Unintended Immortality-Chapter 450: Prosperous Yangdu

At Qingyun Temple...

Qinghuaizi sat cross-legged on the ground, holding a Daoist scripture in his hands. Wisps of pale blue smoke curled up from the bronze incense burner on the table beside him, carrying a calming fragrance. From outside the great hall, the faint sound of disciples chanting their evening scriptures drifted in, blending harmoniously with the soft and graceful Daoist music of Yangzhou, further soothing the heart and mind.

However, Qinghuaizi was not reading the scripture. Instead, he was contemplating the news he had gathered the previous day.

Yangzhou was a thriving hub of commerce, bustling with merchants from all directions. Temples and Daoist sanctuaries were places where all sorts of people converged, and there was no shortage of traders from Langzhou. With just a little inquiry, Qinghuaizi had learned something interesting.

About a month ago, at the border between Langzhou and Yangzhou, on Mount Jiurang, a grand sacrificial ceremony was held in honor of the Anle God. A Daoist and a young girl had attended the ritual. But after that day, the statue of the Anle God had shattered, half of the temple was destroyed, and a stone stele was left at the temple’s entrance, informing the villagers that the evil god had been vanquished.

Of the six livestock offerings, five were returned to their original owners. The mysterious master who had slain the evil god took only a single chicken and left without revealing his name.

Qinghuaizi couldn’t help but recall the Daoist he had met a few days ago.

That man had not displayed any extraordinary abilities, yet his words were calm and polite, his demeanor refined. Moreover, the young girl and the boy who accompanied him—upon closer thought, there was something unusual about them as well.

“...”

Could he be a celestial immortal descended from the Heavenly Palace? Or a hidden master from the mountains? Regardless of his identity, the mere fact that he eradicated an evil god without seeking fame or profit—taking nothing but a single chicken—was enough to command admiration.

Just then, a sudden gust of wind stirred outside the window.

Flap, flap, flap...

Qinghuaizi turned his head in confusion.

A swallow had flown to the window. It looked like any ordinary swallow, but beneath its claws, it clutched something.

Upon closer inspection, it was a small, egg-sized red fruit tied with a thin string. A regular swallow would never be able to carry something this heavy, yet this one bore it effortlessly.

The swallow hovered outside the window for a moment, its round, glossy black eyes scanning the room, lingering on Qinghuaizi’s face as if confirming his identity. After a brief pause, it finally flew inside.

“...”

Even though Qinghuaizi had already suspected something unusual, witnessing such an extraordinary scene firsthand still made him instinctively lean back slightly, momentarily wary.

Realizing his reaction, he quickly composed himself.

The swallow landed on the table. The red fruit dropped onto the surface as well, rolling two or three times before the taut string stopped it in place.

“Dare I ask...” Qinghuaizi looked at the swallow with apprehension.

The swallow, eyes wide open, met his gaze and, to his astonishment, spoke in human tongue, “Are you Daoist Qinghuaizi?”

“I am!”

“We met a few days ago, but... but I am rather dull-witted and can no longer recall your exact appearance clearly. I beg your pardon for that.” Compared to the time in Anqing, the swallow was now much more composed and natural when delivering a message.

“It’s fine, it’s fine...” Speaking with a bird while holding a Daoist scripture in his hands felt incredibly surreal to Qinghuaizi. However, as a Daoist practitioner, he remained composed and asked, “What brings the esteemed little Swallow Immortal here today?”

“It’s like this. Thanks to your guidance, my master recently visited Qiong Mountain. The scenery there is beautiful, the waters are clear, and the spiritual qi is abundant—he gained much from the trip. On that day, we were also warmly received by you, and my master has since remembered your kindness.”

The swallow spoke in one breath, though his tone sounded somewhat rehearsed. “Tomorrow, my master and I will be leaving. While exploring Qiong Mountain, we happened upon a spiritual fruit growing in a place rich in spiritual qi. My master picked a few and specifically asked me to bring one to you, as a token of gratitude.”

“How could I possibly accept such a fine gift...”

“Since I’ve delivered the fruit, I dare not overstay my visit. I take my leave, Daoist Master.”

“...”

Following the sequence he had practiced several times on his way here, the swallow finished speaking smoothly—without stumbling over his words or embarrassing his master. Then, without giving Qinghuaizi a chance to reply, he turned swiftly, flapped his wings, and darted out of the window.

The sky was still vast, the wind still free.

Qinghuaizi, on the other hand, immediately stood up, walked to the window, clasped his hands together in a respectful bow, and watched as the swallow disappeared into the distance. His eyes remained wide with wonder.

“As expected...”

As expected, it was truly a swallow.

Such refined speech and graceful manners—this could not be an ordinary mountain spirit. And considering that the swallow had manifested in divine form that day, he was likely the descendant of the Swallow Immortal.

Qinghuaizi kept watching until that tiny black dot in the sky completely vanished. Only then did he withdraw his gaze, hurry back to his seat, and carefully pick up the red fruit on the table.

The fruit was crystal-clear and translucent, exuding an extraordinary fragrance. Just smelling it filled him with a sense of deep comfort—like waking up from the most restful sleep, completely refreshed and full of energy. As he held it motionless in his hand and examined it closely, he noticed faint wisps of mist-like aura drifting from its surface, elusive and ethereal.

Its mystical nature was just as described in the ancient texts. Just as his senior brother had once said.

Qinghuaizi widened his eyes and murmured to himself, “It truly is a spiritual fruit...”

“That Daoist...”

He had initially wanted to remark that exchanging a pot of tea and a few plates of fruit for such a precious natural treasure was a huge gain for him. But after thinking carefully, he realized it was simply an exchange of goodwill—there was no need to dwell on it.

He had also wanted to say that the young boy from that day was indeed a descendant of the Swallow Immortal of Anqing, and that the Daoist must be an immortal as well. But after witnessing the Daoist’s character, he felt that whether or not the man was an immortal no longer mattered.

As he pondered, the fragrance of the fruit seemed to grow even richer. So, without further hesitation, he wiped it on his sleeve and placed it into his mouth.

The spiritual fruit had a refreshing taste—light as water upon first bite, yet leaving a lingering, long-lasting aftertaste.

***

One man, one cat, and one horse traveled along the official road. The swallow flitted about in the sky, darting left and right.

Song You did not take the water route but followed along the Qingnu River for most of the journey. The river remained in sight, which was convenient—it ensured they always had access to water.

Their journey took them east, straight toward Yangdu.

Yangdu was home to the Jile God, the only one of the five Land Gods enshrined within the city.

However, Song You did not head directly to Yangdu. Instead, he followed the Qingnu River, then the Daoliu River, making a half-circle around Yangzhou. Along the way, he first visited the southern Anyi God and then the eastern Ping’an God.

The Anyi God in the south was disciplined and dutiful. While he diligently gathered rare materials for the State Preceptor, he neither appeared recklessly to frighten the local people nor forcibly demanded incense offerings. Unlike the Anle God of Mount Jiurang, he did not consume live humans or require human sacrifices.

Because of this, though the State Preceptor had indeed taken precautions and sent a skilled folk expert to investigate and monitor him, once it was confirmed that the Anyi God had not overstepped his bounds, he was merely stripped of his divine title rather than exterminated.

The Ping’an God in the east, on the other hand, was much more violent—his misdeeds surpassed even those of the Anle God of Mount Jiurang.

By the time Song You arrived, the local gentry and powerful families were still plundering the common people, amassing wealth to offer as tribute to the Ping’an God. They even scoured the region for beautiful women to present as concubines.

Yet, after thorough investigation, Song You discovered that more than a year ago, the State Preceptor had enlisted an elder Daoist from Mount Zhen to eliminate the Ping’an God. The so-called Ping’an God that continued to instill fear in the eastern counties of Yangzhou—so much so that even local officials dared not speak out—was nothing more than the embodiment of human greed and unbridled desire.

Naturally, he left the matter in the hands of the commandery officials for justice.

By the time he finally arrived in Yangdu, winter had already set in. The Daoist had donned thick robes, leading his jujube-red horse at a leisurely pace toward the grand and bustling city.

For most cities—whether commandery seats or prefectural capitals—one had to first pass through the city walls and enter the gates before witnessing the lively streets within.

Even Yidu was like this.

But Yangdu, much like Changjing, was different.

One could already see the signs of its prosperity just by approaching it. Without even entering the city, the countryside was dotted with villages, and the official road was lined with shops, restaurants, carriage inns, and warehouses belonging to merchants transporting goods.

The road was built close to the riverbanks, where boats constantly sailed back and forth. Meanwhile, on the official road itself, carriages and pedestrians bustled ceaselessly, and travelers often stopped by the roadside to dine, drink, rest, or lodge for the night.

Steam from freshly cooked buns and boiling soup noodles stood out sharply against the winter air. The moment a pot lid was lifted, a thick cloud of steam surged upward, and with several stalls lined up together, the mist almost seemed to merge with the sky.

Tavern banners flapped wildly in the cold wind, their snapping sounds blending with the chatter, shouts, and bursts of laughter from patrons inside. Even before stepping into Yangdu, the liveliness here already surpassed that of most cities along the journey.

The bustling market towns stretched on for over ten li outside the city walls.

Even Song You couldn’t help but feel the pangs of hunger. He stopped at a stall to eat a steaming bowl of acorn noodles before continuing his journey along the official road.

At last, the towering walls of Yangdu came into view.

“Yangdu...” Song You stopped in his tracks, looking up as he murmured the name.

Beside him, the little cat also lifted her head, staring up at the city walls. After presenting their ordination certificates, they entered the city without trouble.

Inside, the scene was even more bustling—merchants from all over gathered, thousands of shops stood side by side, and prosperity stretched endlessly, like a dream.

“Meow...”

“Yeah, I know.”

Compared to Changjing, the imperial capital under the watchful eye of the emperor, Yangdu had far fewer restrictions, allowing it to be more ostentatious—more like a city dedicated to indulgence. Though it wasn’t close to Changjing, its extensive waterways made travel convenient.

Since the founding of the dynasty, countless officials, scholars, and nobles had visited this place to revel freely before eventually returning home. Some even squandered their wealth entirely, lingering in brothels until they were penniless.

As Song You walked, he took in the sights.

A thousand brothels, countless painted bridges—if not for the harsh winter, with the riverside willows still bare, this would have been a picturesque scene.

“Meow?”

The soft voice of his cat sounded beneath him.

Without stopping his pace, Song You glanced down and answered as if speaking to himself, “Let’s find an inn first.”

“Meow?”

“There’s no other choice. We’ve just arrived, we don’t know the area well, and we have no idea which place is best to stay in.” The Daoist leaned on his bamboo staff, speaking as he walked, unfazed by the curious glances of passersby.

He added, “So, we’ll stay at an inn for a few days, explore the city, and then find a housing broker to rent a house. Cooking for ourselves will be more convenient. The food here probably won’t suit your taste anyway.”

“Meow?”

“Lady Calico, we still have plenty of the money you earned.”

“Meow!”

“Honey is valuable, sure, but we don’t have much left. Better to save it for you to mix into your tea.”

“Mm...”

The little cat lowered her head and continued padding forward in small, quick steps, gracefully dodging the feet of passing pedestrians. Meanwhile, her amber eyes gleamed as she curiously took in the sights of the grand city.