Love Beyond the Grave

After nightfall, the grand wedding that had stirred up the Southern Capital finally settled into silence. The guests had all left the Duan residence, and the Imperial Guard Commander had specially dispatched a group of imperial guards to patrol the area around the mansion while conducting searches throughout the Southern Capital.

Duan Xu knew they would never find his "bride."

This was just as well.

The streets were still lined with red paper lanterns, their festive glow as jarringly incongruous as the decorated Duan residence—like a clown with smeared makeup still grinning foolishly. Duan Xu, still clad in his wedding attire, stepped into his personal quarters within the estate—Bright Moon Residence. The place was plastered with "double happiness" characters, and several dowry chests sent by the Wang family sat in the courtyard, already opened.

A young woman wearing a veiled hat with beaded tassels sat perched on one of the chests, one leg casually crossed over the other amidst the sea of celebratory red. A full moon hung high in the sky behind her, its silvery light mingling with the lantern glow upon her figure, as if she were some enchanting specter from an opera ballad.

Enchanting she was—and a specter indeed.

When He Simu met Duan Xu's gaze, she smiled and said, "Your wife's dowry is quite substantial. It would be a shame to return it to her family."

"I'm not returning it."

"You're not?"

"I've sworn to take her as my wife. Officially, this dowry is rightfully mine. Privately, Su Yi will need this dowry for her future life outside."

Duan Xu spoke with unwavering confidence.

He Simu hopped down from the chest, folded her arms, and walked up to Duan Xu, her crimson skirts whispering against the ground. Clad in layered rust-red robes, she and the groom-attired Duan Xu stood amidst the lanterns and "double happiness" decorations like a genuine newlywed couple.

He Simu studied Duan Xu's eyes, while he looked down at her, his dark gaze shimmering with intensity. She realized she had many questions for him—about his collaboration with Hejia Fengyi, the farce he had orchestrated, and the deeper meaning behind inviting her here. It seemed that from the day they'd met, she had been brimming with questions about him.

Did she ever have this many questions about anyone else?

It seemed not.

After a moment of silent exchange, He Simu suddenly chuckled and shook her head. "Little Fox Duan, what if I hadn't come to find you today? You lost this bet—what will you wager next time?"

Those questions no longer needed asking. She already knew the answers.

Back in Jade Zhou City, she had painted him a beautiful future far removed from her—like handing him an exquisite glass lantern, telling him to carry its light and live the life everyone desired, the happiness he deserved.

And then he had promptly shattered that lantern with a careless toss, grinning at her as if to say, "So what?"

What other excuses do you have? Whatever you give, I'll destroy it.

Would you really let me?

Just as he had said on the day they formed their contract—he was betting she wouldn't.

Duan Xu also smiled. "If I lose the bet, then I lose. I'll think of another wager next time. What matters is that you came to me."

He appeared calm and nonchalant, but beneath his sleeves, his hands trembled uncontrollably from tension.

"I came to deliver a wedding gift. I've never attended a wedding before and didn't know what to give. It troubled me for a long time. In the end, I figured I might as well ask you directly—what is it you want? What would make you happy?"He Simu spoke calmly, appearing as composed and effortless as ever. In Duan Xu's eyes, she resembled a black tourmaline bead amidst the interplay of light and shadow—beautiful, profound, and devoid of warmth.

Duan Xu pressed his lips together. He reached out, his index finger pausing on the lapel of her robe. Through his fingertip, he could feel the pulse of her heartbeat—a sensation she had borrowed from his perception of color.

"I want you."

He Simu gazed at him quietly.

After a pause, Duan Xu let out a low chuckle, as if joking. "I wonder if I have the honor of becoming the twenty-third grave on the back slopes of your Ephemeral Mountain?"

His tone was light, but his voice was dry with tension.

He Simu grasped the finger resting on her lapel and asked, "Are you content with that?"

She had posed this same question to him on Ephemeral Mountain before, and back then, he had given no answer.

This time, Duan Xu's eyes were clear and transparent. Amidst the dazzling array of colors, he smiled with a mix of resignation and helplessness. "No, I'm not content. No matter how much I think about it, I still can't accept it."

"But after turning it over and over in my mind—even though I'm not content, I'm willing."

He Simu lowered her gaze briefly before raising it again, interlacing her fingers with his slightly trembling hand. After a silence that felt like the passing of ages, she finally spoke.

"Very well. I accept."

Duan Xu froze for a moment.

He Simu smiled, stepping closer to him and rising onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. She repeated, "I accept."

"I said I accept, so why are you still so tense? Your fingers are stiff—relax and breathe properly. Truly worthy of being called Duan the Fox, daring to ask the Ghost King for a gift. I—"

Before she could finish, she was abruptly pulled forward. Duan Xu gripped her hand and drew her into his embrace, cradling the back of her head as he lowered his lips to hers. It was a desperate kiss, like parched earth finally meeting rain, pouring in all his restlessness, unease, joy, fear, and love. He closed his eyes and held her tightly, deepening the kiss as if their very bones and blood could merge through this act.

He had gambled for too long, losing time and again, pretending to be unshaken even when left empty-handed and red-eyed, pretending he could always start anew. In truth, he had long run out of room to retreat.

Nor had he left himself any room—each time, he had given his all.

He Simu's wrist twisted in his grasp, and for a moment, he thought she would push him away, causing his eyes to snap open in unease.

In his line of sight were He Simu's eyes—beautiful, smiling phoenix eyes reflecting his own turmoil. Her pale, slender hand rose—then settled on his shoulder, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer.

She rose onto her toes to deepen the kiss, pressing her body flush against his, offering her lips and tongue as she closed her eyes.

No need for unease. No need for sorrow.

If the Ghost King promised to give herself to you, she would do so. If you refused to retreat even a step, neither would she.

If you held her tight, she would kiss you.

If you loved her for a lifetime, then for that lifetime, her eyes would hold no one but you.

Duan Xu's chest rose and fell rapidly as his kisses trailed upward from her lips to her eyes, then to her forehead.

He Simu clung to his neck, tilting her head up to look at him. "It's a bit tiring to stay on my toes like this."

Duan Xu chuckled softly, teasing, "Shall we go to the room? After all... this is my wedding night."He Simu's gaze slowly traveled down his face. She reached out, hooking and releasing his red hair ribbon, then caressed the wedding robe embroidered with the Four Harmonies Auspicious Pattern at his collar. Raising her eyes to meet his, she said softly, "Alright."

Duan Xu paused, carefully deciphering the meaning behind her words. Between breaths, he whispered, "You mean..."

He Simu answered with a peck on his lips, the reply evident without words.

Duan Xu's breath hitched. He swept He Simu into his arms, and she laughed, looping her arms around his neck as she nestled against his chest. Carrying her toward the room, he kicked the door open before turning to shut it—pinning her against the door as he kissed her. Between kisses, he murmured, "Simu, I still have one more spell..."

"...Feng Yi is truly... generous."

"Take away my sense of touch too, Simu."

He Simu opened her eyes to see Duan Xu pull out a piece of Ochre Paper inscribed with runes from his robe. Amid the overwhelming sea of red in the room, his smile was dazzlingly radiant. "I'll have many more chances in the future," he said, "so many more. But this time, I want you to feel me."

I want you to remember me.

He Simu glanced at the spell in his hand, tilting her head with a smile. "Very well, as you wish."

The spell crumbled to ashes in Duan Xu's grasp.

In that instant, He Simu felt the scorching heat of the body pressed tightly against hers—the smooth silk of the wedding robe, the softness of his skin. His gaze locked onto hers as he suddenly lifted her hand, kissing her fingertips one by one.

He traced delicate kisses from the pads of her fingers to their roots, from thumb to pinky, until finally, with a soft chuckle, he took her middle finger into his mouth—the finger linked to the heart's fire.

He Simu began to tremble faintly. This strange, wet sensation threw her off balance, as though her limbs no longer belonged to her. What coursed through her veins wasn’t blood—perhaps it was molten lava.

Duan Xu lifted her and laid her atop the wedding quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks, kissing her deeply once more. This time, the sensation was entirely different—a sticky, lingering heat, tangled and fervent, transferring from his body to hers like a wildfire, burning her until even her fingers felt restless.

Her hands clutched tightly at Duan Xu’s back as she murmured dazedly, "What... is this?"

Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, "This is desire, Simu... my princess."

Your desire.

"You want me," he murmured, his breath brushing temptingly over her face. Between kisses, he added, "Just as I want you."

He Simu opened her eyes to see her beloved’s gaze tinged with red. His entire body seemed aflame, his expression hazy yet intoxicating. He looked dazed, his eyes glazed as they had been in the bloodshed of battle, yet still reflecting her deeply.

Noticing her gaze, he took her hand and kissed her palm.

"It feels like a dream... Simu..." he murmured. "I’ve never had a dream this wonderful."

He Simu’s lashes fluttered. She lifted her head to kiss him, deeply and fervently, sighing, "In this lifetime, you’ll have hundreds more dreams like this."

His heartbeat was rapid—frantic and thunderous—utterly unlike the steady rhythm she had first sensed.At this moment, this heart was hers, beating solely for her.

She held her favorite skull in the world, kissed her favorite eyes, and whispered by his ear, "Duan Xu, I'm real. I won't leave. Be gentle."

The young man held her tightly, greedily inhaling her scent, his pale fingers tangling in her disheveled black hair.

"Simu…" Duan Xu murmured softly.

This heart is not mine—it longs for you.

Take it as you will, and never return it.

When Duan Xu awoke, the night breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains, and the moonlight lay quiet. The wild memories of earlier flashed before his eyes, and his body tensed as he feared it had all been a dream—until he saw the girl resting on his chest and relaxed.

As always when she fell asleep, she sought something to cling to. Now, she held his waist tightly, her face buried in his chest, revealing only her slender neck and the marks left by kisses.

Duan Xu wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gently stroking her neck. She shrugged and buried her face deeper.

He had been impatient, and without the sense of touch, he hadn’t known his own strength, hurting her. But deep down, he wanted it to hurt—so she would remember him more vividly, so she wouldn’t forget him so easily.

Brushing aside the long hair that veiled her face, he noticed what seemed like dark, blood-like streaks. His heart skipped a beat as he reached to wipe them away, but there were no wounds. Then he remembered—she had bitten him. That was his blood.

Perhaps he had pushed her too far, or perhaps the intensity of desire had overwhelmed her. She had sunk her teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood.

And when she tasted blood, she only grew more excited, her grip unrelenting.

Duan Xu chuckled softly, sighing as he tousled her hair, turning the silken strands into a mess.

Evil Ghosts were born of desire, forever tormented by hunger, feeding on humans to ease their suffering.

He Simu was also an Evil Ghost. She had been born as one, yet she didn’t even know what her own desires truly were. Jiang Ai once said that sometimes, it felt like He Simu envied them—because every other Evil Ghost in this world had a clear purpose, knowing why they lived and why they died.

Even if those obsessions were often twisted, at least they knew.

He Simu didn’t. Her path was shrouded in mist.

Duan Xu kissed her forehead and gently patted her back. If her hunger stemmed from never truly living in this world, if her greed was simply to experience it—then he would do his best to fulfill that for her.

"Bite me if you like. If you want my senses, I’ll give them to you."

May my flesh and blood sustain you, spare you from hunger, and warm you against the cold.