass the time,” Song You replied with a lighthearted smile, sidestepping the question.

“We thought you could actually understand cat language!”

The man didn’t quite understand Song You’s earlier words, but when it came to discussing the land, he had something to contribute. He spoke up,

“Locals here call this place Danxia. Some even call it Seven-Colored Danxia. There’s a legend that long ago, the sky cracked, and an immortal used five-colored stones to mend it. Those stones needed to be refined, but a wicked immortal stole a good portion of them. That wicked one then dumped the stolen stones from the heavens, and they just so happened to fall here, turning these mountains into their colorful hues.”

“Meow meow meow meow...”

The cat found the way he pronounced ‘colorful hues’ amusing and couldn’t help but imitate him.

Unfortunately, only the Daoist understood what she was trying to do.

“I heard a different version,” said another man, an old, wiry fellow tanned deep by the sun. “They say two immortals were fighting in the sky, and one of them shattered the sunset skies. The colors of the twilight spilled down from the heavens, dyeing these mountains in all these shades.”

“I’ve heard both of those stories,” chimed in another middle-aged man. “But there’s another version. It says that the great Old Lord was refining immortal's elixir in the heavens. Somehow, he knocked over the alchemy furnace. The furnace was full of unfinished elixirs, all swirling in vibrant colors. Since they weren’t fully solidified yet, they were still in a liquid state when they spilled out and rained down here, staining the mountains. That’s why it’s called Danxia[1].”

Song You couldn’t help but smile as he listened.

Many folk legends were obviously fabricated, and one could tell just by the way the same phenomenon had multiple contradictory explanations.

Take the formation of Danxia—even if one of these stories were true, it was clear that not all of them could be.

And yet, these tales were fascinating in their own right.

Their charm lay in how they directly satisfied people’s curiosity. They were simple, fitting for their era, created and believed by the people of their time. In that sense, they offered a glimpse into the minds and worldviews of the common folk, reflecting a piece of their era’s culture.

The Daoist listened without commenting, while the cat walked beside him, her head turned toward the men, her bright eyes filled with wonder.

“Doesn’t really matter how it got here,” the middle-aged man continued. “But you folks sure are lucky. This Danxia usually doesn’t appear so vivid; it tends to be a bit more subdued. However, after it rains, its colors become more vibrant, and when the sun shines on it, it appears even more striking.” His accent was thick as he added, “It rained yesterday, and now the sun’s shining.”

Song You raised an eyebrow slightly in acknowledgment and replied, “Then it truly must be fate.” frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

“Where are you headed?”

“Westward.”

“What for?” the man asked, sounding skeptical. “There’s a severe drought in the west this year. Lots of people can’t even survive. Only the merchants who trade goods are making money. Besides, they don’t believe in Daoism over there, most of them follow Buddhism. What’s a Daoist like you traveling all that way for?”

“I’m traveling and experiencing the world.”

“How carefree...”

“Do you know if there’s a place to stay ahead?”

“Follow this path—the one with the most hoofprints. Don't stray into Danxia itself; it’s easy to lose your way in there. And don’t take any of the smaller side paths either, you might end up walking straight into a bandit hideout in the mountains. There’s a roadside inn up ahead where many small-time merchants stop to rest. We’ll be staying there tonight as well.”

“Much appreciated.”

Though it was already early autumn, the sun was still blindingly intense. The group was already weary and hadn’t brought much water. After a brief chat with Song You, the moment thirst set in, they immediately fell silent, unwilling to waste another word.

They marched on with their heads down, the air growing heavier and more stifling.

Despite their small stature, the men walked with surprising speed once they picked up the pace, leaving the unhurried Song You behind with only a quick warning—watch out for bandits riding on horses. Soon, they had disappeared ahead.

The Daoist, however, maintained his steady rhythm.

Only then did the calico cat, who had been holding back her curiosity, finally let loose. She trotted ahead of him, her little paws moving in quick, lively steps. As she walked, she kept turning her head back toward him, bombarding him with a chaotic string of questions—was immortal's elixir really multicolored? What kind of pigment was inside the clouds and sunsets? How exactly did the sky break, and what kind of stone was used to mend it?

Song You answered all her questions with whatever nonsense came to mind.

After all, these were all stories people had made up. If others could make them up, then so could Daoist Song. As long as it entertained Lady Calico, a good story was a good story—truth or fiction made no difference.

Having satisfied her curiosity, the cat returned to her playful nature. She dashed left and right through the Danxia, occasionally leaping to swat at bugs, sometimes sprinting after lizards, and at other times climbing up hills to stretch her neck and take in the scenery.

The Daoist followed her up one such hill.

From here, he could take in the full view—brilliantly colored mineral deposits painted countless streaks across the mountain’s surface, while the rolling hills stretched like waves of multicolored earth. Just as the wheat reaper had said earlier, today’s Seven-Colored Danxia was at its most vivid, its hues strikingly bright beneath the sun. The endless, undulating terrain was an overwhelming feast for the eyes.

Nature was boundlessly wondrous, its beauty beyond measure.

We could not demand it to reveal its splendor whenever we wished. We could only hope that, when it did, we happened to be there to witness it.

Today was a day of extraordinary fortune.

Song You stood at the mountain’s peak for a long time, letting the wind blow past him before finally descending and returning to the main road.

In the Danxia desert, the sound of galloping hooves occasionally echoed—bandits attacking merchant caravans, robbing them, and even taking lives. But the Daoist hardly needed to lift a finger. With just a word, Lady Calico could deliver justice on behalf of the heavens.

They continued along the main road.

The sun gradually sank toward the horizon, its scorching afternoon heat fading. Now, it merely bathed the world in golden hues, casting long diagonal shadows over the rolling, wave-like Danxia mountains. The ruins of old pavilions scattered across the hills, while saxaul trees lining the roadside stretched their shadows across the earth. Amid this desolate yet dazzling desert, a single, lonely old building came into view.

A caravan inn—a familiar sight along trade routes.

In front of the inn, donkeys, mules, horses, and camels were tethered, alongside a few cargo wagons. A small tea stall stood by the entrance, where merchants sat sipping tea, some chatting, others deep in negotiations.

Among the travelers, Song You spotted the wheat reapers he had met earlier in the day.

But no matter how cheap the wooden bunk beds in the caravan inn might be, they were still too expensive for these wandering laborers, who traveled far and wide just to find work. They could not afford to stay. Instead, they gathered near the inn, picking a comfortable spot to lie down for the night—at least here, they could buy some water and find safety in numbers.

Song You had originally planned to lodge at the inn, to enjoy a warm, hearty meal.

But as he passed by the reapers, he hesitated, pausing for a moment in thought.

Then, instead of heading inside, he simply found an open space nearby and settled down to rest.

A journey should always be taken with the heart, without unnecessary constraints.

“...”

The Daoist sat cross-legged, watching as the night slowly descended.

The once-blazing Danxia desert began to cool, and as the sun sank completely below the horizon, it left behind a breathtaking afterglow. It was ethereal and dreamlike. Around him, the returning reapers chatted amongst themselves, their voices a chaotic yet lively mixture of stories from different lands. Overhead, the stars began to emerge, one by one, dotting the sky like scattered pearls.

It was, in its own way, a charming and unique moment.

As for Lady Calico, she had absolutely no concept of the difference between sleeping under the open sky and staying at an inn. All she knew was that money had been saved—and that once the desert turned dark, countless small creatures would appear, making the night lively and full of excitement.

1. The Chinese character 丹 (dān) refers to 丹药 (dān yào), which means elixir or alchemical pills, often associated with Daoist practices for longevity or immortality. The Chinese character 霞 (xiá) primarily means rosy clouds or glowing clouds, often seen at sunrise or sunset. ☜

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