Love Beyond the Grave

With Awoerqi's death, the tide of battle shifted dramatically. He had been entangled in the succession dispute of the Danzhi Royal Court, and the thirteenth prince, who had relied heavily on his support, suddenly found himself without a backer. In desperation, the prince resorted to attempting a palace coup.

Chaos erupted in the Danzhi Royal Court. The sixth prince urgently summoned his supporter Fenglai back to Danzhi under the pretense of rescuing the emperor but in reality to seize the throne. Fenglai, already overwhelmed and making no progress on the Yuzhou battlefield with supplies and reinforcements cut off by Duan Xu, immediately concentrated his forces to break through a weak point in Liangzhou and withdrew his troops across the river.

Though Great Liang's reinforcements had already stationed in Liangzhou, neither Xia Qingsheng leading the remaining thirty thousand Snow-Treading Army nor the later-arriving troops pursued a relentless defense. As the saying goes, "Leave the enemy an escape route"—better not corner them into a fight to the death.

However, harassment along the way was unavoidable. When the Hú Qì People retreated across the river, Xia Qingsheng ambushed them, sending countless enemy soldiers to their deaths in the raging Guan River. By the time the enemy reached Shuozhou, they were intercepted again by Duan Xu's garrison, suffering heavy losses but too preoccupied to retaliate, effectively abandoning Shuozhou altogether.

This time, the reinforcements arrived just in time. At Commander Qin's order, Su Ying and two other armies crossed the river and occupied Shuozhou, securing the entire region.

A single move can affect the entire situation. What Duan Xu did on New Year's Eve of the eleventh year of Tianyuan became the turning point of the war. Though he was the greatest contributor, Duan Xu spent this period in quiet recuperation—no longer juggling countless tasks like the thousand-armed Guanyin—because his injuries were severe, and any further exertion would cost him his life.

While recovering, Duan Xu handed Shuozhou's defense to Wu Shengliu and spent his days writing letters in all directions—advising Xia Qingsheng in Liangzhou on naval tactics, submitting battle reports to Commander Qin, drafting memorials to the court, and penning letters home—as if he had transformed from a military general back into a civil official. He Simu got a firsthand look at Duan Xu's masterful rhetoric and elegant prose, skillfully absolving himself of all suspicion while subtly showcasing his literary flair with clever metaphors.

In the Ghost Realm, if any ghost dared submit such a memorial to He Simu, they would likely be sent back with orders to speak plainly—no flowery nonsense allowed.

Also recovering was the real Boss Lin—Shishi had imprisoned him instead of killing him to study his mannerisms. Wu Shengliu scoured the entire city before finally locating Lin Jun. Hanging on by a thread, Lin Jun was barely saved and regained consciousness. The moment he spoke, He Simu shuddered—his demeanor was identical to Shishi's impersonation, a passionate, patriotic young man who loathed evil. Shishi had imitated him far too well.

During this period of rest, as repayment for He Simu's assistance in guiding the winds, Duan Xu gladly accepted Chen Ying as his sworn younger brother, promising to take him back to the Duan residence to raise and care for him. Chen Ying was reluctant to part for a long time, but He Simu gently reminded him that she wasn't leaving yet—he'd still see her often, so his reluctance was a bit premature.This time, Duan Xu was covered in wounds and couldn’t possibly change his own bandages. Normally, this task would fall to either the military doctor or Meng Wan, but now it had landed in He Simu’s hands—before passing out, Duan Xu had clutched the hem of "He Xiaoxiao’s" robe and given her a meaningful look. Recalling Duan Xu’s old scars and the wound on his waist, He Simu thought to herself that this young general was nothing but trouble. Still, she played her part, weeping loudly to express her grief and taking over the bandaging duties to keep up the act.

He Simu figured that, after all, this was her Curse-Bound Person, and considering he had already lost half his life, she temporarily refrained from taking his senses.

But he’d better recover quickly and fulfill his end of the bargain.

“Tsk…” Duan Xu let out a faint hiss of pain. He frowned at He Simu, but within moments, he couldn’t help but smile. “Your hands are really rough—no sense of touch, indeed.”

He Simu arched an eyebrow at this guy who laughed the more it hurt and loosened the bandage in her hand. “Should I call Colonel Meng in to take over? You can explain to her how you got all these old scars.”

“Having Your Highness tend to my wounds is an honor.”

Duan Xu’s reply was smooth and effortless, delivered with a bright smile.

In the dim light of dawn, his upper body was bare, revealing pale skin crisscrossed with wounds. Fortunately, aside from the stab wound Shishi had given him below the ribs, none of the others were too deep. He let He Simu wrap the bandages around his arms and waist without protest.

After securing the bandage with a knot, He Simu patted Duan Xu’s shoulder and said, “Take off your pants.”

“……” Duan Xu turned to look at her, his expression one of rare astonishment, as if unsure he had heard correctly.

She continued matter-of-factly, “I remember you had a wound near your thigh.”

Duan Xu pressed down on He Simu’s hand, which was already at the waistband of his pants, and said seriously, “It’s not deep. I think we can skip that.”

“Why skip it?” He Simu raised an eyebrow. “I grew up dissecting corpses with my father and Doctor Fu—there’s no type of naked body I haven’t seen. Besides, I’m a ghost. It’s not like I’ve never possessed a man before. What are you so shy about?”

Duan Xu declined with a smile. “It’s inappropriate. I still have some dignity to uphold.”

He Simu narrowed her eyes slightly, and in an instant, Duan Xu’s hands were bound behind his back by an invisible force. He fell straight onto the bed with a muffled thud. Blinking, Duan Xu said, “That hurts, Your Highness. I’m still a wounded man.”

He Simu leaned down and stroked his cheek. Because she was appearing as “He Xiaoxiao,” her fingers were warm now, and she at least tempered her strength as they brushed over the cut on his face. “You asked me to bandage you, yet you’re being picky. Did you think you could order me around as you please, little general?”

Duan Xu chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he replied calmly, “I’m not being picky—I’m begging you. Your Highness, spare me some dignity. You can’t treat me like this.”

Just as He Simu’s smile turned dangerous, the door suddenly swung open. A familiar male voice rang out.

“General, Commander Qin—” Han Lingqiu froze at the sight of Duan Xu lying on the bed with his hair splayed across the pillow and He Xiaoxiao leaning over him, stroking his face. For a moment, he forgot what he had been about to say, wondering if he should pretend he hadn’t seen anything, turn around, and close the door.Before he could act on his thoughts, Duan Xu's eyes lit up as if granted a great reprieve. He rose from the bed and said, "Han Xiaowei, speak quickly."

He Xiaoxiao gracefully moved aside from Duan Xu, crossing her legs as she sat at the head of the bed and picked up a cup of tea to sip.

Han Lingqiu steeled himself and continued, "General, we've just received word. Commander Qin will arrive in the prefectural city in two days."

Duan Xu chuckled softly and said leisurely, "Commander Qin in person... It seems Shuozhou alone isn't enough. This war isn't over yet. As I'm currently unwell, have Wu Lang Jiang extend proper hospitality to Commander Qin—for matters of etiquette, consult Meng Wan."

Han Lingqiu acknowledged the order and turned to leave, but Duan Xu called him back. Though pale from blood loss due to his injuries, Duan Xu's gaze was intense. "Han Xiaowei, is there truly nothing else you wish to ask me?"

After a moment of silence, Han Lingqiu clasped his fists in salute and replied, "Not at this time."

On the night Duan Xu had entrusted him with the New Year's Eve martial contest, Duan Xu had said he knew Han Lingqiu harbored many questions and promised to answer them once Shuozhou was relieved of siege. He vowed to hold nothing back in his responses.

Han Lingqiu had long prepared his question. But on the martial platform that day, when the fake Lin Jun had uttered the words, "You are my seventeenth junior brother," Han Lingqiu had glimpsed the outline of his past. A sudden fear gripped him—those memories might overturn his current life.

He hadn't been fixated on his past before. It was Duan Xu's appearance that had sparked his curiosity—less about his own history and more about Duan Xu himself.

Yet on New Year's Day, standing beneath the city wall and looking up at Duan Xu—covered in wounds, swaying unsteadily, yet grinning with genuine joy—Han Lingqiu abruptly felt that who Duan Xu was might not matter so much after all.

Though Duan Xu was shrouded in mysteries, one thing was certain: he was a fine general of Great Liang. Perhaps that was enough.

And Han Lingqiu was a captain of Great Liang's Snow-Treading Army. As long as he was clear about that, it sufficed.

Watching Han Lingqiu exit and thoughtfully close the door behind him, He Simu chuckled softly, her gaze shifting leisurely to Duan Xu.

Before she could voice her question, Duan Xu anticipated it and answered, "Han Lingqiu... he was once my batchmate."

Too injured to lean on anything, he propped himself up with his hands against the bed, tilting slightly backward into a comfortable storytelling pose.

"Each batch of Heavenly Awareness disciples numbers a hundred. The test is slaughter. Over seven years, ninety-nine die, leaving one, who is then granted a numbered title upon graduation."

—He made me start killing at seven. By fourteen, I'd killed all my batchmates.

He Simu recalled Duan Xu's words during his frenzied rampage in Danzhi's camp, his eyes ablaze with a mix of exhilaration and torment, edged with madness. Now, that madness had receded from his gaze, leaving behind a calm detachment as if discussing an ordinary memory. After a brief silence, he smiled.

"Han Lingqiu was quiet and reserved back then—though most of us were like that. I was the odd one out. We barely spoke; the most interaction we had was during the Nether Trial, locked in a life-or-death duel. He must have been desperate. Ninety-eight had died, leaving just the two of us. But our master favored me, and I was stronger. In the end, he too would have died by my hand—just a matter of time, like the other ninety-eight."Duan Xu tapped his forehead and said, "That long scar on his face was made by me."

"While killing him?" He Simu asked.

"No, while saving him."

The answer was somewhat unexpected.

Duan Xu laughed, tilting his head as he said, "In the Nether Trial, I was supposed to kill him, but I used a trick to make it seem like he was dead while still clinging to life. Then I fed him a potion to erase his memory, slashed his face, and swapped him with a corpse bearing the same wound before smuggling him out."

He Simu chuckled lightly. "Weren’t you two strangers? Since when were you so kind-hearted?"

"Why can’t I be that kind-hearted, Ghost King? Do you know me?"

Duan Xu joked as usual, but his gaze suddenly turned somewhat lost, as if he had been caught off guard by his own words.

Was there truly anyone in this world who understood him?

Beneath his thousand-layered masks, how much sincerity remained? No one could trust it.

"Would you like to hear my story?" Duan Xu suddenly said lightly, though his eyes were serious. "Since Han Lingqiu didn’t ask, I’ll give this chance to you. From now on, I’ll answer every question you ask truthfully."

He Simu set down her teacup. "Last time, when I had my hand around your throat ready to kill you, you wouldn’t say a word. Why are you willing now?"

"If you’re choking me to death, of course I wouldn’t speak. But when I reached out to you, and you took my hand—that’s when I could."

Duan Xu’s tone was playful, his eyes relaxed.

Yet He Simu remembered the blood-soaked boy sitting on the ground back then, his outstretched hand like a fragile crabapple blossom on the verge of scattering in the wind. If she hadn’t caught him, he might have fallen.

Even in the most perilous moment, he hadn’t begged for her help—yet all it took was her grasp to seal their deal.

She had merely held his hand, palm against palm.

What was this boy truly seeking?

He Simu asked, "After all you’ve done in Liangzhou and here—is it revenge against Heaven Knows you’re after?"