Chapter 708: Chapter 708

He thought of the mountain rain and fog ghosts of the Jinyang Road, the rock carvings and twilight on the cliffs, the first sight of Yidu City, the singing and dancing in the little courtyard, the upright constable across the street, and the prefect in the goulan washe feigning chance encounters to inquire about the secret of longevity.

Who at the time could have imagined that the constable would follow in Duke of Thunder Zhou’s footsteps, or that the prefect would become a wise prime minister and a lord of the underworld?

At Liujiang in Xuzhou, a small boat drifted for days through a thousand-li painted landscape.

At Lingbo, a woman of the jianghu who kept her word greeted him for the first time with cupped hands, “As a jianghu person, I’ll introduce myself first. My surname is Wu, and my name is Suowei. I am a disciple of the Xishan Sect in Yizhou. How do I address you?”

Anqing, in the misty rain, was still a wonder of the world. The Great Liujiang Gathering lived up to its reputation as a grand event of the jianghu. The figures of martial artists moving like dancers or in combat still appeared before his eyes, as vivid as his encounters with the old Swallow Immortal and young Swallow Immortal, which seemed like yesterday.

A chance meeting with a peerless swordsman in a mortuary, a visit to the inherent Mountain God deep in the mountains… The memory that left the deepest impression was still the mountains covered with lily magnolias.

At Southern Art County, night rains lingered; atop Yunding Mountain, people comprehend the Dao and sought immortality

By the shores of Mirror Island Lake, he first met Duke of Thunder Zhou, who at the time had not yet taken office as the Chief Officer of the Thunder Division.

Outside Changjing, the city was dim and hazy, and his old friend still kept her promise.

The crippled State Preceptor came to visit, exuding dignity; the aged emperor earnestly inquired about longevity, exuding authority. On Mount Chang, apricot blossoms painted the mountains; at the Eastern District gate, the general returned.

Who then could have known their fates?

During Qingming, atop Hexian Pavilion, a woman in white, playing a guqin with divine skill, easily deceived the Daoist. Even now, it seemed miraculous.

The Daoist shook his head with a smile.

Thinking of the northern wars, the first thing he remembered was the storm in Hezhou for a year, but the memory that lingered most deeply was the image of people moving against the epidemic through the bitter winter in the returning county.

As the snowfields melted, the sun rose from Borrowed Mountain like rouge. A great victory on the frontier: soldiers threw down their weapons in celebration. Yet who knew, centuries later, whether the grasslands’ Turtle City, once filled with ghost soldiers, would leave any ruins? How much of the long line of Snow Temple would remain? Would the stories of Doctor Cai eradicating the plague still circulate in the world?

Before the Daoist’s eyes, a blur overtook him, and he seemed transported back to the Qingtong Forest in Yuezhou, witnessing the divine bird slicing through the night sky.

That day, he learned that his master had left him.

On Mount Beiqin, when Doctor Cai decided to compose a new medical canon, it was clear that the world and countless lives would change with it. The great battle at Mount Ye in Fengzhou, though astonishing, had become merely a minor image in the Daoist’s memory, while the experiences overseas and the splendor of Yangdu left more lingering impressions.

“The world has changed…”

“Do you have the courage to fight this demon?”

“Why have you stolen my bamboo staff?”

“The world is about to fall into chaos…”

“Does Your Majesty still believe your life is worth more than his?”

A string of images connected like a line.

Memories flowed like sand, fleeting in these twenty years, yet also fleeting in the long river of history, now appearing as images floating in his mind.

A raging fire consumed the Qingtong Forest of countless millennia, the only remnant of the ancient world in the human realm.

In the Danxia of Longzhou, the Daoist walked slowly; before the sulfur lake, windswept sand filled the sky. He faced it all, observing desert camel caravans and golden sunsets, mountain temples, the weight of history in the wind. And he still remembered the words that floated with the wind, “If one wishes to be a dragon or elephant among Buddhas, one must first serve as an ox or horse for all living beings.”

The snow of Mount Huangsha, the fire of the Terraflame Kingdom, the drip-filled lakes of Mount Huayan, and the melting ice of the Jadeite Kingdom.

That Flame Mountain, its fire must be nearly extinguished now.

Returning to Yidu, a single dream spanned many years.

The scenery of Yunzhou was magnificent: atop the great mountains, a true dragon exhaled its breath; a thousand peaks turned green again; the earth welcomed spring’s return. Even until life’s very end, that scene would surely remain etched deep within the Daoist’s mind.

“We are here to guard the Ghost City for the Daoist. You gave us the Longevity Pill as a fair exchange… Naturally, we should follow your example, ‘Wash away the dust of the world, leisurely roam across the rivers and mountains, and become the master of the land and its beauty.’ Although it was just casual talk back then on the boat drifting along the river, it wasn’t a lie.”

“I hope good news will come from your journey, my friend, and don’t forget this idle soul by the riverside.”

“This act aligns with the Heavenly Dao, and answers the hearts of the people. I ask that you, exalted deities, take heed and commit no acts that go against Heaven.”

“I come by decree of the Celestial Emperor to subdue you!”

“I am the Fiery Sun True Lord!”

“Divine officials and heavenly generals, descend to exterminate demons and evil spirits!”

“I have come especially to seek the Goddess’s instruction…”

“So I must ask, Duke of Thunder, are you a god for the people of the mortal realm, or for the Celestial Emperor of the Heavenly Palace?”

“Daoist Master, you owe us one severed tail and a hundred years of life.”

The morning in the mountains was extremely quiet. Outside the window, the world did not stir; even the drifting clouds and mist in the mountains had stopped changing. The Daoist still lay in the loft.

A haze of reverie washed over him.

Of course, the most important memory remained the cat from the small mountain temple, which had watched him warily all those years ago.

“I just helped the people below the mountain catch mice. Furthermore, I originally had a little temple of my own. Later, some people carried my clay statue to this big temple. I didn't want to come.”

“Why would you want me to follow you then?”

“I don't know what loneliness is.”

“I don't know what a friendship gift is.”

“If I eat your fish, will I become your cat?”

“Do you eat insects?”

“You are not clever.”

“How did you know it was inside?”

“I don’t understand…”

“You seem very impressive.”

“Hot water is great! Humans drink hot water. Hot water tastes round, while cold water tastes sharp…”

“This mountain’s fur is all fluffed up!”

“My lantern is incredible; it can burn a hole in the night.”

The past twenty years had been spent with her by his side, and the many years ahead would clearly continue in her company. There was no denying it, that chance encounter on the Jinyang Road back then had been the greatest gain of this entire journey. There had been many happy events in those twenty years, but none surpassed this.

When he snapped back to reality, the sky was already brightening. The cat still lay on the table, sound asleep.

Song You withdrew his gaze from the mountain scenery outside the window and looked at the cat again. His eyes flickered, but he did not wake her. He carefully put the travelogue back, stood up, and headed downstairs.

After a few steps, he stopped, turned, and looked down.

A calico cat, still half-asleep, toppled slightly but followed behind him, as if she remembered nothing, only acting on instinct.

Only when she noticed the Daoist had stopped did she realize something was wrong. She looked up, her small face still heavy with sleep.

The cat sat down and scratched her head with her hind paw.

“Have I been reformed by you?”

“It’s I who have been reformed by you, Lady Calico.”

That morning, the sun climbed higher and higher. Yin-Yang Mountain was slightly different from before.

At the village below the mountain, someone carried a bowl, eating while strolling outside. When they reached an open area and casually looked up, they saw a Daoist temple standing quietly in the mountain mist.

Others, heading out to work, stepped onto the field ridges and, looking up, found themselves facing the same temple.

This temple was not only a memory for some of the people but also a legend they had grown up hearing. For a moment, everyone was astonished.

Word spread quickly, from one to ten, from ten to a hundred. The villagers below the mountain discussed it fervently.

“The temple has returned?”

“It’s been so many years. So many people tried to find it and couldn’t. How has it appeared again?”

“Let’s bring a few more people!”

Finally, some of the older villagers put on shoes and jackets, three or five together, and clumsily ran up the mountain, some even carrying a few coins for offerings. The younger ones, needing more courage to follow, walked on with their eyes lifted to the temple. They were excited and nervous, for it was something absent from their memories until now.

Some elderly people felt it even more deeply; though their legs and feet were no longer nimble, they clutched walking sticks and were helped by younger family members, stumbling along the mountain path.

“This path has appeared too.”

“Don’t ring it recklessly!”

“It still looks the same as before…”

“Did this little pond exist before?”

“Oh, I knew the immortal was coming back! The last time we saw the temple, it wasn’t a hallucination. Since that day, the demons and spirits in ten li and eight villages[1] have disappeared completely. It must mean the immortal returned; otherwise, how could it be such a coincidence?”

“Why isn’t the gate open?”

The villagers debated at the entrance. Almost at the same moment, a sound came. “Creak…”

The temple gate slowly opened, releasing a faint scent of incense. The villagers fixed their eyes on it and saw three halls and a courtyard inside. The courtyard was clean, with a large incense burner.

The one who opened the gate was a young girl dressed in tri-colored garments. Her skin was fair and flawless, and her large, bright eyes were full of spirit, immediately marking her as extraordinary. However, her face showed no expression. She stood in the doorway and looked up at them.

“Eh?” The villagers stopped in their tracks, staring at her from outside the gate, hesitant to enter.

“It wasn’t like that before…”

Then a Daoist appeared from inside.

He wore a faded white Daoist robe and looked young. Though his features and expression had changed from years ago, some of the older villagers still felt a sense of familiarity.

“It’s that young master from before!”

“He’s still the same as before!”

Several villagers widened their eyes.

“Respected devotees and faithful followers, please come in.”

The Daoist bowed politely to them, scanning the older villagers’ faces. Some were familiar, some had long vanished from memory. “After so many years apart, it is truly a blessing to meet you all here again.”

The tri-colored girl beside him finally spoke, mimicking the Daoist’s words but in a much more serious tone, “Respected devotees and faithful followers, please come in!”

The villagers exchanged glances and then stepped into the temple.

“Greetings, Master.” Some bowed and cupped their hands to Song You.

The Daoist returned their bows.

“Y-Young… Master, what happened to the former female owner of the temple?”

“That was my teacher,” Song You said calmly. “She passed away over a decade ago.”

“Passed away? Aren’t you immortals?”

“You misunderstand. We are merely Daoists of the mountains, not immortals. We also age, fall ill, and die, we cannot live forever.”

“Then where have you been all these years?” Thɪs chapter is updated by novel✦fire.net

“I went away on some matters for a few years.”

“So you’re saying you’re not immortals, yet you even moved the temple?”

“The temple has always been here; it was never moved. It was merely an illusion,” the Daoist replied calmly. “If you attend temple fairs or markets, you can witness similar magic.”

“Will you be leaving again?”

“Not for at least the next several decades.”

“That’s good, that’s good…”

“A few years ago, we saw the temple in the mountains. So you returned once? Did you get rid of the monsters below?”

“Indeed, we returned once. The monsters, however, were eliminated by my child and the swallow,” Song You said, pointing at Lady Calico. “This is my child, named Lady Calico. There is also a swallow in the temple, whom you will meet in time.”

“Very good, very good…”

“I have also taken on a disciple, just over a year old. From now on, they will stay here as well. I hope you villagers will kindly look after them.”

“Not at all. With the world so chaotic today, full of demons and spirits, it is we who should seek help from wise immortals like you.”

“That is simply our duty.”

“Master, can you perform a blessing today?”

“My mother seems to be possessed…”

“Please tell me where you live. This afternoon, my child will visit your village.”

“This is the preserved meat our family made…”

“What should we do about it?”

“There’s a dog in our village that has become a demon!”

“Do not worry, everyone. Tell us slowly.”

The newly opened temple was filled with a flurry of voices. The Daoist remained calm, addressing each concern patiently.

Lady Calico stood beside him, eyes fixed intently.

Today was a demonstration by the Daoist. From now on, opening the temple and receiving devotees would be her responsibility, at least until little Jiang Han grew up, at which point the duties could be handed over.

This was the lifeblood of the temple; it could not be neglected. After an unknown length of time, the visitors finally left.

Lady Calico had already prepared herself.

In the tenth year of Da’an, early autumn…

Everything in the temple had settled into routine. On a typical autumn morning, the distant mountains were clear and beautiful, with a few clusters of clouds drifting quietly. The air was cool and crisp.

The Daoist slept inside, while the swallow flew chaotically overhead. Little Jiang Han woke up once, her feet numb from sleep, and bawled loud enough for the whole temple to hear. Lady Calico held her for quite some time, coaxing her to stop crying. Once calmed, she taught her to stomp her feet on the bed, then let her cry a while longer. Eventually, tired from crying, the child fell asleep again.

Lady Calico took a small stool and sat at the temple entrance for breakfast. Bowl in one hand, chopsticks in the other, she leaned against the wall, her body folding in on itself until she seemed a small curled figure.

Her bowl contained plain rice, a few slices of sausage, leftovers from the previous night, and two pickled long beans. It was a simple but comforting meal.

Lady Calico ate with soft “nom nom” sounds.

Outside, the scenery remained unchanged. Such a life seemed like it could continue for many years.

Suddenly, the sound of a bell rang out, echoing across the mountains for ten li.

At this time, Lady Calico straightened up, lifted her head, and looked toward the foot of the mountain. On Yin-Yang Mountain, an old friend had arrived.