Unintended Immortality-Chapter 347: The Copycat and Copyman

“What is that?”

“A cat?”

“Why is Her Majesty's cat wandering over here again?”

“Those cats are quite skilled, you know—scaling walls and rooftops is nothing for them.”

“Should we catch it and return it to Her Majesty? Otherwise, if she finds one of her cats missing, she’ll have us scouring the entire palace again in the middle of the night.”

A group of guards chatted among themselves as they brought their lanterns closer, illuminating the cat on the ground.

The calico cat sat upright, tilting her head as she gazed at them.

Her fur was pristine, her posture elegant, her features delicate, and her eyes sparkled with intelligence. The way she tilted her head made it seem as if she could speak, as though she were asking them what they were muttering about.

“A calico cat? I don’t remember Her Majesty ever keeping a calico cat!”

“This cat is stunning!”

“And clever too—looks like she climbed up onto the lantern post to stay warm in the cold.”

“I heard His Majesty entertained a guest today at Changle Palace—an immortal master of some sort who brought a cat along. That guest is said to be quite esteemed by His Majesty. Could this be the one?”

“A cat? An esteemed guest?”

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As the group whispered among themselves, the calico cat tilted her head even further in response to their conversation, her expressive eyes locked on them, as if growing more perplexed by their discussion.

Just then, a voice called out from behind them, “Let’s go, Lady Calico.”

“...!”

The cat immediately turned her head.

The guards also followed her gaze and saw a young Daoist standing there, with several palace attendants holding lanterns behind him. The calico cat, as if she understood the words, stretched lazily before gracefully leaping down from the lantern post. She glanced briefly at the guards, then trotted over to the Daoist.

The Daoist raised his eyes and nodded politely at the guards before taking a step forward.

The attendants and the cat followed at his side.

Faintly, the guards could hear the Daoist speaking to the cat.

“Lady Calico, why did you wander over here?”

“It was boring inside.”

“And is it more interesting out here?”

“There are cats here! And mice!”

“In a place this big, there must be plenty of mice.”

“The people here are so impressive!”

“What makes them impressive?”

“The buildings are so big, and there are so many of them. Even the pillars are enormous. It's just very impressive!”

“It's the accumulation of those who came before.”

“The accumulation of those who came before!”

“Yes.”

“Those people over there were talking, and it was really funny.”

“What was funny about it?”

“They sounded so silly.”

“That sounds a bit impolite.”

“Humph!”

The cat walked alongside the Daoist, and as the Daoist looked down to the side, the cat tilted her head up at him. The two continued their conversation as they walked. The cat, curious, asked, “Why did you come out so quickly?”

“It was boring inside,” the Daoist replied, mimicking the cat's earlier words.

“Is it more interesting outside?”

“The air is better outside.”

“The air is better outside!”

“And the light is better outside.”

“The light is better outside!”

“You copycat!”

“And you're mimicking me! You copyman!”

“...” The Daoist shook his head and looked off into the distance.

He hadn't lingered in the palace for long today. The gradient of colors in the sky had yet to fade completely. The rooftops and eaves of the palace buildings stood as silhouettes against the evening light, and the stars had already begun to emerge in the heavens, creating a dreamlike beauty. The cool night breeze cleared the Daoist's mind as he continued walking and chatting with the cat, their path stretching farther and farther.

The palace attendants accompanying them—two senior eunuchs and the head eunuch—listened to their conversation. The senior eunuchs seemed touched by the childlike simplicity of it. Their hearts, long stifled by the confines of palace life, finding a rare moment of peace. However, the head eunuch kept his head low as he walked, trembling slightly, not daring to utter a single word.

Once they exited the palace, Song You declined the palace attendants’ offer of a carriage. Instead, he walked home at a leisurely pace, the cat by his side.

In solitude and quiet, one could reflect on oneself. Thus, walking at night became an enjoyable experience.

After returning home, Song You tried to persuade Lady Calico to take some rest, suggesting she could be as leisurely as the palace cats. However, she wouldn’t listen—she insisted on hunting mice and staying up late to read by lamplight.

A few days later, it was the emperor’s grand birthday celebration.

The entire city of Changjing was abuzz with activity.

The king's birthday was a time for the people to celebrate together. While claiming “universal jubilation” might be an exaggeration, the idea of the entire capital celebrating was entirely accurate.

When the monarch intended to share joy with the people, it wasn’t enough to simply announce, “Today is my birthday; please rejoice with me,” and expect the populace to cheer. Tangible benefits for the people were necessary.

In practical terms, this usually translated into rent reductions and the distribution of porridge at government offices to aid the impoverished.

In Dayan, renting properties was a widespread practice, and even many officials had to rent homes. Whether renting from the Housing Bureau or leasing private residences, transactions had to go through housing brokers, and contracts were required to be filed with the government, effectively necessitating a visit to the local authorities.

Thus, during festivals, the emperor's birthday, the birth of a royal heir, or times of disasters like earthquakes, heavy snow, or extreme heat, rent reductions were a customary way to provide comfort and relief to the people. For the government, it was easy to implement, and for the people, it was a tangible benefit.

Since returning to Changjing and moving back into his little building, Song You had been paying rent monthly.

If the property agents didn’t come to collect, he would take the rent to them himself.

These few days of rent relief during the emperor’s birthday celebration ended up saving him a bit of money.

***

On the tenth day of the winter month...

The weather grew colder with each passing day. Luckily, Song You had returned to Changjing to rest and recover. If he were still traveling outside, it would surely be a miserable experience.

It was said that in a few southern provinces, even in the dead of winter, the weather felt like early summer, with not a trace of cold. However, those regions were shrouded in miasma, sparsely populated, and far from prosperous. Officials transferred there often struggled with the unfamiliar climate and terrain. Who knows what kind of scenery awaited there?

In any case, Song You, who was in in Changjing, rarely rose early. But today was an exception. He headed to the market, bought some fish, sliced it into thin pieces, and cooked a pot of white rice porridge to reward Lady Calico, who had stayed up late last night doing who-knows-what until the middle of the night.

As the porridge finished cooking, the fragrant aroma spread along with the rising steam.

Song You filled two bowls and was about to head upstairs to summon his household's main pillar of support for breakfast when he spotted a cat, half-asleep and squinting, appearing at the corner of the wooden staircase. She cast a dazed look in his direction and mumbled indistinctly, “Daoist priest, what are you cooking...”

“I was just about to invite you to come down for breakfast, but you came down on your own.”

“I smelled the food...”

“You have a keen sense of smell.”

“What are you cooking?”

The cat stopped where she was, lowering her head to look at him. Her eyes were barely open, and her voice was soft.

“Fish porridge.”

“Fish porridge...”

“Come down and eat.”

“Ugh...”

The cat looked at him, then glanced down at the stairs beneath her. She took two instinctive steps forward, but unwilling to walk any further, she simply flopped to her side and slid down the stairs.

Her body was so soft, and the descent so smooth, it was as if she were flowing down the steps like water.

When she finally reached the floor, she noticed the different texture beneath her and got up, shook her head, gave her body a quick shake, then looked up at the Daoist. As if nothing had happened, she walked over.

With effortless grace, she leapt onto the table.

Still groggy, she glanced at the Daoist again. Seeing him pick up his bowl and start eating, she extended her front paws toward her own bowl, attempting to lift it. Realizing her two cat paws couldn’t possibly manage it, she let out a resigned sigh, leaned forward, and slowly lowered her head to lick at the porridge.

“Lady Calico, were you out stealing cows last night?”

“I don’t steal cows,” the cat said, keeping her head down and continuing to lick her porridge.

“Why do I feel like you spent all of last night singlehandedly rebuilding the Great Wall?”

“I’m not human,” the cat replied, still licking her porridge. “I also don't know how to build the Great Wall.”

“You wouldn’t have been up all night reading, would you?”

“...!”

The cat's ears perked up instantly, and her licking paused for a moment before resuming. As she continued to eat, she mumbled vaguely, “I was out catching mice.”

“I see.” Song You nodded and said no more, focusing on his porridge.

This cat was truly competitive.

The Daoist teased her, saying she seemed groggy, as though she hadn’t fully woken up, and even jokingly accused her of staying up all night reading. Perhaps trying to show she wasn’t sleepy or to deny that she had been up studying, she insisted on washing the dishes after breakfast, even though she was so tired she could barely walk straight.

When the Daoist refused her offer, she stubbornly refused to rest, sitting downstairs pretending she wasn’t sleepy. Only after some time passed did she mutter to herself, “Well, there’s nothing to do anyway, might as well sleep,” and finally curled up on the table and fell asleep.

The Daoist opened a book and draped it over her, fitting perfectly as a makeshift blanket.

She fell asleep to the scent of ink. Perhaps, in her dreams, she would continue her studies.

At that moment, there was a visitor outside the house. Song You glanced up and froze in surprise.

The person walking at the front appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties, his face familiar but now marked by more weathering and wrinkles compared to his memory. His hair was streaked with visible silver, and the dignified aura of age clung to him. He was still dressed impeccably as he had been when they first met, his hair meticulously combed, exuding both an official air and literary refinement.

However, he no longer wore ornamental flowers, lending him less elegance but more gravity.

Behind him was another figure, one far fresher in Song You's memory.

The first man was Yu Jianbai, once the prefect of Yizhou and now the imperial secretary. The second was the former county magistrate of Yidu, whom Song You had later encountered as the governor of Pu Commandery in Hezhou.

“Distinguished guests...” The Daoist spoke first as they exchanged glances through the door.

Outside, the two men shared a look, a mix of nostalgia and emotion, before quickly clasping their hands in greeting.

“Greetings, sir.”

“It has been a long time. I wonder if you still remember me, Yu Jianbai?”

“Of course, I remember you,” Song You said sincerely, bowing in return. “The woolen blanket you gifted me when we parted years ago is still in use. It has been nearly six years since then, and in those six years, I’ve traveled countless mountains and rivers and camped in the wilderness who knows how many times. The blanket you gave me has helped me through many cold nights. I owe you my thanks, Prefect Yu.”

He immediately invited them inside and served them tea.

As they conversed, Song You learned about Prefect Yu's accomplishments after his departure from Yizhou. Yu Jianbai had implemented a series of excellent policies, governing Yizhou exceptionally well. In the third year of Mingde, when an earthquake struck Yizhou, his disaster relief efforts were exemplary and earned widespread praise at court.

Although Yizhou was a large prefecture and its prefect counted as a high-ranking official, Yu Jianbai had initially been an influential figure in the imperial court. His assignment to Yizhou was a form of demotion.

In this way, the court became aware of his transformation, and alongside his literary reputation, he gained official recognition. It became widely known that Yu Jianbai's future was bound to be extraordinary.

His swift return to the capital and subsequent appointment to a prominent role were due in no small part to the State Preceptor.

After Song You left the capital the last time, the State Preceptor soon departed for Fengzhou and ceased to involve himself in court affairs. The prime minister, lacking sufficient ability to fill the State Preceptor's shoes, prompted the latter to summon Yu Jianbai back to the capital, where he was appointed Deputy Prime Minister.

Now, seeing him again, Song You immediately noticed the changes in Yu Jianbai.

It was as if fate had fulfilled the potential Song You had sensed when they first met in the bustling streets of a washe. Even then, he had thought this man destined for greatness. Six years later, that destiny had already come to fruition.