Love Beyond the Grave

The city of Shuozhou was bustling with activity as soldiers cleaned up the battlefield and civilians tidied the streets. Duan Xu stood outside the military tents beyond the city walls, still clad in armor though the blood on his face and body had been wiped clean. Meng Wan stood by his side.

Duan Xu raised his hands, pressing them together with fingers interlaced against his lips, then separated them, only to cross them again.

Though Meng Wan knew this was his habitual gesture when deep in thought, sometimes she couldn’t fathom what he was pondering. Tentatively, she asked, "Shunxi, are you worried about Han Xiaowei and He Xiaoxiao?"

Recent reports had come in—Han Lingqiu, while escorting He Xiaoxiao to Shuozhou, had been ambushed by Danzhi forces and lost contact.

It was now the morning of the second day, and there was still no word from Han Xiaowei or He Xiaoxiao.

Duan Xu turned his gaze toward her, the absent look in his eyes sharpening into focus. He shook his head with a smile.

"I’m not worried about He Xiaoxiao."

"Then you—"

"Report!" A scout sprinted over and knelt before Duan Xu. "General, Han Xiaowei and Miss He’s carriage has been spotted. They’ll arrive at the city within half an incense stick’s time."

Duan Xu grinned at Meng Wan. "See? No need to worry about her. Send someone to greet them."

When Meng Wan saw He Xiaoxiao’s carriage, she was momentarily stunned. The carriage originally belonged to a wealthy Han family in Shuozhou, who had gladly offered it for use upon the arrival of Great Liang’s army.

Thus, the carriage had once been resplendent, but now it was streaked with dark and light patches of bloodstains. Half the curtains had burned away, and two arrows were embedded in its sides. Han Lingqiu was injured, his left arm hanging limply as blood streamed down.

The aftermath of the fierce battle was evident.

"Han Xiaowei, are you all right?" Meng Wan dismounted and approached him.

Han Lingqiu shook his head briefly. "We were ambushed by Danzhi forces on the road. Took some minor injuries."

"We just received the news. How many were there? How did you repel them?" Meng Wan pressed anxiously.

"About a hundred… We were outnumbered. We were near the mountains when suddenly, blue Ghost Fire rolled down from above… It didn’t burn trees or animals—only people. The enemy suffered heavy casualties and retreated."

"And you?"

"…Strangely, the flames didn’t touch us."

A long sigh came from inside the carriage, followed by He Simu’s voice. "There were many graves on that mountain. Perhaps the ancestors grew wrathful."

This… ghosts in broad daylight?

Meng Wan couldn’t help but eye the carriage suspiciously. Why was He Xiaoxiao always tangled up with supernatural occurrences? Now, not only did she find He Xiaoxiao inscrutable, but also rather ill-omened.

When the carriage finally stopped before Duan Xu, He Simu lifted the curtain. While Han Xiaowei and the soldiers were covered in dust and grime, she appeared unscathed, her sweet, charming face still smiling—though her complexion seemed a bit pale.

But her composure didn’t last long.

As she stepped down from the carriage, her legs suddenly gave way. Staggering, she flailed her arms and tumbled straight into Duan Xu, who stood right in front of her.

The impact was solid—had Duan Xu not been steady on his feet, they both might have fallen. For a moment, silence enveloped the scene.

Meng Wan’s face turned ashen.

Duan Xu’s eyes widened in surprise, then he raised an eyebrow slightly, putting some distance between himself and He Simu.He raised his hand and placed it on her forehead, saying, "Little girl, you're sick. You have a fever."

After a pause, he smiled and added, "Didn't you notice?"

Notice?

This little fox was testing her again.

He Simu's eyes flickered slightly as she gazed at Duan Xu for a moment before putting on a pitiful expression, wiping her eyes. "I was so scared on the road, and only relaxed when I saw you. Now I do feel a bit unwell..."

As she spoke, she tilted her head and deliberately collapsed into Duan Xu's arms.

...This girl was quite the actress! Meng Wan gritted her teeth.

In truth, He Simu was acting—but also not entirely acting, because this body really was difficult to control. At first, she thought it was because she had been away from it for too long, but when Duan Xu pointed it out, she realized the body was actually ill.

Falling sick was one of the most troublesome things when possessing a body.

He Simu lay under the covers, propped up in bed. This was a warm room in Shuozhou's prefectural city, specially prepared for her by a wealthy Han merchant, with a roaring fire in the stove. The physician took her pulse and asked, "Have you been feeling fatigued lately, with weak limbs and abdominal pain?"

"..." He Simu smiled gently and said, "A little, perhaps."

"Fear of wind and cold, loss of appetite?"

"A little."

"Chest tightness and shortness of breath..."

"A little."

He Simu maintained the same serene smile, responding uniformly to every question—"a little."

Whether the body felt discomfort was one thing; whether the Evil Ghost possessing it felt anything was another. Evil Ghosts couldn't even sense temperature, let alone pain, discomfort, or more complex sensations like chest tightness and shortness of breath.

Based on He Simu's usual experience, if the person she possessed fell ill, the original owner usually had to wake up to describe the symptoms—otherwise, a minor illness could easily escalate into something severe.

Fortunately, this time the physician was a military doctor, accustomed to patients who couldn't speak. Seeing He Simu's vague answers, he didn’t press further and efficiently skipped the "inquiry" part of diagnosis, prescribing medicine instead.

He Simu sat on the bed, idly telling ghost stories to Chen Ying while waiting for the medicine to be brewed.

A knock sounded at the door—three light taps. Without looking up, He Simu said, "Come in."

Chen Ying, who had been pale with fear from the ghost stories, brightened instantly and jumped up, shouting, "Brother General!" Only then did He Simu lift her head to look.

Duan Xu stood in the room, holding a steaming bowl of medicine. He wasn’t wearing armor, dressed instead in a simple round-collared robe. When their eyes met, he flashed her a bright smile.

"Miss, time for your medicine," Duan Xu said as he sat by her bedside.

He Simu sent Chen Ying out first, then took the bowl from him. The scars on his fingers had scabbed over, leaving uneven marks on his fair skin. It made one wonder how many more wounds lay hidden beneath his clothes, unseen.

This might very well be intentional—given his martial prowess, he could likely cut through enemy lines three times over without breaking a sweat. So who could have hurt him?

He Simu mused silently, but on the surface, she wore a flattered smile. "How could I trouble the General with such a trivial matter?"

"You're the Diviner of our army and a hero of Treading White. Your illness is no trivial matter."

"Is this a Treading White tradition? If Commander Xia were injured, would the General personally bring him medicine too?""That wouldn't be the case. I heard from Meng Wan that you like me, so I thought you'd be even happier if I brought you medicine."

The moment the words "you like me" were spoken, He Simu sprayed the medicinal soup all over Duan Xu's face.

Black liquid dripped down Duan Xu's sharply defined features like water running off jade pulled from an inkstone.

He blinked, then burst into laughter like a child who'd successfully played a prank.

Faced with Duan Xu's inexplicable joy, He Simu was momentarily speechless. She could only take out a handkerchief, steadying his face with one hand while continuously wiping it with the other, repeatedly apologizing. Duan Xu didn't resist, letting her clean the medicine from his face while his bright eyes smiled at her.

He Simu's hands moved from Duan Xu's jawline to his cheekbones, applying slight pressure to examine his bone structure. She thought to herself that this young general indeed had excellent cranial features.

Noticing her gaze shifting toward the side of his face, Duan Xu tilted his head slightly and smiled leisurely.

"So it's like this. The lady doesn't fancy me, but my skull instead? Could it be that the lady enjoys collecting skulls?"

This conversation could practically continue the ghost story she'd just been telling Chen Ying.

Though in tales about her—this particular ghost—she did indeed enjoy collecting skulls, with hundreds in her collection.

He Simu smiled faintly and said, "I've merely wandered the martial world for years and developed some eccentric habits. How could I compare to the general, who at fourteen could escape from bandits and travel hundreds of miles to the Southern Capital?"

Duan Xu's eyes flickered slightly as he laughed. "You've investigated me."

"The feeling is mutual—you're no less thorough."

"In that case, what conclusions have you drawn?"

"And what conclusions have you drawn about me?"

He Simu cupped Duan Xu's face, shedding her timid and docile facade to gaze directly into his eyes, pulling his face closer.

At a distance where their cheeks almost touched, she whispered, "We're like shadow puppeteers on stage—let's not pierce this paper screen, shall we?"

After a pause, she released his face and moved away.

Just as they separated by about two feet, Duan Xu suddenly placed his hands on He Simu's shoulders and pulled her close again. He murmured by her ear, "Perhaps there are a thousand layers of paper. Even if we pierce this one, there's always the next, Miss He."

Having said this, he moved away, his youthful face beaming as if all the veiled probing had never happened.

"To me, you're simply an extraordinary person who's lost her five senses. Though I don't know what you seek, I'm willing to trust you. Since you've helped me, I'll treat you as an honored guest with utmost care—that's all."

He Simu crossed her arms and studied Duan Xu for a moment before saying, "Young general, how do you know this extraordinary person will keep helping you? Perhaps I'll turn around and assist Danzhi instead."

"Oh? From my observations, their skulls aren't particularly attractive. I doubt they could catch your eye as I have."

This young general was truly quick-witted.

"You're so certain?" He Simu asked.

"I'm not certain at all," Duan Xu said, tilting his head with a smile. "I just have a fondness for gambling, and my luck has been good—I always manage to turn danger into victory."

"You think you can win this bet?"

"Not betting means never winning."

Duan Xu stood gracefully, the medicine bowl in his right hand, while his left hand rested behind his back as he bowed slightly. Saying he'd fetch her another bowl of medicine, he turned and left.He Simu watched his light footsteps and murmured, "Truly a man of many layers."

They say a gentleman is like jade, but his aura was something even more transparent and luminous than jade—like crystal.

This was likely due to his eyes that seemed to contain a layer of radiance.

Yet in truth, he was like a fathomless icy abyss.

Those eyes were truly deceptive.