Unintended Immortality-Chapter 571: I Shouldn’t Have Woken You Up

“Gasp—!”

Merchant Xie couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath.

Merchants, by nature, slept lightly, always worried that something might happen to their goods. The sudden sound quieted the scattered voices in the room. Some opened their eyes slightly and sat up, looking over to see Merchant Xie leaning against the wall, eyes wide in surprise. His startled expression gave them a bit of a shock.

“What’s wrong?” A voice rang out, waking even more people.

In an instant, all the merchants in the room were awake.

Familiar with Song You, Merchant Xie finally asked, “Did any of you hear someone speaking just now?”

“What speaking?”

“Who was talking to who?”

“There wasn’t any talking. If someone had been talking, we’d have all woken up.”

“Yeah, I haven’t even fallen asleep yet.”

“What kind of voice did you hear?”

“Are we missing any goods?”

“Maybe you just dozed off and dreamed it!”

The room erupted with chatter. Some merchants discussed it, others grumbled, and a few got up to check their cargo.

“I suppose I might have dozed off—maybe I really was dreaming,” said Merchant Xie, frowning. With his usual temperament, he wasn’t the type to fall asleep while on watch. “But I dreamed of that Mr. Song. His figure was blurry, but he came here—right here—and stood right in front of me, next to this table, and talked to me for quite a while.”

“Huh...”

“What?”

Some merchants were surprised, some intrigued, and others found it a little unsettling. They all glanced toward the table with the oil lamp. Those who had been checking the cargo quickly moved a few steps away from it.

“It wasn’t anything much,” Merchant Xie continued, “He just said a few things, and after he finished, he left. Only then did I realize—I might’ve fallen asleep.”

He frowned deeper, suddenly sensing something was off. “Now that I think about it, it’s strange. That gentleman not only appeared here, but came in completely silently. I wasn’t afraid, or even surprised. It just felt natural to talk to him. And none of you woke up. Thinking about it now, it must’ve been a dream. Whether it was just an ordinary dream or a message from him, I really can’t say.”

“What did you two talk about in the dream?”

“That gentleman said...”

Merchant Xie briefly recounted the contents of the dream. Strangely enough, though he couldn’t see the gentleman’s face clearly in the dream, he remembered every word of their conversation with perfect clarity.

Everyone who listened found it strange and fascinating.

Any sense of unease or chill in their hearts completely vanished.

That was because when Merchant Xie first began describing it—dreaming in the middle of the night, seeing a blurry figure and speaking with it—it naturally gave off a sense of ghostly visitations or hauntings, which made everyone feel a bit spooked. But once he finished the story, they realized there was nothing frightening about it at all. On the contrary, it felt more like a divine message in a dream.

“Treasure?”

“Is that for real?”

“Can we believe it?”

“Is that Daoist some kind of immortal?”

“Could it be the work of a demon or ghost instead?”

Everyone was now wide awake, talking all at once.

“...”

Only Merchant Xie remained seated on the bed. He reached into his robe and held onto a charm marked with a square and triangle, frowning in thought. After a long while, he finally spoke, “What do you all think?”

“No idea if it’s real or not...”

“Well, the forest is just twenty li from here. Whether it’s truly a dream sent by Mr. Song or a trick by demons or spirits, we’ll prepare some sticks and poles in the morning and go have a look for ourselves.”

“We’ll follow your lead.”

“Then it’s decided...”

“What else did you talk about in the dream?”

“Mr. Song also asked me about that snow-covered mountain to the southeast. From the way he spoke and the things he said, it really sounded just like him—which is why I don’t think it was the work of any spirit or demon,” Merchant Xie said, then paused. “Oh, and before he left, he even asked me to teach him a few phrases in the Western Regions’ language. That made it feel all the more real.”

“What did he say?”

“That... I don’t quite remember.”

“...”

The oil lamp dimmed a little, but no one in the room felt like sleeping.

The next morning, the merchants, filled with uncertainty, set out.

Heading twenty li north over the mountains, sure enough, they found a wolf waiting for them. It immediately took the lead, guiding them on the path ahead.

***

After a full day and night, Lady Calico finally retrieved her Water-Splitting Blade and small flag, and didn’t dare put them back into the brocade pouch again. Instead, she respectfully returned them to her own pouch.

From that point on, the brocade pouch was reserved for large sums of silver, the travel notes she and the Daoist had written, Doctor Cai’s medical texts, paintings, brushes, ink, paper, winter clothing, and other things not needed on hand. If nothing else, it certainly lightened the load for the jujube-red horse—the once bulging pouch was now noticeably smaller.

It had taken them two days to reach the mountain, and it would take two days to return.

The time spent fighting didn’t count.

The Daoist returned once again to the Jade City chema inn.

No sooner had he stepped into the courtyard than he ran into the innkeeper.

“Sir, you’re back?” the innkeeper greeted him in heavily accented Western dialect, his attitude very respectful. “Your clothes are with me—I’ll go fetch them for you shortly.”

“Clothes?”

“The palace maid washed them for you. She was worried you might not return in time to change, so after drying them, she brought them to me for safekeeping, and told me to remember to give them to you,” the innkeeper explained, then added, “She came again yesterday, but since you hadn’t returned, she left. She hasn’t come today yet—though I expect she’ll arrive soon.”

“Thank you, innkeeper.”

“No need to thank me.”

The innkeeper chuckled and even waved playfully at Lady Calico, who was standing behind Song You, as if teasing a child.

Little did he know that this very “child” had just finished clearing out a mountain full of demons a couple days ago.

Once Song You received his freshly laundered clothes, he returned to his room. The first thing he did was ask the innkeeper to boil hot water. After taking a bath, he changed into clean, soft clothes and immediately felt all the exhaustion of travel melt away. Stretching as he walked, his pores seemed to breathe, and his joints loosened with every movement.

Then he flopped down on the bed, letting time pass without a single thought.

Lady Calico, however, was diligent as ever. As soon as they returned to the room, she took out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone from the brocade pouch and immediately began writing down the events of the past few days—so she wouldn’t have to stay up late writing them together with the Daoist.

She began with the roasted mouse meat flatbread. That had been the rations Lady Calico prepared the night before the journey began.

Unfortunately, most of it got burnt—so they only ate it for one day.

Then came the great battle with the demons. She used simple brush and ink to exaggerate her own heroism. After that came countless magical tools and mountains of treasure. But sadly, the Daoist said all of it had been stolen, and told her not to be greedy.

In the end, they threw all the magical tools deep into the forest, scattering them, and didn’t take any of the rare treasures either. Such a pity, such a pity... Lady Calico had to catch so many mice and fish just to earn money like that.

And then there was her Daoist priest...

So powerful! Unmatched under heaven!

As she wrote, Lady Calico couldn’t help glancing at the Daoist. His breathing was calm and steady—he seemed to be asleep already.

This peaceful moment made the fierce mountain battles from a couple of days ago feel almost unreal.

This is good...

Lady Calico thought to herself silently, but her hand didn’t stop as she continued writing out tiny, neat characters.

While you’re asleep, I’ll finish writing the travel journal first, so you won’t sneak a peek at it tonight. Once you start writing yours later, I’ll hop onto the table and play, and steal a glance while you write.

The little girl wrote with extra care.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Knock knock...”

Two faint taps—so soft they were barely audible.

“...”

It was that woman—the one who washed clothes. Lady Calico didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

Though the visitor was just a palace maid, and though the Daoist had shown her kindness, Lady Calico didn’t dare be disrespectful. She quickly set her brush down, stood up with a serious expression, grabbed the Daoist’s dirty laundry, and went to open the door.

Sure enough, standing outside was the maid.

The maid didn’t speak the language and stood silently with her head lowered.

Lady Calico, wearing a solemn expression, also said nothing. She simply reached out and handed the Daoist’s clothes to the maid, then turned to go back inside.

But just as she turned, a thought struck her, and a conflicted look immediately appeared on her face.

At last, she spoke up. “Wait a moment!”

The maid, who had also just turned to leave, halted her steps.

Even though she didn’t understand what the little girl said, she could tell from the tone that it was meant for her. So she turned back to look.

Lady Calico darted like the wind into the inner part of the room.

A moment later, the Daoist awoke.

“Thank you, Lady Calico.”

The Daoist rubbed his eyes—he’d slept well. He gave the little girl a gentle pat on the head, then took the silver jug and wine cup from her hands before heading to the door.

The maid stood there, holding the clothes, head still bowed in silence.

“Thank you,” Song You said—this time in the Western dialect.

But that was the only sentence he could manage.

Then he took out the silver jug and wine cup and handed them to her.

When the maid saw them, her eyes immediately widened in surprise.

Westerners already had deep-set features—her large, expressive eyes now brimmed with astonishment.

“These were the silver jug and wine cup stolen from the palace by demons. I’ve heard the king has restored your freedom, but since these were lost from your hands, please take them back to the king yourself,” Song You said.

The maid seemed not to understand—or perhaps she did.

Still holding the Daoist’s clothing, she extended her other hand to receive the pot and cup. She froze for a moment, then quickly bowed low in respect. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, simply staring at him, speechless.

“Go on now.” The Daoist waved his hand gently.

The maid bowed once more, then finally turned and left.

“...”

What a kind and simple soul.

Song You withdrew his gaze. Stretching lazily again, he walked back into the room—only to see his little companion sitting cross-legged on a cloth rug, hunched over the table, scribbling away with intense focus. Her diligence was so adorable that he couldn’t help but smile.

“Lady Calico, you’re working so hard.”

“That’s right!” she replied proudly.

“I should be writing the travel journal too. How about I write it with you?” The Daoist spoke while stepping toward the table.

“...!”

But the little girl immediately grew alert. She lifted her head at once and stared at him without blinking.

One hand had already covered what she was writing.

“You should go back to sleep!”

“I’m already awake.”

“You were woken up!”

“But I’ve had enough sleep.”

“Go sleep some more!”

“If I sleep again now, I won’t be able to fall asleep tonight.”

As he spoke, the Daoist had already taken a seat on the opposite side of the table. He spread out a sheet of paper and picked up a brush.

Lady Calico still wore a stern expression, eyes locked on him. In her heart... she was feeling just a little regretful.