Unintended Immortality-Chapter 353: A Coincidence

The guqin melody from Hexian Pavilion today was unlike anything the literati and elites of Changjing had ever heard before.

Not just the tune, but the style itself was unique.

Many had gathered here to visit the guqin fairy, who was rumored to be gravely ill. They had come with worry and sorrow in their hearts. Yet, as the music flowed, they found themselves unexpectedly uplifted. It was the winter solstice, and the streets of Changjing had been pelted with icy rain and snow, chilling to the bone. Yet, the listeners now felt as though they were basking in the gentle sunlight of early spring.

For the literati, prone to melancholy over fleeting spring or autumn, and for those in Changjing burdened by unfulfilled aspirations and frustration, the music brought an inexplicable sense of ease.

Miss Wanjiang rarely played such pieces.

Even among her repertoire, not every tune had the same ability to penetrate so deeply into the listener’s heart.

The audience, puzzled yet captivated, floated between confusion and intoxication.

It was a bliss so profound, even immortality could not compare.

Amid the music, bonds of camaraderie stirred. Some of the attendees, realizing the rarity of this moment, quickly stepped outside during brief interludes in the melody to send messengers. They hurriedly invited friends and acquaintances who shared their love of guqin music, urging them to come to Hexian Pavilion to hear Miss Wanjiang perform.

As word spread, an increasing number of people flocked to the pavilion.

Gradually, someone noticed something strange.

Unnoticed by most, the bitter winds that had scoured the streets of Changjing had ceased. The sleet and snow that had been falling from the skies had stopped as well. Even the dull, gray sky seemed to have been swept clean by invisible hands, revealing a canopy of sky that shifted between blue and green.

Sunlight spilled onto the streets of Changjing, and even those who weren’t near the pavilion or couldn’t hear the music felt the rare warmth of winter.

Suddenly, a twang sounded. It was the sharp sound of a guqin string snapping.

The audience, previously lost in the music, reacted as if startled birds fleeing a hunter’s bow. It was as though they had been rudely pulled out of the dreamlike worlds they had constructed for themselves, left now in a state of shock and disorientation.

Miss Wanjiang had never broken a guqin string before.

The crowd had yet to recover from their daze. Some stared blankly at the curtain leading to the rear courtyard, while others tilted their heads upward to look at the wooden ceiling above.

Whispers spread; brows furrowed.

A few regular visitors, confident in their familiarity with Hexian Pavilion and accustomed to listening to music on the second floor, made a move to go upstairs and investigate, but they were stopped.

After a long silence, the sound of footsteps came from the staircase.

The creaking of the wooden steps was unmistakable.

The crowd immediately quieted, their gazes fixed on the stairs. The grand hall fell so silent that one could hear a pin drop.

“Swish...”

The curtain was lifted.

A delicate young maid emerged, her posture slightly bent and her head bowed as she hurried out. When she raised her head and locked eyes with the crowd, her expression sent a jolt through everyone.

Her eyes were rimmed red and brimming with tears. Her lips quivered as she tried to speak, her face etched with profound sorrow.

“Mistress is gravely ill... She has passed away.”

“...”

The hall remained deathly silent. Everyone froze in stunned disbelief.

After a long pause, someone finally spoke.

“What? You...”

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

“Exactly! How could that be?”

“Miss Wanjiang was just upstairs hosting guests and playing the guqin moments ago! The melody was divine, like music from the heavens. How could there suddenly be such terrible news?!”

“You foolish maid! Don’t speak recklessly!”

“Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”

“Earlier, when I heard Miss Wanjiang play the guqin,” someone named Yan spoke up, “the joy in her music was genuine—it couldn't possibly be faked. It clearly showed her illness was improving. Even if... even if her condition worsened, how could she have been playing so freely just moments ago, only to suddenly pass away like this?”

The crowd erupted, all glaring at the maid.

“Earlier...” The maid tried to suppress her grief as she explained, “Earlier, Mistress only borrowed three moments of freedom from the heavens...”

“...”

The crowd was stunned into silence once more.

So that Daoist who had gone upstairs earlier—he had petitioned the heavens to grant her those three moments of freedom.

There was no arguing with this revelation.

The crowd surged forward, pushing past the maid and heading upstairs. Though several strong workers tried to block their way, they managed to reach the second floor. Peering through the sheer white curtains, they could vaguely make out the room beyond.

In the center was a table with the guqin placed upon it, and in front of it, the fallen figure of a woman. Her white robes spread out across the floor, her beauty undiminished, even in death.

Countless people broke into wails of grief.

The world had truly lost Miss Wanjiang.

For the music lovers of Changjing and those who cherished the sound of the guqin above all else, there would never again be such divine music to hear.

***

Meanwhile, the Daoist continued to walk down the street, holding the hand of the little girl.

Today, Lady Calico was particularly rebellious. At times, she would suddenly tug hard and dash forward; at others, she would stop dead in her tracks, refusing to move. She stared curiously at the roadside, even reaching out to poke at the goods being sold by street vendors.

Yet, whenever Song You pulled her back, she would tilt her head up and fix him with her clear, innocent eyes, her expression both clueless and endearing. How could he possibly scold her?

“Lady Calico, are you drunk?”

“What does being drunk mean?”

“It means when people drink alcohol, they feel dizzy and excited, and they start doing things they normally wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t drink alcohol.”

“Rice wine has a little alcohol in it too.”

“A little alcohol!” she declared firmly.

“But you didn’t know when to stop. You drank bowl after bowl.”

“It’s sweet! Like porridge soup!”

“Which is why you’re drunk.”

“I’m not dizzy.”

“But you’re excited.”

“I’m not excited.”

“Then behave yourself, come home with me, and stop running around.”

“Cats are just like this!”

“...”

“Daoist priest, look! The sun’s out!”

“...”

Song You stopped in his tracks and looked up at the sky.

As if sensing something, he lowered his head and met the little girl’s eyes. In a quiet voice, he said, “Now you’ve not only witnessed the unparalleled, divine guqin artistry of Changjing but also seen the disappearance of that very art from Changjing.”

“Disappearance!”

“You will understand someday.”

“Daoist priest, look! That little boy over there is peeing!”

“Let’s go...”

“Let’s go see him!”

“...”

The Daoist said nothing, only tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her along as they started walking again.

They had barely taken two steps when a woman’s voice called out from behind them.

“Mr. Song?”

Song You turned, along with the little girl he was holding. The voice belonged to a plainly dressed woman whose face was unfamiliar.

Still, since she had called his name, Song You naturally turned fully to face her. However, holding Lady Calico posed a challenge—he couldn’t let her circle around him freely, as cats were unpredictable creatures. He dared not let go of her hand either, for fear she’d dart off to watch the little boy relieving himself.

After a series of careful movements, he finally managed to turn around and switch her hand to his other one.

“Madam, you are...?”

“Mr. Song, have you forgotten? Years ago, my child was gravely ill. We thought he was possessed and came to see you for help. Not only did you assure us it wasn’t possession, but you also directed us to a medical clinic, and you didn’t charge us a single wen,” the woman explained.

She couldn’t help bowing deeply and cupping her hands in gratitude. “You truly have the heart of a divine immortal. Thanks to you, my child’s life was saved.”

“Ah...” Song You remembered.

At the time, this woman had indeed come to him carrying her sick child. It had been nothing more than a common cold and fever, but in these times, when shamanic rituals and medicine were often intertwined, illnesses and so-called evil possessions were difficult to distinguish.

Ignorant of the truth, she had sought him out to drive away the “evil spirit.” Song You had instead referred her to Jishi Hall, a clinic established by one of Doctor Cai’s students. Later, she had brought eggs as thanks.

It wasn’t that Song You was forgetful; it was just that three years had passed—a significant amount of time for impoverished people like her. Life's hardships had changed her appearance considerably.

“I remember now,” he said.

“Afterward, my child’s health remained frail. We consulted a wandering fortune-teller in the street, who said the problem lay in his name. Since you’re an immortal master, I wanted to bring my child back to see you and ask you to give him a new name. But by the time we arrived, you had already closed down your business.”

Song You stood before her, listening attentively.

In those days, asking Daoists or monks to name children was a common practice. For poor families lacking education, Daoists and monks were seen as more learned. For the wealthy and powerful, they sought renowned masters or monks to provide auspicious names believed to bring peace and good fortune.

“We were traveling,” he explained.

“So you’ve finally returned,” she said with relief.

The little girl held tightly by Song You’s hand couldn’t run off, but she turned her head to stare intently at a child standing against the wall with his back to her.

“Did you end up changing the name?” Song You asked.

“We later went to Qingxiao Temple in Donghe County and asked the elder Daoist there to give him a new name. Originally, we’d chosen a single-character name, An, which means peace, hoping for safety. But the fortune-teller said that while our intention was good, single-character names are too weighty. For ordinary folk like us, they’re too much to bear.

He suggested we switch to a two-character name. The elder Daoist gave him the name Qiu Ning, which means seeking peace. Since then, though my child still gets minor illnesses, we haven’t experienced the terrifying incidents of before.”

“We’ve heard of the elder Daoist of Qingxiao Temple in Donghe County. He’s renowned for his virtue and cultivation. A name chosen by him is unlikely to be anything but excellent.”

Song You didn’t comment on whether changing a name truly worked. However, if the purpose was simply to bring good fortune, asking an elder Daoist—one of modest cultivation yet willing to take risks to dispel evil for the people—to provide a name was undoubtedly as auspicious as it could get.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the street.

The child who had been relieving himself at the corner came running over, quickly wrapping his arms around the woman’s leg for support. He glanced nervously at the Daoist and the little girl.

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“This is my child!” the woman said. “This is the immortal master who saved your life! Hurry and greet the immortal master!”

“...”

“Greet him! Say it!”

“Greetings, Immortal Master...” the little boy said timidly.

“He’s already so big! Children grow so fast,” Song You said with a smile, nodding politely to the boy. “Greetings.”

“Children do grow quickly,” the woman replied.

“Speaking of which—” Song You suddenly recalled Jishi Hall, the clinic he had referred the woman to, and Dr. Chen, who regularly held free consultations there. He remembered that Dr. Chen was a student of the renowned Dr. Cai.

Years later, while in Hezhou, Song You had coincidentally met Dr. Cai and spoken of his student. Dr. Cai had mentioned that he had condensed a lifetime of medical knowledge into Doctor Cai’s Medical Canon. After numerous hardships, he entrusted half of the manuscript to Dr. Chen. This memory gave Song You a special reason to ask.

“The one who cured your son was Dr. Chen from Jishi Hall, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“How is Dr. Chen doing these days?”

“Well...” The woman hesitated, then sighed heavily. “A couple of years ago, Jishi Hall caught fire for reasons no one knows. Although Dr. Chen wasn’t injured, the entire clinic burned to the ground. Most of his life’s savings were tied up in the medicines stored there, and everything was destroyed.

“I heard there were some important items that also went up in flames. Afterward, Dr. Chen became deeply depressed and regretful, grew frail quickly, and last year, he fell ill and never recovered.”

“How could such a thing happen?”

“Who knows? Good people really don’t get rewarded! Dr. Chen had been kind for so many years, saving countless lives. When Jishi Hall caught fire, all the neighbors came out to help, even the fire brigade and constables from the local yamen.

“Everyone respected Dr. Chen’s character so much that no one dared pocket any of the silver they found in the ashes. And yet, after all that effort, they only recovered less than a hundred taels—his entire life’s savings...” She sighed bitterly. “Where can you find someone as good as him? This cursed heaven! It really must be blind!”

“I see...” Song You murmured, his tone heavy.

Song You’s expression grew heavy, deep in thought.

“Where are you headed, sir?” the woman asked.

“Just on my way home.”

“We’re out shopping. The new year is approaching, so I’m buying some fabric to make a new outfit for the child. He’s growing so fast that clothes don’t last long.”

“Then, madam, I won’t keep you.”

“And you as well, sir...”

With that, the Daoist bid her farewell and tugged at the hand of the little girl, who was leaning forward, inquisitively asking the boy why he didn’t bury the spot where he relieved himself. Lost in thought, Song You continued on his way home.

The little girl, sensing his mood, grew obedient and quiet.