Unintended Immortality-Chapter 445: Qingyun Temple in Yangzhou

Qingnu County, part of Le Commandery in Yangzhou, was also the commandery city of Le Commandery.

Yangzhou had an extensive water system and a thriving river transport network. Qingnu County, built along the water, was traversed by the Qingnu River. This was a stunning Jiangnan commandery city, where all the buildings had white walls and black-tiled roofs. Every morning and evening, a thin mist enveloped the surroundings. The white walls faded into the fog, their boundaries blurring into one.

This city was more prosperous than many prefectural capitals Song You had visited. Shops lined the streets, people bustled about, carriages and horses moved like flowing water and dragons in procession. Compared to Langzhou, it felt like an entirely different world.

Beyond its wealth and liveliness, the city had a distinct charm. As one walked the streets, one could often hear the songs of boatmen from the Qingnu River, the recitation of poetry by scholars standing at the bow of their boats, or the graceful melodies of instruments drifting from taverns and brothels along the roadside.

Yangzhou, whether in its counties or its commandery city, seemed to have an endless array of winehouses and brothels to explore. This was part of its irresistible allure.

No wonder Princess Changping had loved visiting Yangzhou in her youth.

Moreover, anything available for purchase in the Great Yan could be found here as well.

Song You found an inn by the river and booked a stay for half a month. This was the shortest period for which the innkeeper was willing to offer a discount, and Song You also intended to take the time to rid himself of the lingering wilderness aura from Yaozhou and Langzhou.

For the first two days, he wandered around, exchanging the excess honey that Lady Calico had collected along the way for money, restocking the oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and spices that had been consumed during the journey, and even making himself a new pair of shoes. But after that, he seldom ventured out.

Most of the time, he leaned against the window, half his body extending out, silently watching the emerald waters of the river below and the endless stream of boats passing by. No one knew what he was thinking.

When he grew tired of watching, he would write his travel notes.

At first, the days felt long. He thought that staying in one place for half a month without moving would be a long enough time to rest. But before he knew it, ten days had already passed.

As the novelty of the Jiangnan city and the excitement of its long-lost prosperity and convenience began to fade, he started to feel that living in an inn every day—whether ordering meals to be delivered to his room, eating at nearby street restaurants, or having dishes sent from upscale taverns—offered nothing but bland, unseasoned food.

In this era, food was often so plain that the taste of meat or fish could stand out sharply. Lady Calico had already resumed her habit of secretly braising rats in the middle of the night, while Song You himself was still uncertain about what to do.

And so, all that remained was to watch the river.

The water remained unchanged, except for shifts between clear and rainy weather. But the passengers on the decorated pleasure boats and covered barges were always different.

There were those struggling for a living, as well as refined gentlemen and charming ladies. Some wealthy patrons even hired musicians and singers, enjoying music as they drifted down the river. Whenever this happened, Song You, along with the pedestrians and shopkeepers along the riverbanks, would benefit from their extravagance, sharing in their refined entertainment.

Even at night, there were lantern-lit boats cruising the waters.

Observing the lives of the people was a form of cultivation in itself.

“Sigh...”

Song You withdrew his gaze from the river outside and turned back toward the young attendant inside the room.

The little girl wore a tri-colored outfit and lay sprawled over the square table. A sheet of paper was spread out before her, held in place by a gemstone gifted by the yaksha. She carefully held a brush, writing tiny, delicate characters on the paper.

Every so often, she would pause, her expression thoughtful.

“Lady Calico.”

“Mm?” The little girl immediately sat up, staring at him warily.

Song You stood by the window, knowing full well that if he took a step closer, she would immediately cover the paper with her hands. If he took another step, she would gather it up and hide it away. So, he didn’t approach. Instead, he leaned against the window and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be writing about overseas encounters, would you?”

“It’s a travel journal!”

“Then why is it that when I write my travel journal, you sit across from me and watch, but when you write yours, I’m not allowed to sit across from you and watch?”

“Mm!”

“And you only ever write when I’m looking at the scenery.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh?”

“I write at midnight when you’re asleep too!”

“I see.” Song You sighed, looking helplessly at the little girl. “Lady Calico, you have double standards, don't you?”

“Double standards!”

“Yes, like how you’re acting right now...”

“I don’t understand...”

“Sigh...”

Song You remained leaning against the window, having no real intention of peeking at what she was writing. He merely sighed and said, “Staying here every day like this isn’t a long-term plan. But it seems like there aren’t many interesting places in this county either...”

“I saw lots of people going into those pretty wooden houses with lanterns hanging all over them!” The little girl eagerly suggested. “It looks fun! We can go play there too!”

“Oh, that place... It’s not actually that fun.”

“But those people seemed to be having a great time!” The little girl said seriously. It wasn’t a lie.

“Those are places of indulgence, not suitable for a cultivator to enjoy. At most, you can go in to have some food, drink a little wine, listen to music, and watch some dancing. That’s all.”

“What about a cat?”

“A cultivator cat is also not allowed.”

“Why?”

“...” Song You fell silent for a moment before replying, “Because it’s very expensive.”

“...!”

The little girl’s expression instantly turned serious.

“I heard there’s a Qingyun Temple in the city. It’s said to be highly efficacious and is the largest Daoist temple in all of Le Commandery. We can go take a look and offer some incense.” As Song You spoke, he lowered his head slightly and tapped the little swallow on the forehead with his finger. He paused before adding, “And we can also inquire about the deities the State Preceptor once enshrined.”

“When are we going?”

“When you finish writing.”

“I’m finished writing!” The little girl immediately put down her brush, took a deep breath, and gently blew over the paper in front of her. In an instant, the ink dried completely.

“Oh, right. Congealed Fragrance seems to be a specialty of Yangzhou. It might be cheaper here than elsewhere. We could ask where it’s made and pick up a few sticks if we pass by.” Song You had only just remembered this after seeing her actions—the way the ink on the paper gleamed with a faint bluish tint.

Congealed Fragrance was excellent. Once used, it was unforgettable. Back then, he had even used it to write a letter to the old Daoist at his temple.

Eight years had passed in a blink of an eye... For a moment, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia and disorientation.

“Congealed Fragrance!” The little girl’s parroting broke his train of thought.

Song You shook his head, shaking off the moment of reminiscence, and instead smiled at her. “Lady Calico, you’ve been advancing rapidly in knowledge, have even gained some skill in calligraphy, and are now working on a great literary piece. Since that’s the case, only the finest ink in the world would be worthy of your brushwork, and only the best could match the masterpiece you’re creating.”

“My bwushwork...”

“Lady Calico, you clearly know what I mean.”

“Clearly know!”

As she spoke, the little girl carefully put away her paper, ensuring it was stored properly. Then, she stood up straight, tilting her head up to stare at the Daoist priest, silently signaling that she was ready to leave.

“Let’s go.” Song You stepped out the door.

“Let’s go...” The little girl followed suit.

Flap, flap, flap...

The swallow, however, did not take the door. Instead, it flew out through the window, soaring freely in the air, making a few playful loops before gliding over the rooftops and following them from above, hovering over the street.

***

Before long, three figures arrived outside Qingyun Temple. The young Daoist priest, clad in new shoes and an old robe, was leaning on a bamboo staff. A pretty little girl in a tri-colored outfit had her hair braided into pigtails. And a tall, slender, strikingly handsome youth was dressed in black and white.

As usual, Song You lifted his gaze to read the couplet above the temple entrance, “Blessings come to the kind-hearted; disaster befalls the cunning and deceitful.”

A simple couplet.

Song You withdrew his gaze and stepped through the temple gates.

Inside, the temple was indeed bustling with worshippers, the air thick with incense. Several halls housed various deities, and the principal gods of the Heavenly Palace were all present. However, perhaps because Yangzhou had long been prosperous and peaceful, or perhaps because people's main concerns revolved around wealth and status, most of the honored deities were civil officials of the Heavenly Palace.

The most heavily worshipped figures, aside from the Great Emperor Chijin, were the God of Wealth[1] and Wenquxing[2]. Only after them came the local gods.

As for the military officials—whether Gold Spirit Official or Duke of Thunder Zhou—there were no statues of them here.

However, there was a statue of the old Swallow Immortal.

Yangzhou had already begun cultivating the foreign crops brought back by the Anqing swallows, and as the largest temple in Le Commandery, it was required by imperial decree to enshrine the old Swallow Immortal.

The incense at his altar was quite abundant.

The strikingly handsome youth was the first to step forward and purchase three sticks of incense. He made his way toward the shrine dedicated to the old Swallow Immortal, but paused at the entrance, waiting patiently.

Only after the number of worshippers inside dwindled did he seize the opportunity to step forward.

Kneeling on the prayer cushion, he offered incense to his own ancestor. His movements were no different from those of an ordinary devotee.

To an outsider, it would seem as though he were just another worshipper.

Among those who came to offer incense to the old Swallow Immortal, most prayed for a bountiful harvest. Few were as young as him, and none were as strikingly handsome.

Moreover, he was not praying—he was softly sharing family news.

The old Swallow Immortal had always been strict with him, but he understood well that this harshness came from high expectations, a deep-seated urgency born of frustration. In truth, his ancestor treated him very well.

And he had no other family left.

Since that was the case, whenever he found a spare moment, he would share his experiences from the past few years spent traveling with his teacher—the insights he had gained, his progress, and even small, personal anecdotes that only mattered to himself.

As he whispered softly, a gentle breeze stirred within the shrine.

It was cool and soothing, though not strong enough to move anyone’s robes. At most, it made the tips of his hair sway slightly, tickling his skin with a light, tingling sensation. It also stirred the incense smoke at the altar, causing it to coil and twist in elegant spirals.

For a moment, the cold and lifeless statue of the old Swallow Immortal seemed to gain a certain divine radiance, its once-stern brows and eyes appearing noticeably softer.

This was not something only the swallow could see. Even ordinary people could sense it.

At that moment, a Daoist priest from Qingyun Temple was walking from the inner courtyard toward the outer halls. As he passed by this shrine, he felt a peculiar shift in the air. Instinctively, he paused, turned his head, and looked inside—only to be momentarily stunned by what he saw.

The young man knelt in quiet murmurs, incense smoke drifting around him, and the immortal’s presence seemed to manifest.

For a moment, the priest was so entranced by the sight that he forgot himself.

By the time he regained his composure, he found another figure standing before him—a young Daoist with new shoes, an old robe, and a jade-like bamboo staff.

With a warm smile, the young Daoist greeted him with a respectful bow.

“I am Song You from Yizhou. Greetings, fellow Daoist.”

1. Caishenye is the Chinese god of money and wealth. He is worshipped in China by followers of both Taoism and Chinese folk religions. Caishen is said to have the power to grant wealth and take wealth away. ☜

2. In Chinese mythology, Wenquxing (文曲星, 'Star of Literature') is a god responsible for overseeing literary pursuits and examinations. ☜