Unintended Immortality

“This painting...”

“What’s wrong with this painting?”

“Have you previously consulted any other experts?” n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“I consulted a wandering Daoist,” the military officer said, his voice low and his eyes narrowing in apparent irritation. “He told me that since I was new to the capital and coming from elsewhere, I was unaccustomed to the capital’s auspicious aura and that, as a martial artist, the bloodlust and ferocity in me were being expelled by the capital’s auspicious aura. He said it would improve with time.

The officer glanced at Song You. “Ha, I actually believed his nonsense and endured for several months. If I ever meet that Daoist again, I’ll make sure he can’t walk another step.”

“That’s a common deceiver’s excuse.”

Song You remained composed, focusing solely on the painting. He was neither intimidated by the veiled threat nor concerned about it.

“Do you think it’s the painting that’s the issue?”

“It is indeed the painting that’s the problem.”

Song You did not answer immediately, nor did he look at the officer. He continued to study the painting with awe, admiring its meticulous detail and lifelike quality. He felt a spiritual resonance and vitality within it and asked, “May I inquire where this painting came from?”

“At the end of last year, I was leading my troops into the capital on imperial orders to take over the city’s defense. On the way, I encountered a man being chased by a group of ruffians, apparently for robbery. The ruffians were so rampant around the capital’s outskirts that I ordered my men to rescue him,” the officer recalled, frowning.

He continued, “After saving him, the man wanted to give me money as a reward, but I declined. In gratitude for saving his life, he said he was a painter and offered to create a portrait for me. I found it interesting, so I took him to the official’s station and let him stay the night, and he painted this portrait for me.”

“General, your righteousness and kindness are commendable,” Song You said.

“What’s wrong with this painting?” The officer turned to look at the painting he had cherished and admired countless times since receiving it, incredulous. “Could it be that, in return for saving his life, he intentionally did something to harm me through the painting?”

“Not at all,” Song You said, still focused on the painting. “Your actions were virtuous, and the painter’s intentions were likely good as well. However, his skill in painting was exceptional. It’s likely that the impression of being saved by you made a profound impact on him. He poured all his effort into this painting, making it incredibly lifelike, to the point where the figure almost seems to come alive.”

The officer looked at the painting again, considering Song You’s words.

Indeed. It was as if he himself were standing in the painting!

Sometimes, when he gazed at the painting, it felt less like a painting and more like a window. Through this window, he saw the scene from that day outside the city—himself charging along the official road, holding a spear, his might unmatched.

Recently, during his duty in the capital, he had met several prominent figures and occasionally invited them to his home. Everyone who saw this painting was full of praise, looking at him with renewed respect. Their admiration only grew after hearing about how he had repelled bandits and saved lives on his way into the capital.

He cherished this painting deeply.

“Could it be that the painting is so lifelike it’s scaring me?” The military officer squinted, observing the Daoist’s profile.

“Have you heard of the saying about attaining enlightenment through skill mastery?”

“Attaining enlightenment through skill mastery?”

“There is a master qin player in the capital whose music can summon cranes and bring rain or snow when played with extreme emotion. As the music reached its heartbreaking point, the woman playing the guqin couldn't help but lower her head.” the Daoist explained, pausing for effect.

He continued, “Similarly, there’s a woodcarver in the distant Yizhou who is said to carve figures so lifelike that if they were given eyes, they would come to life.”

“Are you referring to the renowned qin player, Miss Wanjiang?”

“General, you know her?”

“I have heard her perform on the first floor of the Hexian Pavilion.” Before coming to the capital, his monthly salary was only a few taels of silver. After arriving, it increased to only about ten taels, which had to cover his own expenses, as well as those of his family and servants. There was simply no money to spare for the second floor.

“This painting is extraordinarily well done,” Song You said. “Though the figure in the painting cannot come to life, it still exudes a certain spiritual charm and vitality. During the day, the vitality is suppressed by the sunlight, but at night, its spiritual essence is unrestrained... Have you tried looking at the painting at night?”

“Who looks at paintings at night?”

“If you were to gaze at it in the dead of night, you might feel as if it’s gazing back at you,” Song You smiled. “Given your sharp intuition and exceptional martial skills, such a gaze would naturally unsettle you.”

The military officer stared at the painting again, as if seeing the gaze of his painted self. He recalled how the figure in the painting had once frightened many jianghu people into retreating. Little did he know that the painter had captured this intense expression with astounding skill, freezing that moment forever.

If the painting were hung on the door, it might even deter minor ghosts.

If this was the case, being stared at by it every night combined with his acute instincts could indeed make it difficult to sleep.

“Is what you say true?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then does the Daoist have a remedy?” Song You pondered, continuing to gaze at the painting, feeling a mix of shock and reflection.

The image of the woodcarvings coming to life in Yizhou remained vividly etched in his memory. It was likely something he would never forget in his lifetime.

Although the painting’s technique could not match Master Kong’s carving skills, it was still incredibly impressive. If it were painted even better, it might have truly come to life. Indeed, there were countless masters in the world.

“The solution is simple,” Song You said.

“Please, do enlighten me.”

“Just don’t hang it in the bedroom.”

“Are there any other solutions?”

“...” Song You finally turned his gaze from the painting to the military officer. This was the first time he had looked away from the painting since he arrived, but he had actually been observing the officer the whole time.

He didn't think that someone with such thick eyebrows and big eyes would be so narcissistic.

“Will your painting be passed down through generations?” Song You asked.

“Why would it matter whether it’s passed down or not?”

“Though the painting appears to only depict you, the details—the grass and trees swaying in the wind, the scattered stones on the roadside, the dust rising from the horse’s hooves—are all rendered with extraordinary precision. It is precisely these details that create your commanding presence on horseback and infuse the painting with spiritual qi and a profound vitality,” Song You explained.

He added, “These details are indispensable. If you do not want to be troubled by the spiritual resonance at night but still wish to display the painting in the bedroom, simply adding a few strokes to the edges of the painting will not greatly affect the overall style, but it will diminish the spiritual qi and thus eliminate the vitality.”

“That’s not acceptable!” The military officer almost shouted, his eyes widening in anger.

He then looked at the painting again, calming down slowly. Adding a few strokes to the edges might not affect the overall viewing experience. At least, those who were not familiar with art wouldn’t notice. However, experts could immediately discern such additions, even after centuries, and they would be out of sync with the painting’s style and technique.

“Do you understand art, sir?”

“I don’t understand art well. About two years ago, while I was in Yizhou, I received some guidance from a master and gained some insights into this field,” Song You said.

“This painting… I truly love it and cannot bear to damage it. Is there any other way?” The military officer’s tone softened. He had come to believe the young Daoist’s words about the painting, even though he had initially thought they were similar to the deceptive claims of the wandering Daoist he had heard earlier in the year.

“There is indeed another way.”

“Please, tell me!”

“Based on the guidance I received, there is a method to isolate the painting’s spiritual qi without damaging it,” Song You said. “This method won’t alter the appearance of the painting, but it won’t last forever—at most, it will work for several decades.”

“Several decades?”

“Yes, if the painting is still passed down and someone with martial skills and sharp intuition inherits it after several decades, or if the painting’s spiritual resonance accumulates over time, it might eventually have an effect even on ordinary people and develop supernatural aspects. I can’t guarantee that your descendants will cherish it as much as you do now and keep it.”

“Isolating the spiritual resonance...”

“The choice is yours.”

The military officer squinted, clearly torn by the decision.

Song You did not rush him. Instead, he took the opportunity to get closer and carefully examine the painting.

He scrutinized the ink tones and the brushstrokes. He looked at the composition and the lines. He observed the figures and the background. He tried to discern the artist’s thoughts and the exceptional skill behind the painting. He also sensed the subtle spiritual resonance and vitality within it.

“Sir.”

“…”

Song You immediately straightened up, maintaining a respectful distance from the painting, and turned his attention back to the military officer.

“Have you made a decision?”

“Please cast the spell to isolate the spiritual resonance of the painting. I will ensure that it is well preserved by future generations and never hung in the bedroom,” the military officer said. “As for other supernatural aspects, I cannot say whether they are good or bad. If such things arise in several decades, we’ll deal with them when the time comes. The future generations will have their own fortune to handle.”

“Excellent!” Song You praised.

He then blew gently at the painting. The breath materialized into a grayish smoke, which floated toward the painting and, in the blink of an eye, vanished into it.

The painting seemed unchanged at first glance. However, there seemed to be a subtle difference from before.

The military officer could not help but widen his eyes. He had been deeply deceived by that wandering Daoist before. He had been considering that, once this young Daoist completed his spell, he would likely need to subtly remind him that he knew where the young Daoist resided. If he dared to deceive him, he would personally bring people to his establishment to confront him.

But after witnessing this scene, he could no longer hold such thoughts.

He had no choice but to cup his hands and bow deeply, saying, “Thank you very much, sir.”

“It’s no big deal,” Song You replied with a smile.

“Tonight, I should be able to sleep soundly,” the military officer said gratefully.

“I live on Willow Street. If you still feel unsettled tonight, you can come find me again,” Song You offered.

“You’re too kind,” the military officer said, cupping his hands. “May I ask how much silver you charge?”

“Whatever you wish to give,” Song You responded.

“Whatever I wish to give?”

“Yes,” Song You said with a smile. “I have always been like this since coming to Changjing. You can give as much or as little as you like. More is not too much, and less is not too little.”

“Hmm...”

The officer was reminded of some medical clinics he knew. In Changjing, there were indeed some clinics where the fee varied depending on the patient’s financial status. Some renowned doctors, known for their benevolence and truly deserving of their reputation for helping the world, would not charge the impoverished and would even pay out of their own pockets to buy medicine for them.

This, however, put him in a difficult position.

He wanted to be generous, yet also wanted to be calculating. He wasn't exactly poor, but he still felt that every tael of silver in his monthly salary had its own purpose. He thought he should display some chivalry, but also felt that his wife and children had just moved to Changjing and needed some nice clothes.

He reasoned that since this Daoist seemed genuinely skilled, giving a bit more silver would be a way to build a good relationship. But he also thought that someone who operated this way had likely met all kinds of people and probably would not mind if the amount were small.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the Daoist, who was standing in front of him with a smile.

The Daoist's gaze seemed to pierce into his heart, and the military officer’s heart skipped a beat.

After a moment, the Daoist took the two tales of silver and thanked the officer respectfully before he left the courtyard with his gains.