Unintended Immortality-Chapter 360: A Sleight of Hand

“Whose procession is that? Why is it so long, yet without an official clearing the way?”

“Good heavens, look at all those carriages...”

“Shh! I heard it's the procession of Princess Changping!”

“Princess Changping?”

Seeing the commotion and the lively discussions, Song You grew curious. He quietly approached a group of scholarly-looking men nearby, staying silent to listen to their conversation.

The cat crouched beside him, appearing to lick its paws disinterestedly, but its ears were perked up to catch every word.

“Didn’t Princess Changping...” The tall, lean scholar lowered his voice, unwilling to utter the word rebel. “How could she still be leaving the capital?”

“Ah, Princess Changping is, after all, the Emperor’s own daughter, and the eldest at that,” another scholar, well-dressed and dignified, said softly. “She has assisted in governing the court for years, and the current prosperity owes no small part to her efforts. The Emperor, in the end, softened his heart.

“Though she has been demoted to a commoner, she’s still permitted to take some household staff, servants, and money with her. The only condition is that she must leave the capital.”

“It’s said the decision was made just yesterday,” he continued. “Many officials in court are displeased about it.”

“I think the Emperor’s just gotten too old,” another scholar chimed in. “When you get older, you tend to soften. Most likely, the Emperor feared he might change his mind or be swayed by the officials’ persuasion. So last night, he released Princess Changping and ordered her to leave the capital first thing this morning.”

“The Emperor’s rise to power owes something to the Princess as well.”

“I’ve heard that many years ago, when Princess Changping first assisted the Emperor, he promised her that no matter what, he would ensure her lifelong well-being.”

“Brother Chen, that sounds like hearsay to me. It’s probably just a matter of familial affection and recognition of her past contributions.”

“It’s not hearsay!”

“Where is she being sent?”

“I heard it’s to Yaozhou...”

“Yaozhou? That’s a land of barren mountains and treacherous swamps, full of miasma and pestilence.”

“Princess Changping has people and wealth at her disposal. Though her influence at court has been uprooted, her reputation remains. Many officials currently serving outside the capital have visited her residence in the past, and some even regarded themselves as her protégés.

“With the Emperor clearly nostalgic for their past relationship, she’ll live comfortably wherever she goes. But she’ll certainly never stir up any waves again,” the well-dressed scholar said.

Song You listened quietly while turning his gaze toward the procession.

In the middle of the line was a large carriage, its furnishings evidently recently altered. The once-luxurious decorations and symbols of status had been replaced with simple oilcloth, making it resemble the possessions of an ordinary wealthy family.

A sudden gust of wind lifted the curtains.

Through the small side window, he caught a glimpse of a woman seated inside. She appeared to be in her forties or fifties, with wrinkles lining her face and an aged demeanor. Her hair was streaked with gray, and she was coughing into a handkerchief, her head lowered.

As the wind brightened the carriage interior by lifting the curtains, she seemed to notice the light. Turning her head slightly, her gaze swept outside.

Her eyes briefly passed over the common folk gathered along the road—and naturally, over the Daoist as well.

Song You found the moment strangely ironic.

According to the fox demon of the Hexian Pavilion, this Princess Changping had once considered visiting him and Lady Calico, only to be dissuaded. At that time, Princess Changping wielded immense power, brimming with confidence and ambition, one of the most influential figures in the empire and perhaps even the world.

Who could have imagined that their eventual meeting would be under such drastically altered circumstances?

Their eyes met briefly. However, the maid beside the Princess, noticing the curtain had been blown aside, quickly reached out to pull it closed, unwilling to let the world glimpse her mistress's fallen appearance.

The Princess did not recognize him.

Without the scholars’ remarks, Song You doubted he would have recognized her either.

The unpredictability of fate was humbling—what rose swiftly could just as easily fall.

“Let’s not dwell on this anymore. We should be on our way as well,” the tall, lean scholar remarked. “After admiring the snowy scenery, let’s see who can compose a good poem or two. Mr. Yu, in his younger days, was a great enthusiast of poetry and prose.

“Ten years ago, he was quite renowned among the literati of Changjing. Judging by current events, it seems inevitable that he’ll soon rise to the position of Prime Minister. If anyone here can compose a fine poem today, I’ll be happy to present it alongside my own to Mr. Yu.”

The Princess’s procession moved further and further away, and the group of scholars followed suit, disappearing into the distance.

Song You withdrew his gaze and turned back toward the city.

The cat, absorbed in licking its paws, finally noticed that its companion had vanished. Spotting Song You already far ahead, it sprinted to catch up.

Slowly, they made their way back to Willow Street.

“Meow?”

The calico cat trotted forward with small steps, its expression curious. Picking up the pace slightly, it ran to the door, raised its head to stare at something, and then stood on its hind legs, reaching out with a paw to nudge at it.

After a couple of swipes, the cat seemed to remember something. Turning back to the approaching Daoist, it meowed sharply, “Meow!”

The Daoist silently walked up, reached out, and examined the object.

It was a branch of plum blossoms, tucked into the door latch. Judging by its appearance, it had been placed there recently. The branch looked freshly cut, with some buds still tightly closed and others just beginning to bloom. Even the fully opened blossoms hadn’t started to wilt from lack of water.

“It’s a branch of plum blossoms,” Song You said.

“Meow!”

“It was left by someone else.”

“Meow...”

Song You held the branch in one hand and unlocked the door with the other. As he pushed the door open, he glanced toward the neighboring house before stepping inside.

Moments later, a window next door creaked open.

Not long after that, Heroine Wu appeared.

Song You was just retrieving the medical text from his bundle and placing it at the bottom of a fabric bag alongside his travel notes. When he came downstairs, the heroine was already talking to the calico cat. Both were fond of learning, so naturally, their discussion was about scholarly matters.

Upon seeing Song You, the heroine looked up and said,

“Who left a pear blossom at your door?”

“It’s a plum blossom, white plum,” Song You corrected. “Most likely, an old acquaintance came with a branch, hoping to meet, but didn’t find me at home. Disappointed, they left the branch behind to signify they’d been here.”

“Probably one of those scholarly types from Changjing,” Heroine Wu said.

“Perhaps,” Song You replied.

With no vase in the house, Song You grabbed a tall, narrow ceramic teapot used for tea, filled it with water, and placed the branch inside. Then he turned to Heroine Wu and asked, “When did you return?”

“Just in the past couple of days,” she replied.

“The past couple of days? Does that mean your great revenge has been achieved?”

“Not yet. I went to confirm the final details. A matter of life and death cannot be taken lightly,” Heroine Wu said, stepping to the side and cupping her hands in a respectful gesture. “I do have something I’d like to ask you to help clarify.”

“You’re broad-minded, far beyond ordinary people. What matter requires the counsel of a mere fake Daoist priest like me?” Song You’s curiosity was piqued.

The cat beside him also turned to stare at her.

It wanted to know what question was so perplexing that she couldn’t ask her teacher, Lady Calico, and instead needed advice from the Daoist.

“There is one!” Heroine Wu’s expression remained composed.

She glanced back, rose to close the door, then returned to her seat and said, “I’ve finally uncovered the person who, over twenty years ago, orchestrated the betrayal of my father and caused the massacre of my entire family. But so much time has passed.

“Some of those responsible have already died of old age, though their families remain. Others are still alive and thriving, their fortunes vast. You’re a Daoist. Tell me: should I hold their children accountable for their parents’ sins to eliminate future threats, or should I stick to the principle of justice, pursuing only those directly responsible?”

Song You felt a sudden sense of déjà vu, as if he were back at the mortuary five or six years ago.

“I am but a Daoist,” Song You replied earnestly. “Naturally, I would prefer not to see lives ended prematurely or see your hands stained with blood.” He expressed his view plainly, watching her closely. Her expression remained calm, but her eyes flickered with hesitation.

Song You smiled and added, “However, a grudge as deep as yours isn’t something I can resolve with mere words. Ultimately, the decision must be yours. From what I see, Heroine, you’ve already made up your mind.”

“Made up my mind? If I’d already decided, why would I ask you?” Heroine Wu countered, tapping the table with her finger. “This is the first time I’ve entrusted you with something. Don’t take it lightly.”

“Heroine, your words aren’t entirely correct,” Song You said with a slight bow. “Sometimes, those directly involved are clouded by their emotions, while an outsider sees more clearly. I wouldn’t dare to treat your matter lightly. If you are truly caught between two choices and cannot decide, I might have a simple way to help you.”

“What way?”

“It’s quite simple...”

Song You calmly reached into his sleeve and pulled out a copper coin, immediately drawing the attention of both Heroine Wu and the cat.

“This is a Mingde Tongbao copper coin[1],” he explained. “A small denomination. One side bears the words Mingde Tongbao—we’ll call that the head. The other side is engraved with sun and moon patterns—we’ll call that the tail. Since you are caught between two choices, assign one decision to the head and the other to the tail. Then we’ll see which side lands upwards.”

“Leave it to fate?”

“Yes—and no.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just asking fate to lend a hand.”

“What superstitious nonsense,” Heroine Wu muttered, frowning. Yet, trusting her old friend, she complied. “If the head lands upwards, I’ll pursue justice, going only after the culprits themselves. If the tail lands upwards, I’ll follow the rules of the jianghu and repay blood with blood, targeting their entire families.”

“Alright.” Song You smiled faintly and flicked the coin.

Ding!

The copper coin flew into the air.

Both Heroine Wu and the cat tilted their heads upward, their eyes fixed on the spinning coin.

The cat's eyes were wide open.

Heroine Wu was equally focused, her gaze unyielding.

The copper coin spun rapidly in the air, rising and falling, until it landed in the Daoist's hand.

Whoosh!

The cat instantly turned its head to look at her student.

Heroine Wu's expression darkened immediately.

With the keen eyesight of the calico cat demon, the spinning copper coin was no faster than a slow-motion reel. And given her knack for money-related matters, she had no difficulty seeing which side was facing up. Heroine Wu, though a mortal, had honed exceptional vision and reflexes through a lifetime of martial practice and could also clearly see the result.

When it landed in Song You’s hand, it unmistakably landed tails.

The Daoist smiled as he asked, “Which side did you hope for?”

“I saw it,” Heroine Wu said bluntly.

“Forget what you saw. Tell me what you hoped for,” Song You replied. “The decision wasn’t handed over to fate—it was merely asking for fate’s assistance. As the coin spun and fell, surely the answer in your heart became clear.”

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“...”

Heroine Wu fell silent for a moment before finally speaking. “I suppose I didn’t really want it to be tails...”

The Daoist opened his palm.

In his hand, the square-holed coin rested, and the side facing up bore the words Mingde Tongbao—the head.

1. "Tongbao" was a term used for Chinese copper coins from the early Tang dynasty to the late Qing dynasty. ☜