Unintended Immortality
Chapter 547: Monsters in the Mountains

Chapter 547: Monsters in the Mountains

“Oh? Mr. Song, you’re not afraid?”

“I have never feared ghosts or monsters.”

“So, you truly have real Daoist skills.” Zhang Wangchuan smiled, his demeanor refined and composed. “However, the monsters in this region are not so easily dealt with. Some of them are powerful enough that even we, as imperial officials accustomed to traveling these lands, must avoid them.”

“How so?”

“This must be your first time here, I assume?”

“My first time in my life.”

“You have quite the courage, Mr. Song!”

Zhang Wangchuan chuckled, then inquired about Song You’s journey—where he had come from and where he was headed. Once he confirmed they were traveling the same way, he said, “I am a believer in the Dao. It’s rare to encounter a fellow Daoist from Great Yan in these lands. Why not travel with us for a while? It would be good to have company on the road.”

“I still need to take my midday nap.”

“We could use a break as well. Our horses need to graze.”

“Then that works out perfectly.”

Song You smiled slightly and did not refuse.

The Imperial Censor and Embroidered-Clad Lieutenant took a seat under the tree, while his two guards and the young scholar loosened the horses’ reins, letting them graze. At the same time, they kept watch to ensure the animals didn’t stray into the fields and ruin the farmers' rapeseed crops.

Song You leaned back against the tree again, half-closing his eyes. A single branch with green leaves swayed before him, while Zhang Wangchuan’s voice drifted into his ears.

“This place is indeed pleasant. We have good scenery, good sunlight, and a gentle breeze here. Only a Daoist would think to enjoy it properly,” Zhang Wangchuan mused. “If not for the many monsters lurking about, it would be a truly wonderful place.”

“Don’t you fear monsters?”

“They are merely monsters—what is there to fear?” Zhang Wangchuan replied calmly. “The imperial court sent us here knowing full well we would be walking into treacherous lands, facing blades, fire, and untamed wilderness. If we were afraid, we wouldn’t have come in the first place.”

He paused, then added, “Besides, when we travel on behalf of the court, we carry the weight of the entire Great Yan empire. Our swords hang at our waists, and our mission is clear. No matter if they are demons or foreign invaders, if they dare to cause trouble, they shall be cut down where they stand, their blood spilling within five steps.”

His words carried undeniable authority.

Song You nodded slightly.

In this era, imperial envoys were often skilled in both diplomacy and combat. They were eloquent, courageous, and among the most remarkable figures of their time.

“Have you encountered many monsters?”

“A fair few. Even the most vicious monsters in these lands rarely attack travelers outright. They do not dare seize people in broad daylight. Instead, they take human form and use deceit to lure their victims away. Some lead people into traps or caves; others misdirect travelers so they lose their way in the mountains and never reach their destination by nightfall.”

Zhang Wangchuan shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“But the monsters here are terribly foolish. Whenever they transform into human form and attempt to trick Great Yan people, their accents are strange—worse than the monkey birds. And yet, they always insist on disguising themselves as people from Great Yan. It makes them laughably easy to spot.”

As he spoke, Zhang Wangchuan and his men laughed.

“Mr. Song need not worry, we are certainly human,” Zhang Wangchuan reassured him with a smile, fearing he might be uneasy. “Even if monsters lurk in these lands, none would dare take the form of an imperial officer of Great Yan. Otherwise, by dawn, an army of twenty thousand from Gu City[1] would sweep the mountains clean.”

“I, too, am human,” Song You replied.

“I figured as much. This region has never seen a Daoist priest before, so those monsters wouldn’t even know how to transform into one.”

As he spoke, Zhang Wangchuan glanced at the horse beside Song You—one without a bridle, nor any signs of ever having borne a saddle. His gaze then shifted to the calico cat peeking at them from behind the tall grass. The cat’s watchful stare made it clear that this Daoist was no ordinary traveler. Just how skilled he was, however, remained to be seen.

“Mr. Song, have you ever heard of the Great Yan army’s expedition against the Weilan Kingdom?”

“I believe I have,” Song You said, furrowing his brows as he tried to recall. “That was over a hundred years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Precisely!” Zhang Wangchuan seemed pleased. He then asked, “But do you know why, after utterly crushing Weilan, not a single soldier returned to the capital to claim rewards and titles?”

“That, I do not know.”

At that moment, the cat leaped gracefully from the grass. Her movements were light and agile, no different from an ordinary feline. She curiously examined her Daoist companion before turning her wide eyes to the unfamiliar men speaking with him. Then, cautiously, she approached and lay down beside Song You, watching them with a mix of wariness and curiosity. She remained quiet and well-behaved.

Song You reached out and gently stroked her back.

As he did, the cat’s face slowly puffed up and grew rounder, taking on an amusingly bloated shape. Yet, she remained completely unaware and unbothered by it.

“A hundred years ago, the Great General of Anxi presented the imperial court with rare treasures from the Western Regions. The emperor was delighted but soon grew suspicious. If such treasures came from the Western Regions, why had the foreign states never offered them as tribute?

“Thus, the emperor dispatched an envoy to investigate. It was then discovered that the vassal states had, in fact, been offering these treasures every year—only for them to be intercepted by the Weilan Kingdom’s soldiers.

“The emperor flew into a rage. Despite Weilan being ten thousand li away from the capital, he overruled all opposition and ordered an expedition against them.”

Zhang Wangchuan paused briefly before continuing, “As the imperial army approached, the Weilan king, fearing annihilation, pleaded for mercy. He surrendered all the stolen treasures and promised to send tribute to Great Yan every year.

“But the commanding general refused his surrender. Instead, he let his soldiers massacre the entire capital, capturing thousands of prisoners and taking the treasures back in triumph.

“As they prepared to return, a mystic warned the general. He told him that his actions were too ruthless and that he had stolen too many riches. Worse still, there was a great demon along their route—one that coveted rare treasures. The mystic warned that calamity would befall them on their way home.

“But the general scoffed at the warning. He was confident in his vast army, boasting that even an immortal would not escape their blades, let alone a mere demon.

“However, after traveling only a few hundred li, the skies suddenly darkened. A violent storm erupted, turning a clear day into chaos. The wind howled, snowflakes as large as bird wings fell, and lightning struck as thick as water vats.

“The storm was so fierce that it lifted water from a lake, instantly freezing it midair, only to shatter the ice into deadly shards.

“For half a day, the blizzard raged. By the time it ended, forty thousand soldiers lay frozen to death—transformed into ice statues standing eternally amidst the mountains, never to find peace.”

Zhang Wangchuan recounted the tale with growing intensity.

In the early parts of the story, a sense of imperial grandeur swelled within him. The sheer vastness of Great Yan’s dominion was unmatched—so great that many could hardly fathom the distance to Weilan. No previous dynasty had ever reached so far, nor even conceived of it.

If future dynasties failed to inherit Great Yan’s strength and ambition, they would never again set foot in Weilan’s lands.

And yet, with a single decree from the emperor, Great Yan's army had marched across the continent. The moment they arrived, Weilan had surrendered.

Now, Weilan was but a vassal state of Great Yan, with three thousand iron-clad soldiers stationed within its capital to maintain order.

But as Zhang Wangchuan recounted the latter half of the tale, he couldn't help but sigh helplessly.

After listening, Song You couldn't help but ask, “Don't tell me... it's right here?”

“Not too far off,” Zhang Wangchuan replied. He turned his head toward the distance, raised a hand, and pointed, his expression tinged with lament. “It's just beyond that mountain. The original path used to run east, passing through there. But ever since that incident, neither the people of the Western Regions nor the people of Great Yan dare take that route. They carved out an entirely new road instead.”

Song You followed his gesture, gazing into the distance.

That direction led to Mount Tian, their peaks still capped with snow even in summer.

The road ahead of him stretched toward that direction, but before reaching the mountain, it veered left. However, a separate path—more direct—led precisely to the area Zhang Wangchuan had pointed out.

“That path has been abandoned for over a hundred years,” Zhang Wangchuan continued. “Yet, Mr. Song, do you know why it has never been overtaken by weeds?”

“I would appreciate your insight,” Song You replied.

“It is because the mountain is teeming with monsters. They often descend using that very road. And because the soldiers who perished there never found peace, many of their spirits have turned into ghosts. They, too, wander down that road from time to time.”

“Has the imperial court never sent people to bury them?”

“The court once dispatched two imperial envoys to investigate. But when they arrived, they were so terrified that they fled in panic.”

“I see,” Song You murmured, letting out a sigh.

Zhang Wangchuan quietly observed him.

The cat beside the Daoist had shrunk back, pressing against him. Her once sleek face had swollen into a lumpy shape, yet she remained utterly still, behaving with uncharacteristic obedience. No longer did she seem interested in chasing bees for fun.

“As someone who travels the world, it seems only right that I should go take a look,” Song You said, his eyes half-closed.

“Do you have the courage for it?”

“Let me sleep first, and then we'll see.”

The long journey had been exhausting. With the gentle sunlight and the peaceful surroundings, drowsiness overtook him. Song You lay back on the ground, his mind free of wandering thoughts. He closed his eyes, and soon, he was fast asleep.

When he opened them again, it was already late afternoon.

Zhang Wangchuan’s two armed attendants and the young scholar were busy fastening the carriage to the horses once more, preparing for departure.

Seeing that Song You had just awoken, one of them raised his brows in surprise before quickly approaching to apologize.

He explained that since Song You had been sleeping so soundly, they hadn’t had the heart to wake him. Several times, they had intended to rouse him, but each time, his cat had stopped them, scaring them off.

However, with the sun steadily sinking in the sky and a long road ahead, they could not delay much longer. If they failed to reach the next post station before nightfall, when ghosts and monsters roamed freely, even they might find themselves in danger.

Thus, they had no choice but to prepare for an early departure.

Since Song You had just woken up, Zhang Wangchuan extended another invitation for him to travel together.

Song You rubbed his eyes and got up immediately.

The group remained the same: a single horse-drawn carriage, two mounted attendants, and a young official driving the cart. But now, a Daoist priest, an unbridled jujube-red horse, a calico cat, and a lone swallow soaring in the sky had joined them. Zhang Wangchuan dismounted, choosing to walk alongside the Daoist.

Slowly, they approached a fork in the road.

Without realizing it, the two attendants on horseback and the young official driving the carriage all began to slow down.

The Daoist, however, came to a complete stop.

The fork split in two directions through vast golden fields of rapeseed flowers—one road was the well-traveled modern route, its surface worn with the deep grooves of wagon wheels. The other was the ancient path from a hundred years ago, rarely used by anyone except wandering ghosts and demons, with hardly a trace of carriage tracks.

Song You smiled slightly and turned to Zhang Wangchuan. “I have a fondness for the strange and unusual. I think I’ll take this road.”

Zhang Wangchuan froze at once. “Sir, you must be joking! That way is dangerous!”

“I have never feared ghosts or demons.”

Song You cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, repeating the same words as before.

“I thought the same,” Zhang Wangchuan hurriedly tried to dissuade him. “But the monsters lurking in those mountains are far beyond human strength to resist. Sir, you should take the proper road instead.”

“My mind is made up,” Song You replied calmly. Then, still looking at Zhang Wangchuan, he asked, “Would you care to join me?”

“Hm?” Zhang Wangchuan was momentarily stunned, scrutinizing him carefully.

After a pause, he let out a sigh and waved a hand. “Fine.”

And so, a single swaying carriage, two armed attendants, one Daoist priest and one court official, a heavily laden jujube-red horse, and a quiet little cat slowly made their way onto the ancient path.

The mountains loomed ever closer. The setting sun had already turned golden.

1. Gu 谷 here refers to valley. ☜