Unintended Immortality

The heavy snow had blanketed everything in white. A Daoist and a swordsman, two horses, and a single cat left a trail of footprints stretching northward.

They continued their journey, pausing from time to time to distribute spiritual energy, dispelling the demonic sorcery along the way.

Occasionally, they encountered other travelers.

Doctor Cai was not the only physician who had come to Gui Commandery, nor was Song You the only cultivator. Amidst the swirling snow, there were always those who braved the storm, moving against the flow.

But the heavy snowfall slowed their progress.

Song You had originally planned to reach Hansu—Gui Commandery’s northernmost and closest region to the Snowy Plains—in three days. However, by the third night, they still had not arrived.

The terrain here was flat, and with no villages nearby to take shelter in, there wasn’t even a spot to shield them from the wind.

As the sky gradually darkened, Song You sighed in resignation and decided to use a spell. He raised a mound of earth, forming a simple windbreak.

Lady Calico transformed into her human form and skillfully gathered a large pile of firewood, lighting a bonfire.

In the cold wilderness of the night, a small fire brought a touch of warmth.

Song You spread out a woolen mat and sat cross-legged on it, shielding himself from the cold ground. He took out a thin blanket and placed it nearby. Lady Calico also sat beside the Daoist, wrapping herself tightly in the blanket, leaving only her head exposed as she stared at the fire. If the firewood began to run low, she would stretch out a hand from under the blanket and toss another piece into the flames.

The earthen mound blocked the biting wind, the mat kept the chill from the ground at bay, and the bonfire burned brightly, casting a warm glow. The crackling fire reflected in their eyes, bringing a hint of comfort to the cold night.

A metal pot was set over the fire, half filled with ice and snow, along with pieces of broken flatbread. The white snow slowly melted away.

Yet, on this snowy night, a visitor approached.

Lady Calico picked up a stick of firewood and poked it into the bonfire. Though her body barely moved, her head turned almost completely around, staring up at the night sky behind them.

“What’s the matter?” Song You asked, turning to look as well.

The sky had long since gone dark, with neither stars nor moon above. The world was shrouded in pitch blackness, and nothing could be seen.

The little girl continued to gaze in that direction, saying nothing and not turning her head back.

After a while, a faint silhouette became visible in the distance. In the firelight, the silhouette gradually became clearer.

It was a monk, dressed in a yellow monk robe. He was somewhat stout, with his head wrapped in cloth. He walked slowly and steadily along the main road, his hands pressed together in a gesture of prayer.

The monk clearly noticed them as well. He stopped, gave them a few assessing glances to confirm they were human and not demons, and then bowed respectfully, keeping his palms together devoutly.

“Amitabha.”

Song You stood up and returned the gesture, before asking, “Master, why are you traveling so late at night?”

The monk forced a smile onto his weary face and replied respectfully, “I have yet to reach my destination, so I must continue on.”

“It’s so late—can you still see the road clearly?”

“My physical eyes cannot, but my heart’s eye can.”

“Well said—‘the heart’s eye can,’“ Song You remarked, before asking, “May I ask where you are coming from, and where you are headed?”

“I come from the village behind, and I’m making my way to Hansu.”

“It’s late, and the wind and snow are heavy. Hansu is still thirty li away. Even if you reach the city gates, you likely won’t be able to enter at this hour. If you’re not in a hurry, please join us here for a while to shelter from the storm.”

“Aren’t you afraid that I might be carrying the plague?”

“Are you afraid that we might be carrying it, Master?”

“Then it would be rude to refuse!”

The monk exchanged a smile with Song You across the snowy night, pressing his hands together in a gesture of respect before stepping closer.

A Daoist and a monk—both had accents different from the locals of Hezhou. They were heading toward Hansu, the area worst hit by the plague. If they feared the illness, why would they be traveling at night here?

“Thank you, everyone.” The monk found an empty spot by the fire and sat down, introducing himself, “My Dharma name is Yidu. I hail from Angzhou and was ordained at Shengde Temple.”

“I am Song You from Lingquan County in Yizhou. I don’t have a Daoist title yet.”

“Shu Yifan, a jianghu swordsman.”

“I am Lady Calico of the Cat Temple beside Hidden Dragon Temple on Yin-Yang Mountain, in Lingquan County of Yizhou,” the little girl announced, her bright eyes fixed on the monk. She mimicked the Daoist priest’s tone but spoke much longer, and finishing it all in one breath was a bit difficult for her.

“Greetings,” the monk responded with a polite nod, taking an extra moment to look at Lady Calico.

“Lady Calico was originally a deity of the Cat Temple by the roadside in Jinyang of Yizhou. We met by chance and have been traveling together for nearly five years now,” Song You explained to the monk, adding, “We too came from Angzhou, passing through Changjing earlier this year before entering Hezhou.”

“I see,” the monk said.

The monk had a slightly plump, round face, giving him a kindly appearance, though there was a hint of worry and weariness in his expression. “It seems fate has brought us together. Before I came to Hezhou, I stayed for several years as a guest at Tianhai Temple in Changjing.”

“Tianhai Temple?”

“You’ve heard of it?” the monk asked.

“I visited once,” Song You replied with a smile. “Tianhai Temple, and the paper burning incinerator.”

“That tree there is truly remarkable.”

The monk’s face softened into a smile, his eyes reflecting a hint of nostalgia. He looked at Song You with the expression of meeting an old friend and said warmly, “You’ve come from Yizhou, Daoist master. You must be traveling the world. May I ask when you arrived in Changjing, and when you left?”

Song You, feeling no need for formality, warmed his hands by the fire and replied, “I arrived in Changjing around the second month of the fourth year of Mingde and left this January.”

“What an unfortunate coincidence,” the monk said, nodding with his hands pressed together in prayer. “I happened to leave Changjing at the start of the fourth year of Mingde. Before that, I had been residing at Tianhai Temple for five years.”

“What a coincidence.”

“Haha, you’re right,” the monk laughed.

It was much like the encounter with Doctor Cai—they hadn’t met in Changjing but instead crossed paths here in Gui Commandery of Hezhou, thousands of li away. It was hard to say whether it was fate or not. Perhaps their fates hadn’t aligned back then, but now they had.

“What brings you here, Master?” Song You asked.

“As a follower of the Buddha, I have a heart to bring relief to all beings,” the monk replied, pressing his hands together once more. “Though the north is in turmoil, and my abilities are humble, I still wish to offer what little help I can in these troubled times.

“After completing my cultivation at Tianhai Temple, I came to Hezhou. Not long after arriving, I heard of the plague in Gui Commandery, so I made my way here. I’ve heard that Hansu is the most severely affected, so I’m traveling there directly.”

“I see,” Song You nodded in understanding.

Song You nodded.

The cultivators he had encountered recently were mostly the same—both Buddhist monks and Daoists. However, the sorcery within this Demonic Plague stemmed from the great demon king of the Snowy Plains, making it difficult for ordinary cultivators to dispel. As for treating the illness itself, they were even more powerless.

Even Daoists with medical knowledge found themselves at a loss. In all this time, Song You had only met one person who knew a clever technique to transfer the illness away, but even after working tirelessly for two or three days, he could barely manage to cure a single patient.

After a moment of thought, Song You said, “Most of the county towns are now closed off, strictly controlling who goes in and out. Even if you make it to the gates of Hansu, Master, it may be difficult to get inside.”

“I’ll decide what to do when I get there. If I can enter, I’ll go straight to the quarantine ward. If not, I’ll tend to the villages outside the city,” the monk replied.

“Do you have a method for treating the illness?” Song You asked.

“My knowledge is shallow, and my powers are weak. I cannot cure the illness; I can only alleviate the patients’ pain and delay the progression of the disease,” the monk said humbly, clearly embarrassed. “I’m afraid it’s not much, Daoist.”

“I have no cure for the illness either—there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Don’t underestimate the faint glow of a firefly; it still harbors the ambition to light up the night.”

“Indeed,” Song You agreed with a smile.

Song You nodded in agreement and, after a moment of thought, added, “But Master, have you heard of Doctor Cai?”

“His name is well-known. I’ve heard that Doctor Cai is also in Gui Commandery.”

“That’s correct,” Song You replied. “Just two days ago in Lingze, Doctor Cai developed a treatment specifically for the Nine-Day Plague.”

“Is that true?”

“It is.”

“How do you know this, Daoist?”

“We’ve just come from Lingze.”

“That’s wonderful news!” The monk’s face lit up with joy.

Realizing he had shown too much emotion, the monk quickly reined in his smile. He pressed his hands together in prayer, closed his eyes, and silently chanted a verse. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was serene once more.

“In that case, I have even more reason to head to Hansu.”

“I see,” Song You replied.

Song You nodded, understanding the monk’s intent. He exchanged glances with the swordsman and the little girl before saying, “We were also planning to head to Hansu, but the heavy snow made travel difficult, so we decided to stay here overnight. Since that’s the case, perhaps we can journey together tomorrow.”

“That would be an honor,” the monk replied politely.

They were all fellow cultivators, here with the same purpose of helping the sick and saving lives. While it might not feel like meeting an old friend at first sight, there was no need for excessive formalities.

Their meeting and interaction were like water—simple and pure.

The group sat around the fire for warmth. When the snowmelt had cooked the flatbread into a thick porridge, the swordsman ladled it out, serving each person a bowl. They also each received a dried persimmon, a gift from the officials and townsfolk of Lingze County earlier. With some food in their bellies, the warmth spread, and the conversation flowed more easily.

As the night deepened, Song You raised another mound of earth to seal off the last opening against the wind. He asked the monk if he needed an extra blanket, but the monk declined, saying he wasn’t cold.

In truth, anyone who was alive felt the cold. No matter how advanced one’s cultivation, the chill could still be felt.

If one couldn’t feel the cold, one wouldn’t know the true value of warmth or appreciate its comfort. They just wouldn’t be harmed by it, that’s all.

Since the monk insisted, Song You didn’t press the matter. But Lady Calico, well aware of the discomfort cold could bring, stubbornly threw a thin blanket over him. She then clambered over the earthen mound into the freezing night, gathering a good stack of dry firewood and setting it aside.

She even caught a mouse, saving it for breakfast the next morning. Finally, she crawled back into the woolen mat, sharing the blanket with the Daoist, half-dozing and half-daydreaming.

Late into the night, the monk recited his prayers, fingering his prayer beads as he chanted quietly. He continued until midnight, and, worried that the fire might go out, he added wood to it several times.

By early morning, snow had covered them entirely.

The Daoist and the swordsman cooked another batch of porridge, adding dried persimmons, and shared it with the monk. Lady Calico, after politely asking the monk if he wanted any of the mouse, then took a stroll and ate the mouse herself.

They soon set off again. Their traveling party now had one more member.

The snowfall in Hansu had lasted several days, accumulating to a depth of more than a foot. Every step they took left deep footprints in the snow, and the thirty-li journey took them all morning.

It wasn’t because they had slept in and started late. The bitter cold of the north meant that even with the excellent insulation of the wool mats and blankets gifted by Prefect Yu, they were still awakened by the chill before dawn. So they set out early, almost at the break of dawn.

They arrived at the gates of Hansu just around noon. As expected, the city was under lockdown.

However, the guard at the gate only took one glance at the group below and shouted from a distance, “Are you Mr. Song You from Lingze County?”

“Hm?” The monk looked surprised.

Meeting his gaze, Song You first exchanged a few words with the soldier on the city wall before turning back to the monk and explaining, “I was traveling with Doctor Cai earlier. After parting ways, I continued north. It seems the officials and couriers from Lingze County have already sent word about the doctor’s success in treating the plague, and they’ve kindly made things easier for me as well.”

“I see,” the monk said with a smile, pressing his hands together in a gesture of respect.

The city gate slowly opened before them.

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