Love Beyond the Grave

Duan Xu, however, seemed to perk up, his weary face gaining a touch of vitality. He patted the spot beside his bed and said to Hejia Fengyi, "Your Excellency, why not sit down and chat?"

Hejia Fengyi eyed Duan Xu warily before reluctantly sitting on the edge of the bed.

For over a year now, He Simu had always been by Duan Xu's side. Though she never slept at night, she never left either. When the war had stabilized some time ago, Duan Xu grew curious about what He Simu did while he slept. After feigning sleep for a few days, he discovered that once he drifted off, she would begin writing in her diary.

She used the same journal Hejia Fengyi had mentioned to him—one frozen in time three hundred years ago. At some point, she had resumed recording the mundane details of daily life, just as she had in the past. Those ordinary, fragmented moments meticulously painted the picture of "Duan Xu" in every stroke of her pen.

"She wants to remember me," Duan Xu told Hejia Fengyi about this discovery. Frowning slightly, he admitted candidly, "I also know my health is failing. I can't go anywhere anymore, and in the days to come, I'll likely be confined to bedrest. If that's the case, what will she have to write about every day? I hope that journal can be filled with more beautiful memories. This world has been a gift to me, and I want to pass that gift on to her."

Hejia Fengyi silently studied Duan Xu, thinking to himself that this was truly a restless soul who would keep stirring trouble until his last breath.

If not for someone like him, how could he have turned the stagnant existence of their venerable ancestor upside down?

"You don't have much time left as it is. If you truly exchange all five senses with Simu at once, even for just an hour, there's no telling whether you'll survive even a day afterward."

Duan Xu nodded as if he had expected this. "I know."

"This can be done, but only if the venerable ancestor agrees. General Duan, you may die without regrets, but I still have to live," Hejia Fengyi said bluntly, spreading his hands.

Duan Xu laughed, his eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief. "Fine, I'll persuade Simu. She's been indulging me more and more lately—she'll agree."

Hejia Fengyi narrowed his eyes at Duan Xu. Back in the Southern Capital, Duan Xu had been the one pining unrequitedly. Now, he had their venerable ancestor completely figured out.

"Duan Shunxi, you're about to die, to leave the venerable ancestor behind. Doesn't that sadden you?"

A flicker passed through Duan Xu's gaze, and his smile faded. "In this lifetime, from the moment I fell in love until my death, she's the only girl I've ever loved. I consider myself fortunate. Now, I don't want my final days to be filled with sorrow."

"Though, perhaps when I'm truly at the end, I might cling to her and cry."

The sound of rain pattered softly, and Duan Xu seemed like a flower about to be battered by wind and rain. Even in such moments, he remained the same carefree, smiling youth who spoke lightly of everything.

Hejia Fengyi closed the door behind him and looked at Ziji waiting outside. She stood quietly holding an umbrella, her dark, fathomless eyes lifting to meet his gaze before silently stepping forward to shield him with the open umbrella.

Turning, Hejia Fengyi descended the steps into the courtyard, where the spring rain fell in a gentle drizzle. Ziji's umbrella remained steady above his head.

The crisp tap of his cane against the ground echoed like an absentminded heartbeat. Suddenly, Feng Yi tilted his head to glance at Ziji beside him.

"When I die, will you be sad? Will you cling to me and cry too?"Ziji froze for a moment, gently biting her lip as if unwilling to answer.

Hejia Fengyi couldn't help but sneer. After all these years, she still avoided talking about his impending death—how absurd.

"What are you running from? Wasn't it your kind who orchestrated the short-lived fate of the Mars Calamity Star lineage?"

After a pause, he added, "Oh Divine One."

Ziji's steps faltered.

The Mars Calamity Star bloodline was born rebellious yet gifted, and Hejia Fengyi had been particularly defiant in his youth. Plagued by illness since childhood and haunted by prophecies of an early demise, he had opened the Celestial Gate at just fifteen through his ancestral methods and Mars lineage, confronting the deities face to face.

He had pointed at those gods who dictated the world's order and berated them, declaring that those who never walked among mortals nor understood human suffering were unworthy of ruling over them. He had gone expecting death, yet after his tirade, amidst the blinding white light, a voice had actually offered to descend with him to experience mortal life.

Now, as Hejia Fengyi gazed at the silent beauty before him, her eyes like the depths of night, he seemed to see her stepping out of that radiance once more.

"Do you think you were wrong?" he asked.

Ziji stepped over the threshold and took Feng Yi's hand. Raising her eyes to meet his, she said, "Deities cannot err. Even humanity's concepts of 'right' and 'wrong' were established by the gods."

Feng Yi crossed the threshold too, chuckling softly. "Ah, how convenient. Then what was your original purpose in creating this system of order?"

"For the stable functioning of the world. For the happiness of the majority."

"So you exploited our kindness? Ziji, we safeguarded the happiness of many, yet were left with no choice but to suffer for it. Don't you find it unbearably arrogant to torment us under such noble pretenses?"

Ziji studied him earnestly, her voice calm. "That is precisely why I am here."

Hejia Fengyi watched her for a long moment before smiling noncommittally. "If you've never believed yourself mistaken, why haven't you returned? Truthfully, Ziji, I've grown tired of this game."

Suddenly he stepped out from under the umbrella into the drizzling rain. His hair and robes were quickly soaked through, the fabric clinging to his perpetually ill, gaunt frame, making him appear even more skeletal.

Ziji's composure shattered into alarm. "You—you'll fall sick like this!"

She moved to approach, but Feng Yi raised a hand to stop her. Smiling, he stepped backward—toward the cliff edge at the end of the stone steps.

"Ziji, you ordained my early death, condemned me to a life of unrelenting illness. Well today I choose to die. A fall from these heights should be quick."

Now teetering at the precipice, his footing precarious on the moss-slick stone, he staggered slightly. Ziji immediately dropped her umbrella to rush forward.

"Ziji!" Feng Yi's shout halted her mid-step. His burning gaze pinned her as he pointed accusingly. "You are a deity. The Divine Overseer of this era, from whose hand all mortal decrees flow. Think carefully—if you interfere in human affairs, there's no turning back. Save me now, and you admit your error."

Ziji stood frozen, her voice trembling with anger. "Hejia Fengyi, stop this madness!"Hejia Fengyi looked at Ziji's expression and suddenly burst into laughter, saying, "Divine Overseer, so you can get angry too. I thought people like you, after ascending to godhood, no longer had human hearts."

"But I am human, Divine Overseer. I am not part of your order. I breathe, my heart beats, I feel joy and sorrow. I am alive. Look at me—I am flesh and blood."

Hejia Fengyi took another half-step back, teetering on the edge of the cliff. His hand, which had been pointing at Ziji, slowly relaxed, palm upturned, as if waiting for her to reach out and pull him back.

"Ten years together, and now we come to this. Divine Overseer, will you save me?"

Ziji stood rooted to the spot, her fists clenched. The rain had drenched her delicate features and her robes alike. Amid the misty haze, she whispered, "Stop this foolishness."

It sounded almost like a plea.

Hejia Fengyi laughed. "Would you really miss a mere insignificant nail in your perfect order? Ziji?"

He saw her pupils contract when he called her by that name. Smiling, Hejia Fengyi closed his eyes and leaned back, feeling the rain against his face and the uncontrollable freedom of the impending fall.

A freedom from a life trapped in the cage of illness and the prophecy of an early death.

Then his hand was caught.

The hand that gripped his trembled, holding on with desperate strength. In an instant, he was yanked back, crashing into an embrace that carried the scent of lilac. The person holding him cradled the back of his head, her voice filled with fury as she said, "Hejia Fengyi! You... don't push me."

Hejia Fengyi lifted his head. The rain stung his eyes, but he didn't blink as he gazed at Ziji. "But you've already caught me."

Ziji's lips trembled. It had been so long since she'd felt such turbulent emotions that she could barely express them. "The one who caught you... is Ziji."

It was the humanity she had gradually reclaimed—the part of her that existed before she became a god.

Hejia Fengyi gently touched her cheek and said leisurely, "Isn't Ziji the Divine Overseer?"

Ziji blinked, raindrops tracing down her face.

Finally, she bowed her head and admitted, "Yes... first Ziji, then... a god."

As for the matter of exchanging senses, Duan Xu and He Simu had a fierce argument. From the disciples' discussions, Hejia Fengyi could roughly imagine the spectacle. But seven days later, He Simu still agreed.

Hejia Fengyi thought, This young general truly has never tasted defeat in his life.

On the day they exchanged senses, at Duan Xu's request, He Simu took him to the Southern Capital. They sat together atop Yù Zǎo Tower, leaning against each other. He Simu had dressed Duan Xu in a thick cape, and he held her hand, their fingers intertwined.

As the sun rose from the horizon, in that single moment, the entire world came alive in He Simu's eyes.

She saw the color of the sun—what people called orange-red—like a flame that wouldn't burn, warm and radiant. Everything was bathed in its light, as if gently sprouting golden fuzz, and even the pavilions and towers seemed to breathe.

The person beside her was incredibly warm. The fur of his cape brushed against her face, a tickling warmth. The tiles beneath her were hard and cold, gradually warming from her rising body heat.The sounds of lively chatter from guests in Yù Zǎo Tower mingled together—clear as pearls falling, mellow as aged wine, all blending into a vibrant symphony.

"What is that sound?" He Simu asked.

"In the mornings, it's usually the pipa, guzheng, and flute. Wait a little longer, and Qiuchi will come out to sing," Duan Xu replied, leaning against her shoulder with a smile.

Sure enough, a soft, melodious female voice soon rose from below, singing an indistinct yet tender tune that seemed to melt one's very soul.

The aroma of food wafted upward, and He Simu slowly distinguished the scents—braised Dongpo pork, mutton soup, beggar's chicken—countless delightful fragrances intertwining in the air. Perhaps just breathing them in could fill one's stomach.

"Want a drink?" Duan Xu pulled a flask of wine from his robe. His fingers were pale and slender, marked with dark wounds, yet gilded by the sunlight.

He Simu took the wine from him and sipped. The spicy, fragrant warmth spread through her chest.

This was the world of the living.

How wondrous and unique each of their days must be. A hundred years of such days would surely be bliss.

He Simu's eyes trembled as she slowly turned to look at Duan Xu.

Her Duan Xiaojiangjun, her Duan Fox, had the most beautiful skull in the world. His brows and eyes were like a painting, especially those clear, jade-like eyes that always carried a hint of laughter.

Sunlight fell on the side of his face, casting shadows along the bridge of his nose as he leaned in and kissed her gently. The kiss was warm, and though she tasted bitterness on his lips, she didn't mind it.

Any sensation from him, even bitterness, was precious.

"Simu, what do you think of this world?" he asked.

He Simu nuzzled his forehead and said, "It's wonderful. Like home."

Even in her youth, she had wandered without a home, and after entering the Ghost Realm, the concept of "home" became even more distant. Yet now, faced with this dazzling, magnificent world, she suddenly felt like a long-lost traveler catching sight of home at last.

"Duan Xu, Duan Shunxi... don't leave, alright?"

She had finally said it.

Such a ridiculous, illogical plea—yet the Ghost King, who had lived four hundred years and witnessed countless cycles of life and death, had spoken it aloud.

But Duan Xu didn't answer. He leaned against her shoulder and fell into a deep sleep, with no certainty of waking again.

She held his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck, trembling faintly.

"Duan Xu... Duan Xu... Duan Shunxi... Duan Shunxi... Duan Shunxi!" She gripped his shoulders, calling his name—first tentatively, then with growing panic, then with anger and sorrow.

In all her life, she had never cried loudly, never shouted someone's name until her voice broke. She didn't know how to beg someone to stay, didn't know what she could even hold onto. She had never been able to keep anything.

"...He Simu."

Duan Xu's voice sounded by her ear. He Simu froze, then lifted her head to meet a pair of bright eyes.

As if it were an illusion, he seemed less pale now, his face regaining some color, just as it had been before.

Duan Xu's eyes widened. He reached out, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek, and murmured, "He Simu... you're crying."

Only then did He Simu realize her face was wet with tears. She had actually cried.Evil Ghosts never shed tears, so how could she be crying?

"You're... warm, I can feel it..." Duan Xu murmured as he caressed her face, his expression dazed.

The scent of lilacs wafted through the air as a purple figure appeared beside them. He Simu turned her head in surprise to see the usually silent and mysterious Ziji standing there.

Ziji beckoned to He Simu, and the Ghost King Lamp at her waist flew into Ziji's hand. As the blue Ghost Fire flickered, a fragment of He Simu's soul separated from the lamp and returned to her body.

This was something no Evil Ghost—including He Simu herself—could accomplish so effortlessly, yet Ziji performed it without breaking a sweat.

"From now on, you are no longer the Ghost King, but a mortal," Ziji said to He Simu before turning calmly to Duan Xu. "Nor is today your day to die."

She carefully stored the Ghost King Lamp away, then looked down at them and spoke slowly: "In the name of the divine, I grant you a new fate. May you cherish it."

He Simu was stunned. Her gaze traveled past Ziji, landing on the distant figure behind her. The man wore cyan palace robes embroidered with an intricate Twenty-Eight Constellations Diagram, waving at her with a radiant smile.

Just like when she used to pick him up from Star Clarity Palace as a child. Back then, he would often ask her, "Ancestor, why must you die so alone? Ancestor, can we have a new fate?"

On that rainy day, after Ziji had stopped Hejia Fengyi, they had a long conversation.

—"Ziji, look at how everything in this world comes in pairs, perfectly matched. Remember when the city gates were uneven, and they tore bricks from the east wall to fix the west?"

—"What are you trying to say?"

—"Turn He Simu into a human. Cut short her long life and stitch it to Duan Xu's, so they may stay together as mortals. Shouldn't divine order show mercy to those who sacrifice themselves to save the world?"

In the end, He Simu remained in this world.

Duan Xu became the first person she ever managed to keep in her life.

Two years later.

"Duan Shunxi! Duan Xu!"

Shouts echoed through the summer woods, but looking around, all that could be seen were lush green trees—the voices had no visible source. Because the person had already fallen into a pit.

Standing at the bottom of the hole, He Simu gazed up at the high opening. She attempted to jump out a couple of times but failed, then crossed her arms with a frown.

Though she had adapted well to mortal life over the past two years, moments like these still made her miss her Magical Power. If she still had it, escaping this pit would be effortless—she wouldn't have fallen in to begin with.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Duan Xu's figure appeared at the mouth of the pit as he crouched down to assess He Simu's situation. He had regained his agile, healthy physique and wore a blue round-collared robe with tight sleeves, looking no different from the young general she had first met in Liangzhou City.

He Simu reached up. "Hurry and pull me out."

Seeing that the pit wasn't too deep and was lined with straw, Duan Xu knew she likely wasn't injured.

When she was an Evil Ghost, she often possessed humans and was familiar with most mortal affairs—except for injuries. She still thought herself invincible, only to end up battered and bruised, sometimes too proud to admit it.Seeing that she was unharmed, Duan Xu smiled leisurely and crouched by the cave entrance, saying, "If you want me to pull you up, call me 'husband' first."

He Simu raised an eyebrow, withdrawing her hand with a faint smile. "What did you say?"

Duan Xu rested his arms on his knees and sighed. "Back then, it was agreed that I'd be the live-in son-in-law of your He family. Yet now, there's no betrothal gifts, no matchmakers, no grand bridal sedan, no dowry stretching for miles. It'll be our tenth year together next year—surely we can't keep going on like this without any proper recognition?"

As he spoke, he even managed to sound somewhat aggrieved.

He Simu chuckled leisurely. "You ask for quite a lot. Unfortunately, I'm no longer the Ghost King and don’t have that kind of fortune anymore."

"But the Ghost Realm is still your family home, the acting Ghost King is your aunt, and the heir is your sworn brother. How can you say you have no fortune?" Duan Xu grinned. "Besides, a single painting by Simu is worth a fortune—more than enough to 'marry' me. Unless you'd rather 'marry' someone else?"

"The renowned 'Jade-Faced Yama,' the once-great General Duan, comes so cheap?"

"That depends on the person. For anyone else, the price would be astronomical. But for Simu, I can offer a discount." Duan Xu smiled faintly and extended his hand toward her. "Opportunity waits for no one. Take my hand, and it's a deal."

He Simu looked up at him for a long moment. Sunlight poured from behind him, vibrant and warm. With a soft laugh, she reached out and grasped his hand, saying, "Deal... husband."

"Excellent, wife."

His warm, strong hands pulled her out of the cave. As sunlight bathed her face, she suddenly remembered that New Year's Eve so many years ago when she had pulled him up from the ground.

Now, at last, she could tell him: I love you.

I will always love you. I will love you for all my life, never forgetting.