Unintended Immortality

The three people and one cat reached the summit of Yunding Mountain. Looking around, there were no higher peaks to be seen. All that met the eye was a sea of rolling white clouds. Occasionally, a few high mountains would peek through with only their peaks barely visible, turning into islands within the cloud sea. Beyond that, only the blue sky and the sun were visible, with not a single cloud in sight.

“This must be what an immortal's realm looks like!” Cui Nanxi said, his eyes wide as he gazed into the distance.

As his vision broadened, so did his heart. He imagined that the homes of immortals must be like this—beneath a spotless blue sky, overlooking an endless sea of clouds, with the world's edge visible in a single glance.

A pristine clarity, far from the mundane world.

“Our journey has been smooth. I originally thought we would reach here around dusk, but we arrived before the afternoon was over,” Cui Nanxi remarked to Song You. “Indeed, when one’s mood is good, your steps naturally become lighter as well.”

“Arriving early is always better,” Song You replied casually.

“Unfortunately, we did not encounter any immortals on the way. It seems that I am destined to not encounter them,” Cui Nanxi said, looking around and smiling. “But meeting a master Daoist cultivator like you still made the trip worthwhile.”

“You’re too kind.”

“You must be hungry after climbing the mountain and overcoming obstacles. Xu Le, quickly bring the dry food and pears.”

Cui Nanxi said cheerfully, “While traveling, I didn’t bring any delicacies. When I first set out, my wife thoughtfully prepared some snacks for me, but I finished them within the first two days of my journey. However, these pears… We found them on the roadside while climbing the mountain yesterday morning. I don’t know if you’ve seen them as well.

“They’re unsightly and tiny, and might not be as beautiful or large as the Pingzhou gong pears, but they are fragrant and sweet. There were only a few on the tree, and although we felt guilty picking them all, we liked them so much that we took most of them. We only left a few for the others. Please be sure to try them.”

Song You said, “We also brought some provisions.”

“Then… Let’s share?”

“Sure.” Song You smiled as he listened. “Actually, we also picked some wild fruits by the roadside. They’re not filling but can serve to satisfy our cravings.”

It seemed like a stroke of fate. So, he didn't decline further and simply took out the steamed buns he had brought along, as well as some wild fruits he had picked, and shared them with Cui Nanxi and the guard named Xu Le.

The calico cat, meanwhile, enjoyed dried fish bought by the lake. The dried fish was crispy and well-dried. She chewed it with both sides of her teeth, producing a distinct crunching sound that was oddly satisfying to listen to and lifted one's spirits.

The wild pears Cui Nanxi picked were indeed delicious. Though they looked unappealing, the skin was thin, and inside was juicy flesh. You didn’t even need much effort to take a bite; a gentle nibble was enough.

As for the wild fruits Song You gathered, they might not look impressive, but their taste ranked among the best of wild fruits. They had a wonderfully fragrant aroma, refreshing and delightful—a top-tier delicacy.

Standing at the peak, with boundless scenic views and mountain delicacies, one naturally felt a surge of joy. Any lingering gloom instantly vanished.

“When do you plan to descend the mountain, Master Song?” Cui Nanxi asked.

“I'm in no hurry,” Song You replied.

“I'm not in a hurry either!” Cui Nanxi said, then paused. “However, I don't have your skills. I must descend before sunset to cross the iron chain; otherwise, it could be too dangerous if it gets dark...”

“There's still plenty of time.”

“Yes.” Cui Nanxi smiled. “Today, we should fully enjoy the scenery.”

Looking out at the vast expanse, seemingly boundless since ancient times, he felt the insignificance of human life and the brevity of a century. Cui Nanxi couldn't help but feel that his own pursuits and ambitions seemed rather laughable in the grand scheme of things.

He was also tempted to abandon everything and seek a life of ease. Yet, with a sigh, he came to his senses and saw not only the vast, boundless world before him but also the sprawling human realm.

Since he was not an immortal, it was inevitable that he would be bound by worldly concerns.

“Ah...” Cui Nanxi sighed, feeling envious of the Daoist's carefree demeanor. At that moment, Song You pulled out a small jade bottle from his belongings and took out then consumed a red pill.

Sitting cross-legged, Song You faced the sea of clouds.

Nearby, Cui Nanxi seemed reflective, sitting alone and murmuring to the vast world. His voice was soft but still reached Song You’s ears. “The world is vast and time is limited. Why rush? Life is often filled with disappointments; it's best not to dwell on gains and losses.”

His words had a touch of leisure.

Song You turned to tell him that he would be meditating but, seeing him lost in thought, chose not to disturb him. Instead, he closed his eyes.

“When one finds himself alone and at leisure, just focus on composing poetry and enjoying wine. He should freely sing and compose amidst the vast lakes and seas, carefree and unrestrained, indifferent to the constraints of time and space…” the murmurs continued.

As Song You entered a trance, he took advantage of Cui Nanxi’s distraction to transform into a swallow and soared into the sky.

Once airborne, the sky seemed even further away, the sea of clouds more expansive, and the world larger. The renowned Yunding Mountain known throughout Great Yan, which attracted countless visitors, was merely a small island in this vast sea.

Soaring into the boundless sky, Song You felt the oppressive vastness of the universe. When the monotony grew tiresome, he would turn and descend, experiencing the intense sensation of weightlessness with the wind howling past. He then plunged into the endless sea of clouds, navigating through the misty world with occasional sharp turns.

The mountains sprawled endlessly, with the scenery of all seasons visible.

He saw flowers blooming in the mountain’s midsection, butterflies fluttering about. A traveler bent over and picked a flower before he gently sniffed it, erasing the fatigue of climbing.

At the base of the mountain, the lush green trees, the vast lakes, and the misty waves painted a beautiful landscape. A fisherman stood in a small boat, wearing a straw hat to shield himself from the sun, casting a round net into the water with a splash.

He saw the wind sweeping away the red leaves, which formed a carpet on the ground. The swallow's wingtip brushed through, seemingly knocking off a leaf.

He observed a deer grazing in the mountain meadows. The swallow darted gracefully over its head almost silently, causing the deer to lift its head and look around warily.

He saw a secluded lake behind Yunding Mountain, accessible only to the rare few. The shallow areas were as white as milk, and the deep parts a light blue like ice jade. From afar, it glistened under the sun with a purity surpassing that of gemstones. Up close, the waves were pushed by the wind and washed over white pebbles, a beauty rarely seen by the world.

He also noticed the mountain breeze causing the trees to bow, creating waves of foliage.

Unidentified sparrows pecked at the ground, while a leopard crouched among the bushes. Insects emerged from the fallen leaves, and many seekers of immortals ascended the mountain along the paths.

Turning upwards, he leapt from the sea of clouds, the sky stretching out before him and offering a sense of freedom and ease.

Circling Yunding Mountain, the stone carvings on its cliffs became clearly visible. Each horizontal ripple was a mark left by wind and time. Though the original forms could still be faintly discerned, most details had long been submerged in the river of time. Who in this world could remain eternal?

Cui Nanxi looked at the swallow, shrinking his neck against the cold wind at the mountain's peak. His face showed both surprise and joy. The swallow, undeterred, flapped its wings and flew off into the distance.

Gazing at the vast cosmos and the richness of all things, he felt like a mere mayfly in the grand scheme of the universe, a single grain in the boundless sea.

It was unclear how long it took, but eventually, the swallow flew up close to the mountain wall, sneaking into the Daoist priest’s body from an angle unseen by Cui Nanxi and his guard.

The Daoist priest did not immediately open his eyes but continued to meditate with them closed, reflecting on the profound and mysterious sensations inspired by the previous vision of the grand scenery. He contemplated the spiritual resonance and mysteries of the surrounding world of the present moment.

Yunding Mountain was indeed a famous peak, known for its height and majestic, perilous views. Long ago, a cultivator had cultivated here, leaving behind carvings and iron chains. This led to tales of the mountain as a place of immortals, attracting countless seekers of the Dao. Over time, these stories added a layer of mystique, creating the legend of the celestial mountain after endless cycles.

How could ordinary people find immortals here? They could only find themselves.

Yet it was precisely the cultivator who had cultivated here that left countless carvings, and his presence remained embedded in the spiritual resonance of the mountain and within those stone carvings.

Song You seemed to see him.

To be precise, he saw the spiritual resonance of Yunding Mountain. It contained every storm, earthquake, and cycle of day and night that the mountain had endured. Although these events were too numerous and brief to be clearly distinguished individually, their accumulation made them noticeable as a whole.

It also held the traces of every climber, every person who had fallen from the cliffs, every poet who had composed verses about immortals at the summit. Yet, these were also too numerous or too fleeting to be clearly remembered by the mountain.

Only one cultivator, who had cultivated here for a century, had interacted daily and nightly with the mountain's spiritual resonance and left behind a multitude of carvings. His clear imprint was second only to the erosion by countless millennia of sunlight, moonlight, starlight, and wind and rain.

Perhaps it was fate, perhaps a coincidence.

Whether due to the spiritual resonance’s influence or the carvings themselves, Song You felt as though he had transcended time and could see the cultivator in an instant.

The cultivator had spent over a hundred years here. Besides his cultivation, he had done only one thing—carving stones.

Chisel by chisel, he had engraved figures in various poses—standing, sitting, flying, dancing—on Yunding Mountain. It was unknown what these figures meant to him, whether they were his thoughts at the time, his lifelong passions, or his constant reminiscences. What was clear was that they were once vivid, but centuries of wind had changed their appearance.

Song You watched him carve; chisel by chisel, stroke by stroke. He heard the clinking of tools and the sound of wind blowing stone chips away.

A hundred years passed as if it were a single day, unimpeded by wind or rain. The past was not hurried, nor was the future.

Figures then took shape.

Amidst the incessant, wearisome clinking sound that had persisted for a hundred years, Song You gradually developed a different perspective on the unchanging world and the never-ending passage of time. This feeling was not limited to Yunding Mountain but also extended to the mountains and rivers he had traversed over the past year since descending the mountain. It was not only about the figures and carvings but also about his own self.

It seemed that tomorrow would mark the Beginning of Autumn. In that case, it had already been a year since he came down the mountain.

A year consisted of twenty-four solar terms. Coincidentally, there were twenty-four types of spiritual energy.

Each time in different mountains and waters, each type of spiritual energy carried the unique essence of those landscapes and encapsulated the insights and emotions of the time.

At this moment, as his body and mind connected with the world around him, the subtle melodies and insights from these spiritual energies replayed in his mind. He not only revisited the feelings from that time but also gained new insights, as if he were walking through them once more.

***

“That swallow we saw earlier must have been transformed from a god or an immortal; otherwise, in such high and cold conditions, where would a swallow come from?” Cui Nanxi did not wish to disturb the meditating cultivator and could only converse with Xu Le.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the cultivator’s side.

The calico cat seemed more at ease than anyone else. It had wandered to the edge of the cliff, peeking into the distance and down below, as if admiring the scenery. It occasionally yawned and shook its head.

“Ah…” Cui Nanxi sighed, wishing he could chat more with the master Daoist cultivator but realizing he couldn’t. He turned his head, searching for a suitable stone to take as a souvenir.

After all, it was a stone from a sacred mountain. It should have some immortal's aura.

After searching for a while, he found a suitable stone. As he was putting it into his bag, he noticed that the calico cat had turned its head and was staring at him with a curious expression.

Cui Nanxi thought for a moment and explained, “I’ve heard that people who visit famous mountains, especially those who visit sacred or celestial mountains, sometimes take a stone from the mountain to bring home. It’s believed to ward off evil spirits and protect the home... Well, I don’t really need it for that, but I find it interesting and want to keep it as a memento.”

He looked at the cat. The cat remained with its head held high, staring intently at him, as if not understanding what he was saying.

“…”

Cui Nanxi shook his head. Perhaps the cat did not understand human speech; it was simply smart and had spirituality, and the Daoist priest had a unique ability to communicate with animals.

Having served as an official for many years and visited various recluses and notable figures, he had heard of such abilities before.

The sun gradually set.

The Daoist priest showed no sign of emerging from meditation, while the calico cat had curled up next to him and fallen asleep. Cui Nanxi noticed that the cat was clutching a small stone in its paws.

“Ha…” That was amusing.

Feeling somewhat influenced by the cat or perhaps by the setting sun on the mountaintop urging sleep, or maybe due to the dizzying mountain wind, he inexplicably felt drowsy. Unable to resist the drowsiness, but unwilling to descend the mountain or disturb the Daoist priest, he told his escort and lay down for a short nap.

Perhaps it was the warmth of the sun? It was surprisingly not cold!

The nap left him feeling dazed. It was unclear how long he had slept.

When he woke up, besides feeling refreshed with no soreness in his back or legs, he only sensed a chill. The sky had dimmed, and the sun was no longer visible, leaving only a streak of red on the horizon.

“Oh no!” It was already too late; how could he descend the mountain now?

Cui Nanxi was about to ask his escort why he hadn’t been awakened, only to find that the escort was right beside him, fast asleep and still not awake.

Just as he was about to rouse the escort, he noticed that a few unexpected visitors had arrived on the small mountaintop: a spotted leopard crouched on the left, a colorful baboon sat on the right, an old-looking goat stood precariously near the edge of the cliff behind him, and an eagle perched on a rock in front. They were all motionless and silent, their arrival and how long they had been there unknown.

“…” Cui Nanxi was both surprised and puzzled.

He tried to wake the escort again.

At that moment, a beam of morning light broke through the clouds and struck the mountaintop, causing him to instinctively squint and shield his eyes with his hand. The mountain was bathed in red.