Unintended Immortality-Chapter 525: If I Summon the Gods, Who Dares Not to Come?

It ran like an antelope, leaping high into the air. In the yellow-earth desert, it easily bounded over patches of wild grass, each landing kicking up small clouds of dust.

However, the pursuers behind it were relentless.

Arrows occasionally whistled through the air, striking the ground near it.

Perhaps it was desperate, or maybe it had sensed something in the Daoist’s nature—or even recognized the swallow flying above. Either way, the Driftling, with its pursuers in tow, rushed straight toward the Daoist’s group. The moment it reached them, it darted behind the Daoist and the jujube-red horse and stopped running altogether.

Lady Calico, the calico cat, turned around and stared at it in confusion.

The Driftling, meanwhile, remained behind the Daoist. It stretched its neck out to peek past him, silently watching the approaching figures.

“Hya!”

The pursuers swiftly pulled their horses to a stop. Sitting atop their mounts, they looked at the Daoist and the creature hiding behind him. Some frowned, others appeared wary, but all turned their attention toward the yellow-robed monk at the front.

The leading monk dismounted.

The rest of the group immediately followed suit, swiftly adjusting their positions. Armed with weapons, they surrounded Song You and his companions, though none pointed their weapons at him. Instead, all were aimed at the spirit beast hiding behind him.

“Amitabha...”

The leading monk, a stout man, clasped his hands together in greeting while studying Song You’s group. “My Dharma name is Xuanhua. I am the abbot of Xuanbi Temple in Shanan County, Ye Commandery, Longzhou. It is an honor to meet you.”

“I am Song You, a wandering Daoist. The honor is mine,” Song You returned the greeting.

The monk appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties, with large drooping ears. Though the northwest was a harsh land of bitter cold, scorching sun, and fierce winds, his complexion remained as smooth and pale as jade.

His features were not particularly handsome, but he exuded an undeniable sense of serenity and presence—just like Lady Calico and the swallow when they took on human forms. At a glance, it was clear he was no ordinary man.

That he was the abbot of Xuanbi Temple indicated he was the head of a monastic institution, and being addressed as abbot suggested he held considerable influence in the region’s Buddhist community.

Song You paused briefly. He glanced at the swallow perched on the horse’s head, then at the spirit beast behind him, before finally asking, “May I ask why you are pursuing this spirit beast?”

At his words, the group immediately realized from his tone and demeanor that this Daoist was no ordinary man.

“Daoist Song, are you from out of town?”

“I am from Yizhou, traveling through these lands.”

“You may not be aware, Daoist Song, but this year, Longzhou, Shazhou, and the Western Regions have all suffered from a severe drought,” Xuanhua explained. “This very spirit beast is the cause of it. At the request of Longzhou’s prefect, we have been tracking it for a long time. We finally found its trail recently. Daoist Master, please step aside so that we may capture it.”

As soon as Xuanhua finished speaking, the spirit beast behind Song You let out a soft, ethereal cry. Its voice echoed as if resonating through a deep valley.

Several of the warriors either flinched in surprise or became even more vigilant.

Yet the Daoist standing closest to it seemed unfazed, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. Instead, he simply asked, “Master, how do you know that this drought was caused by the spirit beast?”

“Historical records state that each time a great drought has struck the northwest, this creature has been sighted.” Xuanhua replied respectfully. “There is even a book that claims it is the one bringing the drought.”

“And does that book mention its name?”

“It is called the ‘Drought Deer.’“

“You’re mistaken.”

Song You remained calm as he shook his head and explained, “This creature’s name is Driftling. It is merely a spirit nurtured by the heavens and the earth. Though it indeed appears during times of disaster, it is inherently weak. It does not have the power to cause a drought spanning a thousand li, nor does it bring calamities upon the land.

“On the contrary, those with keen insight can use its presence to predict natural disasters and avoid misfortune. But if one believes that it brings natural disasters and thinks that killing it will put an end to the calamities—placing all hope of resisting disasters on this—then that would be a grave mistake.”

“This...”

Xuanhua wanted to refute him, but the Daoist’s words were spoken with such sincerity and conviction that he found himself at a loss for a strong argument. After all, he had no concrete proof.

At that moment, a young monk standing behind him muttered under his breath, “Has this man been bewitched?”

Xuanhua only turned his head slightly and waved a hand to silence the young monk. Then, looking back at Song You, he asked sincerely, “Where did you learn of this?”

“My grandmaster once verified it firsthand.”

“...”

Xuanhua took a moment to think, then pressed his hands together and asked, “Daoist Master, are you trying to persuade us to let the Drought Deer go?”

“That will not be an easy task,” Song You admitted. “To be honest, as I have traveled through the northwest, I have seen the suffering caused by the drought, and it pains me. I have spent the past few days thinking of ways to combat it.”

His tone was warm, polite, and sincere.

As he spoke, he glanced back at the spirit beast.

It was about the size of a goat, with an exceptionally slender and graceful figure, giving it an air of ethereal lightness. Its eyes were crystal clear, gazing at him without blinking.

“However, Driftlings are not the true cause of the drought. More importantly, during my journey, I suffered from hunger and thirst. It was only thanks to its guidance that I found water. This shows that it has a kind heart. If you capture it and kill it, you will be taking an innocent life.

“But if, after its death, you discover that the drought continues—or even worsens—you may find that your cultivation will be undone by the lingering doubts and remorse that haunt you night after night.”

“...”

His words were so earnest that Xuanhua was left in deep silence.

After a long pause, he first bowed to Song You in respect before asking, “Then, Daoist Master, do you have a way to end the drought?”

“I have been wondering about this for the past few days. Does this land not have any deities responsible for wind and rain?”

“There was once a Rain God...”

“Oh? What happened?”

“In the past, Longzhou and Shazhou enjoyed favorable weather, with ample rain and thriving grasslands. As a result, fewer people maintained the practice of offering sacrifices to the Rain God.”

Xuanhua paused slightly before continuing, “Moreover, the Rain God is a deity of Daoism. In recent years, Longzhou has remained relatively unchanged, but in Shazhou, many have turned to the teachings of my Buddha. Now, if we were to suddenly offer incense and pray for the Rain God's aid, how likely is it that he would heed our call?”

“That is true...”

After all, deities were derived from human belief and were meant to serve the people. However, they also possessed their own thoughts, and where there was thought, there was personality, temperament, and stance. Otherwise, there would not be so many fallen or disgraced deities.

When the land was lush and prosperous, people neglected the Rain God, and some even shifted their devotion toward Buddhism. But now, in a time of crisis, they wished to summon him to work on their behalf?

And once the drought was over, would they discard him again?

Things did not work that way.

Unless he was a deity of exceptional virtue, any ordinary god would likely choose to remain a mere observer, waiting for the people to suffer enough—waiting until they truly recognized his importance. At the very least, he would seize this disaster as an opportunity to absorb as much incense and faith as possible before considering intervention.

Song You pondered for a moment before saying, “If there is a proper altar and incense table, I am willing to persuade him.”

“That will not be easy.”

“I am skilled at persuasion.”

“...”

Xuanhua had to admit that this might actually be true.

Those who practiced Buddhist cultivation tended to have keen, perceptive eyes. From what he had seen and sensed thus far, this Daoist was not necessarily a silver-tongued debater, but his words were well-structured, his tone was sincere, and his manner was courteous. When someone speaks with such authenticity, it was naturally easier for others to accept their words.

“But I have heard that even the prefect of Longzhou sought out Daoist priests to set up an altar and invite the Rain God for aid, yet not a single one succeeded.”

“I am also skilled at summoning deities.”

“Daoist Master, you are so confident?”

“I have a modest reputation among the Heavenly Palace deities. That is why I would like to give it a try.”

“I see...”

Xuanhua alternated his gaze between Song You and the Driftling hiding behind him, his expression shifting into deep contemplation.

At that moment, another voice rang out, “Have the superior seeds of the Swallow Immortal been spread here as well?”

It was a youthful and clear voice, full of purity, and it clearly did not come from the Daoist.

Everyone turned toward the source of the voice, only to realize—to their shock—that it had come from the swallow perched atop the horse’s head.

Even the two young monks behind Master Xuanhua were visibly startled, their expressions turning wary as they stared at the bird.

Only Xuanhua remained calm, responding with respectful composure, “Yes, the superior seeds of the Swallow Immortal have been spread to Longzhou as well.”

“I am a descendant of the Swallow Immortal of Anqing,” the swallow spoke again, its beak opening and closing as human words emerged. Its voice was small, and upon closer listening, carried a slight tremor. “As long as my master offers incense and calls upon them, the number of deities in the Heavenly Palace who would dare not come can be counted on one hand. And those who would refuse to respond... are no more than three.”

The crowd fell silent in astonishment.

Even Xuanhua hesitated for a moment before studying the swallow carefully. In the end, he believed its words.

With divine endorsement—especially from the Swallow Immortal of Anqing, who had recently gained widespread renown in the Great Yan dynasty and had made tangible contributions to the people—Xuanhua no longer doubted. He closed his mouth and said nothing more.

Meanwhile, the Daoist slowly turned around and pointed in a direction, smiling at the small spirit beast behind him. “Consider this my repayment for leading me to water.”

“Whimper...”

“Be smarter in the future,” Song You advised gently. “If you know people suspect you of bringing drought, stay far away from them. Don’t let yourself get caught again.”

The spirit beast bent its legs and sprang forward, leaping toward the distant horizon.

Several warriors, bows in hand, had already formed a perimeter around it. However, they had been thoroughly shaken by the Daoist’s words, and not a single one released an arrow. Instead, they all turned their eyes toward the white-robed monk in the center.

Seeing that the monk merely pressed his palms together and lowered his head in silent contemplation, the warriors slowly lowered their bows.

The spirit beast bounded gracefully into the distance, its movements light and elegant. With each leap, it soared high, resembling a carefree sprite in the vast and open world.

Before long, it had become a mere speck on the horizon, its kicking hooves no longer raising visible dust.

“This way, please...” Master Xuanhua turned to Song You and gestured forward.

“Alright.” Song You leaned on his staff and followed them, walking alongside the group.

As he walked, he glanced at the swallow with a smile. “Your courage has grown.”

“I—I was just thinking that it led us to water, yet we hadn't repaid it in any way...”

“That is good enough.”

Song You nodded approvingly, then turned his gaze toward Master Xuanhua. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he pursed his lips before asking, “Master, you must have already considered the possibility that the drought had nothing to do with it, haven’t you?”

“A monk practices compassion and should not bring unnecessary slaughter upon the world. This is a matter of my own cultivation, so of course, I had to give it careful thought,” Xuanhua replied, pressing his hands together in a respectful gesture. His tone was equally sincere.

He added, “However, the prefect came to me in search of aid, and the suffering of millions in Longzhou and Shazhou was at stake. Compared to that, my personal cultivation means very little.”

“I see.” Song You did not comment further. Instead, he simply led his horse forward.

Many of the warriors around them were quietly observing him.

***

After traversing the yellow-earth desert, Song You arrived at the base of a loess mountain and at the foot of Xuanbi Temple.

But when he looked up, his eyes widened in surprise.

The mountain before him was like the many loess mountains of the region—grand and imposing. Though it was not slender or towering into the clouds, one might assume at first glance that it would be an easy climb. In reality, however, all four sides were nearly vertical cliffs. The only difference was that instead of a sharp peak, the summit was a vast sloping plateau.

Yet Xuanbi Temple was not built on the mountain’s peak. Instead, it was constructed on the sheer cliff face itself.

Raising his head, Song You could see many structures on the cliff, their red wooden pillars and blue-tiled roofs standing out against the rock. The windows were lattice-like, the railings painted a deep blue. However, each building had only one visible facade—one roofed eave, one carved window, a few red pillars, and a single balcony railing.

This meant that these structures were not complete buildings standing on the cliff but cave dwellings carved directly into the rock face.

Together, these cliffside structures and caverns formed Xuanbi Temple.

They were not clustered together but rather scattered across the entire cliff face, each at different heights and distances.

The lower ones were still dozens of zhang above the ground, while the highest ones were near the very top of the cliff. Some were closely spaced, just a few zhang apart, while others were positioned at opposite corners of the cliff face.

The structures were connected by wooden walkways hanging from the cliff and stone tunnels carved into the rock.

As Song You gazed upon the sight, he felt as if he had stepped into a mythological tale. The contrast between the earthy yellow cliffs and the vast blue sky gave the entire scene an overwhelming sense of ancient grandeur and historical weight.

“Please, this way.” Master Xuanhua gestured for him to proceed.

“...”

Song You lowered his head slightly, then stepped onto the wooden corridor leading upward.

The structure was a stairway built directly onto the cliffside.

Exposed to the elements for who knew how many years, it was far older and more weathered than the wooden staircases of the tall pavilions in Changjing, its planks nearly bleached white from time.

Yet despite its appearance, it was incredibly sturdy beneath his feet.

As he continued climbing, the wooden stairway gradually disappeared, replaced by stone-carved tunnels within the mountain itself.

Master Xuanhua led the way at the front, guiding Song You from the wooden plank stairway into the stone-carved tunnels within the mountain. Some passages appeared naturally formed, while others bore clear signs of human craftsmanship.

Most of them were narrow, with both corridors and stairways entirely enclosed within the mountain. Only a few scattered openings allowed sunlight to filter in, casting warm light over the loess cave walls.

Occasionally, beams of light streamed down from above. Though the air was generally clear, whenever dust stirred within the tunnels, the light beams became visible, their shapes forming bright, scattered rays that illuminated the space in a dazzling display.

At times, they emerged from the tunnels back onto the wooden walkways suspended along the cliff face. Each time they did, it became clear that they had climbed even higher.

The air gradually filled with the scent of burning incense.

Faintly, the sound of sutra chanting could be heard echoing through the mountains.

As they walked, Song You took in the surroundings with admiration and finally asked, “How many years has this temple stood?”

“Over two hundred years.”

“Why was it built on the cliffside?”

“This is quite common in this region. I have heard that Changjing also has a tradition of carving caves into mountains, but this practice is most prominent in the northwest.” Master Xuanhua explained as he continued walking forward.

He continued, “People in the northwest have a deep fondness for carving caves into mountains to enshrine deities. We have merely repurposed the caves dedicated to the Buddha and Bodhisattvas as temples for cultivation and practice.”

“Incredible,” Song You couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

This journey had already broadened his horizons.

Visit freewe𝑏n(o)v𝒆l.𝑐𝘰𝑚 for the best novel reading experience