Unintended Immortality

The woman's expression remained calm. She noticed the dishes on the table, the young girl with slightly damp and oily cheeks, and the Daoist's hands as he peeled shrimp. Naturally, she also saw the helpless look on his face.

“Perhaps I could come back a little later...”

“Is there something troubling you?”

“It's nothing important,” the woman replied with a smile. “It’s just that autumn is approaching, and I wanted to invite you to join me on a boat ride along the river to enjoy the autumn scenery. I wonder if you’re free?”

“We’ve been in Changjing for quite some time now, keeping our identities hidden. You are the only one who has seen through us,” the maid behind the woman said, grinning. “And the only one who can converse with us.”

“I wonder, will there be music to listen to?”

“If you wish to hear some, I would be happy to oblige.”

“When shall we go?”

“We will have the best weather three days from now.”

“I’ll surely be there.”

“We won’t trouble you any longer.”

“Many thanks, Daoist Master.”

“Take care.”

Lady Wanjiang gave a final glance at the young girl by the table, performed a courteous bow, and left.

The Daoist watched them depart, finding it all quite amusing.

In truth, he was still very curious. These two shared the same body, but did their thoughts remain independent, like a cat and its tail? Or were their minds connected, sharing a single consciousness?

If their thoughts were independent, would the “tail” ever think, “Why is it you who gets to control the body while I can only be a tail? Why do you get to be the master, and I have to be the servant?” But if their minds were indeed linked, then why go through all the effort of pretending to be two people? Speaking in turn, acting in different roles, each displaying a distinct style—it seemed there was a bit of playful mischief in their behavior.

The Daoist shook his head, unable to figure it out. He sat back down, resumed peeling shrimp for Lady Calico, and urged her to eat slowly. He didn’t want to disturb her meal.

At Hexian Pavilion…

The maid lifted the curtain for the woman, who stepped into the room with a graceful, unhurried pace.

The room wasn’t excessively luxurious but was tasteful. On one side were vases and decorative items, while famous calligraphy and paintings adorned the walls. A few steps ahead stood a table, and only at the far end was the bed.

On the table sat a qin, along with several crystal fruit trays containing the newly arrived gong pears from Pingzhou, late-season peaches from Jingzhou, and a bunch of amethyst grapes, still glistening with droplets of water. Though it was still midsummer outside, the oppressive heat had long been dispelled from this room.

The woman reclined onto the long couch, her soft body lazily resting as she lay on her side. Yet, when her gaze fell on the fruit on the table, she couldn’t help but sigh.

“What's wrong?” The maid beside her asked with a grin, “Shall I bring you a plate of raw meat as well?”

“Stop teasing me.”

“If you don't want to eat it, I will.”

“I said, stop teasing me.”

“Who are you talking about?” the maid asked, still smiling mischievously.

The woman waved her hand, speaking in a lethargic tone, “A demon disguised as a human can’t just casually eat raw meat.”

“Some can.”

“...”

“Some not only eat raw meat, but also raw fish, baby chicks, and even have powerful cultivators peeling shrimp for them. And what about you? You don't even dare accept an invitation to eat thinly sliced carp from a noble. Every day, you have to pretend you enjoy eating grass and fruits,” the maid teased. “How pitiful.”

“...”

“Watching all that today, did you get hungry?”

“...”

“Tell me, do you think that Daoist from Hidden Dragon Temple just recognized us as demons, or did he figure out what kind of demon we are? Or perhaps he even knows our entire background?”

“Who knows.”

“Humans truly are heaven's favorites.”

“Indeed.”

“So what should we do?”

“Let things take their course.” The woman waved her hand again. “We’ve never harmed anyone. Duke of Thunder Zhou can't just strike us down for no reason, right?”

“Hehe...”

“I'm feeling a bit sleepy.”

“No, you're not.”

“...”

Three days later, outside the city of Changjing, on the Yuqu River…

Though autumn had begun, it wasn’t yet End of Heat, so the weather still felt like summer. The fields along the riverbanks were already turning golden, with people harvesting, but the grass and trees on the surrounding hills remained lush and green.

A small awning boat leisurely glided over the water. There was no boatman, no oars, no pole to steer the boat, yet it drifted calmly, as if carried by the current.

Faint and intermittent sounds of a qin echoed from within the boat.

This tune was even slower than the one played during Qingming. Each pluck of the strings resonated deeply in one's heart, and with every pause, it left room for endless imagination.

On a blackwood table, there were tea, pastries, and an old lacquered qin with golden patterns. The woman focused intently on playing the qin, paying no mind to her surroundings.

The Daoist, however, sat diagonally across from her, gazing at the scenery along the riverbanks.

The calico cat quietly curled up on the Daoist’s lap, staring at the emerald-green water outside. Her ears perked up, only reacting occasionally when ripples spread across the surface or when birds and apes called from the shore.

Meanwhile, the maid sat idly beside them. She held a long pole, and whenever another boat passed by and someone glanced over, she would raise the pole as if to show that their boat was indeed being steered, so as not to arouse too much surprise. When there were no onlookers, she simply sat in a daze.

The qin continued to play in fits and starts, its melody turning more somber and wistful.

Hearing the music up close was certainly different from listening to it from afar.

In a daze, it seemed as though the vegetation along the shore had turned yellow. Though only a few days into autumn, it felt like the scene had shifted to late autumn. Even the river appeared to ripple with endless waves, as if touched by autumn rains. But with a blink, everything returned to normal.

What was fascinating to Song You was that, though he knew this woman wasn’t human and was, in fact, a powerful demon, he also knew that the qin’s melody had no connection to magic or spiritual energy.

It simply reflected the truth of the world—though Daoist arts may change in countless ways and were profound, they were not to be held in arrogance. Every path, no matter how different, ultimately led to the same truth. Some paths, when taken to their end, might hold wonders beyond even the most advanced Daoist arts and divine powers.

Yet, “reaching the end” of any path was likely more difficult than a demon taking human form, more difficult than a spirit becoming a god, and more difficult than a cultivator achieving profound Daoist skills.

After a long time, the qin’s melody gradually faded. But its lingering notes still echoed across the river.

The woman rested her hands on the qin strings, and everything instantly became quiet. She was in no rush. After a moment, she turned to look at the Daoist and the calico cat, whose tail was swaying as she lay on the Daoist's lap. The woman smiled softly, “The bond between you and Lady Calico is truly enviable.”

“Time naturally deepens affection.”

“How did you come to know her, Daoist Master?”

“Fate, I suppose...”

Having been warmly invited here, greeted at the door, and served fruit and pastries, with a qin melody played to set the mood, the Daoist naturally felt grateful. So, bit by bit, he began recounting the story of how he first met Lady Calico, carefully sharing every detail.

As he spoke, he would occasionally smile slightly.

Meanwhile, the cat on his lap had a blank expression, her ears perked up as she listened intently. It was as if she were hearing someone else's story, or perhaps she couldn’t believe how distant the past seemed now, nor how much things had changed since then.

The woman rested her chin on her hand, listening attentively. Every now and then, she glanced at the calico cat as the Daoist spoke. When he finished, she smiled faintly and said, “Lady Calico has certainly been through a lot.”

“Life is full of hardship.”

Lady Calico had always been quite capable. Even without being worshiped as a deity, she could have lived quite well hunting in the fields and forests. It was only because she helped people by catching mice and warding off disaster that she followed the path of Divine Dao.

Who would’ve thought it would bring her misfortune instead? Just thinking about it made one sigh.

“There’s a fishing rod on the boat. Would you like to try fishing, Daoist Master?”

“My skills are poor. Nine times out of ten, I catch nothing.”

“Then let’s forget it.”

“You seem a bit tired,” Song You remarked, looking closely at the woman's face.

“You see right through me, Daoist.”

The woman, stunningly beautiful with an air of languid elegance, leaned back with her posture utterly relaxed. She spoke softly, “His Majesty is growing older, the prince is growing older, and the princess is becoming restless. She’s been pushing me more and more.”

“I see.”

“But perhaps this is for the best.” The woman shook her head. “Whether things succeed or fail, I’ll soon be free of it all.”

“Won’t the princess trouble you elsewhere?”

The woman said with a smile, “The princess and I already have an agreement. I’ll hand over the silver earned from Hexian Pavilion and tell her everything I hear there, and that will count as repaying my debt. I won’t be involved in anything else.

“Besides, these are human matters. Using demons for trivial tasks is one thing, but if they truly tried to seize power using spirits or demons, the Heavenly Palace and Daoists of the world would never allow it. In any case, whether it succeeds or not, in a few years at most, I’ll leave Changjing behind.”

This woman, with every smile and gesture, exuded an irresistible charm. So much so that even the Daoist found himself wondering...

The records in Hidden Dragon Temple clearly state that fox demons were celestial beings among demons, with the nine-tailed fox being a well-known ancient auspicious creature. Most fox demons were mischievous and lively by nature, often engaging in strange antics.

It was only in the past two hundred years that people began associating fox demons with seduction, and tales of them enticing humans started circulating. But in truth, these were just rumors.

Could it be that such rumors, after being passed down for so long, had somehow become accepted as fact?

Though this thought crossed his mind, Song You spoke aloud, saying. “Demons live far longer than mortals, some even outlive entire dynasties. To you, the court disputes and political upheavals in Changjing over the past few years are likely just a brief scene in your long life. A hundred years from now, all of this will be nothing but fleeting smoke, and you will still be here, calmly watching the changes unfold.”

“I think so too,” the woman replied, stretching her neck. The motion didn’t quite match her usual beauty or elegant demeanor. “After all, I live long enough that repaying my debt over ten years doesn’t seem like a bad deal.”

“Indeed.” Song You observed her expression carefully.

“Then, when the time comes, I’ll 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.” She smiled.

“May you fulfill your wishes,” the Daoist replied politely, without elaborating further.

“However, there is something I’m curious about.” The woman suddenly looked at him, a look of inquiry on her face.

“Feel free to ask.”

“I’ve heard that Hidden Dragon Temple is the pinnacle of Daoism in the world, and its leaders throughout the ages have possessed divine abilities. But why have none of them ever attained immortality?”

“What do you consider to be immortality?”

“I once met the oldest demon I’ve ever seen. They had lived for more than two thousand years—so long that there wasn’t even a calendar back then, and no one knew exactly how old they were. I’ve heard that if one of my kind reaches nine tails, we can also live for over a thousand years.”

The woman didn’t speak in grand terms like Prefect Yu had about living as long as the heavens or the sun, but gave a more practical answer. “So, let’s say a thousand years qualifies as long.”

“That demon must have been transformed from an ancient tree.”

“Yes, a willow tree from the north.”

“Longevity is undoubtedly good,” the Daoist finally answered. “But our monastery has never sought immortality. We pass down our teachings from master to disciple, and each generation is raised by the one before. This belief has been passed down in this way.”

“Were there no exceptions?”

“There were naturally some who were more obsessed with immortality, and indeed, some even pursued it. But they eventually gave up.”

“Oh?” The woman’s interest seemed piqued. She focused on him, asking, “What could possibly make someone give up on immortality?”

Now, that was the heart of the matter.

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