Unintended Immortality

Inside the bamboo house, the Daoist sat cross-legged, staring at the seemingly unchanging scenery outside. He asked, “How do you find this place?”

“Meow?”

“How do you find this place?”

“It’s nice and cool.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s like being in a mouse hole.”

“What else?” the Daoist turned to ask it. “Do you have any other thoughts regarding this place?”

“It doesn’t get dark here.”

“True.”

“Good idea.”

“Right!”

This painted world was both real and illusory.

The Daoist continued to sit there, lost in thought and feeling for a long time, before finally pulling down the heavy black curtains and lying down in bed for a peaceful sleep.

He had a faint sensation of being watched. Waking naturally, he felt a bit dazed.

After getting up, he went out again with Sir Dou for a leisurely stroll, discussing the world within the painting. Upon returning, they spread out drawing paper to talk about painting techniques, how spiritual resonance is born, the prohibitions passed down through the Dou family, and their deeper meanings.

Several days passed, and he gained much from the experience. Finally, Song You said his goodbyes to Sir Dou.

Sir Dou was quite surprised and wanted to ask him to stay for a few more days.

“It's been over ten days since I arrived here, and I've gained enough. Staying longer would be counterproductive; it's better to return and digest what I've learned. I also heard there’s a Daoist temple on the mountain, so I’ll pay a visit before I leave,” the Daoist said, glancing back at the towering mountain behind him.

“Since you’ve made up your mind, I won’t impose any longer. If you come again, please seek me out,” Sir Dou replied.

“Alright.” The Daoist agreed and exchanged bows with him.

After taking one last look at the mountain that loomed like a wall behind him, he looked down at the cat beside him and headed up the mountain.

***

There was only one path up the mountain, which took about an hour to walk.

The temple at the top wasn’t large, consisting of just a few rooms with several Daoists inside. The oldest among them was already in his seventies or eighties.

According to Sir Dou, this old Daoist had entered the painting several decades ago. Back then, he was living in dire straits, suffering from natural disasters, unable to survive outside. When he arrived here, he slowly built the first Daoist temple within the painting halfway up the mountain, and thus, a temple was established in this painted world.

It was the only Daoist temple in this world.

After Song You arrived with the cat, the Daoists in the temple were greatly surprised. When they learned he came from the outside world, their astonishment only grew, and they all gathered around to chat with him.

Years ago, the old temple owner was a young Daoist who nearly starved to death. By chance, he found his way here without bringing any Daoist scriptures, and his own understanding of Daoist teachings was quite limited. After arriving, he managed to establish this temple halfway up the mountain, but there was hardly any comprehensive Daoist knowledge passed down. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

As for spells, it was even more lacking. Among the Daoists outside, more than nine out of ten wouldn’t know any spells either.

Most of the Daoists now in their middle age were disciples taken in by the old temple owner after he established the temple.

Although this place was harmonious and peaceful, there were still those who appreciated tranquility or were moved by the old owner’s philosophy and chose to come up the mountain to become new Daoists, inheriting his teachings.

As they chatted, the old temple owner was stirred and tremblingly came out to greet them.

When Song You turned to look, he saw that the old Daoist's hair had turned completely white, and he was frail and weak. Though he could still manage to walk, he needed a disciple by his side, ready to support him at any moment. The phrase “worn out” suited this old Daoist perfectly.

Feeling intimidated, Song You quickly stood up and bowed.

“I am Song You. I’m honored to meet you, sir.”

“I am Yuan Mingzi, pleased to meet you, fellow Daoist…”

“Please, master, take a seat.”

A middle-aged Daoist offered a chair, and the old temple owner slowly sat down, looking at the young Daoist. “Young one, you come from the outside?”

“Indeed.”

The old Daoist strained to recognize his features, as if his eyesight was failing. His speech was somewhat unclear, but he still asked, “What year is it outside now?”

“It is the fourth year of Mingde, in June.”

“Is the Great Yan still around?”

“It is still around.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“About…” Song You hesitated to find the right words, then said, “It’s been about ten days.”

“How has the past ten days been for you?”

“The villagers at the foot of the mountain were very hospitable, treating me with fine food and drink. Aside from the lack of day and night here, which I'm not quite used to, everything else is well,” Song You replied honestly.

“Hahaha…” The old Daoist laughed heartily. “Here, it never gets dark. When you first arrive, it feels very unfamiliar, and it takes a long time to get used to it. If you can’t adjust, it can be quite miserable…”

“Exactly.”

“The people at the foot of the mountain are always very happy when they hear that outsiders are coming. When I first arrived, it was the same for me; I owe them a lot…”

“Indeed.” The Daoist remembered the villagers' warmth and hospitality from those days and felt both moved and grateful.

“Where are you from, fellow Daoist?”

“I’m from Yizhou.”

“Huh?”

“I’m from Yizhou.” Song You leaned closer and raised his voice.

“Yizhou?”

“Have you heard of it, Daoist Elder?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.” The old Daoist waved his hand as he spoke, seemingly worried that Song You might not hear him clearly, then paused for a moment as if he were digging deep into his memory. He then leaned closer to Song You’s ear and said, “I am originally from Jingzhou.”

“Jingzhou?”

“Ah… Jingzhou…”

“I’ve also been to Jingzhou.”

“What?” The old Daoist not only had unclear speech but also struggled with hearing, making it quite difficult to converse.

Fortunately, Song You was very patient.

Even the cat, squatting beside them, seemed particularly patient as it sat upright and facing them. When Song You spoke, it looked at him; when the temple owner spoke, it looked at him, appearing obedient, which intrigued the Daoists present.

“Back then, farmers had no land to cultivate, and everyone was starving. When disasters struck, many people died of hunger by the roadside. That was when I came here,” the old temple owner said with effort. “Do you know of a place called Mount Zhen in Jingzhou?”

“I do.”

“I originally cultivated at the foot of Mount Zhen.”

“I heard that there was a time when many people came from that direction.”

“That was the time…”

“I’ve also been to Mount Zhen.”

“That place produces peaches, a lot of peaches, and they’re very delicious. I wonder if they’re still there now…”

“When I went, it was late autumn, so there were no peaches. Plus, I didn’t go to Mount Zhen; I went to another place,” the Daoist replied honestly. “It’s a pity I didn’t get to see them, so I can’t tell you about it, sir.”

“What a shame…”

“Indeed.”

“I remember when I was a child, I often went up the mountain to pick peaches. They were really sweet. When the harvest was good, you didn’t even have to buy them or steal them; if you passed by and said a few good words, people would let you pick some,” the old temple owner said, shaking his head repeatedly with his voice drawn out.

He seemed like he was filled with nostalgia for his hometown as he said, “What a pity! This place is great for everything, except for peaches.”

“When I was at the foot of the mountain, there were also common folk from Jingzhou who came decades ago, and they said they missed it very much,” Song You said. “I guess everyone grew up this way.”

“Who wouldn’t miss it?” The old temple owner paused for a moment, then turned his head toward Song You, chattering about the peach blossom hills at the foot of Mount Zhen in Jingzhou. He described how large, sweet, and juicy the peaches were every summer.

As he spoke, he became more excited with his face glowing. He laughed occasionally, revealing his two remaining teeth.

But once he finished, it was as if the feast had come to an end; his expression turned dejected, and he sighed and shook his head. “If I had known, I should have brought some peaches with me back then; even bringing two peach pits would have been good…”

“Who could have thought of that back then?”

“Indeed…” The old temple owner shook his head. “I still remember it was the ninth year of Changyuan.”

“There was a great disaster in the ninth year of Changyuan.”

“How long has it been outside?”

“If it’s the ninth year of Changyuan…”

Song You paused to think and calculate before answering, “If I’m not mistaken, it’s been fifty-five years now.”

“At that time, I was twenty-six…”

“So now you must be eighty-one.”

“I’m eighty-one already.” The old temple owner looked up at the sky, feeling emotional.

“Sir, you’ve lived a long life.”

“What’s so special about having a long life? As long as there’s no war, no hunger, and no hardship, most people will live long as long as they can safely enter adulthood.”

The old temple owner sighed helplessly as he spoke, turning to look at the few disciples beside him. He urged, “Don’t just sit here; go get something to eat and treat this Daoist friend well. All of you, go, go…”

The several middle-aged Daoists quickly left.

Some went to pick vegetables, some went to get meat and fish, and others started a fire to boil water, each busy with their tasks.

Only then did the old temple owner lean closer to Song You and ask again, “Did you meet someone with the surname Dou before you came in?”

“Indeed.”

“How did you get in?”

“It was also by fate.”

“Of course, if you could enter, it’s because of fate…”

“Then how did you come in, sir?”

“How did I come in…”

The old temple owner turned to look at the mountain behind him, squinting as he recalled for a long time before sighing, “At that time, we were starving, looking everywhere for a way to survive. We met a person who was almost captured to be eaten. After we rescued him, he followed us for a while, and one day he told us that those looking for a way to survive could follow him.

“We were hanging by a thread, and many people believed him; those who believed followed him. It was one night, and we couldn’t see anything, but we just followed him, walking and walking until we ended up here.”

“It’s also by fate.”

“However, before we left, he told us not to tell anyone. Over the years, I’ve never mentioned it to anyone,” the old temple owner added, then warned him, “Daoist friend, you shouldn’t mention it everywhere either, lest the gods on the mountain find out and hold you accountable.”

“The gods on the mountain?” Song You turned to glance at the mountain peak, a smile spreading across his face.

“Ah!”

“Do you know that there are gods on the mountain?”

“Of course.”

“What do they look like?”

“It’s hard to say…”

“Have you seen them with your own eyes?”

“Of course I have!”

The old temple owner’s eyes widened as he exclaimed, “The reason I built the temple here on this mountain is that when I was young, I went up the mountain to chop wood and saw this god once. I saw him twice more afterward.

“And when someone down in the valley forgot the ancestral teachings passed down by their forefathers, acting arrogantly and oppressing others, they were struck by lightning and killed. Wasn’t that the work of the gods on the mountain? Besides, the fact that we can live in seclusion here is also due to the gods manifesting.”

“That person with the surname Dou…”

“Perhaps he was a god transformed into human form!”

“Now I see.”

Song You glanced up at the mountain once more.

The cat followed suit, turning its head to look at the mountain as well. But all they saw were the lush greenery and the pink clouds illuminated by the sunset; there were no gods in sight.

It seemed that this scene held spirituality.

When Song You withdrew his gaze, the old temple owner had already shakily stood up, calling him to come eat in the temple.

With no reason to refuse, Song You respectfully assisted him as they made their way to the temple. Inside, several Daoists had killed a chicken and prepared pickled fish and dried meat. Although there were only a few dishes, each was served in large bowls, filling more than half the table, and it felt like each bowl could feed several people.

They chatted and ate, both parties enjoying themselves immensely.

After the meal, as Song You was preparing to leave, the old temple owner stood unsteadily and asked him, “What are your plans after this, Daoist friend?”

“I plan to take a stroll around the mountain and then head down.”

“What I meant was, what are your plans afterward? If you’re going to stay at the foot of the mountain, where will you settle? If you have no place to go, you might as well stay in the temple,” the old temple owner said.

He added, “I’m not afraid of you laughing; when I was out there, the reason I came to the mountain to be a Daoist was just to earn a meal. When I came in, I was young and didn’t learn any skills. If you could come, that would be a wonderful thing.”

“The temple owner’s good intentions are appreciated, but I’m actually just a fake Daoist and don’t understand much about Daoist scriptures.”

Song You felt touched and sincerely bowed.

He nodded and contemplated for a moment. Then he lifted his head and asked the old temple owner, “I wonder if there are any brushes and ink in the temple?”

“Of course there are…”

“Are there any pigments?”

“There are a few kinds.”

“May I borrow them for a bit?”

“Go get them!”

Before long, the brushes, ink, and pigments were brought over.

The young Daoist took the brushes and ink, stepped outside the temple and looked around before he found the outermost white wall. He began to paint, meticulously outlining the trunk and branches, then adding leaves.

The others didn’t recognize the tree, and even the old temple owner, whose eyesight had long faded, couldn’t see clearly. Even when the Daoist painted fruit on the branches, the middle-aged Daoists couldn’t tell what it was.

It wasn’t until the young Daoist added bright red to the fruit that the ink blurred and blended with the white wall, making it look similar to real peaches, that the old temple owner finally focused his attention.

A peach tree had appeared on the white wall.

The painting skills weren’t exceptional, and the result wasn’t remarkable. Yet, the effort he had put in made it seem as if he had been aided by a divine force, allowing him to capture a certain spiritual resonance in his work.

After finishing the painting, the Daoist stared at it for a long time. Then he blew on the wall.

“Whoosh…”

Suddenly, the painting seemed to come to life.

It appeared as if faint white smoke was dispersing, or perhaps it wasn’t; everyone felt a bit dazed, some blinking, others rubbing their eyes. Suddenly realizing that the painting on the wall had changed, they became increasingly realistic.

Although the branches and twigs of the peach tree were still somewhat the same, the colors of the leaves and fruit had distinctly transformed, taking on a three-dimensional quality with clear light and shadow.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed as though the painting was no longer on the white wall but had instead grown outside of it.

Wait! How could the painting have moved outside the wall?

It was clear that a peach tree had actually sprouted beside the wall!

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