Unintended Immortality

Chapter 66: The Grace of the Swordsman

This was the first thunder peal of the year.

“Rumble...”

Spring thunder rolled continuously. It sounded like a giant stone roller was moving across the sky.

The swordsman's brow furrowed tighter as he glanced several times at the coffin behind him, then at the Daoist standing at the doorway.

The Daoist wasn't old, seemingly about the same age as him, though he appeared much younger.

In front of him was a fire, kept burning small apparently to save firewood. He had a bamboo staff and a bedding bag full of belongings. A cloth bag was sewn onto the bedding bag. It contained a calico cat, which the swordsman had seen a few days ago at the Great Liujiang Gathering. The cat was pretty and poked its head out of the cloth bag at that moment, tilting its head and staring straight at him.

He had known for a few days that this Daoist was no ordinary person.

When he entered the door earlier, although the sky was very dark, he vaguely saw a swallow in the nest under the eaves. There had also been a swallow in the sky these few days, a rare sight for this season.

At that moment, he saw the Daoist reach into his bedding bag as if to take something out.

The swordsman squinted his eyes until he saw that he was just taking out two steamed buns and some wild fruits. He relaxed somewhat but then noticed a pair of shoes in the bedding bag due to the Daoist’s movement…

They were a tiny pair of girl's shoes that had been worn before.

This Daoist traveled alone with only a cat, and at most a swallow, but why bring a pair of girl's shoes?

In short, something felt off, very off.

However, the swordsman, despite his keen eyes, also knew the wisdom of “Do not meddle in others' affairs in the jianghu, being nosy often leads to early death.” No matter how capable you are, being a busybody usually doesn't end well. If it weren't for the continuous movement from the coffin behind him, he wouldn't have bothered to ask or even speak to him. Come dawn tomorrow, the world is vast, and who would know whom?

“Rumble!”

The coffin shook again, this time more noticeably.

The swordsman looked at the Daoist before him who was close to the fire, seemingly focused on heating the steamed buns with his eyes fixed on the fire, oblivious to the movement inside the house.

“Sir.”

“What is it?”

“Did you hear the movement from inside the coffin?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you so calm?”

“Because I already knew.”

“Don’t tell me this has something to do with you?”

“Hmm?” Song You looked up at the swordsman, “We are both travelers in the mountains who happened to pass by and stay here for the night. Why do you think it would have anything to do with me?”

The swordsman's expression softened, “I was presumptuous but how did you know it would rise?”

“Today is Jingzhe.[1]”

“And what's the significance?”

“During Jingzhe, when the spring thunder first rumbles, life bursts forth, awakening all things. Hibernating stinging insects emerge. Demons and ghosts stir. If any evil creature is about to emerge at this time, it may be awakened by the thunder. Any demon or ghost that has committed misdeeds will be terrified and thrown into confusion by the thunder. If they run out at this moment, they will be conveniently struck dead by the heavenly thunder.”

Song You looked at him calmly. “Yin qi has accumulated here and the person in the coffin might be awakened.”

“I see...” The swordsman narrowed his eyes, pondered for a moment and made up his mind. Thereupon, he cupped his fist in apology and respect, “Sir, your knowledge is profound. I am impressed.”

“I'm not particularly knowledgeable, I just knew it before you. Now you know too, don't you?”

“How wonderful!”

“Are you afraid now?”

“Hah...” After listening, the young swordsman relaxed instead and continued to sit. He placed his long sword across his knees and said as he drank wine, “If one often walked wilderness roads at night, and often lodged in dilapidated temples and cemeteries, encountering demons and ghosts was inevitable. I’ve toasted a few mountain demons and minor gods with this pot of wine, and killed many ghosts, monsters and evil creatures with this sword...”

His tone was easy and calm, without a trace of fear.

A swordsman naturally must have a fearless heart.

Just then…

“Boom!” Another thunderclap sounded.

With a dull crash behind him, the coffin lid actually fell on the floor, and a figure stood up from within.

He was half-dry, half-decayed, hunched over, but his face was ferocious, with dense rows of teeth like steel swords and hooked claws like metal hooks—looking like a terrifying evil creature.

Song You sat still, merely turning his head to look at the swordsman.

The calico cat shrank back into the cloth bag. It just poked its head out and looked at the swordsman too.

The fire crackled, casting ghostly shadows on the wall.

The swordsman stood up slowly, shaking his head as he drew his sword.

“Clang...” The long sword left its sheath, cold as frost.

The evil creature, upon seeing a living person, immediately growled low and pounced like a ferocious tiger seeing fresh meat.

The swordsman effortlessly met it with his sword.

“Swish!” Foul blood splattered in abundance, black and stinking.

Then the head fell, rolling on the floor.

The swordsman casually flicked the filth off his sword.

Newly-formed evil creatures, no matter how strong, were still flesh and blood, not made of iron. Ordinary sabers and swords might struggle somewhat at most when it comes to hacking them. How could it withstand this swordsman with his consummate skill?

But then, something eerie happened again.

The headless corpse didn't fall to the floor, instead it turned to face him. The head on the floor rolled around, its mouth opening and closing, eyes fixed on the swordsman and the Daoist.

“Sigh...” The swordsman sighed, shaking his head as he advanced with his sword.

In just a moment…

A pile of mangled limbs and rotten flesh wriggled on the floor. Meanwhile the swordsman sat majestically on the bench where the coffin had been placed. He leaned back, holding his sword in one hand and raising his head to pour wine down his throat with the other.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared, revealing the traces of rain in the night, and the wind rustling the grass, but he remained calm.

This was the grace of a top swordsman in this world.

No wonder he moved through Liujiang undefeated.

Song You suddenly realized…

Perhaps it wasn't him who was meant to encounter this coffin here today, but this swordsman in front of him. He was just an incidental observer.

Also, this carefree moment was already etched in his memory.

The swordsman finished his wine at that moment and turned to look at him. “Since you knew there was an evil creature emerging here, but still stayed here overnight, were you specially waiting for it?”

“Sort of.” Song You only came back to himself then. As he replied, he picked up his bamboo staff and lightly tapped the floor twice with it.

“Thumpthump...”

The mangled limbs and rotten flesh on the floor immediately stopped moving.

The swordsman's eyes immediately sharpened again.

In both the jianghu and the court, there were actually many talented eccentrics. He had also seen exorcists before, both Buddhist masters as well as folk practitioners, each had their own methods.

Some people knew some rustic methods, understood what different demons and ghosts fear and how to deal with them. Some knew how to draw talismans with cinnabar for various purposes. Some could chant a few phrases of incantations and use minor magic, while others knew how to set up altars and perform magic to invite gods or spirits to possess them. In short, each had their own skills. As for which method was more effective, it actually depended more on individual proficiency.

But he had never seen it done so effortlessly.

It seemed like he had merely tapped the floor twice with his bamboo staff, without lighting incense or candles, without talismans, or reciting magic incantations. There was also no cool breeze or divine light. It seemed very ordinary.

The swordsman couldn’t help pondering.

Then, with a whoosh in front of him, the mangled limbs and pieces of flesh actually ignited, emitting a foul stench.

In just a few breaths, they were all burned up clean.

“Your swordsmanship is excellent.”

“Your skills are impressive too.”

“May I ask where you studied?”

“That's not convenient to disclose.”

“I’ve been presumptuous.”

“Not at all.” The swordsman waved it off, continuing, “You passed by here, and specially stayed behind to wait for it to emerge. Were you thinking of using this opportunity to eliminate a menace for the people?”

“More or less.”

“Then why didn't you act right away?”

“Because it might not necessarily have awakened. The sound of the Jingzhe thunder simply worked as a catalyst to awaken it. If it awoke and went out the door, the heavenly thunder would naturally take care of it. I just needed to keep it from running wild. If it didn't wake, the energy of the thunder would disperse the yin qi, and it wouldn't wake in the future. Respecting the dead is important.” Song You shook his head, “Now I think, maybe it wasn't me who waited here for it, but you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fate works in mysterious ways.”

Outside, the sound of rain began to patter softly.

Song You sat cross-legged on the floor, closed his eyes, and simply immersed himself in the spiritual resonance of this part of the world.

The swordsman sat back down on the floor and also leaned against the wall, motionless.

But he did not sleep, his eyes remained open.

The fire at the side had not yet gone out, and though it was not very close, its warmth reached them, warding off some of the rainy spring night's chill.

When the evil creature had risen earlier, the swallow outside had taken flight, hovering at the doorway, chirping incessantly. He did not know what it was chirping. After the creature was executed, the swallow disappeared again.

Now the Daoist had already closed his eyes, and aside from the small fire still burning in front of the eyes, only the calico cat in the cloth bag kept its head out, staring unblinkingly at the swordsman. It seemed to find their staring contest very amusing, or perhaps it simply had nothing else to do.

“Rumble...”

Unnoticed, the night outside had already darkened to inky black. Thunder continuously rumbled, and lightning connected the heavens and earth, wildly branching out, illuminating the outlines of the mountains and reflecting countless raindrops. Each strike was very close.

At times, the swordsman even felt the lightning landed right at the doorway or exploded overhead, casting the eaves' shadow on the ground outside.

In contrast, thunder and lightning were scarce in the distance.

The young swordsman couldn't help but suspect…

Could it be that there was yin qi here, hence making this spot the focus of the spring thunder's attention? Had the surrounding thunder and lightning all converged here?

“Rumble...” The thunder and lightning really seemed endless.

Under such heavenly might, what demon could withstand it?

The swordsman seemed both puzzled and thoughtful, seemingly realizing something from the swift, impetuous, immense power of the heavens and earth at that moment. He stared into the night, lost in thought.

This was the first thunder of the four seasons. It seemed as if it had been nurtured throughout the entire winter, and was now bursting forth with unparalleled power and the momentum to awaken all things. Yet, it still possessed ample force, continuous and unending, carrying both the destructive power to annihilate everything and the vitality to inspire life in heaven and earth. It was truly paradoxical.

A paradox filled with wondrous charm.

He seemed to have gained some insight, yet perhaps not.

Understanding the Sword Dao? It was indeed an elusive thing.

All martial arts in the world, whether unarmed combat or wielding weapons like swords, spears, or halberds, fundamentally relied on practicing, fighting, and eating more. Diligence naturally led to improvement, while slacking and sluggishness resulted in regression. Elusive things remain elusive in the end. The insights gained from martial arts or the Sword Dao were both intangible and hard to find. Even if one manages to capture them, it doesn’t necessarily enhance their combat skills.

The swordsman had heard of predecessors from a hundred years ago whose martial arts skills were divine, with every move and gesture imbued with power. Although such tales always seem to come from an unreachable past, he was willing to believe they were true.

Just like the sword in his hand—

Three years ago, it had cut down its first ghost, and the cold frost had never dissipated. Instead, with each subsequent ghost slaying, it layered upon itself. Although it had not become a divine weapon, it made killing demons and ghosts increasingly effortless.

What else could be impossible?

“Rumble!”

The thunder seemed to grow fiercer, with a strong oppressive force that made it hard to breathe. The lightning, like frost and snow, was like sword energy slashing right before his eyes, making him involuntarily hold his breath.

The swordsman gradually furrowed his brow.

Where did it not thunder?

Which year did not have Jingzhe?

Why was that night's thunder so different?

1. “Insects Wake”, 3rd of the 24 solar terms in the traditional Chinese calendar. ☜