Love Beyond the Grave

Actually, He Simu had just called out Duan Xu's name on a whim, but he truly awakened at her call. His rigid body collapsed like rapidly melting glaciers. It seemed he finally began to feel the pain as he slumped weakly to the ground, breathing rapidly.

Under the flickering firelight, this wasteland resembled the legendary hell. Duan Xu kept his head lowered, obscuring his expression, only his steady yet weary voice audible: "There's still such a long way to go... but I'm already... so tired."

He finally admitted he was tired.

He Simu thought to herself, she had assumed he was someone who reveled in tormenting himself to the brink of death. So even he could feel exhaustion.

After this seemingly despondent declaration, Duan Xu suddenly raised his eyes. Those bloodstained eyes still held a glimmer of exhausted light - surprisingly bright.

He abruptly said: "You want to make a deal with me, to take my five senses, yet promise to return them periodically. But that's because you've never experienced having senses. Once you know colors, flavors, melodies, warmth and cold... could you still bear losing them again? Might there come a day when you take all my senses, leaving me barely alive - a living corpse?"

Remarkable that he could recall this bargain at such a moment.

He Simu remained silent for a beat before replying coolly: "Perhaps. Forget it, let's cancel this deal. If you don't hurry back to the city for a physician, you'll die here."

After locking gazes for several breaths, Duan Xu suddenly smiled faintly - a quiet smile utterly devoid of his usual madness. Extending his hand toward He Simu, he said in a joking tone: "Pull me up. If you help me stand... I'll agree."

He Simu arched an eyebrow, wondering what madness possessed the young general now. "Seventeen..."

"Call me Duan Xu."

She didn't understand his insistence on this false name. "Duan Xu, are you lucid?"

"Perfectly lucid. How amusing."

Duan Xu's hand hovered midair as he said slowly with a smile: "I wager... when that 'day' comes... you won't have the heart."

A firework exploded in the night sky between them with a thunderous roar. The illumination revealed Duan Xu's blood-soaked hand - crimson and fierce like burning flame, fingertips trembling imperceptibly.

Whether from excitement or fear, none could tell.

He Simu studied him at length, gazing into those clear yet bottomless eyes of this mortal.

This reckless, audacious gambler who never considered consequences.

She smiled faintly: "Very well."

Extending her own pale hand, where dark purple veins snaked beneath ashen skin, this cold and lifeless hand grasped Duan Xu's warm, bloodied one. Staining herself with his blood, she tightened her grip inch by inch.

The Bright Pearl of Curse Bond flew out, hovering above their joined hands. It drew a drop of blood from each, merging them into the spell's engraved grooves - taking immediate effect.

From this moment, their destinies were intertwined.

He Simu raised her hand and pulled Duan Xu upright. True to his word, he exerted no effort, lazily letting her drag him up like a kite, then stumbling forward to lean against her.He was taller than her, yet he bent down to bury his head in the crook of her neck, his sticky blood soaking her clothes, his forehead pressed against the cold skin of her throat.

He leaned his entire weight on her, as if entrusting his life to her.

"What are you doing?" He Simu didn’t push him away, merely asking calmly.

"Am I not normal?" Duan Xu murmured in a low voice.

He Simu knew what he meant and replied, "Getting bloodlust in battle—can that be considered abnormal?"

Killing excited Duan Xu.

It wasn’t until just now that He Simu realized it. She had seen that suppressed look in his eyes on the battlefield before—what he was suppressing was precisely this excitement.

It seemed he had experienced years of extensive killing, to the point where it had become a trigger for excitement, driving him into a state of physical and mental exhilaration that was hard to control.

Perhaps deep down, he craved slaughter.

This slaughter had once brought him pleasure.

The long years in Heaven Knows, everything he had experienced, had seeped into his very bones and blood.

Duan Xu was silent for a moment before saying to her, "Just before Fifteen died, he told me… you’re also a monster. You can’t escape."

He Simu didn’t answer. In the biting cold wind, Duan Xu’s body trembled slightly as he slowly continued, "Sometimes I don’t know if I’m a normal person pretending to be mad, or a madman pretending to be normal."

He Simu let out a soft laugh, tinged with disdain. Finally, she reached out and placed a hand on his back, patting him lightly but firmly.

"You’re leaning on the most abnormal person in the world—what kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

Duan Xu was quiet for a moment before suddenly chuckling softly. Recklessly, he wrapped his arms around He Simu’s back and said cheerfully and calmly, "You’re right."

He Simu patted his back, composed and unhurried. "Don’t push your luck. Let go of me."

"Didn’t you want to know who I am?"

Duan Xu didn’t obey and release her. Instead, he relaxed completely, as if opening a long-sealed door. Calmly, he spoke into her ear, "My name is Duan Xu. My maternal grandfather was a famous literary figure. When I was born, he was watching a play by the Chunsheng Troupe, so he named me after a line from the play—‘Feng Lang Ju Xu.’ My maternal grandmother was a princess of the previous dynasty. My family has produced three generations of Hanlin scholars. We are the Duan clan of the Southern Capital. I lived in the Southern Capital until I was seven."

Here we go again.

He Simu frowned, about to interrupt his rambling, when Duan Xu continued with a smile, "Then, when I was seven, I was kidnapped."

He Simu’s hand, which had been patting his back, stilled.

Duan Xu went on, "The Hú Qì people kidnapped me to force my father into trading intelligence with them. At the time, factional strife was at its most deadly. Not only did my father refuse the Hú Qì people, but he couldn’t even let others know he had such a weakness in Danzhi’s hands. So he told the Hú Qì people they had the wrong person—that the boy they’d taken wasn’t the third son of the Duan family, Duan Xu. The real third son had been sent back to our ancestral home in Dài Province to accompany his grandmother."

"That third son sent back to Dài Province—he was the fake Duan Xu.""The Huqi people were deceived—they thought they'd kidnapped the wrong person. I seized the chance to escape and ended up wandering the streets of Danzhi... until the leader of Heaven Knows, my master, who was out selecting disciples, picked me and took me into Heaven Knows. They never knew my origins. At fourteen, after completing my training, I blinded my master and fled back to Great Liang, reclaiming my heritage and receiving the courtesy name Shunxi. My father arranged that staged 'kidnapping' on the journey back from Dài Province to the Southern Capital, so the false Duan Xu could disappear and I could return."

"This is the real me. I am Duan Xu, Duan Shunxi. I’ve never lied to you. And this time, I’ve once again... turned calamity into fortune."

Duan Xu spoke calmly, even breaking into a playful smile at this point, like a proud child.

He Simu remained silent. Countless soul lamps rose from the camps of Danzhi, streaming against the sky like reverse meteors, while fireworks burst in brilliant succession over Shuozhou City. Joy on one side, sorrow on the other—what a grand and absurd spectacle of the mortal world.

Blood dripped from Duan Xu’s fingertips as he finally loosened his grip on He Simu’s back. But this time, it was He Simu who held onto him.

—He was sliding to the ground. If she didn’t hold him, he would collapse.

Hugging He Simu had already drained the last of Duan Xu’s strength.

He Simu sighed deeply, holding the limp figure against her. "Not just a little fox, but a little ancestor too," she murmured.

In the end, He Simu sat atop the pole of her Ghost King Lamp, with Duan Xu leaning against her shoulder as the lamp carried them toward Shuozhou City. Duan Xu’s eyes were closed, as if asleep or barely conscious. Mumbling, he asked, "Ghost King... what’s your name?"

He Simu clicked her tongue, idly stroking the Ghost King Lamp beneath the pole.

She rarely told mortals her name. Even among Evil Ghosts, only her left and right ministers dared address her directly.

But this was, after all, her Curse-Bound Person, the one who would grant her five senses.

"He Simu. The 'He' of He Simu, the 'Simu' of Simu."

Her playful explanation drew a soft chuckle from Duan Xu.

The long night was ending. Dawn broke, its gentle, mist-like light dissolving the boundless darkness.

Bathed in golden sunlight, Duan Xu parted his dry, cracked lips and slowly said, "He Simu, Happy New Year. May you have peace year after year."

He Simu paused, then smiled faintly in return. "Duan Xu, little fox, may you turn calamity into fortune and live a long life."

Her gaze fell on the Illusion-Breaking Sword at Duan Xu’s waist. The scabbard was stained with blood—whether it was Shishi’s or Duan Xu’s, she couldn’t tell.

Shishi had been killed by the Illusion-Breaking Sword, but at least his next life would be free of resentment.

She had often wondered why the Illusion-Breaking Sword had chosen Duan Xu as its master. Now, she finally understood. Duan Xu was neither a cultivator nor endowed with spiritual power. Though his fate was formidable, his talent extraordinary, and his resolve beyond ordinary measure, none of this was why the sword had chosen him.

The Illusion-Breaking Sword chose him because it wanted to save him.

This sword, which embodied mercy, killed but also delivered salvation. It had passed from Bai Qing’s hands into this young man’s grasp, recognizing him as its master because it sought to redeem him.

To redeem him, steeped in blood and weathered by life’s storms.Han Lingqiu and Meng Wan relayed Duan Xu’s strategy to Wu Shengliu. On New Year’s Eve of that year, when the fires broke out in the Danzhi army camp, they launched their attack. Leaderless and in chaos, the Danzhi forces were driven back step by step, pushed out a hundred miles by the Snow-Treading Army and forced into a full retreat from Shuozhou.

Thus, the siege of the Snow-Treading prefectural city was lifted.

The battle lasted until dawn. When Wu Shengliu and his troops returned, they saw a figure standing atop the city wall.

The young man was dressed in Huqi attire, covered in wounds and drenched in blood. Under the morning light, he grinned and waved at them before pulling a severed head from the cloth bag at his waist and hanging it above the city gates.

It was Awoerqi’s head.

Their commander had infiltrated the enemy camp, set it ablaze, and assassinated their leader—ensuring his soldiers wouldn’t have to fight to mutual destruction, securing their overwhelming victory, and allowing the civilians behind him to unknowingly celebrate a lively Spring Festival.

Wu Shengliu suddenly dismounted and knelt on the ground.

He gave no order, but following his lead, all the captains, thousand-household officers, hundred-household officers, and soldiers dismounted and knelt on one knee in succession. Under the morning light, countless suits of armor gleamed cold silver, like the surging waves of a sea.

Duan Xu’s eyes flickered.

“The Snow-Treading Army welcomes its commander!” Wu Shengliu shouted.

The soldiers behind him echoed in unison, their voices roaring like a tidal wave toward Duan Xu on the city wall. Gripping the ramparts, Duan Xu barely managed to remain standing upright. He thought ruefully that he should have taken more painkillers earlier.

Then, he let out a soft laugh.

He Simu had once asked him why he would take such a risk alone. He had said it was because this Snow-Treading Army was not yet truly his.

At this moment, the Snow-Treading Army was finally his.