Unintended Immortality-Chapter 402: What Will the World Look Like a Millennium From Now

“Daoist Master, do you truly lack feelings?” the woman, dressed in white, locked her gaze unwaveringly on him. “Or is it that the knot we left in your heart before cannot be untied, no matter what we do?”

“Rebuilding the Ghost City was only possible thanks to your yin-yang spiritual energy. Truly a meritorious act. If you are willing to stay and guard the Ghost City to ensure the smooth formation of the underworld, preventing interference from gods, Buddhas, and demons, that would be another great merit.” Song You’s tone was still soft and calm, almost weary from sitting too long on the high platform.

He added, “You have no direct ties to the human world, so this exchange is made with sincerity.”

“I only helped you, not the human world. Just as I played the qin here only to ease your boredom,” the woman replied.

“You seem unwilling,” Song You remarked.

“It seems you still don't believe in our sincerity...” The woman’s gaze lowered for a moment, and when she raised her eyes again, they carried a new calmness.

She smiled faintly and said, “Fine. If you don’t believe, so be it. An exchange is an exchange... But if you now ask us to guard the Ghost City, what about the other exchange we discussed earlier? Do you no longer need our help in your battle against the heavens?”

“If you are willing to guard the Ghost City and bring peace to the spirits, I would already be deeply grateful,” Song You replied.

“I have another proposal,” she said.

“Go on,” Song You said, bowing courteously.

“The exchange we spoke of before remains the same. When the day comes that you truly need us—when you need the power of an ancient being to aid you in your struggle against the heavens—we will sacrifice the ancestor’s severed tail and a hundred years of our lifespan to summon that ancient power. We will fight alongside you with all our strength, with no regrets, even if it costs our lives.

“And if we are fortunate enough to survive alongside you,” she added, her gaze steady and profound, “we ask for nothing more than half a Longevity Pill.”

She paused briefly before continuing:

“As for the mortal world's Ghost City, it’s merely ten or so years. We stayed in Changjing for a decade, and before that, we waited for over a hundred years. If helping you now burns another hundred years, what’s ten more years of boredom to us?

“If you ask us as if we were old friends, we are willing to guard this place for ten years, until the underworld is formed—without asking for anything in return.”

“However, if that’s the case, I won’t have the time to pass on my lineage,” the woman said softly. “So I’ll need to bring the remaining younger members of the Yuezhou foxes here. I’ll teach them my cultivation methods and techniques. Once the ten years are up and the underworld is formed, I will leave this place and still aid you in your battle against the heavens, even if it costs my life.”

For a brief moment, Song You’s gaze flickered.

At his feet, where the calico cat had somehow already plopped herself down, she suddenly sat up straighter, her ears twitching attentively as she stared unblinkingly at the fox.

“What do you think?” The woman fixed her sharp gaze on him.

“You underestimate what these ten years will mean,” Song You said after a moment of silence. “The Heavenly Palace is at a standstill now not solely because of my power but because I hold the moral and lawful advantage in this matter. The moment we leave, the Heavenly Palace will undoubtedly find ways to seize control of the underworld’s positions and power.

“The Ghost City will need your yin-yang spiritual energy to maintain its functions. It will also need your help to support Divine Lord Yuewang in withstanding the pressure. Once you assist in the smooth formation of the underworld, I will offer you an entire Longevity Pill. At that time, you can take your time establishing the foxes' legacy and pursuing the path to nine tails.”

“Daoist Master, you are truly heartless...”

“I have also been sincere toward you,” Song You replied evenly.

“Fine, fine,” the woman said, lowering her gaze to the ground. “I once said I wanted to meet you again in Yangdu. It seems that fate won’t allow it. But perhaps this is for the best. If I cannot have your true feelings, a chance at longevity and nine tails might not be such a bad exchange. It might even be easier than what I originally sought.”

“On the day the underworld is formed, the Longevity Pill will be yours,” Song You promised.

“I still only want half of it!”

“Why?”

“Changyuanzi might not know, but surely you do?” The fox chuckled slyly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked at him. “What’s the difference between eating one pill, half a pill, or even ten pills?”

“Fair point,” Song You nodded calmly.

Though the State Preceptor had unparalleled intellect, his cultivation was shallow, and his knowledge of ancient matters and understanding of the Heavenly Dao was limited. He would never have realized that the Heavenly Dao had long forbidden true immortality.

The State Preceptor even dreamed of refining ten furnaces of Longevity Pills to achieve ten thousand years of life.

Yes—

The immortality he sought was ten thousand years of lifespan.

But what he didn’t know was that the Heavenly Dao forbade true immortality. Long ago, it severed the path to eternal life for most beings under the heavens. Even if he found a new path to longevity, it would only last for a few hundred, perhaps a thousand years at most, before being snuffed out again.

One pill might extend life by a few hundred years. Half a pill would do the same. Even ten pills together would still only add a few hundred years.

There might be differences, but they weren’t significant.

Song You couldn’t be entirely sure if this was why the fox only asked for half a pill.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“It's just an exchange,” the fox replied, her voice still calm but much quieter than before. “You gain your underworld, and we gain longevity. How could gratitude even factor in?”

She paused for a moment before continuing softly, “But while seeking longevity, I often pondered a question.”

“Please, share it.”

“Daoist Master, what do you think the world will look like a thousand years from now? Which dynasty will rule? What kind of world will it be?”

“You’re already thinking of a thousand years into the future?”

“I am,” the woman said. “After all, it’s not just humans who have civilization and history—we demons do as well. But the way demons record history is quite different from how humans do it.”

“...”

“Humans write down every major event. A decade can fill a book, a century can pile up into a basket, and a millennium might fill an entire room—maybe even more. But for demons, our history spans millennia, and yet a thousand years might only be recorded in a single book.”

The woman smiled faintly and said, “With your temperament, Daoist, I think you would find a demon's history book quite fascinating. In our records, the span of time is vast. When I read it, it only took me two days to go through several thousand years.

“For example, over a thousand years ago, it’s said that human nobility would bury the living alongside the dead, and even the gods of the heavens demanded living sacrifices or severed heads as offerings. Back then, neither gods nor mortals thought there was anything wrong with this. The thoughts and culture of that era were entirely different from what they are now.

“Sometimes I think, even though emperors ruled then and still rule now, the world of that time seems like a completely different world compared to today. So I often wonder, what kind of world will it become in hundreds or even thousands of years?”

“Perhaps the changes will be even greater than those between a thousand years ago and today,” Song You said.

“Will it?”

“When you achieve nine tails, you can see it for yourself.”

“Naturally,” the woman replied, her gaze distant. “But the thought of stepping into that future—a new and unfamiliar world, under a different dynasty, where different poetry and music are sung, with new customs and cultures—fills me with a profound loneliness.

“The idea of walking through such a strange era, looking around and finding no familiar faces... It feels like when I first gained sentience and walked alone across empty plains. I still remember that evening clearly—it was during a sunset.”

“You will still have your tails,” Song You said.

“That’s true,” she replied, smiling faintly and bowing slightly. “I will guard this place. Daoist Master, you may go.”

“Farewell,” Song You said, turning to leave.

The woman stood in silence, watching them go.

As the Daoist gradually walked into the distance, the little cat following at his feet kept glancing back at them as it walked away. Only when they had disappeared from sight did the woman retract her gaze. She closed her eyes and stood there in quiet contemplation.

“...”

After some time, the woman opened her eyes. She didn’t say a word, only let out a deep sigh.

“Sigh...”

Before her, the green stone qin platform dissolved into the wind, and the ancient qin transformed into a wisp of green smoke, dissipating into the air.

The woman turned away and, with a single step, transformed into her true form: an eight-tailed fox demon. Without glancing again at the distant Daoist, she leaped gracefully, stepping into the air. In the blink of an eye, she reached the edge of the mortal world's Ghost City—a location far from the central city, separate from Divine Lord Yuewang’s residence and the Buddhist temple, standing in its own direction.

The fox demon, her eight tails flowing behind her, sat upright.

Then, she closed her eyes.

“Crack... Crack...”

Behind her, a seed sprouted, breaking through the seemingly illusory ground. It grew rapidly, becoming a massive plum tree in the blink of an eye. The tree’s branches and leaves flourished, as if it were shielding the fox demon from wind and rain.

Almost simultaneously, the eight-tailed fox transformed into a stone statue from bottom to top, sitting vigil over this corner of the Ghost City.

***

Two days later, in the empty temple...

The monk, leaning on his wooden staff, arrived at the small temple. His body was frail, and he coughed incessantly.

The two large ghosts still followed close behind him.

Back in Hezhou’s Gui Commandery, during his efforts to aid the afflicted during the monster plague, he had expended too much of his vitality. By the time he reached Fengzhou, he was already nearing the end of his life. After spending half a year in the Ghost City, his body was entirely spent, his flame nearly extinguished.

The temple was modest, just large enough to accommodate one person.

The monk bent low to enter and turned to the two ghosts, giving them a final instruction. Then he set his wooden staff aside, placing it upside down, and sat cross-legged inside the temple.

He took out his prayer beads, closed his eyes, and lowered his head as he recited scripture. When he completed one full cycle of the scripture, the prayer beads fell from his hands.

The monk’s head bowed deeply.

“...”

In that moment, the willing devotion of incense and spiritual energy, gathered from all across the mortal world and the Ghost City’s spirits, converged upon him, forging for him a divine body and sacred form.

The monk emerged from the small temple once more, his expression serene and calm.

The monk turned back to look. Inside the temple, there was now only a lifeless body.

“Amitabha...”

He raised a hand and waved toward it.

The mortal remains instantly transformed into a statue, seemingly carved from wood. It had no mouth or nose, no ears or eyes, as if it was still unfinished, waiting to be sculpted.

The monk turned his gaze away and strode into the distance, while the two great ghosts followed at his side.

***

At the gates of the Ghost City, Song You had already packed his belongings.

With the jujube-red horse at his side, he stood at the entrance.

Behind him, a throng of ghost officials and soldiers had come to see him off.

“Immortal Master, where will you go now?”

“I will travel the world, and along the way, gather the soils of the five directions needed to forge the underworld for all of you.”

“When will you return, Immortal Master?”

“I will return on the day the underworld takes form.”

“Immortal Master...”

“The sun rises ahead. Please, do not follow me further.”

At this, the gathered ghost officials and soldiers halted their steps. Behind them, countless spirits of the Ghost City had gathered.

No matter whether these spirits had been virtuous or sinful in life, regardless of their past deeds, they all stood quietly now, watching the Daoist as he departed.

The expressions of the ghosts varied, but every one of them was filled with gratitude.

From the early spring of last year, when the Daoist first arrived, every action he had taken in this place had been witnessed by these spirits.

Looking back on it, the Daoist was neither a ghost nor one who benefited from them in any way. With his unparalleled abilities, he could have joined forces with the State Preceptor or worked alongside the gods of the Heavenly Palace. Either path could have brought him immense personal gain through the underworld and the countless spirits. Yet, he chose neither.

Even now, as he departed, he did so with such calm and detachment, not even lingering a few extra days. Even the simplest of ghosts understood what the Daoist had done for them. And even the wisest of ghosts might never fully grasp why he did it.

Song You paused, turned back, and looked once more at the Ghost City.

At its center, the city was nearly complete. The four palaces had been temporarily established, designated for the spirits of the underworld. On the far edges of the city, standing in three different directions, the godly emperor stood at the entrance of his residence, raising a cup in a distant toast. In another direction, at the small, humble temple, there stood only a featureless wooden statue.

Further away, the fox demon had become a stone figure, standing in solitude.

“Where’s the fox’s tail?”

A voice came from beside him. It was Lady Calico.

Over the past year, Lady Calico had kept herself entertained, practicing her cultivation, doing chores, and often seeking out the fox demon’s tail to play with. It was said that she greatly enjoyed it—at least, the fox’s tail was willing to eat the things she caught for it.

“The fox’s tail is naturally with the fox,” Song You replied casually. Before the spirits behind him could kneel again, he turned and began walking away. “Let’s go, Lady Calico.”

“Okay!” The calico cat immediately followed him.

The jujube-red horse and the swallow also followed closely behind.

Behind them, Divine Lord Yuewang drank his cup dry, the monk seated cross-legged in the Ghost City folded his hands in silent prayer, and even the fox’s stone statue seemed to open its eyes.

The sunlight outside was dazzling, so bright it was almost blinding.

As they stepped out, the world seemed to be a vast expanse of white.

The calico cat’s pupils instantly narrowed into thin slits, and Song You squinted as well. When their vision finally adjusted, they were met with the vibrant light of spring.