Love Beyond the Grave

Lin Jun looked at Fang Xianye with an inscrutable smile.

He often slept restlessly at night. One evening, while wandering sleepless, he happened to see Fang Xianye escorting a black-clad figure out of his residence. By the moonlight, he could faintly make out bloodstains on the person’s clothes.

Shocked, he later heard that Duan Xu had fallen ill that very night—and the physician summoned to the Duan residence was the same one who usually treated him. This physician was on friendly terms with Lin Jun and, under some persuasion, revealed Duan Xu’s condition: he had likely caught a chill and vomited blood before collapsing.

Lin Jun immediately recalled the black-clad figure leaving Fang Xianye’s residence that night. The person’s build bore a striking resemblance to Duan Xu, and the timing of the vomiting and collapse matched perfectly. He suspected it was Duan Xu—perhaps there was something dubious between him and Fang Xianye. Now that Duan Xu was the Emperor’s greatest concern, uncovering any leverage against him would be a monumental achievement.

Starting with Fang Xianye, he had never expected to unearth such a powerful Imperial Edict. Duan Xu was currently a meritorious official, making it difficult for the Emperor to find grounds to punish him—yet the Emperor was unwilling to let him return to the Northern Territory. This edict, personally written by the late Emperor, was the perfect opportunity.

Fang Xianye’s gaze darkened. He said coldly, “I had thought Lord Lin cared deeply for the Northern Territory, that his lifelong wish was its recovery.”

Lin Jun smiled thoughtfully. “So this is why Lord Fang has kept silent all this time? Though nine provinces of the Northern Territory remain unrecovered, the Han people’s uprisings there spread like wildfire, and the Upper Capital is within reach. Great Liang already has five fully equipped Border Armies—Su Ying, Treading White, Hè Guī, Chéng Jié, and Táng Běi—all well-versed in the Tactics and Formations to counter Danzhi. We also have seasoned generals like Meng Wan, Xia Qingsheng, Wu Shengliu, Shi Biao, and Ding Jin. Zhao Chun may be incompetent, but we can simply appoint a new commander. Reclaiming our land is only a matter of time—must it hinge on Duan Xu?”

Lin Jun took a step closer and whispered into Fang Xianye’s ear, “Besides, both you and I know his health has deteriorated. He’s long past his prime and holds no further value.”

“Duan Xu can die.”

The words struck Fang Xianye like a thunderclap.

Fang Xianye clenched his fists. “Duan Xu has done you a kindness.”

“He has, but my loyalty lies with the Emperor. Naturally, easing His Majesty’s burdens comes first. Lord Fang, you too are a man of great ambition. With the Emperor’s growing suspicion, are you content to remain a relic of Prince Ji’s faction, sidelined for life—or worse, risking execution—while your policies and plans to save the people go unrealized? Are you truly willing?”

Lin Jun, now basking in his success, spoke with unwavering confidence. He smiled leisurely. “This is a golden opportunity. Duan Xu is unconscious—you needn’t fear a confrontation that might expose your past. Toppling him would earn the Emperor’s trust and align you with us. A chance like this won’t come again.”

“Lord Fang may struggle with sentimentality now, but you’ll soon move past it. In time, you might even thank me.”

Fang Xianye’s expression darkened, his brow furrowed as he scrutinized Lin Jun. True to his merchant roots, Lin Jun calculated every move shrewdly, unbound by scruples.

—For power, even fathers and brothers turn on each other.Fang Xianye suddenly recalled the deceased former Emperor, those words that often haunted his mind like a curse. The Southern Capital was a quagmire, the imperial court an abyss within that quagmire. These past few months had seen unprecedented upheavals—a sheet of white paper thrown in would instantly be sullied with mud, let alone ambitious white paper that probably wished it could become even filthier.

He looked down upon Lin Jun like this, but how clean was he himself?

They couldn't keep the Emperor waiting long. Eventually, they entered the Emperor's Níng Lè Hall, where the young sovereign sat high upon the dais in ginger-yellow dragon robes, his features resolute and naturally imposing even without anger, his expression inscrutable.

Fang Xianye knelt with Lin Jun in perfect composure, saying, "Your subject Fang Xianye pays respects to Your Majesty."

The Emperor said mildly, "Rise, beloved subject."

As Fang Xianye stood up, he saw the bright yellow silk scroll the Emperor picked up from the table. He heard the Emperor say, "Beloved subject, why did you wait until now to have Minister Lin deliver this Imperial Decree to Us?"

Fang Xianye immediately knelt again: "This subject believed himself unworthy of the late Emperor's favor. Moreover, with the Northern Territory still unconquered, it was too early to punish Marshal Duan, lest we alert the enemy."

Lin Jun chuckled beside him: "Minister Fang is always too modest, to the point of declining even deserved merits."

The Emperor gave a noncommittal laugh. Placing the Secret Decree back on the table, he said calmly, "Marshal Duan lies unconscious in the Southern Capital now, while his entire army has marched north. Could there be a better opportunity than this?"

He stood up, hands clasped behind his back as he leisurely descended the steps. "Zhao Chun is dead—died among the Returning Crane Army, reportedly by suicide out of guilt. The Returning Crane truly lives up to being Duan Xu's personal army, how bold of them. That northern expedition force—could it be they all bear the surname Duan?"

The Emperor's meaning was abundantly clear.

Fang Xianye pressed his lips together: "Marshal Duan is indeed... youthful and impetuous, too sharp for his own good."

"Both young men, yet you are countless times more steady than Duan Xu. We believe the late Emperor didn't misjudge, nor shall We." The Emperor abruptly shifted to praising Fang Xianye.

Fang Xianye immediately bowed: "This subject is deeply honored by the late Emperor's and Your Majesty's favor, and will remain loyal to sovereign and country... obedient to Your Majesty's will."

The Emperor withdrew his gaze in satisfaction, speaking as if making casual conversation: "Recently We also heard that General Duan isn't actually Duan Xu—that when he came from Dài Province to the Southern Capital, he was switched at birth and is actually one of the Hú Qì People."

Fang Xianye's heart tightened, but then Lin Jun interjected: "In that case, considering the Duan family's generations of civil officials, and that Duan Xu had never been north before joining the Snow-Treading Army, yet possesses extraordinary martial skills and military strategy with repeated miraculous achievements—if we say it's merely talent, that seems rather forced. From what this subject observed in the north, Marshal Duan understands the Hú Qì People extremely well."

"There's no concrete evidence for this, and moreover, General Duan has repeatedly defeated Danzhi. Using this to attack him would likely lack justification," Fang Xianye said impassively.

The Emperor nodded coldly: "For now, having beloved subject's Imperial Decree is sufficient. Whether Duan Xu is Hú Qì or not, We absolutely cannot allow him to return north. Minister Fang should prepare well for the court session two days hence."

Duan Xu's true identity no longer mattered—what mattered was that imperial authority could no longer tolerate him. So-called loyalty to sovereign and country: those who rule the world demand subjects' loyalty to the sovereign first, only then can patriotism be discussed.

After a moment's silence, Fang Xianye prostrated himself: "This subject... receives the decree."That night, Fang Xianye had a nightmare.

In the pitch-black darkness, he saw his twelve or thirteen-year-old self writing an essay by the dim light of a lamp. He wrote joyfully, but when it came time to sign his name, his brush hesitated.

Then he wrote the three characters: "Duan Shunxi."

The young boy looked up at him with a cold, stern expression and said calmly, "Will you keep being his shadow like this? Seven years wasn't enough—how many more years will you continue?"

The boy stood up and walked toward him.

Fang Xianye took a step back, unsure why he felt such overwhelming fear—this was his own youthful face, after all.

"That Secret Decree wasn’t something you forced the late emperor to write, nor was it you who handed it to the current emperor. Duan Xu brought this upon himself by being too conspicuous. Besides, when the decree was lost, you did try to discuss it with him, but he was unconscious and couldn’t respond. He was just unlucky—what could you have done?"

"He was the second-ranked scholar, while you were the top scorer. Why should he achieve glory and leave his name in history while you miss your chance and fade into obscurity? Could you not have given Great Liang just as much as he did?"

Fang Xianye whispered, "Stop talking."

The boy stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Can you honestly say you’ve never had these thoughts?"

"Admit it, Fang Xianye. This is what you truly believe in your heart—it wasn’t Lin Jun’s words that swayed you. If you really wanted to protect Duan Xu, why didn’t you destroy the Secret Decree when Zhao Gonggong died? Why didn’t you tell him about it? You made your choice from the very beginning."

The boy was now right in front of Fang Xianye, who had nowhere left to retreat. Then he heard the boy’s seductive whisper: "You have your own dreams too. What does Duan Xu matter? Abandon him, betray him—what does it matter if he dies?"

Fang Xianye jolted awake from the dream, rubbing his temples as cold sweat drenched his body. It felt as though a thousand-pound boulder pressed against his chest, impossible to shake off.

He sat up in bed, threw on his robe, and stepped onto the floor, pushing open the window for fresh air. Outside, the crisp fragrance of plum blossoms mingled with the cold wind. Fang Xianye gazed silently at the moonlit courtyard.

Suddenly, a firework shot into the sky, followed by bursts of others blooming one after another. Fang Xianye looked up in surprise, his eyes reflecting the dazzling display in the night sky. It was so late—perhaps some child had sneaked them out to set them off.

His mind drifted back many years to the night the exam results were announced, when the Southern Capital had celebrated with a grand fireworks display. As the top scholar, he had followed Duke Pei to a banquet at Yù Zǎo Tower, exchanging toasts and pleasantries with dignitaries, saying insincere words of flattery.

Truthfully, he disliked such occasions. Later, he excused himself, claiming drunkenness, and found a room to rest in. As he idly watched the fireworks from inside, a figure suddenly appeared at the window.

It was none other than Duan Shunxi, the second-ranked scholar of the same year. Duan Xu flipped in through the window, the brilliant fireworks behind him, waving a bottle of wine and saying, "Immortal's Intoxication from Dài Province. Will the top scholar honor me by sharing a drink?"

That Duan Xu was even younger then, full of vigor and determination, charging forward without hesitation. He had never changed.Fang Xianye thought, though he was reluctant to admit it, he knew he had always harbored jealousy toward Duan Xu. This jealousy had sprouted even before he had met Duan Xu, when he had merely lived in a world where the name of this person existed. Later, after being saved by Duan Xu, this jealousy became mixed with gratitude and admiration, growing even more complicated.

This man was born into a noble family, surrounded by countless relatives. Without needing to strive, he stood at the center of power, acting freely and fearlessly, looming over Fang Xianye like a dark cloud.

Back then, as he and Duan Xu leaned against the window drinking, Fang Xianye secretly thought he had finally broken through the clouds to see the sun—he had won against Duan Xu for once.

But then again, perhaps Duan Xu had been the only one that day who was genuinely happy for him.

Having lost his parents too early, Fang Xianye had perhaps always carried a trace of innate solitude, never truly close to anyone. When he thought about it, over all these years, his only true friend, family, and confidant had been that one person. Even the girl he liked was that person’s sister.

It was as if he had owed the Duan family in a past life, and now in this life, he was entangled with them, unable to break free.

If he really were to break free—what would Fang Xianye have left?

If even Fang Xianye were to become unrecognizable, what foundation would his so-called ideals have?

—"Weapons are instruments of ill omen, not the tools of a gentleman. I will wield the ill-omened instrument, and you shall be the gentleman’s tool—how about that?"

—"I will ride into battle for the general, sword in hand, to conquer the world. You will govern it as prime minister, ivory tablet in hand. I don’t mind if the birds are gone and the bow is stored away—when the time comes, I’ll retire, and you can rule the world well."

—"Betrayal is just betrayal. A man must pay the price for what—or whom—he believes in, isn’t that right?"

Fang Xianye raised his hands to cover his eyes, slowly bending forward.

"Duan Shunxi… damn you! You lunatic!"

Fang Xianye ground his teeth, as if he wished he could tear this man to pieces.

A man must pay the price for what he believes in.

If he believed in Duan Xu—what price would he have to pay for that?