Unintended Immortality

In addition to providing delicious food and drink, the old man prepared a room for Song You and the cat to stay in.

The Daoist thanked him respectfully and settled in.

Indeed, there was no day or night here; from the beginning until now, it had been dusk.

By this time, most of the old man's family had gone to sleep, and it was nearly time for the Daoist to rest as well. However, sitting by the window and gazing at the scenery outside during dusk made it difficult for him to fall asleep.

This feeling was quite interesting.

In the past, while in the outside world, he could sense the cycle of seasons and the alternation of yin and yang, but he didn’t perceive it so clearly. It was like air; one is constantly breathing and can be acutely aware of its existence, but when placed in a place without air, one would inevitably gain a new understanding of its presence.

Time gradually passed.

The cat ran a few laps around the room before finally lying down on the bed, half-closing its eyes, ready to sleep.

The Daoist, on the other hand, sat cross-legged. He was calming his mind to perceive the spiritual resonance of the world and experience the mysteries of this realm.

This world was both somewhat similar to and vastly different from the outside. It relied on the outside world for existence yet was isolated, forming its own unique realm with very different rules.

Song You had many points of confusion, but the most perplexing aspect was its existence within a painting. And regardless of the perplexities, since it truly existed, there must be great mysteries within.

By calming his mind and contemplating, he could achieve profound insights.

To put it simply…

The so-called mastery of skills, whether in sculpture, painting, or musical talent, when taken to the extreme, was not about connecting with deities or spirits, but rather about understanding this world itself.

His acquaintance with Sir Dou was destined to yield great rewards.

***

Here, there was no alternation of day and night, no seasonal changes, and the world was different from the outside. Even Song You could not perceive the passage of time; he only knew that the cat had fallen asleep and then woken up again. It had come close to him several times and walked on his legs before returning, but its sleep had never been regular, so he couldn’t deduce how long it had been.

If he were outside, it would have likely been an entire night.

There was some commotion outside, and his legs felt slightly itchy. The Daoist opened his eyes and immediately looked down.

The cat had also sensed the noise outside and was standing at the bedside, stretching its neck to look out the window.

However, even when she stretched her neck as far as possible, it was still not high enough; standing up like a person seemed too troublesome. So, it placed its two front paws on the Daoist's thigh to raise her upper body, bringing her line of sight level with the window as it peered outside at the noisy crowd.

“Hmm, Daoist Master, you’re awake…”

The cat turned its head to look at him, its paws still on his leg. If he weren’t wearing pants, moving its paws would surely leave marks on his thigh.

“I’m awake.”

“There are people outside.”

“Yeah.”

The voices from outside had already drifted into the room.

These were other villagers, and even some from neighboring villages, who had heard that someone from the outside had come. They were very surprised, eager to witness the novelty and broaden their horizons.

The old man's family had just woken up, claiming that their guest was still sleeping and keeping the visitors outside.

The Daoist exchanged glances with the cat, stood up, and pushed the door open.

“Ah, the Daoist Master is awake!”

“Hello, everyone.”

“Is the Daoist really from the outside?”

“Indeed.”

“What’s it like outside now?”

“…”

As expected, another round of questioning began. The Daoist patiently answered their questions one by one.

As he answered, new visitors kept arriving. Thus, he had to answer the same questions many times.

In the morning, someone invited him for a meal, and at noon, another invitation came. The villagers were very enthusiastic, all eager to invite the Daoist to their homes for a feast of chicken and goose, with good wine and food.

After two or three days, people from faraway places had heard about this Daoist from the outside world and came specifically to visit.

Some of them were even individuals who had come from the outside before.

In the old man's memory, the last time someone from the outside had entered was during his youth. Even now, the young person who had come in back then had not yet passed away.

Upon seeing the Daoist, they asked even more detailed questions. Sometimes, when they talked about things present in the outside world but absent here, or discussed the changes and vicissitudes of the outside world, they expressed deep sentiments. Yet, no one was willing to venture out.

This continued for several days.

Almost every day, someone invited the Daoist to visit, generously offering food—be it fish or meat—treating him at every household, showcasing their simple and honest customs.

On the fourth or fifth day, after waking from a good sleep, the host informed him that yet another visitor had come.

The Daoist stepped outside and saw a middle-aged man.

“Immortal Master…” the middle-aged man exclaimed softly, glancing around. Then, regaining his composure, he greeted the Daoist, saying, “I’ve heard that you have come from the outside. May I have the honor of inviting you to my humble home for a chat?” Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Song You smiled in response. He then turned to thank the host for the hospitality and called the cat, following the middle-aged man away.

They gradually left the village.

“Immortal Master!”

Only then did Sir Dou pay his respects.

“Sir, you need not be so courteous; I am quite unworthy of such kindness,” the Daoist said as they walked.

“That day, I was in a hurry and forgot to inform you of my address. That was truly inexcusable, and I must apologize,” Sir Dou replied, bowing again.

“Don’t mention it, sir.” The Daoist chuckled.

“Since arriving here, I have been touched by the simple and honest customs of this place. The villagers are all so warm and welcoming; I have been treated to meals for several days now. Such experiences are rare in the outside world. Moreover, this place is rich in spiritual resonance and profound mysteries.

“Since coming here, I have gained much insight and knowledge. I should be thanking you, sir.”

“I wonder how long you have been here?”

“About a few days.”

“Ah, I am so forgetful…”

“Please don’t say that,” the Daoist replied, not wishing to engage in too much politeness. He shifted the topic. “May I ask where you reside?”

“All the people here are connected to the Dou family’s ancestors. I only occasionally come to visit my wife; most of the time, I am outside, which is quite inconvenient. Thus, I have taken the name Kou Xuan and live alone at the foot of the mountain ahead. It’s just below the Tianhe Temple on Mount Cang, quite far from the surrounding villages,” Sir Dou explained.

He continued, “Today, I went out to buy supplies and heard people talking about your arrival, so I came to invite you.”

“Sir, you truly need not have gone to such trouble,” Song You replied. “I came in search of you, not for anything specific. I have been admiring this painting at home, gaining insights from its spiritual resonance and mysteries over the past few days. Out of curiosity about what the painting depicts, I entered rather abruptly and did not expect to disturb you, Sir Dou.”

“Not at all, not at all.” Sir Dou quickly waved his hand, leading the way as they walked and spoke.

“Have you been to the lake?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“That’s good.”

“Why is that?”

“I was afraid you might accidentally wander out.”

“I heard that someone has walked out before?”

“Indeed.”

Sir Dou explained to him, “The painted world within the painting represents the outside world. Though it forms its own realm and is isolated from the outside, it is still connected to it. There is an invisible wall separating the two, yet people often accidentally walk out.”

“If there’s a barrier, why do some people occasionally manage to walk out?”

“Ah, that is something you may not know,” Sir Dou replied. “Long ago, our ancestors painted their hometown at dusk. While the world in the painting is frozen at that time, the outside world continues to change. For an ordinary person standing at the edge, the painted world will always be at dusk, while the outside could be any time of day, making it impossible to step out.

“However, if an ordinary person happens to reach the edge when the outside world coincidentally matches the moment painted by our ancestors, they could walk out.”

“How marvelous!”

“This is a secret, so I ask that you…”

“I understand.” The Daoist nodded, then asked, “But if one were to walk out, where would they go?”

“Ah, that we cannot know,” Sir Dou said. “Perhaps they vanish without a trace, or perhaps they find themselves in the outside world. But very few have managed to walk out; the outside world is vast and boundless, and wherever a person ends up, it is like a drop in the ocean. No news of them has ever reached us.”

“Is that so?” The Daoist found it increasingly intriguing.

Following Sir Dou, they strolled along, chatting casually. They passed through several villages, changing paths a few times, until they reached the foot of Mount Cang.

Sir Dou pointed to a few small houses visible in the distance and said to the Daoist, “That is where we’re headed.”

A small path led through the woods.

In front of the house, there were chickens and ducks, along with a dog. Only Sir Dou and his wife lived there, and the nearest village and residents were about two li away.

“After you, immortal master,” Sir Dou respectfully invited him inside.

Inside the house hung three paintings.

One depicted an armored general accompanied by two archers, another showed a fierce tiger descending the mountain, and the last was a painting of a night demon.

The Daoist immediately focused on these three paintings.

“This is embarrassing. This place is remote, and the local customs are simple. Plus, my home previously housed only my humble wife. Thus, I painted a few pieces,” Sir Dou hurriedly explained. He glanced at Song You, marveling at how he seemed to instantly perceive the mysteries within the paintings.

He continued, “Though I lack the ability of our ancestors to bring the painted figures to life or make the mountains real, the things I’ve painted possess some spiritual resonance. Coupled with my long contemplation of these paintings, including the one of the two tigers fighting over a mountain, I’ve gained some insights. In this painted world, things that shouldn’t come to life can indeed come alive.”

“Sir, your paintings are excellent,” the Daoist praised simply, yet he stood there, gazing intently at the paintings for a long time.

Sir Dou quickly went to kill a chicken with his wife, preparing a sumptuous feast. When they reached the dining table, he felt that there was no fine wine, so he picked up a brush and drew an overturned kettle on the wall. When he placed a cup next to it, exquisite grape wine actually poured out from it. He brought it over to Song You, and when he tasted it, he found it especially rich and delightful.

As the two enjoyed their meal and wine, they chatted leisurely.

They talked about this world, the esteemed ancestor, unparalleled painting skills, and the mysteries of existence.

As the saying went, “There must be something in others' words and actions that one can learn from.” In front of them was a master of extraordinary painting skills and a direct descendant of a divine painter. That ancestor could justifiably be called a god of painting.

Engaging in conversation with him provided insights even for the Daoist who had come down from the Hidden Dragon Temple. Some confusions that had lingered since his visit to Master Kong years ago were naturally unraveled in their casual talk.

The mysteries of heaven and earth and the ways of the world seemed to defy any rules. Yet, upon closer examination, they became clear and distinct.

Sometimes, even after much pondering, one might find it hard to grasp. But in a moment of enlightenment, it would reveal itself to be so simple.

By the time they had eaten halfway, the wine jug on the wall gradually faded. After chatting a bit longer, it had completely vanished, as if it had never existed at all. Those present, apart from the cat, seemed indifferent to this occurrence.