Love Beyond the Grave

Duan Xu regained consciousness and his condition improved on the third day after Fang Xianye's passing.

Opening his eyes, Duan Xu stared at the ceiling for a while before realizing his hand was clasping another soft one, fingers intertwined. Before he could react, the hand holding his moved slightly, and then he was embraced.

The girl leaning over him was warmed by the room's stove, careful not to press too hard yet holding him tightly. She had always struggled with controlling her strength, but now she managed it perfectly.

Duan Xu raised his other hand to pat her back gently, whispering, "It's alright. I feel much better, as if I've slept for a very long time."

"What do you mean 'alright'? You nearly died," He Simu murmured.

During this time, aside from handling affairs in the Ghost Realm and tending to Duan Xu, she had been searching everywhere for spiritual medicines with Hejia Fengyi. Each time they found something, Tiantong Star Lord, who was treating Duan Xu, would reject it, saying not just any medicine could be used recklessly.

Having lived so long, this was the first time she understood what it meant to grasp at straws in desperation.

Sometimes, she held his hand, fingers entwined. She thought, as he wished, that their linked fingers connected their hearts. If he held her heart in his hand, perhaps he wouldn't be so willing to let go and depart this world.

Standing nearby, Tiantong Star Lord let out a long sigh of relief and said quietly, "Ghost King, may I have a word in private?"

He Simu patted Duan Xu's back and released him, saying, "Rest well for now."

Duan Xu nodded obediently.

He Simu then turned and left the room with Tiantong Star Lord, just as Duan Jingyuan came running in with reddened eyes. "Has my brother woken up?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He Simu nodded, and Jing Yuan wiped her tears before rushing into the room. Tiantong Star Lord closed the door behind them and took a few steps aside before turning to face He Simu.

Tiantong Star Lord, a top-tier Star Lord from the Star Clarity Palace who presided over blessings, was one of the most powerful mortals in the world. With a youthful and gentle face, he sighed deeply and said, "Your Highness, I've done my best to nurse him and bless him with talismans. But his yang energy has been severely depleted, and his body's foundation is ruined. I... can only do my utmost."

He Simu lowered her gaze and cut straight to the point. "How long does he have?"

"If he rests well, perhaps around ten years," Tiantong Star Lord said carefully.

"If he could rest well, he wouldn't be Duan Xu," He Simu replied with a bitter smile.

"If he continues like this, even with my blessings and my full efforts to heal him... he won't last more than two years."

He Simu fell silent for a moment before looking up. The clear sky had unexpectedly begun to snow. Delicate snowflakes drifted lazily through the sunlight, crystalline and translucent, like a world of glass, melting into water as they touched the ground.

The second time she met Duan Xu, in Liangzhou, it had snowed just like this. Back then, Chen Ying was still just a child who only cared about eating. She had held Chen Ying in her arms while Duan Xu placed a veiled hat on her head. Through the gauze, she had watched his figure—light and straight—walk away.

Snow on a sunny day, a youth in this world.

And snow on a sunny day, arriving suddenly, melting upon touching the ground—fleeting as a dream.

"Alright, I understand. I'll trouble you further in the future, Star Lord," He Simu heard her own voice, calm yet hollow.

Tiantong Star Lord bowed. "No need for thanks."A sudden crash of objects falling and shattering came from inside the room. He Simu snapped out of her thoughts and immediately turned to push the door open, only to see the bedside cabinet toppled over and a vase shattered on the floor. Duan Xu had fallen to the ground, as if he had attempted to walk but failed. Duan Jingyuan was supporting him, tears streaming down her face as she cried, "Third Brother..."

He Simu quickly stepped forward to help Duan Xu up. He grabbed her arm and, before she could guide him back to bed, asked hoarsely, "Fang Xianye... Fang Xianye took his own life?"

His eyes were bloodshot, the words seemingly forced through clenched teeth.

He Simu paused briefly before replying, "Yesterday, I checked the Ghost Records. His name wasn’t there. He has already passed on."

Duan Xu closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead as he remained silent for a moment. Then, inexplicably, he began to laugh. The laughter started low but grew louder, gradually turning wild and piercing, as if a tempestuous wind had erupted from his frail body, threatening to overturn this absurd world.

He Simu seized his wrist. He trembled, slowly lowering his hand, his bloodshot eyes filled with boundless madness.

He grinned. "The Emperor is desperate to kill me. Then I’ll go to him myself—let’s see who kills whom first!"

That night, candlelight flickered as the young Emperor of Great Liang frowned over his memorials. The farce in court had temporarily stalled his plans. The Ministry of Justice claimed there was no evidence, so the matter of the forged edict could only be left unresolved. Lady Duan had gone to the Empress Dowager in tears, and the Empress Dowager had also declared it a forgery, insisting that the Emperor must treat his meritorious subjects with kindness.

Duan Xu was, of course, a meritorious subject—one of the greatest. The armies of the Northern Territory obeyed only his commands. Even the late Emperor’s edicts had failed to recall him. Yet when the current Emperor issued his own decree, Duan Xu had complied—only to return with ten thousand soldiers under the guise of a military review, a thinly veiled threat. Even the newly appointed commander sent to the Northern Territory had died under mysterious circumstances.

Such an uncontrollable man could not be allowed to live.

The Emperor was lost in these thoughts when he suddenly felt a chill against his neck—something had coiled around his throat. Startled, he tried to cry for help, only to find the attendants beside him already unconscious on the floor. No sound escaped his lips.

A shadowy figure emerged before him. When his vision cleared, who else could it be but Duan Xu?

Clad in black, his face deathly pale and eyes bloodshot, Duan Xu looked like a vengeful ghost from the underworld. He calmly pulled over a chair and sat down, crossing his legs as he regarded the most exalted ruler in the world.

The Emperor clawed desperately at his own neck. Duan Xu said coolly, "Your Majesty disregards the dire situation at the front lines and seeks to kill me while I’m ill. I never realized you feared me so much. But in our current predicament, I wonder who will die faster."

The Emperor stared at Duan Xu in shock.

Duan Xu nodded understandingly. "Your Majesty must be wondering how I got in. If I wish to enter, I can. Isn’t that right, Simu?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a woman in red materialized in the hall, her eyes entirely black, devoid of whites, as she stared coldly at the Emperor. The Emperor recoiled in disbelief, shrinking back in terror.

He Simu snapped her fingers, and the silken thread around the Emperor’s neck dissipated. Coughing violently, he clutched his throat and rasped for help, his voice echoing through the empty hall with no response. The Emperor scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the door, only to find it locked—no matter how hard he pounded, no one answered.He turned around in shock, looking at Duan Xu and He Simu, who merely watched him calmly as he flailed about, as if telling him—you can't escape.

The Emperor's eyes blazed with fury. He lowered his hand from the door he had been pounding and pointed at Duan Xu. "How dare you... How dare you treat me like this!"

"Why wouldn't I dare?" Duan Xu suddenly slammed the table and stood up, smiling. "What are you, really? The Emperor? What's so great about that? Do you have three heads and six arms? Or a heart with seven apertures? What can you do? Be born into the right family? Reap the rewards of others' labor? Secure your throne by installing loyalists? So only you can kill others, but no one can kill you?"

The Emperor stiffened his neck, seething with rage. "Outrageous! I am the Son of Heaven, the ruler of this land!"

Duan Xu scoffed. "This land? How much of it have you actually seen? You've never even stepped outside the Southern Capital in your entire life. A frog at the bottom of a well dares to speak of the world?"

He strode toward the Emperor, who stumbled back but was still grabbed by the collar. "Since Your Majesty insists, this subject will show you your so-called 'world.'"

In an instant, the world around them shifted. The Emperor watched in horror as all the furnishings of the palace vanished before his eyes, replaced by scorched earth beneath their feet. The deafening sound of war drums erupted from both sides.

Duan Xu released the Emperor's collar, and the Emperor staggered back, only to look down and find himself stepping on a soldier's severed limb. He screamed and fell to the ground. In the darkness, countless men swung blades through their bodies, hacking at one another. The clamor of battle filled the air, blood and flesh flying everywhere. Even the moonlight seemed dyed crimson, as if the land itself had become a man-eating furnace, grinding countless lives to dust.

The Emperor shrieked for help, but no one answered—no one even seemed to see them. They were like three ghosts haunting the battlefield.

Duan Xu stepped in front of the Emperor, bathed in moonlight like an asura from hell, looking down at him. "Do you see, Your Majesty? This, too, is your world. Every day, hundreds perish on the Northern Territory frontlines—the very 'achievements' you boast of in history. Every inch of this land belongs to those who tread upon it. You sit high in your hall, your feet touching but a tiny patch of ground. Do you truly believe the world belongs to you? That they should live and die for you?"

He yanked the Emperor up by the collar, staring into his terrified eyes as he enunciated each word: "No. It is you who must live and die for them. Fail in this, and you have no right to speak of 'this land.'"

The Emperor trembled for a long moment before mustering a defiant breath. "Duan Shunxi! You treacherous rebel! Kill me if you dare, but I will never bow to a traitor like you!"

Duan Xu tilted his head, his smile mocking. "Treacherous rebel? A ruler who drove his loyal ministers to death dares utter those words?"

Suddenly, the world shifted again. They were back in the brightly lit palace, warm and quiet, as if the blood-soaked hellscape had been nothing but an illusion. The Emperor looked fearfully between Duan Xu and He Simu before regaining his composure. "Duan Shunxi, you... you practice sorcery!"

Duan Xu released the Emperor's collar, letting him collapse to the floor.

Calmly, Duan Xu met his gaze and said, "Yes. I do.""I have not the slightest interest in your throne. I will drive the Huqi people away, ensuring they never again lay a finger on the Central Plains. You'd best guard your position well and govern this land properly, lest someone else snatches it from you. I neither harm nor serve you—just don’t stand in my way."

He crouched down and pointed at the Emperor, saying, "I’ll say this only once. Believe it or not, it’s up to you. My brother is dead. My friend is dead. If you dare lay a finger on anyone else I care about, I won’t hesitate to kill you. With my demonic arts that reach the heavens, no high walls or imperial guards can stop me from storming in and ending you as I did today. You should pray I stay alive, because if I die, I’ll haunt you day and night."

The Emperor trembled, his voice shaking. "Duan Shunxi... you... you’ve gone mad!"

Duan Xu laughed—bright and fierce—nodding in agreement. "Yes, so you’d better not provoke a madman. Now, write the edict. Send me back to the north."

When the attendants of Níng Lè Hall awoke at dawn, they found the Emperor sitting on the floor, pale and drained, as if struck by a heavy blow, his spirit shattered. They hurried to summon the imperial physician. Upon opening the door, they saw a figure cloaked in black receding into the distance across a field of pristine snow, an imperial decree in hand, leaving four sets of footprints in the blizzard.

The attendant rubbed his eyes—beside Duan Xu, there were two more sets of footprints, pacing alongside him through the swirling snow, eerie beyond belief. In a world unseen by mortal eyes, a girl in crimson triple-layered robes, her dark hair pinned with a silver hairpin, held Duan Xu’s arm as they slowly walked beyond the palace walls together.

The attendant turned and rushed to the Emperor’s side, helping him up. "Your Majesty... that... that was an assassin!"

The Emperor’s gaze drifted toward the retreating figure. Finally catching his breath, he gritted his teeth and said, "No. It was... a late-night summons. I secretly called Duan Shunxi into the palace and granted him an imperial decree... appointing him Grand Marshal of All Under Heaven... to lead the campaign against Danzhi."

Duan Xu’s body shuddered in the snow. He Simu steadied him as he smiled wearily and said, "I’ve broken your rules, haven’t I?"

She gripped his shoulder. "I didn’t say a word. All I did was take you on a trip to Youzhou. What rules did I break?"

After a pause, she sighed. "Just this once. If Feng Yi and the others come demanding answers, let them reduce me to ashes. See if they can find a better Ghost King."

"He Simu, since when do you talk like this?"

"Probably caught it from you. Gone mad too."

Duan Xu leaned against He Simu’s shoulder, laughing softly until his laughter turned into a choked sob.

Before entering the palace, Jing Yan had come to him, handing over the books and political treatises recovered from Fang Xianye’s residence. He said it was a matter of fulfilling a dying man’s wish—and that Fang Xianye had left him a final message.

Fang Xianye had said: A noble man dies for his friends. In my next life, I wish to be reborn in the Northern Territory. Promise me—you’ll make sure I live in a golden age of the Han people.