Unintended Immortality-Chapter 411: Your Excellency, Why Have You Come Here?

Amidst the sound of celestial music, a flock of large immortal cranes descended from the skies. A divine official stood on the clouds, calling out names.

The first name he called was that of the old man they had encountered earlier that day, “Xiong You, style name Zhengsi.”

The young scholar, hiding under his robes, had already widened his eyes and peeked through a gap in the fabric to observe the scene in the distance.

As the name was announced, the old man he had spoken with on the road earlier rose to his feet.

An immortal crane descended to escort him, while divine light illuminated the ground below.

The young scholar held his breath.

From the clouds above, the divine official continued reading, “Xiong You, also known as Xiong Zhengsi. After returning home in middle age, he spent half his life performing good deeds, saving thousands of people, and accumulating countless merits.

“He died in a flood while aiding in disaster relief. Due to his martial skills in youth and the gratitude of the local people, he is temporarily conferred the title of Assistant Halberd-Bearer Divine Officer of the Aqua Division."

The old man boarded the immortal crane and ascended into the sky.

The divine official called out the second name.

“Zhou Zimin...”

As this name was spoken, the young scholar was stunned to see the man who had spent the evening drinking, singing, reciting poetry, and discussing literature with him step forward. The man’s appearance suddenly shifted, revealing his true form.

After the divine official recounted his lifetime of good deeds and announced his new title, the young man bowed respectfully, mounted the immortal crane, and ascended into the heavens.

From the heavenly gate above, divine light poured down, illuminating nearly the entire Mount Zunzhe. The mountain, already extraordinary, now looked utterly sacred under its radiant glow.

Celestial cranes ascended along this divine light, spiraling higher and higher into the sky.

With each ascent to a higher level, the immortals riding on the backs of the celestial cranes seemed to undergo subtle transformations. By the time they reached above the clouds, standing on equal footing with the divine officials and heavenly soldiers, the once “ghostly” figures appeared to have been reborn. Their bodies began radiating waves of divine light, and both their attire and appearance had undergone a noticeable change.

The young official was utterly dumbfounded.

No wonder that particular man had refused to drink with them last night. No wonder when they had roasted dried meat to share, he had politely declined. Instead, he had only spoken about the wind, the moon, and recited poetry, appearing cheerful, talkative, and full of wit.

He had seemed carefree and lively—so much so that even if the young official hadn’t received Song You’s guidance and had continued suspecting everyone, he still wouldn’t have suspected him.

These immortals truly were remarkable. No wonder they had been chosen for ascension.

“Xuan Hezi...”

But when the next person stood up, the young official was completely stunned.

It was that pot-bellied official he had encountered on the road—along with the two footmen carrying his chair.

And yet... it wasn’t the official. It was one of the footmen.

The footman suddenly transformed into an elderly Daoist priest, his hair and beard as white as snow, dressed in a traditional Daoist robe. He exhaled a breath, and with that single breath, the plump official, the other sedan carrier, and even the bamboo chair all dissolved into wisps of green smoke, vanishing without a trace.

As the divine officer recited his life’s merits and conferred his divine title, the newly revealed Daoist stepped onto a celestial crane and soared toward the heavens.

Just as the young official had suspected, all these ascended immortals had gained their godhood because of the floods in Fengzhou and Yaozhou. Having become deities through calamity, they were all assigned positions in the Aqua Division.

Among them, the Daoist’s divine rank was the highest—he had received a seemingly important role in the celestial Aqua Division, most likely due to the Daoist cultivation he had already attained in life.

The young official watched in secret, eyes locked on the spectacle. Yet, rather than envy or jealousy, he felt profound awe. He felt honored to have climbed this mountain with such virtuous individuals, to have spoken with them, to have even enjoyed meaningful conversations.

More than anything, he was thrilled. He had just witnessed something that most people would only ever hear in stories or read in books. Even if this moment didn’t make his entire life extraordinary, at the very least, this journey had been truly remarkable, leaving him with no regrets.

And he couldn’t help but find it amusing—

These immortals had gone to such great lengths to conceal their identities, each employing their own clever tricks.

It was beyond fascinating. Even if he wrote it into a story or a book and shared it with others, most would probably find it too ridiculous to believe.

More than anything, the young official felt deep gratitude toward Daoist Master Song. If not for Daoist Master Song, how could he have witnessed all of this?

He wondered if the Daoist was also watching this scene at that very moment. And if he was—would he find it as fascinating as I do?

Just then, the old Daoist, who was ascending into the sky on his celestial crane, suddenly glanced downward. Then, he smiled and said, “Someone is still awake...”

The young official froze, and he dared not move a muscle.

Though he knew these were all virtuous beings, and that deities would not harm a mortal so easily, he still feared that some immortal might descend politely, greet him with courtesy, engage in polite conversation—then blow a single breath his way.

And just like that, he would drift into the best sleep of his life, waking up with no memory of any of this. That would be far worse than simply being beaten by an immortal.

But instead of looking at him, the old Daoist’s gaze shifted past him toward something behind him. He was looking in the direction of Daoist Master Song.

***

The tricks these soon-to-be-appointed immortals had devised to avoid being recognized and disturbed by mortals were certainly interesting. However, Song You no longer found them amusing. During the daytime, on the mountain path, he had already seen through the true identities of these “gods-to-be.”

Their disguises—whether through transformation spells or clever acting—had all been laid bare before him. He had even taken the time to observe them closely, finding it amusing back then, so there was no need to be entertained by it now.

What he was observing now was, of course, something entirely different.

During the daytime, he had attuned himself to the spiritual resonance of this land, harmonizing with its mountains, its waters, and the very essence of this world. He had already begun to grasp why this place was called “the closest place to the heavens,” and why immortals always ascended from here first. Now, as he observed once more, his understanding deepened. It was all a confirmation.

It seemed that the formation of the former Celestial Palace and the future underworld are largely similar.

The Heavenly Palace, too, had its own soils of the five directions.

Mount Zunzhe contained a portion—perhaps just a small fragment, maybe even just a single grain of sand—of one of the Five Directions of Earth. Because of this, the Heavenly Palace and the mortal world remained closely connected, much like a gateway to the Heavenly Palace.

The gods ascending today were newly appointed and of minor rank, with few followers and limited incense offerings. Their meager divine tribute was insufficient to form a true divine body in a short time. Lacking both the path and the ability to ascend on their own, their first ascent had to be from this place, relying on the divine light of the Heavenly Palace to help shape their divine forms.

Once their divine bodies were fully formed, they would officially become deities. And by ascending through this path—which was fundamentally linked to the Heavenly Palace itself—they would receive the acknowledgment of the celestial realm.

After this first ascent, they would no longer be required to use this particular path to return to the heavens.

Mortals, too, could ascend from here.

Song You even suspected that ordinary deities, even if they did not use these Five Ascension Paths, still had some connection to them whenever they traveled between their temples in the mortal world and the Heavenly Palace.

As he pondered these thoughts, the old Daoist in the sky turned his gaze toward him.

Having encountered him earlier on the road, and recognizing him as a fellow Daoist, the old immortal had taken special notice of Song You. Sensing his cultivation, the old Daoist had deliberately searched for him during this celestial ascension—wanting to see whether he had fallen asleep like the others.

But, of course, Song You had not slept. Nor did he attempt to hide himself.

If someone was watching, then let them watch. Who wouldn't want to witness something like this?

Seeing the old Daoist, now seated atop his celestial crane, smile and look his way, Song You simply reached out and patted his young attendant’s head. Then, he stood up and offered a formal bow.

The little girl, though not fully understanding, instinctively mimicked him, rising to bow as well.

At that moment, the divine officers and the other two ascending immortals followed the old Daoist’s gaze—turning their attention to Song You.

The leading divine officer visibly stiffened in surprise.

He glanced around nervously, his heart settling only slightly after confirming the situation. Yet, he still couldn't help but withdraw his celestial brush and divine decree, before bowing in a respectful salute.

“Your Excellency, why have you come here?”

This official was none other than the scribe of the Great Emperor Chijin—one of the emperor’s trusted aides. It seemed that, beyond his usual duties, he was also frequently involved in the appointment and reassignment of divine officers.

“I am merely passing through on my travels.”

“...”

The celestial scribe’s gaze flickered uncertainly before he pressed further, “Were you not in Mount Ye? What brings you here?”

“The affairs of Mount Ye have been settled. Naturally, I must continue my travels. Southward lies Yaozhou, and Mount Zunzhe is one of the great mountains of the world—how could I not come to see it?” Song You met the divine officer’s gaze calmly. “Or... do you believe that I should have deliberately avoided this place at this time?”

“No, no... I wouldn’t dare...”

Yet, the divine officer’s eyes still flickered with unease.

At that moment, the celestial crane carrying the old Daoist had already reached the clouds. The divine light solidified his true divine body, and the path of ascension granted him recognition by the Heavenly Palace. Seeing that the last of the deities under his charge had successfully taken their position, the divine officer—though still unsettled—chose not to probe further.

Instead, he simply decided to report everything truthfully to the Heavenly Emperor.

Cupping his hands in a respectful salute, he said, “I have come to escort the virtuous and deserving individuals from the mortal realm to the heavens, where they will be appointed to their divine positions. Afterward, I will also guide them through their new duties and responsibilities. There is still much work to be done, so I shall not disturb your meditation and refined pursuits any longer.”

“Safe travels,” Song You replied.

With that, the immortals ascended upon their cranes, riding the clouds into the heavens.

The celestial music gradually faded. Clouds drifted in, veiling the moon once more.

The celestial pavilions and towers gradually faded from view, and the heavenly gates slowly closed. The divine light dissipated without a trace, and the entire scene in the sky, like a mirage, quickly vanished as if blown away by the wind. In its place, the red glow of dawn illuminated the horizon, casting a beam of crimson light between the mountains and clouds, extending directly toward Mount Zunzhe.

Gradually, people began to wake up, some naturally, others startled awake. When they saw the breathtaking sunrise, even those who hadn’t witnessed the immortals ascending the heavens last night were filled with joy. They quickly roused their companions or newly made friends, and more and more people woke from their slumber.

Within a short time, the entire crowd had become fully alert, gazing at the distant sunrise, jumping around the mountain, or shouting with excitement.

It was as if, in just a brief moment, the once-quiet mountains had burst into life, and the world had transitioned from night to dawn so swiftly that the young scholar felt caught off guard.

As he stood amidst the cheering crowd, he straightened up and looked into the distance. There, the Daoist he had met on the road was already packing his belongings, with the diligent young girl busily assisting him.

The bags were soon secured onto the horse’s back.

The Daoist turned around, and from across the noisy crowd, he smiled and clasped his hands in a respectful gesture toward the young scholar before turning and leaving.

The young scholar remained standing there, seemingly still in a daze. He had neither fully processed what had happened nor had any intention of chasing after the Daoist for answers. Instead, he simply stood in place, returning the gesture and watching him depart.

“Mr. Wei, what are you looking at?”

“N-Nothing...”

“Haha, we’re really lucky today! I heard that on Mount Zunzhe, there are fewer than sixty days a year when you can see the sunrise. Even though we didn’t witness the immortals ascend, seeing the sunrise with the glowing clouds covering the mountain is a blessing in itself!”

“Indeed...”

The young scholar slowly withdrew his gaze.

His heart, however, was filled with countless emotions—

The events of last night, even if he tried to tell others, how many would actually believe him?