Unintended Immortality

“Daoist Master, you have quite the skill.” Heroine Wu squinted her eyes, staring at the figure gradually being burned to nothing, leaving only his clothes behind. She chuckled, “I’ve heard that many extraordinary people in the jianghu spend their whole lives mastering just one or two skills, while the high achievers in palaces and temples usually only learn three to five. Yet you, Daoist Master, are so young and already possess so many spells.”

“It’s just a few minor tricks, not worth mentioning.”

“What about these five?” Heroine Wu turned her gaze to the remaining five jianghu men.

“Hey, you…” The Daoist looked at them, paused for a moment, and asked, “Have you ever killed any innocent people?”

The wind rustled, but no one answered.

The five jianghu men were frozen in place; some turned their eyes this way, catching glimpses with their peripheral vision, while others looked away, unable to see what was happening here. Yet they could hear the sounds, and from the sounds, they understood what was transpiring and the Daoist's abilities.

At this moment, upon hearing the Daoist’s question, their hearts were filled with extreme fear. Fear, anxiety, and regret churned within them.

At times, they felt they were facing a divine immortal; at others, they recalled the innocent lives they had recklessly taken, believing that their retribution had finally arrived, leading to an even deeper sense of dread and remorse.

Their hearts were in chaos, burning as if on fire.

Immediately, flames erupted from the bodies of three of them.

However, unlike the first victim, these three could not move or make a sound; they simply stood there like wooden stakes, reduced to ashes. What the other two were thinking remained unknown.

“What kind of technique is this?”

“The fire element spell.”

“So impressive!”

“It's not that impressive,” the Daoist explained calmly. “The first person that the heroine brought back was already terrified and filled with unease. He was fearful and suspicious, and upon my provoking of his regret, it was easy for the heart fire to consume him and turn him to ash. The next three, upon witnessing that person’s fate, felt the same anxiety and fear. The fire ignited from their own hearts, not from my hands.”

“What about these last two?”

The heroine turned her attention to the remaining two.

“The Daoist should not create more killings; I am not one who enjoys slaughter. Besides those who openly bear malice toward me, I do not take the lives of others,” the Daoist said patiently. “These two have managed to evade my questioning, so they likely haven’t killed any innocents. However, since they are also part of the Five Heroes of Angzhou, they cannot be considered good people. Let’s leave them here.”

“How long?”

“For one day and night.”

“How interesting.”

Though there were people here, they were still high in the mountains.

During the day, it might be safe, but at night, there were wolves. Moreover, with so many jianghu people gathered in these mountains, surviving a day and a night in this place would be no easy feat, yet it wouldn’t be impossible either.

It seemed like a test of fortune was in order.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, a muffled sound rumbled overhead. The girl and the woman both looked up.

“It’s going to rain,” the Daoist said to them.

The girl blinked her eyes, and the woman frowned.

“That won’t do; my divine steed cannot get wet. If it rains, it might fall ill.” Heroine Wu pointed ahead. “I remember there’s a pavilion by the roadside where we can take shelter from the rain.”

“Let’s go.”

“Are you coming too?”

“Of course.”

“Aren’t you in a hurry to descend the mountain?”

“I’m not in a hurry.”

“Some jianghu people are reckless and would give up their lives for treasures.”

“Exactly, it’s a good chance to observe.” The Daoist took the lead and began to walk.

The mountain wind rushed toward them, causing their robes to flutter and their hair to dance in the breeze. The grass and bushes along the path bent low, and looking out over the mountains, it was a vast and spectacular sight.

Indeed, there were many jianghu people in the mountains. As they walked along, they encountered countless figures, both visible and hidden.

Some jianghu people, seeing the Daoist, offered a mix of courtesy and deception. They introduced themselves and asked questions before making any decisions. Whether to engage in combat or to establish rules for a duel varied among them.

Others, confident in their abilities, drew their blades without a word.

Some hid in the shadows, preparing their hidden arrows.

Some, seeing that the Daoist man possessed great skills, dared not approach. They took a few glances and then quietly slipped away, not knowing where they went.

Different choices inevitably led to different outcomes. Gradually, they spotted the pavilion that the heroine had mentioned.

Though it was halfway up the mountain, it jutted out over a cliff, built by some cultured individual. It was the perfect place for enjoying the scenery.

The three people and the horse entered the pavilion first.

Before long, the rain began to fall. It came down heavily and suddenly.

The Daoist sat calmly in the pavilion, neither annoyed by the earlier disturbances from the jianghu people nor troubled by having burned seven or eight individuals. He seemed entirely unfazed.

Looking out from the pavilion, each raindrop appeared like a short streak, hanging all over the air between heaven and earth.

The rain pattered on the leaves and struck the pavilion roof, creating a symphony of different sounds.

There was a constant thick mist in the mountains, and when the heavy rain poured down, it rose like vapor and enveloped the layers of green mountains in a semi-transparent veil. The already beautiful scenery transformed into a scene from a landscape painting.

The jianghu people began to arrive at this location one after another.

Perhaps some knew about the pavilion and came to seek shelter from the rain, while others, having heard from those who slipped away, gathered specifically to seek treasures.

However, no one acted rashly; they stood outside the pavilion, getting drenched in the rain while staring intently at the people inside.

Gradually, more and more gathered. What began as a dozen turned into twenty, then from twenty to thirty or forty, eventually growing to nearly a hundred, perhaps even more.

They continued to multiply.

Some came alone, while others arrived in groups of three or five. Some stood scattered along the front path and halfway up the slope, while others clustered together, forming a dense, dark mass in the heavy rain.

The jianghu people each wielded different weapons—knives, spears, swords, halberds, axes, hooks, and forks; they had it all.

Not only were their weapons diverse, but their attire varied as well. Some dressed well, while others looked disheveled; some wore straw raincoats, others sported bamboo hats. Some stood in the rain, their hair soaking and clumping together.

Faintly, the sound of galloping horses could be heard from below the mountain, indicating that someone was hastily rushing over after hearing the news. It truly highlighted the immense allure of this legendary masterpiece.

These jianghu people either stood alone and clutched their weapons as they stared at the Daoist and the woman in the pavilion, or they huddled together and whispered, though their voices were drowned out by the heavy rain. The multitude of gazes and weapons converged, creating a rare atmosphere of tension, mingled with the din of the downpour.

Inside the pavilion, the seated and standing figure spoke quietly to each other.

“There must be two or three hundred people out there.”

“Hmm…”

“With so many, not just me—if we called in Shu Yifan and Lin Dehai together, we still might not hold them back. It’ll be up to you, Daoist Master; if you can’t manage, I won’t be of any help.”

“Thank you, heroine.”

The seated Daoist remained unhurried, enjoying the rain and observing the jianghu people, a smile creeping onto his lips. “What do you think, heroine…?”

“What?”

“Doesn’t this feel like the Great Liujiang Gathering back in the day?”

“…” Heroine Wu looked up and examined the scene carefully before replying with a smile, “There were many more people at the Great Liujiang Gathering than here, but I do see quite a few skilled individuals from the jianghu.” n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The Daoist did not respond further.

At that moment, someone stepped forward from the crowd.

It was an older jianghu man with graying hair and a beard, wearing a bamboo hat. He raised his voice and called out, “Daoist Elder inside, I am Ling Yun. Greetings.”

As he spoke, he cupped his hands in greeting.

“Ling Yun, formerly of the Jindao Sect. He now roams in Changjing, known by the nickname ‘No Mercy.’ A few years ago, he served as a guest in the household of the Minister of Rites. I wonder if he came here on his own or was sent on a secret mission from the minister to seek out the painting,” Heroine Wu whispered from the side.

“I’ve heard that your powers are formidable and your guards are skilled as well. But with so many of us, we are no pushovers! Since you possess such great cultivation skills, why bother contesting for treasure with us mortals?”

“Hey, he says I’m your guard.”

“I’m Guan Shouji.” A slightly overweight middle-aged man stepped forward. “Elder Ling’s words make sense. Since you’re a master, why risk your life’s cultivation fighting over treasure with us? Losing would ruin your cultivation, winning would only invite a life of being hunted down—either way, it’s a loss,” he stated.

“He’s Guan Shouji from Yizhou; we are fellow townsmen. I don’t know which sect he’s from, but he has a brother named Guan Meiqi. His brother has been in Changjing for many years and is quite particular about his work.”

Another similarly stout middle-aged man stepped forward. “I’ve heard that you just introduced yourself as being from Lingquan County in Yizhou, Daoist Elder? Hehe, although I haven’t visited your Yin-Yang Mountain or burned incense, I can still consider myself half a townsman. There’s really no need for us to come to blows, right, Daoist Elder?”

“That would be Guan Meiqi.”

“I’m Cui Fengji from Changzhou!” a young man stepped up, “I’m not trying to offend! No matter how great your cultivation skill is, you should consider that we have so many jianghu heroes gathered here, many of whom carry bows and arrows. Don't even mention hundreds of knives rushing at once. Even if they all drew their bows and shot arrows, you haven't attained immortality and might not be able to withstand it, Daoist Master!”

“Cui Fengji is a pseudonym; his real name is Cui Miao. He often hangs around the ghost market, pretending to be an expert fighter. He looks impressive, but those in the know realize he can’t even catch up with a dog.”

“I’m Xi Yishang, here to watch the show. I just wanted to say, please don’t accidentally harm me, Daoist Master.”

“Xi Yishang is from the legendary biggest jianghu sect, the Yunhe Sect. He’s from the Xi family. You must have seen his brother at the Great Liujiang Gathering before. The Yunhe Sect is stationed just outside Changjing and has numerous connections within Changjing and even at the court. Among so many people here, he’s the one you definitely shouldn’t provoke.”

Song You quietly watched the scene unfold.

He had heard Heroine Wu mention at the Great Liujiang Gathering that the Yunhe Sect was a disgrace to the jianghu. However, later during storytelling sessions, the narrators spoke highly of them, and the jianghu people in Changjing treated them with considerable respect.

When Xi Yishang suddenly declared his identity, it caused a stir among the crowd of jianghu people, who began to whisper and glance around.

Those further away, unable to hear Xi Yishang’s voice over the sound of the rain, quickly inquired with those in front. Upon learning that someone from the Yunhe Sect had also arrived, another wave of commotion ensued.

The commotion took a long time to settle down.

Finally, someone spoke to Song You, “I’ve heard that you are not a jianghu person, Daoist Elder? From my perspective, even if you are entrusted by someone to keep the item safe, there’s no need to be so persistent! At this moment, we are essentially coercing you. In life-and-death situations, you wouldn’t be breaking your promises! Please hand over what you have, and we will decide its fate.”

“Please hand over the painting, Daoist Elder!”

“You can freeze one person in place, but can you freeze several people at once? Can you freeze all of us, several hundred?”

“Hand over the painting, and consider it a purchase; we will gather some money to thank you. Once we leave, regardless of who the treasures belong to, everyone will agree to say we seized it from you, Daoist Elder. How about that?”

“Daoist Elder…”

Outside the pavilion, the wind and rain grew fiercer, and thunder rumbled. More and more jianghu people stepped forward, each contributing their thoughts. Some were urging, others pressing, some leaving room for negotiation, while others held sharp remarks—each exhibiting their own character. This, perhaps, was the essence of jianghu culture expressed through their words.

The Daoist listened, finding it all quite amusing.