Unintended Immortality-Chapter 585: It Had Long Since Changed

The two of them conversed for who knows how long before finally parting in satisfaction.

“My father spent his whole life telling stories. Those tales of fantasy and the supernatural, and the strange wonders of the world, he told them so many times, yet had only seen a handful for himself.”

Old Mr. Zhang sighed with some regret, “As storytellers, the more we talk, the more we wonder if the stories are true. We long to meet the characters we speak of, to visit the places we describe. But few of us ever get the chance. If my father were still alive and standing here today, able to have such a conversation with you, sir, I imagine he would be deeply comforted.”

“I was indeed gone for far too long,” Song You said softly.

“Indeed...”

Old Mr. Zhang thought about himself. He didn’t know how many years he had left, and looking at the man before him, he couldn’t help but sigh, “How many people can truly live as long as the immortals?”

Song You only shook his head, saying nothing. Then he raised a hand and gave Old Mr. Zhang a respectful bow. “Mr. Zhang...”

Old Mr. Zhang immediately understood and returned the salute with equal courtesy. “Take care on your journey, sir...”

“Mr. Zhang, your skill and presence are no lesser than your father’s,” Song You said sincerely. “I only hope that seven years from now, when I return, I may once again hear you tell a story.”

“You flatter me, sir.”

The Cloud Talk Canopy was now empty. The other entertainment stalls in the north wazi remained lively, with bursts of opera and singing drifting over from time to time, echoing through the dim tent.

But the sounds didn’t disturb this quiet corner; instead, they only made the stillness here feel deeper, broken only by the farewell of the two men bowing to each other. Beside the Daoist, the young girl mimicked him with a proper bow.

Then the Daoist turned and walked away. The girl followed without hesitation, though as she walked, she kept glancing back, taking in the Cloud Talk Canopy she’d only visited a handful of times. Meanwhile, the elderly man was standing quietly in the dim light, watching them leave.

Perhaps it was because she hadn’t come here often enough to be familiar with it. She wasn’t particularly attached to the place, nor to the old storyteller whose tales she barely understood back then. And since she wasn’t familiar with him, the little cat didn’t feel much nostalgia for returning to an old haunt, nor did she comprehend the sorrow of finding someone from the past already gone.

But walking alongside the Daoist, listening to his conversation with the old man and his wistful sighs over someone he’d once known who had quietly passed away years ago, while the tent itself remained almost unchanged, stirred a strange, indescribable feeling in her.

She had always been good at sensing the Daoist’s emotions. And though he looked calm now, with steady steps and an impassive face, she could clearly sense the quiet emotion behind it all.

So she walked beside him, glancing up at him frequently, her eyes wide and curious.

“Daoist priest,” Lady Calico asked seriously, her little face solemn, “will we really come back seven years from now?”

“As long as we’re still alive,” Song You replied, “of course we will.”

“Will that old man still be here then?”

“...”

The Daoist was silent for a moment before shaking his head. “Only the heavens know.”

The previous Old Mr. Zhang had stepped down twelve years ago. In this day and age, people often had children early. This current Old Mr. Zhang could be decades younger than his father had been, but already looked like he was in his fifties or sixties. In seven more years, he might well be older than the elder Zhang had been when he gave up storytelling altogether.

And besides, who could say what would happen in the world?

“...”

Song You shook his head and continued walking, never breaking stride.

Sounds of opera, music, and cheers continued to ring out all around them, painting a picture of the lively atmosphere. It was almost exactly as it had been thirteen years ago. The noise reached their ears clearly, then gradually faded into the distance.

The two of them slowly walked out of north wazi.

The little girl kept turning her head to stare at him, as if trying to read the feelings hidden behind his calm expression. But she was destined not to understand.

Maybe in a few more years, or maybe the next time they returned to Yizhou back to Yin-Yang Mountain, when the old friends they’d met over the past twenty years came to visit, and she saw those familiar faces all changed by time, and then, after a few more years, watched them gradually fade away... perhaps then she would truly understand.

“Where are we going now?” she asked.

“Right now...” The Daoist paused at her question and looked around.

The little girl didn’t stop walking and ended up a few steps ahead of him. When she noticed, she retraced her steps exactly, returning to his side and continuing to gaze up at him.

“It’s still early. If I recall, Taian Temple isn’t far from here. Let’s go to that old place and burn a stick of incense.”

“Alright!” The young girl nodded with a very serious face.

“I remember there were some fly restaurants near Taian Temple. After we burn the incense, we can grab a bite to eat before heading back. The inn we’re staying at doesn't let us cook.”

“Fly restaurant[1]! The swallow will like that!”

“...”

The Daoist had already started walking.

Earlier, it had been dim inside the Cloud Talk Canopy because of its covered roof and closed structure, which were meant to create atmosphere and shield from the winter wind. But in truth, it was still only mid-afternoon, and the sun outside was blazing hot.

“Fly restaurants” referred to small street-side eateries, not that they served flies, nor that there necessarily were any. But it was the height of summer, and even high-end restaurants couldn’t entirely avoid flies, let alone those little roadside places. So Song You didn’t bother explaining further.

The summer sun was scorching. These days, cities rarely prioritized greenery, and even that big tree in Tianshui Alley was considered a rarity. It wasn’t even possible to stick to the shade while walking.

Song You soon broke out in a sweat. He had to stop in every bit of shade to cool off. Meanwhile, Lady Calico, carrying both a shoulder satchel and a silk pouch, was quite at ease.

The crystal vial in her pouch released only a trace of chill, which was barely noticeable in terms of volume, but it was enough to make the interior of the pouch icy cold like a snowfield. The pouch itself felt cool to the touch, bringing her a refreshing chill. Eventually, she simply hugged the pouch to her chest, allowing her to keep her fair complexion and serious expression perfectly intact.

Before long, the two of them arrived at Taian Temple. Just like before, even before stepping through the gates, they could smell the thick scent of incense smoke.

The Daoist’s expression remained calm as he stepped past the mountain gate. Meanwhile, the young girl mirrored his calm expression and composed movements.

Mid-afternoon was the slowest time of day, and under the scorching sun, there weren’t many worshippers at the temple. A few sat resting in shaded spots, fanning themselves and chatting. Most were older women or elderly folks, with a few monks among them, answering their questions and engaging in quiet conversation.

It was easy to see that the incense offerings at Taian Temple were still flourishing, more so than ever before. The giant censer in the courtyard was stuffed full of incense sticks, most likely placed there in the morning. Now, only the bamboo stems remained, all burnt to the end.

Under the bright sunlight, the two towering stone guardian statues flanking the courtyard, one holding a whip, the other a spear, looked particularly fierce and imposing as they cast broad shadows across the ground. Inside the surrounding halls, massive statues of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas still gleamed with golden brilliance.

“The incense here is still thriving,” Song You remarked. Then, the Daoist smiled softly and sighed with emotion.

“Yes, it is,” the young girl echoed at his side.

The Daoist looked around, and so did the little girl. But unlike before, this time she showed no trace of the cautiousness or nervous fear she once had.

Even as they passed through the courtyard, walking beneath the towering, fierce guardian statues that glared down with threatening poses, and even when she was fully engulfed by their looming shadows and looked up at them, she simply felt that, even if these statues could move, they still wouldn’t be as tall as the mountain god she could now summon.

And even upon entering the main hall, where grand statues of gleaming gods and Buddhas stood in golden splendor, she merely found them ordinary. To her, they were just ghosts who’d landed a high-ranking title, nothing more.

Just then, a monk approached to receive them, likely having taken special note of the Daoist’s robe.

When he learned that the Daoist no longer had acquaintances here, and had come neither to visit friends nor seek audience, but merely to offer incense and see the place again, he gave him a few sticks of incense as a gesture before departing.

“Here are six sticks. Three for you, three for me.”

The Daoist split the incense in half, keeping three for himself and handing the other three to the girl beside him.

Lady Calico accepted them reflexively but then asked, “Can demons offer incense to the Bodhisattva?”

“As long as your heart is kind and sincere, of course you can,” the Daoist replied with a smile. “Lady Calico, you can even offer incense to the Thunder God. And you can make a wish while you’re at it.”

“Make a wish?” Lady Calico tilted her head slightly, her expression solemn.

“It means you say something you want to do or something you wish for, just like how the villagers on Jinyang Road used to make wishes to you, Lady Calico.”

“Will it come true?”

“Well, that depends on how hard you work for it.”

“But when the villagers made wishes to me, I would go out that very night and catch all the rats for them.”

“But do they have the same diligence and ability as you?”

“Hmm...” Lady Calico froze for a moment, turned to glance at him, then looked at the large Buddha statue on the altar, and warned cautiously, “Don’t let them hear you!”

“...” The Daoist merely smiled and began lighting the incense.

The little girl quickly followed suit, lighting and offering hers just like him.

But while the Daoist simply placed the incense and withdrew his hands, the girl did so with the utmost seriousness. After placing the incense upright, she closed her eyes in solemn thought for a moment before finally opening them again.

A demon bowed to the Buddha, and a minor god made a wish to a great god.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay!”

The two of them exited the temple hall together once again, where another monk came to see them off.

The Daoist glanced at the little girl beside him and couldn’t help but smile. Many memories surfaced in his mind, forming a strange and nostalgic feeling. “Lady Calico, do you still remember what it was like the first time you came here with me thirteen years ago?”

“I don't remember.”

“Taian Temple’s vegetarian meals are quite famous.”

“Don’t remember that either.”

“Maybe the Lady Calico back then feels a bit unfamiliar even to the current you,” the Daoist said calmly.

But how could he not feel the same? Not just the girl, even the person he was when he first descended the mountain had become distant from who he was now. Thirteen years had brought many changes.

The one thing that had changed the least... was his face.

“Take care, Daoist Master.”

“Please, Master, no need to see us off.”

The Daoist returned the monk’s courtesy, then finally left the temple grounds.

But the young monk who had escorted them stood at the gate, watching their departing figures with a frown. Just moments ago, he had overheard the Daoist’s conversation with the child, and they kept mentioning “thirteen years ago.” Yet the Daoist looked at most in his twenties, and the little girl was small and young, seemingly no more than ten. Just where had they stolen those years from?

It wasn’t until he returned to his room and casually mentioned the strange encounter to his master that the elderly monk’s memory was stirred.

Every monk at Taian Temple remembered it clearly; thirteen years ago, a Daoist had come to the temple and spoken at length with Master Guanghong. And that very same day, the most revered monk in the temple, widely acknowledged as having the deepest Buddhist insight and highest cultivation, had immolated himself before the statue of the Buddha.

1. A “苍蝇馆子” (cāngying guǎnzi) is a colloquial Chinese term that literally means "fly restaurant" or "fly-infested eatery." But don’t be misled by the name — it's not necessarily derogatory. A 苍蝇馆子 refers to a small, cheap, often shabby-looking local eatery — typically very informal, often family-run, with basic décor and minimal hygiene standards. The name comes from the idea that such places are so modest (and sometimes grimy) that they might even attract flies. ☜