Chapter 355: Love Nothing More Than Challenging the Gods

“After we parted ways, following the resolution of the plague in Gui Commandery, we traveled through Hezhou and Guangzhou,” Doctor Cai said. “Everywhere we went, we heard many stories about you...”

“And after leaving Yuezhou, we also heard countless tales of your medical prowess,” Song You replied. “The common folk speak of you with such admiration. I imagine that even centuries from now, your name will still be celebrated in this land.”

The two reminisced about what had happened since their last meeting.

The calico cat sat neatly on the floor near the fire, warming itself. The side of its body facing the brazier began to emit faint wisps of steam.

“By the way...” After talking at length, recounting past events, Song You finally brought up the matter that had been on his mind. “A few days ago, while walking through the streets, I met a woman. We spoke about Dr. Chen of Jishi Hall, and I learned that he has passed away. Did you know about this?”

“Of course I knew,” Doctor Cai said. “We had already returned when we heard the news. But soon after, we learned that smallpox had broken out in Jingzhou, so we went there. We knew about it long ago.”

“My condolences, Doctor.”

“Sigh...” Doctor Cai let out a long sigh. His expression was heavy with sorrow, his tone tinged with a mix of regret, self-reproach, and sadness—a complex grief. “He was a fool. It was only half of the

Medical Canon

. I didn’t leave just one copy—I made three. His was merely one of those three.

“And even if all of them were destroyed, what would it matter? I wrote it. As long as I’m alive, I can rewrite it anytime.”

Song You carefully contemplated Doctor Cai’s words, particularly the phrase,

“As long as I’m alive.”

It carried a weight that seemed to hint at something deeper.

“Does the copy you kept with you still exist?” Song You asked.

“...”

Doctor Cai fell silent for a moment before shaking his head. “Perhaps it truly is the will of heaven.”

Song You shifted his gaze to the middle-aged disciple standing behind him.

The disciple, who had been studying under Doctor Cai, explained, “On our way back, we took a boat along the river. My disciple was carrying the pack with the manuscript, but he lost his footing while boarding and fell into the water. Although we managed to pull him out in time and the manuscript was wrapped in oilcloth, some water still got in.

“That day, the sun was out, and there was no wind, so we decided to lay it out to dry, fearing it would get damaged further. But while it was drying, a sudden gust of wind came out of nowhere. We scrambled to save it, but we couldn’t retrieve it in time.”

“It’s my fault,” the other disciple said, his voice heavy with regret. “I couldn’t even board a boat properly. I’m so useless.”

“It’s also my fault,” the first disciple added. “I should have secured the manuscript better, maybe used larger stones to weigh it down. If we’d dried it farther from the river, even if the wind blew it away, we might have been able to recover it.”

“In the end, it’s all my fault,” the second disciple lamented.

“Don’t blame yourself, Junior Brother...”

“Enough,” Doctor Cai interjected, coughing twice. “None of you need to feel guilty. Fate toys with people, and no one is to blame. Perhaps the heavens simply don’t want an old man like me to complete this medical canon.”

“...”

Song You refrained from commenting, unsure whether the “heavens” Doctor Cai referred to meant fate or the Heavenly Palace. Lacking a full understanding of the situation, he decided not to offer an opinion and instead asked, “I’ve heard there’s still one last copy with the Snake Immortal?”

“That’s correct,” Doctor Cai confirmed.

“Is that copy safe?”

“Yes, it’s safe,” Doctor Cai said with a mix of a sigh and a chuckle. “The Snake Immortal, after all, is the Snake Immortal—not as clumsy as us mortals.”

“I see...”

Song You narrowed his eyes. “May I ask where the manuscript is now?”

“It remains with the Snake Immortal.”

“Oh?” Song You’s interest was piqued. “Have you not retrieved it?”

“I’ve left it temporarily in the care of the Snake Immortal.”

“Don’t you plan to retrieve it for transcription or to complete it?”

“We are too foolish. If we brought it back, I fear it would be lost again before we even finished copying it, let alone completing it.”

“...”

Song You kept his hands open, warming them near the brazier. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the doctor, and a faint smile appeared on his face. “It seems you also feel these coincidences are too much.”

“Everything is the will of heaven,” Doctor Cai replied, his expression downcast, sighing deeply.

“You misunderstand,” Song You said, brushing off his Daoist robes lightly. “Though I come from a Daoist temple and wear Daoist robes, and though people call me a Daoist or refer to me as 'sir,' I’ve never corrected them.

“In truth, I’m nothing but a fake Daoist priest. When my ancestor established our lineage, there was no Heavenly Palace in this world, and even Daoism itself had yet to emerge. The temple was merely built for convenience.”

“You’re not a Daoist priest, sir?”

“I’m a fake Daoist priest.”

“Then... does that mean you don’t worship the gods?”

“I don’t worship gods, nor do I revere the Heavenly Palace—I only honor the heavens above,” Song You said, pausing briefly before adding, “But with the understanding of the Heavenly Dao held by Hidden Dragon Temple, I can confidently say the Heavenly Dao would not toy with a great healer like this.”

“Is that so!” Doctor Cai froze for a moment, then his face flushed with shame.

He leaned closer, cupping Song You’s hand tightly, and said, “I’ve always known that your abilities are unparalleled, as if you were an immortal walking the earth. I’ve also seen firsthand your dedication to the people, traveling thousands of li to exorcise demons. Having walked part of this path with you, I know your character well. And yet, I still doubted you—how foolish of me...”

“It’s nothing,” Song You replied, glancing down at the hand cupping his own.

He understood that, in these times, gestures like holding hands while speaking or sharing close quarters were common, especially for the elderly, who often struggled to control their emotions. Though it wasn’t something Song You was accustomed to, he allowed the old doctor to hold his hand.

“So, Doctor, you may speak freely,” Song You encouraged.

“Well...”

Seeing that Doctor Cai was hesitant, Song You, knowing what the doctor was trying to say, smiled and gently spoke for him. “You believe there may be divine beings above who don’t want the

Medical Canon

to come into existence.”

“This...” Doctor Cai hesitated, then let out a long sigh. “It’s all too much of a coincidence.”

In this era, reverence for the gods was deeply ingrained, so Song You didn’t press him. Instead, he asked, “What are your plans now, Doctor? Will you continue writing, or will you leave the remaining half of the

Medical Canon

with the Snake Immortal and abandon it altogether?”

“Years of disasters and mishaps—though I have not been personally harmed—have left me utterly exhausted,” Doctor Cai admitted, though his expression was filled with regret. “I may have some modest renown, respected by both nobles and commoners, but if fate truly dictates this, how could an old man like me possibly defy the will of the gods?”

Song You could hear that it wasn’t a lack of willingness holding Doctor Cai back, but rather his hesitation and fear of further consequences. Even the weariness etched on his face wasn’t from the act of writing but from enduring these relentless setbacks.

Not wanting to pressure him further, Song You chose his words carefully.

“This afternoon, we plan to visit the Snake Immortal deep in Mount Beiqin. The Snake Immortal is an elder of my sect. If you, Doctor, truly feel that your advanced age prevents you from completing the second half of the

Medical Canon

, then so be it. You need not blame yourself for it.

“The people of this world have their own fortunes, and all living beings will eventually find their path. Perhaps... perhaps this is simply how things were meant to be.”

Doctor Cai listened intently but said nothing.

“If, however, you’re unwilling to let this go and still wish to complete the remaining half of the

Medical Canon

, you can let me know. I can try persuading the Snake Immortal to grant you permission to write the rest of it in the lakeside hut.”

“Do you think the Snake Immortal would agree?”

“The Snake Immortal admires your virtue and character. Moreover, as an elder of my sect, if I make a sincere plea, while it might trouble him somewhat, there’s a good chance he will agree.”

“Even if I complete it...” Doctor Cai hesitated. “It might still be difficult to bring it down the mountain, have it printed, and spread it to the world.”

Hearing this, Song You understood. Doctor Cai’s repeated misfortunes surrounding the

Medical Canon

had deeply shaken his faith. Though he outwardly dismissed these incidents as coincidences or the will of heaven, he clearly suspected foul play.

It was only natural.

These events had happened directly to Doctor Cai. As someone who experienced them firsthand, he would have noticed far more details than Song You, who had only heard secondhand accounts. Perhaps, on some subconscious level, Doctor Cai had sensed something deeper at play.

Given his age, his experiences, and his expertise, even without prior exposure to certain truths, he likely had an implicit understanding of them.

“Doctor Cai, you could have your two disciples copy the existing half first. I can take that copy with me and have it transcribed further while you write the remaining half. Once completed, the manuscript can again be divided into two parts—one to remain with the Snake Immortal, and one for me to bring back to the capital on my next visit.”

“This...”

“Doctor, you should decide based on your true feelings.”

“...”

Doctor Cai gazed into the fire burning in the brazier. His silence was brief, though. He soon raised his eyes and grasped the Daoist’s hands firmly, his voice filled with emotion.

“As it happens, during my travels in the North—especially in Gui Commandery—I’ve gained a deeper understanding of medical techniques and the sinister sorcery intertwined with illnesses. I was just thinking about adding these observations to the

Medical Canon

...”

“Then it seems you’ve made up your mind.”

“A true healer is meant to fight against both ghosts and gods,” Doctor Cai said with conviction.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as though clouded by age. Yet there remained in his expression traces of the calm and resolute demeanor that once defined him as a legendary physician. At this moment, a rare sense of determination emanated from him—a stubbornness forged through twenty years of setbacks and four attempts at writing the

Medical Canon

.

“But, sir... are you truly unafraid of the gods?”

“I don’t know for certain whether some divine beings are meddling,” Song You replied. “But once the

Medical Canon

is in my hands, it will be as though it’s under the protection of the Snake Immortal. If it’s mere coincidence, I will do my utmost to keep it safe. If it’s the will of heaven, then I’ll have a serious discussion with the Heavenly Dao. And if it’s a god...”

He paused briefly, then smiled faintly.

“A god who ceases to act like a god deserves to be erased. I’ve always been a mild-tempered person, but my master has a short temper, and among my ancestors, there are quite a few with fiery dispositions. If you ask me, they loved nothing more than challenging the gods.”

Song You spoke in a calm, conversational tone, as though sharing an amusing anecdote. Yet Doctor Cai and his disciples could clearly sense the confidence in his words—and a hint of disdain for a minority of divine beings.

Their thoughts flashed to stories of the frozen snowfields thawed after over a decade, of a mountain transported from thousands of li away that now abruptly stood on a plain. They recalled the vivid accounts of demon exterminations in the North and their own memories of Song You’s character during their time together in Gui Commandery. These thoughts brought them a sense of reassurance.

***

That afternoon, the wind and snow intensified.

After bidding farewell to Doctor Cai, Song You called upon the swallow flying above to help locate a small lake deep in the mountains with a lone hut by its shore. Following the swallow’s guidance, he set off.

It seemed the Snake Immortal had anticipated his visit.

Not long after entering the remote wilderness of Mount Beiqin, leaving the last traces of human habitation behind, Song You noticed a massive trail on the ground. The path, nearly a zhang wide, pressed the underbrush flat, cleared away the snow, and even swept aside brambles still dormant in their winter sleep.

It was as if the Snake Immortal had prepared a road leading deep into the mountains just for him, ensuring an easy passage through the rugged terrain.