Love Beyond the Grave

The Lotus Life Pavilion, named with the meaning of "compassion for life," greeted Duan Xu with a pool of white lotuses and a courtyard filled with their delicate fragrance as his black boots stepped onto the stone stairs. Across the water stood an eighteen-tiered wooden platform, atop which was a pavilion with bamboo curtains hanging on all sides. Within it, a figure sat faintly visible. Water, drawn from an unknown source, cascaded from the top of the pavilion, flowing along the roof tiles before arcing gracefully from the eaves into the pond below, forming a curtain of water like a divine miracle.

Commoners entering through the vermilion gates could only stand on the white stone platform on this side of the pond, gazing at the pavilion from afar to offer their prayers, unable to approach beyond the water's barrier.

After a glance at the figure behind the water and bamboo curtains, Duan Xu summoned a young attendant nearby and handed him an umbrella, saying, "Please return this to the State Preceptor and tell him Duan Shunxi has come."

With that, he turned to leave, but the child tugged at his sleeve, looking up with a muffled voice, "The Red Lotus Umbrella of the Fated One must be returned to Master personally."

The child then took hold of Duan Xu's sleeve and led him through the crowd to the edge of the lotus pond. Facing the water and bamboo curtains, the attendant performed a formal bow and announced loudly, "Master, the Fated One has arrived."

As soon as the words were spoken, accompanied by the clear chime of bells, a white bridge rose from the depths of the pond, stretching from Duan Xu's feet to the steps of the pavilion. The attendant gestured, "Fated One, please."

Duan Xu twirled the Red Lotus Umbrella in his hand a couple of times before finally stepping onto the white bridge. As he passed through the water curtain cascading from the pavilion's eaves, he opened the umbrella, its surface parting the curtain to shield him from the falling water. Thus, he traversed the veil and faced the pavilion, lifting his gaze to Hejia Fengyi behind the bamboo curtains.

Through the gaps in the green-yellow curtains, Hejia Fengyi was faintly visible, clad in resplendent gold-and-white robes, seated cross-legged on a cushion with his birch wood staff resting across his lap. The bells rang without a breeze.

The red lotus on the umbrella faded to white as it passed through the water curtain. Shaking off the droplets, Duan Xu closed the umbrella and remarked with a smile, "The Lotus Life Pavilion is truly grand. Who would have thought meeting the State Preceptor requires overcoming so many trials?"

From behind the bamboo curtains, Hejia Fengyi's voice came leisurely, "For one to face their heart truthfully, they must first shed layers of hesitation. Each barrier here washes away a lie. The outer pond bears white lotuses, while the unseen inner pond blooms red—just as the boundary of my Heart-Questioning Pavilion divides the inner and outer self. A single thought of clarity turns raging flames into a tranquil pool."

Duan Xu tapped the umbrella idly against his palm, offering no response to Hejia Fengyi's lofty philosophy, his gaze steady on the figure behind the curtains.

With a sigh, Hejia Fengyi propped his chin on his hand and said, "I hear General Duan has little faith in gods or buddhas. Your visit to my Lotus Life Pavilion must be quite the ordeal. Ziji, fetch a cushion for the general. The water curtain ensures outsiders cannot hear us—no need for restraint, General."

This sudden shift in tone stripped away his earlier mystique, transforming him from a revered State Preceptor into a casual host, his posture now relaxed. As Ziji brought over a cushion, Duan Xu sat down without hesitation. Hejia Fengyi continued, "But since she gave you the umbrella and you've come all this way, why not ask me what you wish to know? For instance, my relationship with He Simu? Or perhaps your recent fortunes?"

It was the first time the State Preceptor had deigned to offer questions to a Fated One.This fated individual wasn't too unreasonable and smiled as he picked up the conversation: "Since the State Preceptor already knows and has made preparations, please speak your mind."

Hejia Fengyi wondered which of them was actually the State Preceptor here—the way this was phrased made it sound like he was the one asking for favors. Moreover, this young man seemed to harbor some hostility toward him. Heaven knows doing a good deed these days was so difficult.

"You should know that He Simu once had four closest relatives—her parents and her aunt and uncle. I am the twentieth-generation descendant of her aunt and uncle. In private, I call her my ancestor. My parents passed away early, and she took care of me for a time during my childhood. She's practically an elder who watched me grow up."

Duan Xu seemed somewhat surprised. He raised an eyebrow and smiled genuinely: "I see."

Hejia Fengyi sensed about seventy to eighty percent of Duan Xu's hostility dissipate and immediately understood its source. He cursed inwardly but maintained his composure as he said, "Actually, the reason I asked you here today is that I've prepared a wedding gift for you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Ziji handed a brocade pouch to Duan Xu. Duan Xu opened it to find a slip of paper inside. After glancing at its contents, a look of surprise crossed his face, and his gaze shifted toward the faint silhouette behind the bamboo curtain.

"I've heard General Duan has a photographic memory, so I suppose there's no need for you to look at it again." Hejia Fengyi snapped his fingers, and the slip of paper in Duan Xu's hand instantly burned to ashes.

Duan Xu pressed his lips together, then bowed with a smile. "Thank you for your assistance, State Preceptor. Is this gift from you or..."

"Ancestor doesn't concern herself with mortal politics. This gift is from me."

"We've never had any dealings before. Why help me?"

The figure behind the bamboo curtain fell silent for a moment. Then Duan Xu heard a soft chuckle as the State Preceptor said, "I'm not helping you."

"When I was young, I was very rebellious. I had to dig to the bottom of everything, chasing answers relentlessly until I got them. During the time Ancestor took care of me, I was just as curious about her. One day, I secretly found a journal of hers."

"The earliest handwriting in that journal wasn't hers—it belonged to the previous Ghost King and his wife, her parents. The first half recorded her birth, first words, and various amusing incidents as she grew up. Then the handwriting changed midway, the tone shifting to Ancestor's own. Presumably, the previous Ghost King had given her the journal to continue writing in."

"The He Simu recorded in that journal was completely different from the one we know. That girl had many fears—she was proud yet spoiled, and exceptionally skilled at wheedling and acting spoiled. On her birthday, she pestered her living mother to pick out clothes for her. Her mother said red suited her best, so she had over a dozen red quju robes made. Even though she couldn't see colors herself, she insisted she liked them."

"The journal was thick, filled with trivial daily records—of family, friends, and lovers. Until one page read: 'Father deceased, returned to Ghost Realm.' After that, the pages were blank."

Behind the bamboo curtain, Hejia Fengyi's narration paused. The chime bells continued to ring slowly, like restless yet helpless emotions. Duan Xu clasped his hands together, then separated them."I always thought our ancestor was strange, but I couldn’t pinpoint what was unusual about her. After reading the records, I suddenly realized—her time had stagnated, frozen forever at the moment her father died three hundred years ago. She wore the clothes she once loved most, fulfilling the tasks her parents and elders had taught and hoped she would accomplish. Even when speaking to me, she would say—'Why don’t you resemble your uncle and aunt at all?' How strange. She had clearly met my father and mother, yet she traced back twenty generations to compare me to ancestors from that era."

"She felt vaguely alienated, angry, and helpless toward this ever-changing world. Like the abruptly ended records, from the moment the last line was written, she no longer sought understanding—only fear. She left the people she cherished in the past sealed within those records, and in these three hundred years, no one new has entered her life."

Duan Xu sat upright in the bright summer sunlight, the water curtain behind him cascading unevenly, refracting shimmering light. The brilliance slipped through the bamboo blinds and into Hejia Fengyi’s eyes, allowing him to see Duan Xu clearly.

This young man, nearly a decade his junior, had a focused gaze, as if possessed of an unshakable certainty, listening earnestly to his words.

Hejia Fengyi smiled. He reached out with his notebook to lift the bamboo blinds and met Duan Xu’s eyes. At that moment, he was no longer the untouchable mouthpiece of the gods but just an ordinary man speaking from the heart.

"General Duan, whether as the Curse-Bound Person or anything else, I hope you can make the stagnant time within her flow again. That is why I’m helping you."

Duan Xu looked at Hejia Fengyi, then stood and bowed deeply, speaking in the most sincere and composed tone since he had entered Liansheng Pavilion: "Thank you, State Preceptor. In that case, Shunxi has one more request."

"What is it?"

"The Ghost King possesses a Bright Pearl. It was the medium through which she and I performed the Sense Exchange. Does the State Preceptor know of it?"

Hejia Fengyi laughed. "Oh, I know it very well indeed."

"I would like to ask the State Preceptor to write a spell for me," Duan Xu said.

After Duan Xu left Liansheng Pavilion with the spell in hand, Hejia Fengyi stretched lazily, thinking how wonderful youth was. Duan Xu’s bold, relentless determination reminded him of his own younger days. As he mused, he saw Ziji walk past, neatly stacking the cushions and instructing the attendants to wipe away the water stains left by the umbrellas—intolerant of even the slightest disarray.

Hejia Fengyi sighed. When Ziji ascended the steps to bring him his daily medicinal soup, he took the bowl, swirled it, and looked up at her.

"Ziji, you don’t have to do these things," he said.

Ziji remained silent. The beautiful woman sat before him with lowered eyes, her skin as white as snow and hair like silk, yet as still as a wooden doll. Hejia Fengyi had long grown accustomed to her reticence and merely chuckled to himself. "Back then, I was young and rebellious, resentful of the world. But now I’ve let go. You should return to where you belong. What’s the point of staying? You know I won’t live long."Ziji finally raised her head to look at Hejia Fengyi, her eyes deep and dark like an unreachable night sky. She said calmly, "I know what I'm doing."

After a pause, she added briefly, "Take the medicine."

Hejia Fengyi gave a bitter laugh and downed the medicine in one gulp.

Meanwhile, Duan Xu left Liansheng Pavilion and headed straight for Yù Zǎo Tower. The information Feng Yi had provided was like timely rain after a long drought—a beacon of hope in their darkest hour.

The words on the note read: "When spring ends in May, the peonies fall."

The Emperor's most favored consort, Consort Yu, was known for her love of peonies. The Emperor had gathered rare peonies from across the land to plant in her courtyard, earning her the nickname "Peony Beauty." Her son, the Fifth Prince, basked in his mother's reflected glory and was highly favored by the Emperor, making him a strong contender for the crown prince position.

"May" and "peonies" referred to the Fifth Prince and Consort Yu—they were likely about to face misfortune. This was excellent news, as Consort Yu was the daughter of Sun Zi'an, Minister of War. Sun Zi'an was the mastermind behind the Horse Administration corruption case. If Consort Yu fell from grace, he would inevitably be implicated, making the investigation and evidence collection for the Horse Administration case much easier.