Unintended Immortality-Chapter 542: Adding a Bit More Kindness

“Glug, glug...”

“Splish, splash...”

In the long-parched Gobi Desert, the sound of flowing water and splashing waves suddenly echoed.

Countless people stood frozen in shock, unable to believe their eyes. Was this a dream they had yet to wake from? A hallucination before death? Or perhaps an illusion conjured by demons to bewilder their minds—a mirage in the vast desert?

Especially those who had just passed by the Daoist and turned their heads to watch his actions—each of them was utterly dumbfounded.

Before them, clear water surged forth with incredible force. At first, it mixed with the dust of the Gobi, turning murky. But since the land here was mostly composed of fractured rock layers, the water quickly cleared and began spreading outward. Some travelers, who had been walking close to the Daoist, found the water lapping at their feet.

They all lowered their heads, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Water!” At last, someone lunged forward.

Bending down, they scooped up a handful of water.

They had expected to grab at nothing but air, yet instead, they felt the solid weight of cool, clear water in their hands. Under the lingering heat of the desert at dusk, the sensation sent an invigorating chill through them.

Bringing it to their lips, they drank, and it was as sweet and refreshing as celestial nectar.

“It's real water!”

“It's not an illusion!”

“We're saved!”

“An immortal! A living immortal!”

The crowd could no longer hold back. Mustering the last of their strength, they scrambled forward in desperation. Many didn’t even bother using their hands to scoop the water and simply threw themselves down by the lakeside, drinking greedily with their mouths.

The water was cool and sweet beyond words. There were even fish swimming within it.

The Daoist quietly led his horse to the lakeside, stepping aside to make space for the weary travelers and displaced refugees. The calico cat and the swallow followed him, also yielding their place.

This was a crossroads where trade routes converged, and now a dense throng of people surged forward, surrounding the small lake until not even a drop of water could be seen beyond the sea of bodies. Some had even waded directly into the water.

Those farther away, unaware of what was happening at first, merely heard the commotion and assumed it was an attack by desert bandits or an encounter with demons. But as they drew nearer and saw the glistening water under the sunlight, they too abandoned all caution, sprinting madly toward salvation.

Wave after wave, they came without hesitation. This was the path to life.

And what could be more sacred than preserving life itself?

The Daoist stood at the back, leading his horse, leaning on his bamboo staff. His lips were dry, and countless people rushed past him toward the lake he had created. In the distance, the desert sun was setting, while up close, rippling waves shimmered with golden light upon the lake’s surface, forming a scene both wondrous and grand.

This water had not appeared out of thin air, nor was it merely a condensation of spiritual energy.

Previously, Song You had sat here for ten days, meditating on the water-element spiritual resonance of the southeastern seas.

The five elemental spiritual resonances were boundless in their mysteries.

Among them, the water-element spiritual resonance was particularly elusive, flowing freely and difficult to grasp.

The maritime nations influenced by this resonance exhibited the same unpredictability. Not only were many extraordinary phenomena commonplace there, but even distances and directions became erratic.

Some had sighted these nations just a few hundred li offshore, while others had mistakenly wandered into them thousands or even tens of thousands of li away. Some entered from the South Sea, others from the East Sea, all due to the enigmatic nature of the resonance.

Back in Yangdu, when Wen Pingzi visited, Song You happened to be meditating on this resonance, and it inadvertently triggered an anomaly in the natural order. Not only did it cause Wen Pingzi's walk to the latrine to stretch into an endless journey, but it also turned a puddle of water left from washing a horse in the courtyard into a gateway to an unknown place.

When Wen Pingzi bent down to look, he saw countless fish swimming, clusters of coral, and a giant shark hunting. It was clearly the depths of the ocean. The sight had nearly scared him into falling in.

That had been a fortuitous accident, a fleeting moment of resonance, something that could not be deliberately replicated. It required the right time, the right place, and the right conditions. Missing even one made it nearly impossible to reproduce.

Yet Song You refused to accept that. He was determined to replicate it.

And so, in the scorching desert, under the relentless sun, he forced himself into stillness, focusing intently on his meditation. For ten days, he sat there, seeking to reclaim that elusive resonance and to grasp it in his hands—

This would be the lifeline for the desperate people before him, and it would also be his own form of cultivation—a rare and profound cultivation.

The most immediate reward of his efforts was a deeper understanding of this resonance, not only as one of the five elemental resonances but also as a deeper comprehension of the natural order, of the Dao itself.

More importantly, he had successfully materialized and harnessed this resonance for the first time. Given time, this could become a spell, a divine ability. Or perhaps it would refine and enhance the mystical arts he already possessed.

This single droplet of water was merely a conduit—what it truly connected to was a freshwater lake on a deserted island in the distant sea.

The water before them now was, in truth, the water of that faraway lake, drawn from thousands of li away.

Song You pressed his lips together, silent.

Though he was a cultivator, beyond the mundane world, he had gone ten days without a single sip of water and was exposed to the harsh sun. In doing so, he had tasted a fraction of the suffering of the drought-stricken refugees.

It was just a glimpse of the hardship, yet it was already unbearable.

He had expected suffering, but not like this.

Now, as people finished drinking their fill, they began filling their water containers. Those with camels led them forward to drink their share as well. It was only after their needs were met that they finally came to their senses.

Where had this water come from?

Someone hurried toward Song You, their eyes wide in awe—some with tears streaming down their faces, others trembling with excitement or hesitation. Yet regardless of their emotions, all of them knelt before the Daoist, bowing deeply as they spoke in a chaotic mix of languages.

There was no need to understand their words—anyone could guess their meaning.

Seeing this, the others followed suit, rushing forward and kneeling as well.

They knelt before the immortal and their savior.

At first, the Daoist considered lifting his bamboo staff to help them up, or perhaps persuading them not to do this. But as more and more people finished drinking and came forward to express their gratitude, he found himself overwhelmed.

All he could do was turn slightly to the side, showing his discomfort at being revered in such a manner, his stance losing a touch of its previous calmness.

How many people were here?

How many crowded around the lake?

How many had already quenched their thirst, and how many more continued to arrive?

It was impossible to count.

All that could be seen was the golden sun sinking into the western desert, the vast sky bathed in hues of dusk. The lake, which had appeared out of nowhere, shimmered brilliantly in the evening light. Aside from those still running toward the water in desperate thirst, only the Daoist, his cat, and his horse remained standing.

Between them and the lake, countless refugees and travelers knelt in reverence, their heads bowed low. Some prostrated fully, others cupped their hands in gestures of thanks. Every exclamation, spoken in different tongues, was heartfelt and sincere. The scene was as grand as it was overwhelming—an image that could shake the soul.

If the Daoist were an ordinary man, he might have become a deity on the spot.

It was ironic.

Just moments ago, when the lake first appeared, everyone had thrown themselves down to drink, while the Daoist remained standing.

Now, as they knelt in gratitude, he was still the only one standing.

He and his companions remained unmoved.

“Everyone,” Song You finally spoke, lifting his bamboo staff slightly, “there is not much time left for your journey. Once you have enough water, please continue on your way.”

He glanced at the crowd. “If any among you understand the local language, please help me translate.”

A murmur of voices arose in response. Now that their thirst had been quenched, they could finally speak with strength again.

Yet, despite his words, no one stood up to leave. Instead, another voice called out from below.

“May we ask which divine immortal in the heavens are you, Your Excellency?”

“I am no immortal,” Song You answered calmly. “I am merely a Daoist from the Great Yan dynasty.”

“You’re not an immortal?”

“No.” Song You’s voice remained steady. “I was simply passing through and saw the drought, the suffering of the people. I happened to have a method, so I borrowed some freshwater from an island in the southeastern sea, that is all.”

“An island of the southeastern sea...”

Upon hearing this, the crowd was stunned.

“This water, though borrowed from a remote island in the sea, is still taken from another place. While the sea has no shortage of water, the lakes on that island are not limitless. You may drink freely as you pass through, and you may take some with you, but you must cherish this water. When using it, do so with gratitude in your heart. Do not waste it recklessly, and under no circumstances should you defile or pollute it.”

Leaning on his bamboo staff, Song You spoke, his voice now somewhat hoarse.

“We will remember your command!”

“We dare not disobey!”

“We must spread the word!”

“This is no ordinary water. It is a divine spring, a life-saving gift...”

At first, these declarations were spoken in the official language of Great Yan. Then, as those who understood the local tongue translated his words, the refugees and travelers also began voicing their own vows and gratitude.

Then, someone called out, “If you possess such great power, then why... why not cast a spell to end this drought?”

“This great drought is part of the natural order,” Song You replied calmly. “It is the shifting course of heaven and earth, the changing of oceans into fields, the transformation of nature over time. Whether god or immortal, no one can defy it.”

“I heard...” The speaker lifted their head, glancing around before fixing their gaze on Song You. Seeing his figure and composed expression, they seemed to gain confidence and continued, “I heard that this drought is caused by the Fire God of the Flame Mountain in the west. If you could defeat that evil god, the drought would naturally end.”

“That is a mere rumor.”

Song You’s expression remained unchanged, as did his tone. Though inwardly, he felt a certain respect for the one who spoke.

“Please, those who speak multiple languages, help me translate this: This drought is part of the natural order, the shifting of heaven and earth—it is a normal phenomenon. It has nothing to do with demons, ghosts, or gods. Please do not curse any deity because of this, for that would be slanderous and unjust.

“This drought is not caused by the Fire God of the Flame Mountain, nor does it have anything to do with the Rain God of Longzhou or Shazhou.”

The message was relayed, and another wave of murmurs spread through the crowd.

People exchanged uncertain glances, but hearing these words from the very one who had saved them, they had no choice but to believe.

“Everyone, rise. Continue your journey, and as you travel far, please spread this truth as well.”

“Thank you, Immortal.”

Finally, some people began to stand, preparing to depart.

Song You’s gaze landed on the Western merchant who had previously tried to offer him water and persuade him to leave. Now, the merchant had filled both his belly and his water pouches.

Seeing Song You looking at him, the man slightly bowed his head in greeting. Song You returned the gesture. Then, the merchant turned, leading his camel toward the east—perhaps bound for the western market of Changjing.

The lake still shimmered, its waters glistening under the fading light.

As the sun completely set, the sky once again displayed an absolutely breathtaking glow—neither quite blue nor fully purple, tinged with red yet carrying hints of pink and white. It looked soft and dreamlike.

This radiant light was reflected upon the lake in the vast Gobi Desert. It would take at least an hour for the glow to fade. The traveling merchants, bathed in its illumination and having replenished their water supply, would now be able to journey a considerable distance.

Song You pondered for a moment and looked into the distance.

At the foot of Mount Huayan, there were rocks, though they were quite far away.

The Daoist merely waved his bamboo staff.

“Wooosh!” A massive boulder instantly flew over.

“Boom!”

The boulder landed by the lakeshore with a muffled crash.

Many people were startled and turned their heads to look.

Even the cat stretched its neck, staring intently.

Under their gazes, the Daoist simply waved his staff from a distance, and a layer of the boulder was sliced off, revealing a smooth, polished surface.

Then, holding his staff, the Daoist inscribed words upon it, “In the first year of the Da'an era, the Western Regions underwent a natural shift. There were two years of severe drought, where not a single drop of rain fell. The living suffered, and the people were in despair. The water of this lake was borrowed from an unnamed deserted island in the southeastern seas. All who pass by may take from it as they please, but it must not be desecrated.”

May this stone and this stele stand the test of time, so that the world may know that the great drought was not caused by the Fire God and whence this lake's water came. So that future generations may know of this drought, and understand when the natural shift of the Western Regions began.

Yet, no name was left behind.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by fre(e)webnov(l).com