Unintended Immortality-Chapter 540: You’re Truly Shameless

“This fire is truly extraordinary...”

After taking in the vast expanse of the Gobi Desert, Song You finally turned his gaze to the flames roaring at the mountain’s crater behind him.

As someone well-versed in fire techniques, he could instantly tell that even the flames at the mountain’s mouth were anything but ordinary. They were among the rare few that surpassed even the spiritual fire he meticulously cultivated.

“Hahahahaha!”

Flaming Sun True Lord erupted into hearty laughter, as bold and unrestrained as ever. He neither concealed his pride nor feigned humility, declaring outright, “This fire was born a thousand years ago during the longest seclusion of my life. It was an upheaval of the earth itself, triggered by my cultivation. Even after a thousand years, the flames have never died out.

“Instead, they have only grown stronger as the spiritual energy I gathered in my training continues to nourish them. Forget ordinary spirits and ghosts—even if the Gold Spirit Official from the Heavenly Palace’s War Division dared to step into this crater, his golden body would be reduced to molten gold!”

“You’re truly worthy of the title Fire God.”

Song You cupped his hands in respect but said no more. Without further delay, he turned and began his descent from the mountain.

His jujube-red horse followed him unwaveringly.

The calico cat hurried after them as well, but as she walked, she kept glancing back at the bearded, red-robed Fire God with a serious expression.

“That person seems really powerful!”

“He is an Ancient Great Being. Naturally, he is strong.”

“What’s an Ancient Great Being?”

“As in the cultivators from the same era as my temple's founding patriarch—beings whose cultivation could reach the heavens and overturn the earth. They are truly remarkable beings,” Song You explained patiently as they walked.

“Not even Gold Spirit Official, Duke of Thunder Zhou, the fox, the marsh dragons, nor that northern willow tree or old Swallow Immortal of Anqing are as powerful as he is. For the fox to match him, she would need to fully cultivate her nine tails. For the willow tree to stand on equal footing, it would have to achieve its wish.”

“What about the Snake Immortal? Is he as strong as him?”

“No.”

“What about the Mountain God?”

“I don't know if there is a mountain deity anywhere strong enough, but beyond its own mountains, certainly not.”

“That powerful?!” The calico cat seemed utterly astounded. “Then who is stronger than him?”

“There may be a few hidden deities in the Heavenly Palace who are just as powerful or even stronger,” Song You said. “I've heard that the Heavenly Palace has secret techniques for gathering incense power—meaning they can concentrate the divine power from all their deities into a single warrior. When bestowed upon a formidable general, it makes them incredibly strong. Perhaps that is why he chose to remain here.”

“Then between you and him, who is stronger?”

“Me?” The Daoist smiled slightly and replied as they continued walking, “The laws of the universe are infinitely profound. Everything has a counterpart, strengths and weaknesses, and countermeasures against all. It is difficult to say definitively which is superior. Besides, he is a senior, while I am but a junior. I would not dare claim to be stronger than him.”

“I don't understand...”

“I'm just as strong as he is.”

“...”

Hearing this, the calico cat's expression grew even more serious. She quickened her small steps, moving ahead of the Daoist and turning to look at him closely, scrutinizing his face as if deep in thought.

After a long silence, she finally said, “You...”

But in the end, the Daoist had never taught her how to finish such a sentence. Lacking the right words, she pondered for a long time yet couldn't find the proper way to describe him.

So she simply turned her head away, flicked her tail, and scampered down the mountain.

***

After descending the mountain, the Daoist continued westward.

After walking ten li, the flames were no longer visible. After fifty li, abandoned houses and empty residences began appearing along the roadside. After a hundred li, there were signs of human presence.

A road emerged in the vast Gobi Desert, its surface etched with deep wagon tracks. The soil beneath their feet had been packed firm from constant use.

Gradually, more people appeared.

There were both travelers and pedestrians.

But the majority resembled refugees—people displaced by hardship. Their hair was dry and disheveled, their lips and cheeks cracked from the relentless heat. They shuffled forward like lifeless husks, and from time to time, one would collapse on the road.

Initially, Song You had been heading west, following the direction given by the Fire God. This road veered slightly off course. However, he still chose to walk along it, mingling with these people, experiencing firsthand the decay and death lingering around them—yet also sensing the unwavering desire for life burning within them.

It left a deep impression on him.

These people were fleeing. They were fleeing from the endless drought that had plagued this land for thousands of li.

As he walked, the number of people grew. Whether merchants, travelers, or refugees, they all seemed to converge upon this place.

Finally, a settlement appeared in the distance.

A village stood on the barren Gobi, its houses made of wood. The planks used in construction had been weathered by wind and sand, their color faded, giving the settlement an aged, desolate look. It blended naturally into the arid landscape.

Yet, the village felt eerily quiet, as though very few people still lived there.

Many travelers passed by in silence, their faces blank. Some turned their heads to glance at the tightly shut wooden houses. A few even stepped forward to knock on the doors.

Song You had traveled many roads before, but this one was unlike any he had walked.

The scenery beside the path, the blazing sun overhead, the torment of the journey, and the people struggling around him—everything felt different.

“Bang, bang, bang...”

Suddenly, the sound of knocking broke through the stillness.

Most people ignored it entirely. They walked forward with their heads bowed, as if merely lifting their feet exhausted all the strength they had left. Few even had the energy to glance up.

Only the Daoist stopped. He turned toward the source of the knocking.

It was a merchant, a man with the features of someone from the Central Plains. He clutched a pouch of money in one hand while knocking insistently on a door, calling out in desperation.

From within, there was indeed a response. The voices inside spoke the local language.

Song You couldn't fully understand the words, but he could hear the anxiety in the merchant’s voice and the weakness in the replies from inside. freeweɓnøvel~com

He understood the situation well enough. The merchant wanted to trade money for water, and he was offering a considerable sum.

But the people inside refused to open the door.

“Sigh...”

The merchant let out a long sigh. But as soon as he exhaled, he immediately clamped his mouth shut, as if afraid that even one more breath would cause his body to lose more precious moisture.

With a weary turn, he prepared to continue walking forward, but his legs were weak. His steps faltered, and he nearly collapsed onto the ground.

“Slow down,” Song You reminded him and took out a water pouch. “I still have a little water left. I can spare you a sip.”

“Truly?” The merchant finally spoke, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

“Truly.”

“How much for one sip?”

“I don’t want your money.”

“For real?”

“Take it.” Song You handed him the water pouch.

The merchant accepted it without hesitation, immediately pulling out the wooden stopper. He tilted his head back, mouth open wide, about to gulp down a large mouthful.

But after a brief hesitation, he changed his mind. Instead, he took a small sip.

Then, he returned the pouch to Song You.

“Many thanks, sir. But the drought here is severe, and water is extremely scarce. You should conserve what you have. Don’t go around giving it away so easily.”

“I have cultivation to sustain me. I won’t die of thirst.”

“Sigh...”

“Were you trying to ask for water from that house just now?”

“I wanted to buy some,” the merchant admitted. His voice was steadier now, whether from the sip of water or the gratitude he felt for Song You’s kindness. “This place used to be more populated. I used to buy water from them every year.”

Then, shaking his head, he continued, “But ever since last spring, the drought has been relentless. Not a single drop of rain has fallen. Even umbrellas have started rotting away from disuse. They barely have enough water for themselves. Most of the people here have either moved away... or died from thirst.”

The single sip of water had barely eased his suffering. He spoke carefully, controlling both his voice and his breath to avoid losing more moisture. Yet, despite his restraint, his gaze couldn't help but flicker toward Song You’s water pouch.

“Take another sip.”

“How could I...”

“Your one sip was too little.” As Song You spoke, he handed the water pouch to him again.

At the same time, he asked, “Are all these people on the road fleeing from here?”

“What else could they do?”

The merchant gulped down another mouthful of water, careful not to spill even a single drop.

Only then did he reply, “The Western Regions have long been plagued by drought, but life here was still bearable. People thought last year’s drought was just temporary, that things would improve this year. But spring has come and gone, and still, not a single drop of rain has fallen. Many have finally given up. They can’t endure it any longer. So they have no choice but to flee.”

“Where is everyone going?”

“Some are heading further west—toward the Jiangnan beyond the frontier[1]. Others are going north. Wherever there is no drought, that’s where they go,” the merchant replied.

“This is the former territory of River City, the protectorate of Xizhou. Ahead lies the renowned Mount Huayan. There’s a crossroads there. The entire southern Western Regions only has a few major roads, and anyone traveling far must pass through that point. That’s why so many people have gathered here.”

“I see.” Song You was already familiar with some of Great Yan’s geography.

In the past, the Great Yan empire had established the administrative center of the Xizhou protectorate here, naming it River City. But as Great Yan’s control over the Western Regions grew stronger and deeper, the administrative center had gradually been relocated further west.

“This water...”

“You may have another drink. Just leave some for my cat and swallow,” Song You said. “Once it’s finished, we can always find more. No matter how severe the drought, the Gobi still holds hidden oases and water sources.”

“Then I’ll take another sip.”

The merchant tilted his head back again, pouring a small amount of water into his mouth. He swallowed it in several careful sips before handing the pouch back to Song You.

Then, the two silently continued forward together.

The once-thriving Silk Road of the Western Regions had attracted many bold merchants. Not all were part of large trade caravans—many traveled alone or in small groups, perhaps on their way to forming future caravans.

This particular merchant was originally from Longzhou. He had studied as a youth but failed the imperial exams repeatedly. His family had accumulated debts, and after experiencing personal misfortune, he took the risk of becoming a traveling merchant.

This was a golden road—one journey could yield immense wealth.

The harsher the drought, the more treacherous the path became, and the fewer people there were to pick up gold from the ground alongside you.

But it also meant the chances of losing one’s life were much greater.

As they traveled further, the crowd grew denser.

Song You had not taken a sip of water. Nor did he use his magical or spiritual power to replenish himself. In fact, he deliberately suppressed his body’s natural resilience, choosing instead to fully experience what it was like to walk under a sun hotter than his own body temperature, with no water to drink.

Even when Lady Calico urged him to drink, he refused. To him, it was an intriguing experience. To the people around him, it was a matter of survival.

With every step forward, the loss of moisture accelerated. His lips became dry, and his mind grew sluggish. His throat burned with thirst as his desire for water reached its peak.

But in the end, he was not an ordinary person.

No matter how much he tried, he could never fully grasp what the refugees around him were feeling.

Perhaps he could experience only a fraction of it.

And with that fraction, he could glimpse a small part of their suffering, using it as a clue to imagine the full picture to ponder the true extent of the torment that drought had inflicted upon these people.

Just then, he finally arrived at the renowned Mount Huayan the merchant had spoken of.

Before him stood a towering vertical rock face.

The layers of stone were distinctly stratified, each bearing different colors, like a massive wall of the heavens.

At the base of the rock, three paths branched in different directions.

At their intersection, makeshift shelters and simple wooden huts had been set up. Many travelers passed through this place, stopping to rest. Most remained silent, while a few exchanged words about the drought in different regions, sharing information about where water could still be found.

And many... simply collapsed here and never got up again.

“...”

Song You sat down among them.

The moment he did, he felt an overwhelming weariness—a reluctance to move any further.

1. This is referring to Mount Tian mentioned in Chapter 536. ☜

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