Love Beyond the Grave

After the cook, Jiang Ai went out and hired a highly skilled physician at a hefty price, half-coercing and half-luring him into Jade Zhou City—to treat the boy the King had brought back.

That day, she and Yan Ke had been waiting outside the Life Gate of the Nine Palaces Maze Prison, discussing how to fabricate an explanation for the other Hall Masters if He Simu failed to emerge. Then, they saw He Simu walk out of the Life Gate with the young man in tow—and Simu’s Heart Candle was indeed burning with two flames.

Jiang Ai was utterly astonished, thinking to herself that this boy must have an incredibly tough fate.

But how could anyone enter the Nine Palaces Maze Prison and come out unscathed? After emerging, the boy had remained unconscious, delirious and drenched in cold sweat. The physician she had urgently summoned from outside said he had a persistent high fever, though there were no visible wounds on his body—the root of his illness lay in his heart.

Who knew what horrors the boy had witnessed while lost in the Nine Palaces Maze Prison?

This was troublesome. Physical ailments were easier to treat, but illnesses of the heart were far more difficult. Which Evil Ghost in this city didn’t have some psychological scars? If they couldn’t even heal themselves, how could they heal others? Even the highly skilled physician was at a loss. Jiang Ai sighed inwardly, feeling the money had been wasted.

Since the boy had suffered for the sake of rescuing her, Jiang Ai made a habit of visiting him. During this time, He Simu had suspended court assemblies and moved her official duties from the grand hall to the boy’s room. Every time Jiang Ai visited, she would see He Simu calmly reviewing documents while the boy lay pale and feverish on the sickbed, his brow tightly furrowed.

He seemed trapped in nightmares, occasionally clutching the blankets as if trying to cry out, but the sound always died in his throat, never forming coherent words. Jiang Ai listened carefully and thought it sounded like he was calling for help.

What was wrong with this handsome boy? Even his pleas for help were soundless—it was heartbreaking.

A few times, she heard him finally manage to utter something clear: "He Simu." Whenever that happened, He Simu would set aside her documents, walk to his side, and take his hand, interlacing their fingers. The boy would then relax his brow and remain calm for a long while. Occasionally, He Simu would wipe his sweat or straighten his disheveled clothes.

Once, He Simu stared at their clasped hands in contemplation before murmuring with sudden understanding, "So this is what moved him."

Jiang Ai immediately asked, intrigued, "Moved him? By what?"

"Fingers linked to the heart."

He Simu gave an answer Jiang Ai couldn’t comprehend. Realizing it wasn’t the right time to press further, Jiang Ai simply advised, "This boy is quite good-looking, and his feelings for you seem genuine. Before his Heart Candle went out, he even asked me to tell him about your past if he survived. Why not take him as your lover? I’d say many of your past encounters weren’t half as good as him."

He Simu fell silent for a long moment before letting out a deep sigh.

After ten days of recovery, Duan Xu finally awoke from the chaotic, relentless nightmares. He Simu, unaware at first, only heard him call "Simu" and went to hold his hand as usual.

To her surprise, Duan Xu blinked, his eyes—darkened by illness—widening slightly before he tightened his grip on her hand and smiled weakly. "Do I get such good treatment just because I’m sick?"He Simu only then realized that Duan Xu had regained consciousness. She let out a sigh of relief and instructed the ghost servant to fetch the physician Jiang Ai had arranged. Because he was gripping her hand so tightly, she hesitated for a moment but ultimately didn't pull away.

In the past, she had always found Duan Xu's constant smiling somewhat irritating, but now she felt it would be good just to see him smile again.

The physician said it was fortunate Duan Xu had regained consciousness and hastily prescribed several tonics to restore his health. The elderly physician, well past fifty, couldn't stop smiling, looking happier than anyone else. Rather than a doctor's compassion, it seemed more like relief at not having to worry about being devoured by these Evil Ghosts for failing to save a patient.

Duan Xu sat propped against the headboard, his face pale as he held the medicine bowl. After staring at the thick, black liquid for a long while, he turned to He Simu and said, "I truly have no strength left. Could Your Majesty condescend to feed me?"

He Simu, who had been reviewing documents in the room, looked up and motioned for the ghost servant to feed him instead. But Duan Xu refused to hand over the bowl, gazing at her as he said, "If we ever swap senses in the future, you'll understand—I particularly fear bitterness. This medicine smells extremely bitter just from its scent."

He blinked innocently. He Simu glared at him for a moment before massaging her temples and dismissing the ghost servant. She walked over, took the bowl from him, and scooped up a spoonful with an impassive expression. "Open your mouth," she said.

Duan Xu obediently opened his mouth, only to grimace tightly after she stuffed the spoonful in.

He really did seem to fear bitterness. What did bitterness taste like? Was it truly so dreadful?

He Simu thought she might ask Jiang Ai's cook to prepare some candied fruit next time. But instead, she remarked, "Afraid of tickling and bitterness—did you see yourself being chased around and force-fed medicine in that illusion?"

Duan Xu laughed, his eyes crinkling with pure mirth. Shaking his head, he replied with a lingering smile, "Do you want to know what I saw? If you do, I'll tell you."

He Simu set down the bowl and met his gaze. She knew she ought to say, I'm not interested in your past. Don't speak of it if you don't want to, and don't pry into mine either.

But she did want to know.

After struggling so long in that nightmare, what he had experienced surely went beyond what he'd told her.

So He Simu remained silent, and Duan Xu took it as assent. Leaning against the headboard, he thought for a while before speaking quietly, "I told you before that when I was at Heaven Knows, even before completing my training, I carried out tasks for the High Priest and the royal court. Those tasks gave me insight into the court's affairs and stained my hands with more blood."

"Mhm."

"Back then, the High Priest received a prophecy: within the six prefectures near the Upper Capital, a person born on the seventh day of the eighth month would commune with evil deities, oppose the Azure God, weaken the royal house, and endanger Danzhi's rule. So Heaven Knows was ordered to search for people born on that date within the prophesied region—those with unusual signs—and interrogate and execute them. We captured... several hundred people, I suppose."

Duan Xu lowered his eyes. His pale fingers interlaced, separated, then interlaced again—a habit when he was thinking. But now, he wasn't thinking; he was steeling himself to remember."There were men and women, adults and children. The High Priest believed that cruel and prolonged deaths would sever their ties with the Evil God. So some were hung upside down and slowly sawed in half from between their legs, while others had their intestines pulled out alive and coiled around wooden frames... These tortures were carried out in front of all of us at Heaven Knows, and many of those executed were people I had captured myself. When those people died, my peers would cheer to celebrate the defeat of the Evil God."

After a pause, Duan Xu let out a light laugh: "Because I was one of the top disciples in our batch, sometimes they would have me carry out the executions myself."

His words trailed off here, followed by a long silence.

"Han Lingqiu also carried out executions himself. I made him drink a potion to erase his memories—he probably won’t remember any of it for the rest of his life. That’s good. It’s better forgotten, never to be recalled." Duan Xu said quietly.

He Simu stirred the medicine in her bowl and asked, "Then why didn’t you forget?"

"If even I forget, who will remember them?" Duan Xu raised his eyes to look at He Simu and asked, "Those people died in agony. Will they become Evil Ghosts?"

"Children who are tortured to death are more likely to become Evil Ghosts because their desires for life are too strong, having barely experienced the world. For adults who are tortured to death, if they aren’t deeply attached to this world, they won’t become Evil Ghosts."

Duan Xu exhaled in relief. "That’s good. One person seeking vengeance is enough."

"Whether you were there or not, the High Priest and Heaven Knows had already decided their fate—they were doomed to die. You don’t need to carry the weight of their deaths on your shoulders."

Duan Xu fell silent for a while. His eyelashes trembled slightly, and he smiled faintly, almost imperceptibly.

"Simu, my birthday is the seventh day of the eighth month."

Most children in Heaven Knows were orphans, and few knew their own birthdays. When they entered Heaven Knows, no one bothered to ask, so within the entire organization, only he knew that he, too, fit the criteria for execution. When he captured those who shared his birthday and watched them being executed, he would always tremble with unease, wondering if the person the High Priest and Heaven Knows were searching for was actually him.

But he had no divine abilities. He didn’t even believe in gods.

Amid this doubt, he gathered strength and finally managed to escape Heaven Knows, evading pursuit all the way back to Great Liang. Yet it wasn’t until five years later, when He Simu invited him to form a Curse Bond, that he suddenly understood. The "Evil God" the High Priest had spoken of was none other than the Ghost King.

The mystery of all those years was finally solved—the person foretold in the prophecy was truly him.

All those who had died horribly before him, every single one of them, had died in his place.

Given that, he thought, whether or not gods existed in this world, and whatever their will might be, he would ensure this prophecy came true.

He Simu knew what Duan Xu was trying to say. Watching his expression as he sank into memories, she found the scene oddly familiar. So she reached out and patted his face, saying, "Wake up. The nightmare is over."

Just as he had once done for her, long ago.

Duan Xu’s eyes flickered. "Is it over?"

"It’s over. Now you’re my Curse-Bound Person. No one in this world can ever make you relive such nightmares again—I won’t allow it."He Simu let out a soft laugh. Raising the spoon with a gentle expression, she said, "Open your mouth. Time for medicine."

"..."

Duan Xu frowned, then forced a smile onto his face as he tactfully replied, "This must be part of the nightmare too."

"I said no one could make you experience nightmares. I'm a ghost—that rule doesn't apply to me." He Simu smiled brightly.

With a pained expression, Duan Xu pinched his nose and slowly drank the entire bowl of medicine.

The next day, when Jiang Ai asked He Simu if she could tell Duan Xu about her past, He Simu finally relented. The ever-curious Jiang Ai was overjoyed and immediately rushed off to chat with Duan Xu. Starting from when she attended He Simu's one-month celebration feast all the way to the death of the previous Ghost King, their joint efforts in quelling rebellions—four hundred years of history were recounted from sunrise until nightfall.

Though He Simu wasn't present, just by noting the time, she could tell Jiang Ai had spilled everything. She couldn't help feeling that human sensation of "pain" creeping back into her mind.

Several days later, when Duan Xu had recovered enough to move about freely, He Simu went to see him.

The weather was gloomy that day, typical of late spring turning to summer, as if a heavy rain was imminent. He Simu led him out through the palace's back gate to the rear slopes of Ephemeral Mountain. Facing away from Jade Zhou City and toward the human world, they could finally see black roof tiles, bustling mortals, and curling smoke from household chimneys.

On these rear slopes of Ephemeral Mountain, twenty-two graves stood in a straight line amid lush green grass. None had tombstones—only mounds—and each was planted with a different species of tree.

He Simu stopped among these graves and said to Duan Xu, "Over these four hundred years, I've had twenty-two lovers. These are their graves. Some contain remains, others only memorial items. Most never knew my true identity. The longest time I spent with any of them was twenty years, on and off."

She had buried all their shared pasts here in this ghost city facing the human world.

Pointing to the first grave where grass grew wild, He Simu said, "This was the first mortal I loved, back when my father hadn't yet turned to ashes. Wherever we traveled, he followed me. Even after learning my true nature, he never retreated. His name was..."

He Simu's voice trailed off. The wind blew her long hair and sleeves fluttering as she stood frozen in thought, frowning deeply for a long while before admitting helplessly, "I don't remember. I really liked him once, but now... I can't even recall his name."

Duan Xu's eyes flickered as he gazed steadily at He Simu. The girl who had captured his heart—this girl with an endless lifespan—wore a rust-red quju robe so faded she couldn't even discern its original color anymore. Her expression was calm yet resolute, and he already seemed to know what she was going to say next."Call me fickle or heartless, Duan Xu. I am such an Evil Ghost. My life spans centuries, and time erodes everything. One day, I won’t even remember your name, let alone the grand past behind you or the memories we share. My parents and kin lived with me for nearly a hundred years, yet even their faces grow faint in my mind now. How long could you possibly stay with me? If misfortune turns you into an Evil Ghost, I wouldn’t even like you at all. In the end, you’d just be a tiny ripple in my millennia-long existence."

Duan Xu wanted to argue, but before he could speak, He Simu said, "Would you be content with that?"

She was clever—she knew he could never say "content."

Duan Xu simply gazed deeply into her eyes, and Simu smiled, like some unshakable yet ominous omen in the storm-laden air.

"You seem to be genuinely serious about liking me, so I must seriously reject you. Little Fox Duan, you have your dreams. Your less-than-twenty years of life have been too bitter—you deserve happiness from now on. You’ll meet a girl you like even more, marry, have children, and build a loving family with people you can rely on. Heavenly Awareness was your nightmare before twenty—don’t let me become the nightmare after."