Unintended Immortality-Chapter 368: The Marsh Dragon Beneath the Waters

Zi Commandery was incredibly remote.

Even though they were already in Fengzhou and getting closer to Zi Commandery as they headed south, asking for directions often proved futile. Most people had never even heard of Zi Commandery. Those who had only knew a vague direction, with no idea how to get there.

The roadsides lacked proper milestones or markers, too. This posed quite a challenge for the swallow.

Each time they needed directions, the bird agonized over the process, mentally calculating routes again and again. Every time it went to ask someone, it silently prayed for success on the first try.

Despite the difficulties, they slowly made their way toward Zi Commandery.

The land route was impassable, requiring a brief water journey instead.

Fortunately, the stretch of water travel was short—just a few dozen li downriver to reach Zi Commandery.

The maid once again summoned the coachman from the box, instructing him to take the carriage and horses along an alternate route to Yaozhou. Meanwhile, the group waited at the ferry dock for two days before finally finding a boatman willing to take them.

The fare for the trip totaled only a few dozen wen.

Song You brought his horse aboard, and they began their journey downriver.

The banks on either side of the Yin River were mostly low hills, thick with dense and unruly vegetation. The scenery was unimpressive, far less captivating than the picturesque views along the Liujiang River.

However, the Yin River itself was much wider and deeper than Liujiang. Its waters were a dark green, and on sunny days, the reflection of the sky made the river appear an even richer green and blue. When clouds were reflected on the surface, the view gained a certain charm.

Standing at the edge of the boat, Song You gazed into the water, lost in thought.

On his left stood a horse, quietly accompanying him, while on his right, a cat clung to the edge of the boat, gazing intently at the river below—not at the water, but at whatever the Daoist was looking at.

The boatman was at the stern, rowing steadily.

The Yin River truly no longer had a River God. There was, however, a faint trace of demonic energy.

Footsteps approached from behind, and a stunningly beautiful figure came to stand beside him. She stood gracefully, her posture elegant, as she also lowered her head to peer into the river. After a moment, she turned her gaze to him.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing much,” he replied.

“I heard that the Yin River once had a River God,” Miss Wanjiang began, shaking her head slightly. “Back then, the Yin River was one of the two largest waterways in the Central Plains. That River God was powerful. Unfortunately, he wasn’t human. The Heavenly Palace, bound by his strength and the faith of the people, recognized him as a legitimate god. But later, they stripped him of his position.

“Afterward, they appointed several new River Gods—one for each section of the river. But never again did a single River God have control over the entire Yin River.”

“I see,” Song You replied.

At that moment, the boatman’s voice called out from behind them. “Don’t worry, esteemed passengers, we’ll be arriving in Zi Commandery soon!”

Song You turned toward the sound, his gaze briefly sweeping across Wanjiang’s face before landing on the boatman. Taking the opportunity, he asked, “Sir, how’s business on this river?”

“Not too bad, but not too great either—it depends on luck,” the boatman replied loudly, continuing to row. “Most of the time, we go straight to Yaozhou. One trip’s fare is usually enough to cover a month’s living expenses. Passengers like you, heading only to Zi Commandery, are quite rare.”

“Have you ever heard of a River God in these waters?” Song You asked.

“A River God? In other commanderies, there are stories about them—some sections ahead or behind this one have their own tales and their own River Gods. But here? No, nothing like that.”

“I’ve heard a story,” Song You said, addressing the boatman. “It’s about a River God from long ago who accidentally lost an important item, leading to his dismissal by the heavens. You’ve spent most of your life on this river—have you ever heard such a tale?”

“Ahhh...”

The boatman inhaled deeply as he thought, his expression showing some difficulty as he searched his memory. Finally, he said, “I think I’ve heard something like that before. But now that you mention it, I can’t quite recall when or where. Maybe I heard it from a passenger during one of my trips.”

“At Zhengxi?” Song You prompted.

“Ah, yes! I think I heard it there! How did you know, sir?” the boatman asked in surprise.

“I’ve heard it mentioned before,” Song You replied, then continued to ask, “Do you remember any more details?”

The boatman shook his head repeatedly. “No, I don’t. But Zhengxi isn’t far. If you follow this river downstream, you’ll leave Fengzhou soon enough. It’s about 300 li by water to Zhengxi. If you want to go there by land from Zi Commandery, though, that’s much harder—almost no one travels by land in that area. I don’t think there’s even a road from Zi Commandery to Yaozhou...”

“I see,” Song You nodded, then inquired further, “Do you happen to know anything about Yinnan County in Zi Commandery?”

“Yinnan? Sounds like it’s to the south of the Yin River,” the boatman said, but he shook his head. “I’ve never heard of such a place along the river. Zi Commandery, though, is a different matter. Funny enough, I’ve spent most of my life running boats on the Yin River, and look—just over there on the right, as soon as we dock, you’ll be in Zi Commandery. Yet apart from going ashore to relieve myself, I’ve never actually ventured into Zi Commandery.”

“That’s not uncommon,” Song You remarked, unfazed. It had been that way since ancient times.

“This Zi Commandery, though...” the boatman began to say more when suddenly a loud splash interrupted him.

Startled, he turned to look and was instantly alarmed.

His grip on the oar faltered, nearly dropping it into the river.

It was a sunny day, with only a gentle breeze across the water. But behind them, the river surged violently, the surface rising like a hill. Waves rolled forward in towering layers, advancing rapidly toward them.

Beneath the water, a great demon had revealed its true form and was passing through.

“Splash...”

The boat, though large enough to carry horses, seemed insignificant against the approaching waves.

The closer the surging tide came, the smaller the boat appeared in comparison.

“My goodness...!” The boatman exclaimed in fear, collapsing on the deck.

Despite having spent most of his life on the river, encountering river demons and water ghosts, he had never seen anything like this.

“Do not panic, sir,” came the calm voice of the Daoist from the front.

The Daoist squinted, staring intently at the water ahead as if his gaze could penetrate the emerald depths to see what lay beneath. Then, without haste, he lifted his bamboo staff and tapped the surface of the river.

“Buzz...”

A ripple of light spread out from the point where the staff touched the water, radiating outward in an instant.

“Splash...”

The distant waves continued forward but were visibly diminished.

It seemed whatever had been causing the disturbance beneath the water had halted, leaving the waves with no further momentum. As the waves traveled, they lessened in size, shrinking by a foot for every ten feet of distance covered. By the time they reached the small boat, they were only a few feet high. Even so, the gentle waves lifted the wooden boat slightly before setting it back down, causing it to rock violently.

The boatman, who had just managed to stand, fell to the deck again.

The calico cat and the jujube-red horse instinctively lowered their bodies to steady themselves. The cat extended her claws, gripping the wooden planks of the boat tightly.

Only the Daoist and the two women remained motionless, unaffected by the swaying.

In the distance, the water darkened slightly as a huge, shadowy figure emerged, raising its head and eyes to stare at the wooden boat.

It was a giant marsh dragon.

A marsh dragon was essentially a crocodile.

In the past, the region known as Great Yan had various species of active crocodiles, only one of which remained today—a small variety that fed on fish and posed little danger to humans. However, the term “marsh dragon” was not used to describe these harmless little crocodiles. It referred more often to a vicious, large species nearly two zhang long.

These marsh dragons could capsize boats, dared to come ashore to eat humans, and were incredibly fierce, once proliferating to the point of being a calamity.

Yet the power of humanity was formidable.

They didn’t know how the other nations would handle it, but Great Yan was too powerful.

Previously, a government official, disliking the havoc wreaked by these creatures and the suffering they caused the people, wrote a proclamation and cast it into the waters. It ordered the marsh dragons not to cause chaos or come ashore and commanded them to leave quickly. Legend had it that when the marsh dragons did not obey, this official, along with the people, began driving them out. Since then, these ferocious creatures had almost been exterminated within Great Yan.

Why involve gods in the matters of the human world?

The marsh dragon before them could be several tens or even hundreds of zhang long, with a width of several zhang. Its entire body was wider than some smaller rivers, colored a deep brown verging on black. Just its head emerging from the water—just its crocodilian snout—could easily engulf the wooden boat and hold it in its mouth. Even in the wide and vast Yin River, it appeared immensely large.

A pair of eyes sat atop its head, the first to break the water surface, parting a transparent nictitating membrane, revealing vertical, slit-like pupils that were cold and emotionless, fixed on the boat.

The Daoist, leaning on his bamboo staff, met its gaze.

The woman beside him showed no panic, scrutinizing the marsh dragon closely, while the maid beside her smiled, observing even more intently.

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Lady Calico huddled at the Daoist's feet, looking at the marsh dragon with both fear and admiration.

“Who dares to block my path so boldly?”

The voice seemed to come from nowhere, deep and resonant, like a muffled roar, echoing with immense volume. At the same time, the water’s surface trembled continuously, as though it were boiling—but not quite. Countless tiny droplets leapt into the air.

“My goodness! A dragon!” The boatman collapsed onto the deck, utterly limp, unable to rise.

The sheer size of the marsh dragon, coupled with its terrifying proximity, brought an indescribable fear and pressure that was almost suffocating.

“You travel by water, yet why do you make no effort to conceal yourself?” Song You, leaning on his bamboo staff, held its gaze. “You clearly saw the boat above and made no attempt to slow your passage. Are you not concerned about endangering lives?”

“...”

The marsh dragon stared at him coldly, silent.

It seemed aware of its fault and perhaps remembered that this was, after all, the human realm. In an age where human governance was supreme, with the underworld’s influence rising and the Heavenly Palace maintaining its dominance above, it likely wished to avoid unnecessary conflict. After a moment of studying the Daoist and the women on the boat, it slowly sank back into the water.

The massive figure gradually disappeared beneath the emerald waves.

This time, it moved more cautiously, passing through at a slower pace.

However, as it swam beneath the boat, it suddenly flicked its enormous tail, rapidly accelerating and creating another surge of waves. The boat rocked violently as the waves passed.

Then, with the rushing currents trailing behind, the marsh dragon swiftly disappeared into the distance.

“It’s the Dragon Lord! It’s the Dragon Lord, my goodness! Oh, heavens!” Only then did the boatman begin shouting and wailing, his fear spilling out all at once.

In this day and age, people had a peculiar tendency to label many unknown things as “dragons.” This habit had taken on an almost obsessive quality.

Sometimes, it was not just creatures that vaguely resembled dragons that were called dragons—anything mysterious, from an unexplained beam of light to an unknown monster that appeared and disappeared suddenly, or other incomprehensible phenomena, might be called a dragon simply because people didn’t know what else to call it.

And then there was this marsh dragon.

Just the portion of its body visible above the water—immense and beyond imagination—was enough to resemble the dragons of legend.

The river gradually returned to calm, its surface once again a deep, tranquil green. Only the flattened, waterlogged grasses and trees along the banks bore silent testimony to the enormous creature that had just passed through.

This was the true fear of these deep, unfathomable waters—you never know what lurked beneath.

The boatman, after some comforting words from Song You, mustered enough courage to press onward. Song You, meanwhile, stood at the bow of the boat, gazing into the distance, lost in thought.