Love Beyond the Grave

Side Story - An Argument

Ever since He Simu became a mortal, she had increasingly discovered that the differences between people were sometimes even greater than the differences between humans and malevolent ghosts. For example, some people were born with extraordinary physiques, natural martial arts geniuses; others seemed to have borrowed their limbs, capable of falling off a horse before it even started running.

For example, Duan Xu and her.

Over two years, she had gradually adapted to the daily life of a mortal and had begun to eagerly try her hand at learning martial arts. Since the turn of events two years ago, Duan Xu’s body had slowly recovered. When he heard that He Simu wanted to learn martial arts, he volunteered to be her teacher.

Initially, when Chen Ying learned of this, he was filled with worry. He said that Third Brother’s teaching methods were liable to cause trouble, but He Simu thought nothing of it. As it turned out, once she began learning in earnest with real weapons, she realized Chen Ying’s words had been an understatement.

Duan Xu was too harsh.

And Duan Xu was too infuriating.

He Simu twirled her gauze-wrapped left hand and let out a cold snort. The middle-aged man in his forties beside her smiled. “What is troubling Miss He?”

He Simu was currently staying in Dài Province. She had gifted Jiang Ai several landscape paintings of Dài, which Jiang Ai had circulated among the province’s famous artists. The masters had praised them effusively, and once this news spread through Dài, her fame skyrocketed. A single painting of hers could fetch a thousand taels of gold.

She had to admit, Jiang Ai truly had a gift for making money.

The Boss Chen she was meeting today was a silk merchant in Dài Province, said to be the wealthiest man in the region with connections everywhere. His mansion in the provincial capital had ninety-nine and a half rooms, its interior filled with carved railings and painted pillars, opulent and magnificent. Right now, he was beaming, his eyes practically glowing as he looked at He Simu.

He Simu pointed to the painting placed to the side. “Boss Chen, have you had a good look? Are you buying this painting or not?”

“Of course, I’m buying! Nowadays, anyone who manages to acquire one of Miss He’s paintings will boast about it for days. I’ve long heard that Miss He is a peerless beauty, doubly blessed in looks and talent. Your paintings are beautiful, but you are even more beautiful than your art.”

He Simu said coolly, “I told you before, if you want to buy my painting, you must trade it for your shop’s prized treasure, the Tianlin Satin. Has Boss Chen prepared it?”

Boss Chen clapped his hands with a grin, and a servant emerged from behind a screen, holding a roll of silk cloth. It was a perfect cinnabar red, shimmering faintly with a silvery light.

He Simu walked over and reached out to touch the silk. It was as fine as a baby’s skin, warm and smooth. It was as light as a cicada’s wing yet completely opaque. The silver sheen that shifted with the light over the red surface was like the glittering waves of the sea under a setting sun.

“This Tianlin Satin is woven from the silk of precious celestial silkworms from the Western Regions. It took over ten years and more than two thousand celestial silkworms just to gather enough silk. The Lanyue Workshop then wove it into satin, and it was dyed by Se Guju using the finest cochineal. There were originally five bolts of this in the world. Two were lost in the fires of war, and another two were worn by the former Emperor and Empress, now buried with them. The only one left in this world is this bolt in my hands.”

Boss Chen puffed out his chest, proudly extolling his shop’s greatest treasure.

He Simu bent down, examining it carefully and feeling its texture. The red of the satin was reflected in her dark eyes. “This color is indeed beautiful,” she said softly.

She had seen many fine silks and satins in her time, and this bolt was truly a cut above the rest.

Seeing how much she liked it, Boss Chen’s eyes vanished into his smiling face. He sighed and said, “I came by this satin only with great difficulty. So many people have wanted to buy it, but I’ve refused them all. I was planning to keep it as a family heirloom.”

Hearing this, He Simu turned to size him up. “So, Boss Chen, are you giving it to me or not?”

Boss Chen finally dropped the pretense, a sly smile on his face. “You see, if we become family, there’s no need for ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’ You’ll have the satin, and I’ll still be able to pass it down. The best of both worlds…”

He Simu looked Boss Chen up and down, then down and up again. She withdrew her hand, straightened up, and turned to retrieve her painting from the table. “In that case, I’ll take my leave.”

Boss Chen’s hand landed on the painting, preventing her from taking it. He drew out a long “Aiy,” and looked at her. “I don’t bring this cloth out for just anyone. Miss He, you’ve seen it and you’ve touched it. Don’t be ungrateful.”

The household guards around the room stood shoulder to shoulder, forming an impenetrable wall. Boss Chen’s gaze clearly said, Now that you’re here, don’t even think about leaving.

He Simu glanced around, then withdrew her hand and said leisurely, “It seems Boss Chen wishes for me to stay for dinner.”

“You can have as many meals as you wish. Delicacies from land and sea, all at your choosing. You’ve seen the wealth of my Chen family; you will not be mistreated,” Boss Chen said with a lecherous smile.

He Simu scoffed and took out a Bright Pearl from her robes. “Then Boss Chen wouldn’t mind if I invited another friend, would he?” After a pause, she called out, “Fengyi.”

The Bright Pearl immediately began to glow with a gentle light.

“Ancestor?”

“A certain boss has extended a most enthusiastic invitation, insisting that I stay for dinner. I find it hard to refuse. Do you want to come?”

There was a moment of silence from the pearl, then a laugh. “How could I miss out on such a good thing?”

The moment the Bright Pearl spoke, Boss Chen’s expression turned to shock. The guards in the room also looked around, and a wave of fearful murmuring spread through the crowd. Just then, a violent gust of wind suddenly whipped through the room out of thin air. Papers and curtains flew everywhere. As everyone was caught off guard and sent stumbling, two figures materialized from within the wind.

A tall, slender man wore a white silk Daoist robe embroidered with red lotus patterns, and the twenty-eight lunar mansions were stitched in red thread on his back. He leaned on a staff. The purple-clad woman beside him was like a porcelain doll, with a fair face and jet-black hair. Her beautiful, expressionless face held a pair of deep, dark eyes.

The man tapped his staff on the ground, and the wind instantly dissipated, leaving only a mess behind.

Boss Chen fell to the floor in terror, crying, “Monsters, monsters!”

He Simu’s gaze fell on the woman, and she frowned. “Why is Ziji here?”

Hejia Fengyi said, “Ziji happened to be visiting me in the mortal realm, so I brought her along.”

After answering He Simu, he turned and walked toward the fallen Boss Chen. As if seeing a long-lost relative, he cordially grabbed Boss Chen’s shoulders and lifted him from the ground. “My apologies, my apologies. Our entrance was too abrupt. How rude of us. Seeing your dignified and prosperous air, you must be the boss who’s treating us to dinner, right? Your esteemed surname?”

Boss Chen shrank back, trembling too much to speak. His neck was short to begin with, and now he looked like a turtle with no neck at all.

He Simu said, “Boss Chen.”

Hejia Fengyi clapped his hands in amazement. “Oh! So your surname is Chen! Chen is a fine surname! My grand-master’s uncle’s daughter-in-law’s aunt was also named Chen! What a coincidence, don’t you think? We must be fated to dine together today.”

Hejia Fengyi familiarly pulled Boss Chen along, righted a toppled chair, and sat him down at the table. He then seated Ziji and He Simu before smiling at the still-frozen Boss Chen. “Please, don’t be polite with us. Dragon liver, leopard marrow, all the treasures of the land and sea—we could eat ten catties and not get tired. Just order whatever you’d like.”

“Why have you descended to the mortal realm?” He Simu asked Ziji directly.

More than two years had passed in a flash, yet the day she became mortal felt like yesterday. Ziji had shortened her long life into that of a mortal and saved the dying Duan Xu.

However, Ziji hadn’t come specifically to save her. She later learned that this was the result of Hejia Fengyi’s final victory in his protracted war with Ziji. She had merely been lucky enough to find a way out of a desperate situation by riding on Fengyi’s coattails.

Still, she didn’t have much fondness for Ziji. It was only natural that a person in a cage would not feel much affection for the one who built it.

“I came to see the new order.” The goddess sat at the round table of pearwood, carved with the Eight Immortals crossing the sea. She looked into He Simu’s eyes for a moment before speaking. “Miss He, you need not be hostile toward me. Livestock are not as strong as humans, humans not as strong as malevolent ghosts, and malevolent ghosts not as strong as gods. Life has its place, and each has its limits. To live each day in earnest with a tiny body and the will to live—the love and hate, joys and sorrows, birth, age, sickness, and death—all are worthy of respect.”

Ziji raised a hand and gestured between herself and He Simu. “It is the same between us. I respect your pain and your plight, which is why I amended the order.”

He Simu was silent for a moment, seemingly accepting her answer, before turning the topic to Hejia Fengyi. “Lady Goddess, what are your thoughts on Fengyi now?”

After consulting with his family, Hejia Fengyi had already passed his Yinghuo star-fate to his nephew. He was no longer the Calamity Star of Yinghuo, nor was he the most powerful spiritualist in the world. However, this also meant he could now cultivate the Dao for ascension.

For him to only begin formally cultivating for ascension at his age, the future looked bleak.

“When he ascends, he should be a better god than I.”

“And if he ultimately fails to ascend?”

Ziji was quiet for a moment. “Then that is how it must be.”

Hejia Fengyi stroked his staff, sitting to the side and watching the back-and-forth between these two ancestors. He felt like a young boy about to start school, with these two being his teacher and parent, discussing his academic prospects.

Boss Chen sat rigidly at the table, wringing his hands as if this were not his home but a place he’d been dragged to as a guest. He darted his eyes left and right, stammering, “G-Gods? A-Ascension? Who… who exactly are you all…?”

Just as he mustered the courage to ask about this incredible situation, the door was suddenly kicked open. A door panel fell flat on the floor with a thud, sending up a cloud of dust. The sight made Boss Chen let out a wail, heartbroken over his fine door made of purple sandalwood.

A man in a blue, round-collared robe with fitted sleeves stood where the door had been, holding the collar of an unconscious guard in his hand. The man was nearly thirty, handsome and tall, with an upright posture from years of martial arts practice. His round eyes shone like starlight.

He was clearly surprised by the scene in the room. His gaze swept over everyone before landing on Hejia Fengyi, the person most likely to be able to explain the situation.

Hejia Fengyi met his gaze and immediately broke into a wide grin, waving his staff. “Well, well, if it isn’t Young Master Duan! Boss Chen said he wanted to keep Ancestor for dinner, and Ancestor felt it was too lonely with just the two of them, so she called me and Ziji over. Does Young Master Duan want to join the fun too?”

Duan Xu was silent for a moment, his eyes on the chicken-like Boss Chen caught between them all. He loosened his grip, and the guard dropped to the floor. Placing his hands behind his back, he put on an innocent smile as if nothing had happened. “Boss Chen is so hospitable. He surely wouldn’t mind one more set of bowls and chopsticks, would he?”

Boss Chen stared mournfully at his door panel and raised a hand to point angrily at Duan Xu, but then he heard Hejia Fengyi say, “What are you saying? You’re simply insulting our Boss Chen. How could a great man like our Boss Chen possibly mind one extra set of bowls and chopsticks? Look how excited Boss Chen is, he’s about to order the servants to bring the food.”

After speaking, he turned to Boss Chen with a smile. “Am I right?”

Boss Chen silently lowered his hand and forced a smile. “Right… right… Hurry up and serve the dishes!”

Duan Xu walked to the table. The seats on either side of He Simu were empty. He glanced at her expression, pursed his lips, and sat in the seat opposite her—next to Hejia Fengyi. Fengyi observed the atmosphere between the two and thought, They’ve definitely had a fight.

“I… I still don’t know your esteemed names, my lords?” the pitiful Boss Chen finally asked the table of clearly abnormal people.

Hejia Fengyi smiled. “Oh, I forgot to say. I am Hejia Fengyi of Xingqing Palace, and this is Ziji. I am Miss He’s relative.”

“Oh! So you are a Daoist master from Xingqing Palace! I have eyes but failed to see Mount Tai!” Boss Chen bowed in terror. Common folk might not know of other immortal sects, but Xingqing Palace was a household name, known to all.

Duan Xu glanced at He Simu, but she turned her gaze away.

He said, “I am Duan Xu. He Simu is my betrothed.”

Before Boss Chen could even register his surprise, he heard He Simu let out a cold laugh. “Who’s your fiancée? What marriage? I’m calling it off.”

Duan Xu looked at He Simu for a moment, then his eyes curved into a smile. “Fine, if we don’t get married, we don’t get married. We’ve made it this many years without a proper title anyway. But you have to tell me why.”

He Simu didn’t look at him. She just stroked the scroll of her painting on the table, not saying a word. The gauze wrapped around her left hand was particularly conspicuous.

Duan Xu fiddled with his fingers. “If it’s because I accidentally injured your hand earlier, I apologize.”

The Powang sword at his waist slid from its sheath. As its cold light flashed, Boss Chen clutched his head, dropped to the ground, and yelled, “Spare my life, young hero!”

But the sword was not aimed at Boss Chen. It was pressed down by He Simu, who grabbed his left hand and said angrily, “Duan Shunxi, what are you doing?”

“If you’re truly that angry, then I’ll give you this hand of mine in compensation. Do whatever you want with it. Sever my tendons, crush my bones, I won’t say a word,” Duan Xu said with a smile, his eyes fixed on He Simu.

“It’s not about that! I know you didn’t do it on purpose. You just didn’t expect me to be so weak.”

Duan Xu caught the fleeting frustration in He Simu’s eyes. He fell silent for a moment, then grabbed her uninjured wrist. “I understand. Come with me.”

“Let go!” He Simu snapped.

Duan Xu simply strode over, hoisted her onto his shoulder, and turned to leave. He Simu’s face flushed red with anger. She struggled on his shoulder, looking at Hejia Fengyi and shouting, “Fengyi!”

Hejia Fengyi covered his eyes. “Oh dear, my hearing isn’t what it used to be. Ziji, what’s that mortal saying about an upright official having a hard time with something?”

“An upright official has a hard time settling domestic disputes,” Ziji supplied.

Hearing the footsteps and shouts fade away, Hejia Fengyi lowered his hand and turned to Boss Chen with a smile. “Boss Chen, you should thank me today. That young master just now has a terrible temper. If I hadn’t been here, your fate today would have been the same as your door panel. For that alone, we should add a few more dishes today…”

Once they were out of the Chen family’s massive ninety-nine-and-a-half-room mansion, Duan Xu put He Simu down, and they rode his horse all the way back to their residence in Dài Province. It wasn’t until they had stepped into their room that Duan Xu finally let go of her.

He Simu had long stopped struggling. He turned to look at her and saw that her face was red with anger, her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was biting her lip as she stared at him coldly.

After a moment of silence, Duan Xu asked softly, “Simu, do you regret it?”

He Simu’s gaze hardened. “I have absolutely no regrets. I’m just…”

Just… she thought. Just what?

The room was unlit, and the light was gradually fading. The orange of the setting sun reflected in Duan Xu’s bright eyes, giving them the viscous texture of warm, fragile syrup.

She loved this world she now possessed. If she hadn’t become a mortal, she would never have seen such a vivid world, nor felt such a vivid Duan Xu. How could she possibly regret it?

It was just that she still wasn’t used to being the fragile and powerless mortal, He Simu.

She once had formidable ghost power that was hers by birthright. All malevolent ghosts prostrated themselves before her. No one in this world could threaten her, and nothing short of life and death could shake her. She used to look upon the teeming masses of mortals with both pity and yearning—pity for their weakness, and yearning for their vitality.

Now she had their vitality, but she had also inherited their weakness.

Duan Xu was so strong that she was utterly defenseless before him. He had only sparred with her casually during a lesson, and she had still gotten her hand bone easily injured. When he carried her or pulled her along, she was powerless to resist. The things he taught her, she learned so slowly, with such difficulty, as if she were naturally incapable of acquiring that kind of strength.

Before, she had been invincible by virtue of her innate talent. She had never experienced such frustration. She didn’t like looking up to others like this. She didn’t like this feeling of not being in control of herself.

She was angry at herself.

In the light of the setting sun, Duan Xu’s chest rose and fell. It was quiet all around, with only the sound of their breathing.

“To be alive is to experience age, sickness, and death. This is also a part of this world. Are you disappointed in this world?” Duan Xu asked, his gaze burning as he looked at He Simu.

He Simu shook her head. “I’m not disappointed in the world. I’m disappointed in myself.”

Duan Xu let out a soft laugh. “Yes, you no longer have that immense power you once did. But in this mortal world, you still have me, and Hejia Fengyi, and Jiang Ai and Chen Ying. What are you afraid of?”

“But that’s still…”

“Still not your own power? Then what do you need me by your side for? Only to share the good times and not the bad? Do you think that needing my help is something to be ashamed of? Do you think I would look down on you in the slightest for these things? He Simu, when I was on my deathbed, did I ever refuse your help? I knew perfectly well that I could never shake your long life, that compared to you I was as fragile as an ant. Did I ever shrink back or blame you for it?”

Duan Xu’s voice grew louder as he spoke, his eyes trembling and growing redder. After he finished, his chest heaved violently. He pulled the stunned He Simu into his arms and said in a low voice, “Can you… can you not just run off without a word every time you get angry? It was the same back then. You just said it was over, and that was it. I’m truly terrified of you.”

His heart was pounding violently. Even through their layers of clothing, she could feel his anger and his fear. She thought of the young man who had fought his way through the ghost army to reach her all those years ago. If she had been able to feel it then, would his heart have been beating like this?

He Simu wrapped her arms around his back. “So how you felt back then,” she said in a low voice, “is how I feel now.”

The fox Duan was truly brave. If it had been her, she probably wouldn’t have persisted with such a beginning.

Duan Xu had been gambling his entire life up to the age of twenty-six. His soul had always been floating in mid-air, one half held by himself and the other given over to fate, a life of constant peril, of gains and losses intertwined. Only in the last two years had he finally found his footing because of her.

He had always lived like this—never in complete control of himself, living on, both fragile and tenacious.

But it was precisely because of fragility that one could be passionate, because of pain that one knew happiness, because of cold that one knew warmth. This was the mortal world she loved.

“Being a mortal is really hard…” He Simu muttered. “I need time. I have to learn slowly.”

“We have plenty of time. You have to rely on me. Don’t leave me,” Duan Xu said, his voice like a sigh in her ear.

“Okay.”

“You scared me. You have to compensate me.”

He Simu chuckled softly. “Okay.”

Duan Xu took a deep breath against her neck, then swept her up in his arms, turned, and laid her on the bed. He leaned down to kiss her. She hooked her arms around his neck, and his voice came out muffled. “Be careful with your hand.”

“Mortals are so troublesome…”

He Simu’s voice was lost in a gasp.

The sky had turned completely dark, but the lamps in the room remained unlit.

Amidst the overly vivid sensations, He Simu opened her eyes and saw Duan Xu’s expression—feverish, infatuated, as if he were a ball of fire about to plunge into water, willing to trade all his blazing heat for a moment of the water’s warmth. His eyes were hazy, and sweat slicked his hair to his temples. A drop of his sweat fell onto her neck, so hot it felt like it might burn her. The identical scent of agarwood on their bodies intertwined, seeming to permeate the entire room.

She lifted her head to offer him her lips and tongue. As their mouths tangled, a sigh escaped her. “This is bad. I think I’m falling more and more in love with you.”

In this vibrant world, he was still the most radiant person.

She had seen many landscapes, but she could never forget the smile he gave her years ago, dressed in his red wedding robes amidst a sky full of firecracker confetti. She could never forget the clean, gentle fragrance on him.

To say nothing of now, with this warm, bright, living Duan Xu in her arms.

The consequence of her words was a sharp cry from her, as things became even more intense.

Duan Xu's ears turned red, so she bit his earlobe.

He trembled slightly and chuckled softly, "It seems you don’t want to get out of bed tomorrow."

"You taking care of me... wouldn’t be so bad."

He Simu paused, then kissed the strand of prematurely silvered hair at his temple.

They would live as mortals in this vibrant, lively world. Time would pass, but there was nothing to fear in its passage—they too were flowing with it, until He Simu’s entire life and Duan Xu’s became completely intertwined.

A lifetime’s fortune, to grow old with you.

Later, Boss Chen’s unparalleled Tianlin silk still ended up becoming the wedding dress for the former Ghost King—though He Simu was still angry with Duan Xu that day, she had indeed gone with the intention of securing the fabric for her own wedding gown.