Love Beyond the Grave

At these words, everyone in the camp was startled. Meng Wan said, "The weather is still cold now. What's the use of blowing up the Guan River? It'll freeze over again in just a few days."

"The Guan River area usually has mild winters, and the river doesn't freeze. This year's extreme cold is rare, causing the ice. But I don’t think this cold spell will last much longer." He Simu counted on her fingers and said, "Ten days from now, the temperature will rise sharply, and the cold will retreat, bringing warm weather. If you blow up the Guan River a few days before that, the water likely won’t freeze again so quickly. Afterward, even if the weather fluctuates, the river might develop thin ice at its coldest, but it won’t be thick enough for people or horses to cross."

Duan Xu smiled and said, "I think it's a great idea."

Wu Shengliu looked at He Simu, then at Duan Xu, and asked, "After blowing up the Guan River, what then? Retreat to Liangzhou?"

So far, the entire Treading White army still didn’t know what orders Commander Qin had given Duan Xu. Wu Shengliu assumed it was to delay the Danzhi reinforcements. By fortifying their defenses, clearing the fields, and blowing up the Guan River, they could slow the Danzhi reinforcements by about half a month—already quite an achievement. After all, the entire Treading White army numbered only 80,000. To protect the rear at Liangzhou, only 50,000 troops had been sent to Shuo Prefecture this time. They truly couldn’t ask for more.

Duan Xu raised his eyes and finally dropped a bombshell with deliberate calm: "Commander Qin's orders are for Treading White to hold Shuo Prefecture's capital at all costs. Not a single Danzhi reinforcement is to pass, and not one step back is to be taken."

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the crackling of charcoal in the brazier, its cheerfulness oddly out of place.

He Simu leisurely took a sip of tea.

"How is that possible? We only have 50,000 troops!"

"The Danzhi forces moving south are the Hulan Army, and Awoerqi is a notorious fierce general."

Before the captains' protests could gain momentum, Wu Shengliu's booming voice drowned them out: "Not one step back? Is this a joke? If we don’t return to Liangzhou, we’ll all die here! Did Commander Qin really say that, or are you just greedy for military glory, biting off more than you can chew?"

The smile in Duan Xu's eyes faded slowly, leaving only a shallow veneer, devoid of sincerity.

For years, there had been no major conflicts along the Guan River, only occasional skirmishes. Great Liang, content with its peace and prosperity in a corner of the land, had even seen its soldiers grow complacent. Decades had passed, and this generation of soldiers had long forgotten the terror of the Huqi People's arrival, the fear of national annihilation.

He rose from his seat and walked step by step toward Wu Shengliu, saying as he went, "Wu Lang Jiang, your words are strange. I am your general, and have you forgotten..."

Stopping in front of Wu Shengliu, he leaned down and said, "Death is the true face of war. Even the victors need bones to pave their path, with countless dead and wounded."

"The land beneath our feet is not Danzhi's Shuo Prefecture but the Shuo Prefecture of the former Dasheng Dynasty. Decades ago, our ancestors were buried here, defeated by Danzhi. That’s why Danzhi's iron hooves could roam unchecked across the seventeen prefectures, even raiding and slaughtering their way south to Liangzhou. That’s why we’ve fought so hard and shed so much blood to return here now. Before our homeland, we should be willing to die ten thousand deaths without hesitation."

The room fell utterly silent. Wu Shengliu looked up at Duan Xu, his fists clenched so tightly they creaked.He recalled the corpses strewn across the streets of Liangzhou City, and his blood boiled with fury. The logic Duan Xu spoke of wasn't lost on him, but their meager forces were like an ant before a chariot wheel compared to Danzhi's massive army. He still harbored grand ambitions of leading an army—was he truly to meet his end here?

Duan Xu chuckled again, tilting his chin slightly with curved eyes.

"Wu Lang Jiang, there's no need for such despair. We will win."

Wu Shengliu wavered but remained unconvinced.

"You say we'll win, so we will?"

"Wu Lang Jiang, though I may be somewhat autocratic, I haven't lost yet, have I?"

Wu Shengliu stared at Duan Xu for a long moment before slamming the table so hard it cracked. Pointing at Duan Xu, he roared, "Fine! I'll damn well trust you one more time! It's not death I fear—it's dying for nothing! I'm meant to be a general! If those Danzhi bastards don't crawl back to their homeland, I'll haunt your Duan family even as a ghost!"

Duan Xu's eyes burned with intensity as he pushed Wu Shengliu's hand away. "Rest assured, Lang Jiang. If we become ghosts, I'll be right there with you."

Watching the refined Duan Xu, Wu Shengliu suddenly remembered hearing that this noble-born young master was originally groomed to become a chancellor—a position far loftier than a general. The thought stirred a flicker of pity in him.

But Duan Xu remained oblivious, simply turning to bow to the officers in the tent.

"The defense of Shuozhou's capital rests in your hands."

The assembled lieutenants, most older than Duan Xu, returned the gesture solemnly, their expressions resolute after witnessing the exchange between Duan Xu and Wu Shengliu.

As they left the tent, He Simu walked beside Duan Xu. Watching Wu Shengliu's retreating figure, she teased, "If you ask me, Wu Shengliu dislikes you mostly because you're too good-looking."

Most military men took pride in rugged ferocity, disdaining clean-cut handsomeness—let alone someone as strikingly handsome as Duan Xu.

Duan Xu arched a brow. Outside the tent, the sunlight was brilliant, the wind strong. His hair ribbon fluttered, and the silver pin securing his hair gleamed like his smiling eyes.

"I'm honored by your praise," he replied cheerfully.

"Wu Lang Jiang actually trusts you," He Simu remarked.

From Liangzhou to Shuozhou, not a single battle had been easy. Yet Duan Xu kept Wu Shengliu by his side through each victory, earning his grudging respect. Otherwise, Wu Shengliu wouldn't have followed Duan Xu's orders to attack Shuozhou's capital without question.

The lieutenants in camp—even the Treading White soldiers—had likely come to acknowledge Duan Xu through these hard-fought battles.

Still, expecting Wu Shengliu to defer to someone nearly a decade his junior was asking too much.

"Are you certain we can win?"

This was a battle of twenty thousand against three—an overwhelming disparity.

"If I were ten-tenths certain, I wouldn't be much of a gambler."

Duan Xu winked as he helped He Simu into the carriage. When it began moving, she lifted the curtain to find him still standing outside. Meeting her gaze, he grinned and waved.

He looked bright and gentle.

A bright, gentle madman of a gambler.

He Simu let the curtain fall with a sigh.He Simu's carriage gradually disappeared into the distance, heading toward the Lin residence in the city to rest. Han Lingqiu watched the carriage until it was out of sight, then shifted his gaze to Duan Xu, who stood ahead.

Duan Xu was only slightly younger than him, their ages quite close. This nobleman from the Southern Capital carried himself very differently from the rough men of the military, yet he never put on airs. He always wore a smile, his face as calm as still waters even when storms raged within.

Han Lingqiu couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was familiar—especially when Duan Xu smiled. The sense of recognition was particularly strong then.

"General!" This time, he finally managed to call out to Duan Xu, who turned to look at him, signaling for him to continue.

Han Lingqiu hesitated before asking, "General, have we met before? Perhaps... five or six years ago?"

Duan Xu's eyes flickered. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. "Why do you ask? If we had met before, wouldn’t you remember it yourself?"

After a pause, Han Lingqiu gritted his teeth and replied, "General, to be honest, I suffered a severe injury five or six years ago. This scar on my face is from it. After recovering, I couldn’t remember anything from before."

Even the name "Han Lingqiu" had been given to him by the family who took him in. The only vague impression he had from before the injury was someone telling him—Go south, go to Great Liang, and never return.

In truth, he had been injured in Danzhi. Because of that single remembered phrase, once he recovered, he fled from Danzhi to Great Liang.

Losing those memories hadn’t greatly affected his life. He seemed accustomed to living alone and never sought to recover them. But the moment he first saw Duan Xu, he suddenly felt an overwhelming familiarity.

Like an old friend returning.

Duan Xu appeared genuinely surprised, then sympathetic. He shook his head and said, "I didn’t know Han Xiaowei carried such a wound. Unfortunately, five or six years ago, I was still in Dài Province. I don’t recall ever meeting you."

Han Lingqiu looked somewhat dejected but saluted in acknowledgment. Duan Xu patted his shoulder in reassurance before turning to walk back to the tent.

As Duan Xu turned away, his smile faded into something unreadable, his expression darkening.

He Simu had no intention of getting involved in their plan to blow up the Guan River. The military camp was quite a distance from the Lin residence in the city, so she stayed in her room, resting and recuperating in this borrowed body. Occasionally, she chatted with Feng Yi or flipped through the Ghost Records to catch up on worldly affairs during her leave.

Shao Yinyin’s name had vanished from the Ghost Records on schedule, confirming that she had dissipated into nothingness, exiting the cycle of reincarnation without a trace left in this world.

Guan Huai had indeed been obedient.

That old man had always been a fence-sitter, quick to bend with the wind. When she had quelled the rebellion, he was the first to defect and pledge allegiance. He had always been adept at reading the room and avoiding trouble.

Leaning back in her chair, He Simu idly flipped through the Ghost Records, skimming the tragedies unfolding across the world.

After the massacre in Liangzhou Prefecture, many Wandering Souls had appeared. Those who died in misery often became Wandering Souls, but if their lingering resentment wasn’t strong enough, they were usually devoured by other Wandering Souls, never evolving into Evil Ghosts.

Those with deep-seated obsessions, like Guan Huai, were different. In life, he had squandered his fortune seeking immortality, obsessed with living as long as the heavens. He clung to life past a hundred years but still died—yet even death couldn’t sever his fixation. He devoured hundreds of Wandering Souls and became an Evil Ghost.

Even as an Evil Ghost, he was the longest-lived in the Ghost Realm, surviving three thousand years without fading. His obsession truly ran deep.He Simu closed the Ghost Records, resting her chin on her hand as she murmured, "I really envy you all."

To know so clearly what you want, to live an entire lifetime haunted by those unfulfilled desires, and then to cast aside reincarnation and die for them for a thousand years.

Unlike her, who had been born an Evil Ghost in utter confusion.

The wind stirred with a subtle ripple, the white threads curling. He Simu frowned, walking to the window and pushing it open. Beyond the low rooftops, countless bright lanterns rose from the southern outskirts of the city, floating into the night sky until they vanished, illuminating the world as if it were a blazing inferno.

Had people died?

The southern outskirts bordered the Guan River. Could the young general's river explosion have killed so many?

He Simu flicked her sleeve, settling her physical body onto the bed. As her soul detached, the Ghost King Lamp at her waist flickered, and in an instant, she stood on the banks of the Guan River.

Her white boots with red soles pressed into the soft soil by the riverbank, and immediately, she felt tremors rising from the earth. On the frozen surface of the Guan River, deafening explosions erupted one after another, accompanied by bursts of fire. Ice particles scattered through the air, passing through her spectral form before falling to the ground. The entire world trembled in panic as dark, indistinguishable masses of soldiers—howling and wailing—plunged into the icy river with the shattering ice.

The Guan River was dark and silent, like a monstrous beast with gaping jaws endlessly devouring everything. Then, thousands of lanterns ignited with Soul Fire, rising from its depths.

Another grand spectacle of death. No doubt the Ghost Records would soon be filled with more names of Wandering Souls.

Why were the Hú Qì People crossing the river now? And just in time for Duan Xu's explosion?

He Simu turned and instantly spotted Duan Xu amidst the dark woods and scattered boulders. Han Xiaowei and Meng Wan stood behind him, along with numerous Great Liang soldiers hidden among the trees. The soldiers were arranged in arrow formations, ready to unleash volleys at any Hú Qì People who managed to struggle ashore, killing them on the riverbank.

His eyes held a faint trace of amusement, his tall and elegant figure blending into the forest like a pine tree.

Step by step, He Simu walked to Duan Xu's side, standing before him at the edge of this abyss, this border of hell.

"The Hú Qì People from Yuzhou planned to cross the Guan River and ambush the city. You laid in wait here and even carried out your plan to blow up the river. Killing two birds with one stone, young general. Did you already know the Hú Qì People would attack?" He Simu said with a smile.

Duan Xu couldn't see her spectral form now, nor could he hear her voice.

Of course, he also couldn't see the world as she saw it—the white, spider-silk-like winds, the blazing Soul Fire lighting up the sky as bright as day.

He Simu leaned closer to Duan Xu, rising slightly on her toes to gaze directly into his eyes.

His eyes were bright and upturned, their pupils a pure, deep black, like mirrors of obsidian. But those mirrors reflected neither her nor the Soul Fire lanterns—only the explosions and the bloodied enemies.

"What does death look like through the eyes of the living?"

He Simu studied his eyes as if searching for another face of death within them.

Duan Xu blinked slowly, then suddenly let out a soft laugh and said, "He Xiaoxiao."