Unintended Immortality

The room was lit by the glow of red candles, shadows flickering across the walls. It was supposed to be a festive scene, yet with the coffin placed in the center, all sense of joy turned eerie. Even the guests present couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling creeping over them.

“First, bow to the heavens and earth...” a voice called out shakily.

In the hall stood three figures: one holding a spirit tablet, symbolizing the groom. Another supported the bride, dressed in red wedding robes. However, her stiff, unyielding limbs added an extra layer of unease to the scene.

Song You stood nearby with Lady Calico and the gray-clad swordsman, each observing the scene before them. Song You was calm, Lady Calico looked intrigued, and the gray-clad swordsman’s gaze was cold.

Behind them was the young lady from the Cao family, her face pale with fear.

“Second, bow to the elders...

“Now, bow to each other as husband and wife...”

Miss Cao, standing beside the gray-clad swordsman, stared blankly at the scene ahead. She bit down on her lip, trembling with a mix of fear and anger. Tears streamed down her face, and, overcome by weakness, she collapsed to the floor.

The gray-clad swordsman quickly helped her up. Even standing again, she could barely steady herself.

It seemed to carry a calming influence, and just hearing it soothed her heart a little. The terror within her lessened, just enough to allow her to hold herself together while still feeling the appropriate emotions for the situation.

“My companions and I will ensure your safety, and those in the hall will face their due punishment and retribution,” Song You murmured to her, careful to keep others from overhearing. “But now that things have reached this point, it’s urgent you consider carefully what lies ahead. Any compensation you desire can be requested later.”

Perhaps too overwhelmed to speak, the young woman gave no reply.

Song You continued to watch ahead. He had never expected that just upon reaching the border between Angzhou and Hezhou, he would find the place already in such disarray. Nor had he anticipated that, on his journey north, he would encounter people who seemed more like demons than any actual monsters.

Ahead, the sound of pipes and drums persisted. However, after the ceremonial bows, the bride was pushed into the coffin instead of being taken to the bridal chamber.

The bride was a effigy, which was why she didn’t struggle. Otherwise, it was hard to imagine how brutal the scene would be.

Creak… The coffin lid was slowly closed.

Miss Cao trembled once more, her legs weak. But thankfully, the swordsman was there to support her. If not for the presence of these two beside her, she would be the one sealed within that coffin right now.

The pipes and drums started again.

Earlier, they had played cheerful tunes, but now the sound had shifted to mourning. The transition was nearly seamless yet jarringly abrupt, evoking a profound sense of discomfort.

Several middle-aged women immediately knelt before the coffin, wailing in grief as if it were a genuine funeral.

The elder from the Ding family approached Song You once more. “Sir, it’s time to bury them.”

“...” Song You nodded, remaining silent.

“Proceed with the funeral!” someone called out.

It was the same group who had just carried the litter, likely a team specializing in bearing coffins. With a shout, they lifted the coffin—though moments ago, they had entered with a litter, and now they departed carrying a coffin.

The crowd filed out in front and behind, following the procession.

Song You glanced at the young Miss Cao beside him, understanding she would be too afraid to stay in the manor alone.

He turned and said, “If you’re able to walk, come along with us to see the renowned figure who specifically requested your presence as a burial companion. If you’re unable to, one of my companions can stay here with you. Rest assured, this companion of mine is a master swordsman, the finest in the land, and can certainly keep you safe.”

“...” The young Miss Cao, barely in her teens, was terrified beyond measure. Yet, after casting a glance at him, she managed to stumble forward, step by shaky step.

Seeing this, Song You followed.

The path ahead was filled with the clamorous sound of drums and gongs, the sky-rattling explosions of firecrackers, and the fluttering of paper money. Smoke filled the air, mingling with the raucous, local shouts of the coffin-bearers as they carried the procession through half the village.

“Only jasmine smells this sweet...”

“Hehe!”

Many households were roused by the noise. Most of the villagers had some knowledge of the matter, and they rose, peering out through their windows to see what was happening.

Song You sensed their gazes. Some were apathetic, some merely curious, some visibly angered, while others seemed to find it novel and exciting.

Until a few spotted the Daoist, the swordsman, and young Miss Cao—who was supposed to be inside the coffin—at the back of the procession. Then, their faces showed astonishment. After the funeral procession passed, murmurs of conversation broke out among the onlookers.

The whispers reached the Daoist’s ears.

“Weren’t they planning to bury Miss Cao along with the deceased? Why is she still there?”

“Told you the Ding family wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“They’re probably afraid of the authorities.”

“The Ding family? Afraid of the authorities?”

“...” Unmoved, the Daoist continued walking forward, his expression calm.

A night breeze stirred, causing the candle flames to flicker, blending smoke and mist in a haze.

Gradually, they reached a point midway up a small mountain. Song You wasn’t skilled in feng shui and couldn’t discern any special qualities of the location. From his perspective, there was likely nothing particularly significant about its feng shui.

The grave was already prepared, and the burial time meticulously calculated, all according to the esteemed figure's specifications. For a prominent family like the Dings, not a single ritual or ceremony could be overlooked.

Song You stood quietly, observing.

Ahead, wailing sounds filled the air as the paper money burned, scattering embers in the wind. The scent of incense and candles was overwhelming.

Crackle…

The sound of firecrackers echoed through the mountains.

Following local custom, after the burial, family members placed poplar branches in their hair and quickly returned home without looking back. A procession of lanterns lined the path down the mountain as they departed.

“Sir...” The elder once again approached Song You.

In the face of the wealthy patriarch who had decided to bury someone alive in the coffin, Song You maintained a slight smile while addressing him, “Elder, the wooden effigy I crafted cannot stray too far from me, or it will quickly revert to mere wood and grass.

“And as I understand, if you wish to alter the feng shui of this location by burying your grandson with Miss Cao here, it will likely take a bit more time. I suggest you and your family return home first. I will stay here a while longer to ensure that your household remains undisturbed.”

“Oh, we owe you many thanks, sir.” The elder quickly bowed. “But I would not dare leave you here alone. I’ll have a few young men stay here with you.”

“Numbers won’t help; please, return.”

“...”

Hearing this, the elder hesitated. He was puzzled, but refrained from arguing. With the recent upheaval in his household—the sudden deaths, spirits wandering in the night, and tonight’s thunder on a clear evening, as if the heavens were angered—he was already deeply shaken and dared not question further. Reluctantly, he agreed.

“When might you return, sir?”

“Perhaps before dawn, perhaps after.”

“We will await your return, sir.”

“Please, head back...”

“This young Miss Cao...”

“She’s been badly frightened and no longer trusts anyone here, so she’s chosen to stay with us. We’ll bring her back with us afterward.”

“Thank you, sir...” The elder nodded. With the support of his younger kin, he left without looking back.

Now, only the young Daoist remained, with the curious calico cat at his feet, the cold-faced gray-clad swordsman, and the girl barely able to stand, holding onto a branch for support.

“Daoist priest...”

“Hmm?”

“What are they doing?” The cat’s voice was soft and gentle, her eyes clear and untroubled.

“Nothing important...”

Miss Cao lowered her head, staring at the cat.

The young Daoist had already settled down in a cross-legged position, stroking the calico cat’s head as he looked up at her, saying, “Do not be afraid. I am a Daoist from Yin-Yang Mountain in Lingquan County of Yizhou. I’ve been traveling and met both you and the Ding family by chance. I’m here now only to observe whoever is behind these events.

“As for my two companions, one is Lady Calico, once worshipped as a Cat God along the Jinyang Road in Yizhou. The other is the renowned chivalrous hero of the jianghu, Shu Yifan. Neither will bring you any harm.”

“T-Thank you, sir...”

“And thank Lady Calico.”

“T-Thank you, Lady Calico, and you too, sir hero...”

Song You smiled, “Have you thought about what to do next?”

“I… I don’t know...”

“You’re young but very courageous; you have time to decide,” Song You replied, glancing off into the distance. “But let’s keep quiet from here on, so we don’t startle anyone coming.”

“...” The silence enveloped them.

Only the candles burning by the grave flickered, casting an unsteady light. Paper money was still burning, embers sometimes carried up by the wind. The scent of incense and liquor drifted through the air.

An owl’s call broke the stillness from time to time.

It was already the fourth watch of the night. Just before dawn, the faint sounds of movement began in the distance.

The calico cat was the first to notice, turning its head toward the direction of the sound, followed by the gray-clad swordsman. The Daoist, however, remained motionless in his cross-legged position, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

Miss Cao shivered, cold and terrified, curling up as she trembled.

Thud, thud…

A strange sound filled the air, and a large crow flew over, landing atop the grave. Under the starlit sky, several figures approached.

The leader, faintly visible, wore a long robe, his long hair flowing, and carried a shovel on his shoulder, walking leisurely. Behind him were two hulking figures with stiff movements, following closely.

Once he reached the grave, he began digging.

Beneath a line of cypress trees in the distance, the swordsman stood ready, sword in hand, his killing intent carefully concealed. The calico cat stretched its neck, eyes filled with curiosity, while the Daoist sat quietly, watching. The figure digging the grave remained oblivious, focusing only on shoveling the soil, unaware of the silent watchers nearby.

Freshly buried graves were easy to dig, and the hastily constructed tomb was simple, too. After clearing the topsoil and removing the stone slab, he reached the coffin below.

The two figures behind him mostly stood still, only moving to assist with heavy tasks when ordered. Once done, they returned to standing motionless, appearing more like corpses than living men.

Before long, he ordered the two figures to pry open the coffin lid.

“Hehe…” The man bent over, seemingly lifting out a corpse.

“Stay here.” At last, Song You rose and began to walk forward.

The swordsman immediately followed him. The calico cat turned its head, staring at them in surprise, then quickly trotted after them as they took several steps.

The man at the grave had just lifted out the Ding family’s deceased grandson’s corpse, and then a second one. Muttering incantations over the bodies, he began some kind of ritual, only then noticing something amiss, giving a soft “Huh?”

Almost at the same moment, the crow at his side let out a loud caw. “Caw, caw!”

The man straightened at once, turning to look behind him. “Who’s there?”

Through the mist, three figures emerged from the darkness—two large men and a small cat—heading toward him with the young Daoist at the front.

“What’s the matter?” The young Daoist approached, asking, “Have you realized that it is a fake too? Or are you wondering where the soul has gone?”

“...!” The man immediately grew wary.

As Song You drew closer, the faint starlight allowed him a rough glimpse of the man. He, too, was dressed in a Daoist robe, though it was filthy and torn. He had a beard and looked to be of considerable age.

Behind him stood a towering young man wielding a heavy longsword, as well as a stocky, broad-shouldered middle-aged man who might have been either muscular or simply hefty, holding an iron mace with a golden grip.

The grave-digging Daoist squinted at Song You and asked, “Where might you be from, fellow Daoist? And what’s the meaning of this?”

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