Unintended Immortality

The middle-aged Daoist struggled to his feet, revealing the jie banner he had been using as a cushion for warmth underneath him. He glanced at Song You and immediately nodded, repeatedly saying, "We’re leaving, we’re leaving..."

However, he stumbled, and he heard the voice of the young Daoist behind him just as he took two steps. “Changjing is vast, and the nights are long. Where are you going, fellow Daoist?”

The middle-aged Daoist halted and turned around.

Song You looked at him and, seeing his frail frame, said helplessly, “Fate must’ve brought us together. Please come in, fellow Daoist. Have a cup of hot water and something to eat to warm yourself before you go.”

“…” The middle-aged Daoist met his gaze, his lips moving hesitantly. Finally, he raised his hand to salute, saying, “Thank you, fellow Daoist…”

Song You then opened the door and led the horse inside. Lady Calico followed him over the threshold.

The middle-aged Daoist trailed behind, feeling somewhat relieved upon discovering that Song You was also a Daoist.

“Please take a seat.”

Song You set down his pack and said, “Fellow Daoist, wait a moment while I go upstairs to get a heater and prepare some food for you.”

He noticed the middle-aged Daoist looking at the jujube-red horse. “My horse is quite intelligent; it doesn’t need reins and won’t harm anyone, so you can rest assured, fellow Daoist.”

With that, Song You went upstairs.

Only the middle-aged Daoist remained seated, feeling awkward. He shivered from the cold and exchanged glances with Lady Calico, who was staring back at him.

Song You returned upstairs, lit the heater, and brought it down to warm the middle-aged Daoist. He then went to the kitchen to cook a pot of porridge and took out a century egg he had made a few days ago, cracking it open to check. Seeing that it was covered in a pine branch pattern[1], he took another one as a side dish.

By this time, it was almost dark in Changjing. Song You lit an oil lamp, illuminating the interior of the room.

On the table, there were only simple dishes: a bowl of thin porridge, a plate of pickled vegetables, and two peeled century eggs.

The young Daoist and the middle-aged Daoist sat opposite each other, while Lady Calico perched on a wide bench beside the young Daoist, with the jujube-red horse standing quietly behind.

“Fellow Daoist, please eat.”

“Fellow Daoist…”

“We had a bowl of soup noodles on the way back.”

“I… This…”

“Fate brought us together. You don’t have to thank me.” Song You’s voice was gentle. “Eat up.”

“Thank you.” Only then did the middle-aged Daoist pick up his chopsticks.

Song You watched him from the side, worried he would eat too quickly, and softly asked, “How long has it been since you last ate?”

“To be honest, it’s been three days.”

“Are you really a Daoist priest?”

“…” The middle-aged Daoist fell silent for a moment before putting down his chopsticks. “To be honest, fellow Daoist, I am not a true Daoist priest; I have only read a few books and put on this outfit to make a living fortune-telling.”

“It’s alright; I’m also a false Daoist priest,” Song You said with a smile. “Take your time eating. It’s not good to eat too quickly after being hungry for so long.”

“Thank you, fellow Daoist.” The middle-aged Daoist picked up his chopsticks again.

“I remember you were still on the street fortune-telling when we met at the beginning of the year. How did you end up in such a situation?”

“That…”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I still remember,” Song You said with a smile. “At that time, you were doing fortune-telling on the street, and I wasn’t wearing a Daoist robe. You wanted to read my fortune, and I said I was also a Daoist. You thought I was just fooling you.”

“Ah…” The middle-aged Daoist seemed to just recall. “It was you!”

“What a coincidence.”

“Sigh…” The middle-aged Daoist sighed, “It’s a long story…”

“Please take your time, fellow Daoist.”

“I originally lived in the North,” the middle-aged Daoist said with a touch of sadness, “but the land couldn’t be farmed, and we couldn’t even get enough to eat. Then came the wars, and demons and monsters started appearing. There was no way to survive—no one could find a way to survive…”

He paused for a moment, then continued, “Eventually, I had no choice but to leave my home and head south to seek a way to live. But I had no special skills, so I could only recall the few days of study I had when I was young, and the fortune-telling books I had read. So I got myself a Daoist robe and this flag, pretending to be a Daoist, making a living by fortune-telling.”

“Isn’t it easy to make a living fortune-telling in Changjing?”

“Well, that depends on the person…” The middle-aged Daoist shook his head in shame.

“Looking back now, that book I read in my youth was likely a fake. I have no real skills, and I’m not particularly eloquent. I can only make a bit of 'fortune money' during the time when scholars head to the capital for exams or around the New Year. After that, I can only pray for the heavens to provide for me…”

“I see…” Song You nodded, finding some sense in his words.

The so-called “fortune money” sounded nice, but such behavior was essentially no different from trickery.

Song You pushed the two century eggs from his plate toward the middle-aged Daoist and also slid a small dish of soy sauce over to him, saying, “Don’t just drink the thin porridge; this is a specialty from my hometown called century egg, also known as songhua egg.

“Don’t be put off by its dark appearance; it’s actually edible. The taste is a bit strange; some people love it while others don’t. At first bite, you might find it odd, but dipping it in soy sauce will make it better.”

“Thank you…”

“May I ask where you are from in the North?”

“I’m from Yanzhou.”

“Isn’t Yanzhou quite close to the border?”

“Indeed, it is near the border,” the middle-aged Daoist said. “Before General Chen arrived in the North, the people from the northern frontier would come south to plunder every year. Life was already difficult, and then a great war broke out. The northern lands were desolate with almost every household fleeing.

“The war has subsided now and we have won, and the northern people don’t come much anymore, but the farmland has turned into wasteland. There are no people for dozens of li.”

“Life is tough, indeed.”

“If it were just that, it would only mean fewer people. But with fewer living people and more dead, ghosts, demons and monsters started showing up. Who would still dare live there?”

“How many people have come south to seek a way to survive like you?”

"Not too many, but there weren't many left to begin with. Of those who remain, half stay put, and the other half wander wherever they can find a way to live."

“I’ve also heard that demons and monsters are rampant in the North. A general once told me many things. Although he was stationed in the North, he was, after all, a border general and not one of the common folk in the rear. I imagine he doesn't fully understand the hardships of the people there.” Song You looked at him. “If you'd be willing to share more, it would be much appreciated.”

The middle-aged Daoist said, “There’s not much to tell. Ordinary demons and monsters do nothing more than cause chaos, eat people, and spread panic, much like the devastation of war. But when it comes to the more powerful demons, they act like kings over their territory, raising the people like livestock.

“The more benevolent ones only demand that the people regularly offer up those they want—whether boys, girls, or people born on certain dates—to maintain a temporary peace. The crueler ones treat the people like crops in the field or chickens in a coop, slaughtering at will. I’ve even heard that in some places, the demons only eat hearts and livers, leaving severed heads scattered by the roadside.”

The middle-aged Daoist’s hand trembled as he held his chopsticks.

“Such horror!”

“Besides the demons and monsters, the North is also plagued by disease. When a plague strikes, it’s three times more terrifying than the demons,” the middle-aged Daoist said. “Some people become demons themselves in the face of disease.”

“I see.” Song You gazed at the Daoist for a long time before nodding.

It seemed heaven wanted him to go to the North first. He wondered if it really was heaven’s will.

Shaking his head, Song You did not pursue that line of questioning and continued to ask him, “Since leaving your homeland, have you only relied on fortune-telling to make a living?”

“There really is no other way.”

“However, you’re not a true Daoist and haven't mastered the genuine art of divination. If this goes on for too long…” Song You paused and smiled slightly.

He added, “Setting aside whether you’re deceiving people and scamming their money, it's difficult for you to rely on this to make a living. Just like these past few days… Fellow Daoist, you haven’t had a grain of rice, and your clothes are so thin. How much longer can you hold out?”

“What you say makes sense. If it weren’t for you, I would likely die tonight or at least by tomorrow night,” the middle-aged Daoist said, his face showing a look of bitterness as he shook his head. “But what can I do? To put it bluntly, I’ve already lived a few more years than the others back home.”

“I would be willing to give you a little money, but winter in Changjing has just begun, and I am not a wealthy person with vast resources. This little money might not be of much use.”

“This…” The middle-aged Daoist was taken aback.

He wanted to habitually decline, but he also feared that Song You might really not give him anything if he did. He thought about accepting the money shamelessly, like he did during fortune-telling, but he found it hard to speak at that moment.

He had a conflicted look for a moment.

After a while, he shamefully said, “If you’re willing to help, I am deeply grateful. How could I dare to ask for anything more? If I were to die one day, it would just be my fate. I can only blame myself for having no other skills and for deceiving too many people, thus reaping my own retribution.”

“How does this egg taste?”

“Hmm?” The middle-aged Daoist was momentarily stunned, unsure why he had asked that suddenly. But he quickly replied, “It tastes quite strange, but dipped in soy sauce, it’s pretty good.”

“It's most delicious when used to cook lean pork congee.”

“Thank you, thank you, fellow Daoist…”

“This is made from duck eggs,” Song You ignored his thanks and continued, “The method of making it is quite simple. Ever since I came down from the mountains and traveled through several states, I have not seen it elsewhere. It’s regrettable that people in the world cannot taste such a simple delicacy, and it’s troublesome that I want to eat it but have to make it myself, as it can’t be bought anywhere.”

“That’s true…” The middle-aged Daoist paused as if he had realized something, and he stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly at Song You.

Song You's gaze was calm, and his expression was equally composed.

“Please guide me, fellow Daoist!” The middle-aged Daoist immediately stood up and bowed.

Song You smiled and said to him, “Fellow Daoist, please sit down. Eat first.”

So the middle-aged Daoist sat back down.

There were still a few duck eggs left at home, which he had originally planned to boil and eat. After the middle-aged Daoist finished eating, Song You took a lantern and led him to the kitchen, explaining the process of making century eggs.

Once he had memorized it, Song You gave him nearly a full guan of money to help him get through the coming days. Fearing that the man was too honest and lacking in eloquence, Song You explained how he should promote himself and even gifted him a paper coat he had bought in Yizhou before seeing him off.

“There’s a dormitory-style inn near the eastern district gate. They only charge a few qian for a night. Fellow Daoist, if you don't want to freeze on the street, you can stay there. Just make sure to keep an eye on your money; if you lose it, there’s no getting it back.”

“Thank you so much, fellow Daoist! You truly are a living divine immortal!”

“This is nothing. I just feel that you’re not the kind of person skilled in deceiving others. Using fortune-telling to cheat people out of their money is neither right nor enough to sustain you. I hope that from now on, you won’t need to engage in such exhausting and deceitful work, and that you’ll find another way to live, at least without going hungry or cold.” Song You gave him a slight smile.

He added, “Besides, you once pointed me in the right direction, so consider this a fair trade.”

“…” The middle-aged Daoist’s expression became a bit more serious, and he then bowed solemnly. “I guarantee with my life that I will never again engage in such deceptive practices!”

“Take care.”

“I’ve been so preoccupied by my hunger and cold that I haven’t even asked for your name.”

“My surname is Song, and my name is You; I don’t have a Daoist title.”

“My real name is Zhang Qing. Your esteemed name is already engraved in my memory. I will never forget your great kindness and virtue.” The middle-aged Daoist bowed deeply before finally departing. His figure was quickly swallowed by the darkness.

Who knows where he went next.

1. Some century eggs have patterns near the surface of the egg white which are likened to pine branches. These patterned eggs are regarded as having better quality than the normal century eggs ☜