Love Beyond the Grave

The walls of Liangzhou's prefectural city stood tall and solid, like silent giants. Yet even such giants had failed to withstand the first assault of the Huqi people, much less protect the city's inhabitants.

From atop the battlements, one could see the broad expanse of the Guan River in the distance. On clear days, even the distant shores of Danzhi Shuo Prefecture were faintly visible.

The soldiers guarding the walls saluted Duan Xu as he approached, addressing him as "General." Han Lingqiu, the Han Xiaowei in charge of the city's defenses, also hurried over. He was a lean, towering young man with a terrifying scar running from his jaw to his temple, giving him a somewhat fearsome appearance. With a solemn expression, he clasped his fists and said, "General Duan."

Duan Xu nodded, instructing Meng Wan to accompany Han Lingqiu in inspecting the defensive arrangements. Then he turned his attention to the girl holding a sugar figurine.

She walked naturally to the crenel, gazing at the distant Guan River while occasionally licking her treat.

Unlike the sheltered streets below, the winter winds atop the walls were swift and biting. Her long hair whipped wildly in the gusts, and her cape billowed like a blossoming peach blossom in pale pink silk.

One of her hands rested on the cold bricks of the wall—bricks that should have felt like knives in winter. Her fingertips were pale, her knuckles and the tip of her nose flushed red from the cold. Yet she made no move to adjust her cape or huddle against the chill.

Anyone who could feel the cold surely wouldn’t have endured it so indifferently.

He Simu suddenly turned her head and remarked, "The winds atop the walls truly stretch endlessly. Like white spider silk, sparse and dense, filling the heavens and earth—unseen in origin, unknown in destination."

A peculiar metaphor—wind like spider silk.

Following her gesture, Duan Xu observed the icy gales and said, "White wind, like the color of my sleeves?"

"Yes." He Simu smiled, but then abruptly asked, "General, do you have a wish?"

"A wish?"

"Yes, a wish."

Duan Xu smiled faintly and answered candidly, "My lifelong wish is for the seventeen prefectures north of the Guan River to return to Great Liang."

"..."

He Simu's expression remained unchanged, though inwardly she dismissed this as lofty, empty rhetoric—less convincing than even Guan Huai’s flattery.

Noticing her silence, Duan Xu asked, "What is it?"

With a sorrowful look, He Simu claimed she feared bloodshed—the thought of reclaiming those lands and the rivers of blood it would cost terrified her. After a pause, she suddenly leaned closer. Duan Xu, still smiling, subtly retreated half a step, waiting for her next words.

"Having traveled the jianghu, I’ve studied skulls extensively," He Simu said, pointing vaguely at Duan Xu’s head. "General, you have an excellent skull—rounded at the back, high at the crown, full at the forehead, with prominent brow ridges and deep-set eyes. And double eyelids."

Duan Xu raised an eyebrow. This sounded less like praise and more like a butcher appraising livestock.

"Authentic Han skulls don’t look like this. My father once told me that centuries ago, far north of Danzhi, there was a people called the Di clan. Their skulls were like yours. Back then, the Di and the Han fought for years, locked in a blood feud. But now, the Di no longer exist. They’ve blended into Han bloodlines—into your ancestors’ veins."Now the Huqi and the Han people are mortal enemies, but in the end, their bloodlines will merge, becoming fathers and sons, brothers and kin a hundred years later.

Most things in this world are like this. Those who once hated each other to the core may become as close as flesh and blood in the blink of an eye, while those who loved deeply may suddenly find themselves estranged. Relationships shift constantly, and nothing lasts forever.

Life-and-death struggles or the lofty ambition to reclaim lost lands will all turn to smoke and clouds. How dull the world is—why take it so seriously?

Duan Xu gazed at He Simu for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter. He leaned against the city wall, bending over as his shoulders shook with mirth.

He Simu looked at him in bewilderment, finding nothing particularly amusing about the topic. This young man was laughing like a fool.

In truth, her judgment was unfair—Duan Xu was quite handsome when he laughed. His bright eyes crinkled slightly, brimming with overflowing joy, revealing a row of white teeth.

"My apologies, Miss He. I just have a natural tendency to laugh easily—it's not a comment on your words." Duan Xu straightened up, suppressing his laughter. "I just remembered how, as a child, I loved building sandcastles by the sea. No matter how well I built them, the rising tide would always wash them away. If I'd had your perspective back then, I wouldn't have been so heartbroken. After all, the sandcastles didn't truly disappear—they just returned to the sand."

"You might be like me, and I might be like the sandcastle."

He tilted his head, smiling warmly at He Simu. "Before my life, I was sand; after my death, I'll be sand. Only for a moment was I a castle, and that's all I need to live for."

What happened a hundred years ago, what will happen a hundred years from now—even if there's reincarnation and he lives again, that wouldn't be him anymore.

He Simu studied Duan Xu for a moment. He stood bathed in sunlight, the wind wrapping around him like dense spider silk, as if he were a butterfly in a cocoon.

She sighed inwardly—mortals, with their mere hundred-year lifespans, could never truly see through love and hate. Yet outwardly, she put on an admiring expression and clapped in praise.

Duan Xu's gaze fell on the sugar figurine in her hand. "I meant to ask earlier—is that figurine supposed to be..."

"Shen Tu. Chen Ying has Yu Lei's—the two door gods." He Simu waved the half-licked figurine missing a shoulder. "A while back, we ran into ghosts in the middle of the night, and Chen Ying's been terrified ever since. Today, I got some extra malt sugar from Captain Meng, so I made these two door gods. They say Evil Ghosts are afraid of them—helps ward off evil."

As she spoke, she took a bite, devouring half of Shen Tu's head.

Duan Xu couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. Then He Simu held out the figurine to him. "Want a taste?"

The amber-colored sugar figurine sparkled like a gem in the sunlight. Through its gaps, he could see her bright, unrestrained smile.

Duan Xu reached out, breaking off the untouched left foot and popping it into his mouth. He frowned slightly, then smiled. "Miss He, it's too sweet."

He Simu leaned closer, teasing him. "General, what's so sweet?"

The girl before him had cheeks flushed from the cold, but her smile was warm and sweet.

The young man's eyes flickered, but his expression remained calm. "The sugar figurine."

"Sweet?"

"Overwhelmingly so.""Everyone has different tastes. It's just that I have a sweet tooth." He Simu took another bite of the sugar figurine, then suddenly said while gazing at the distant frozen Guan River: "Four days from now, on the eighth day of the eleventh month, at the hour of Hai (9-11 PM), there will be an east wind carrying snow."

Duan Xu understood immediately and bowed in gratitude, only to hear her voice whisper by his ear:

"Do you really have to go?"

When Duan Xu looked up, he saw the girl staring straight into his eyes, her gaze revealing a hint of pity.

"Captain Meng told me you weren't originally the general of Treading White—you were appointed in a crisis. With your distinguished background, some maneuvering should be enough to get you recalled to the capital."

Duan Xu sighed. "Why does everyone say this? You make me feel like a mantis trying to stop a chariot—how utterly tragic. Don't worry, miss. When I was a child, a fortune-teller told me I'd always find luck in misfortune."

He Simu thought to herself: This man went from a palace official, to a candidate for chief councilor, to an imperial guard, to a frontier commander, and now to a general facing life-and-death battles—he's certainly encountered plenty of misfortune, but where's the luck?

"If this isn't a mantis trying to stop a chariot, then what is?"

Duan Xu paused briefly before replying with an easy smile: "It's 'though ten thousand stand against me, still I march forth.'"

He Simu could only nod and finish the last bite of her sugar figurine.

Well, he wasn't wrong. Without an exceptionally strong fate, how could one wield the Illusion-Breaking Sword?

Don't die on me, little general. Surely the master of the Illusion-Breaking Sword is destined for more than this?

Duan Xu escorted He Simu all the way back to her courtyard. From afar, they could see Chen Ying sitting obediently by the doorway, hugging his knees and looking around. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up as he ran over.

The boy had become even more clingy since their encounter with the Evil Ghosts.

After bidding farewell to Duan Xu, He Simu led Chen Ying into the courtyard and asked casually, "Finished your sugar figurine? What would you like next time?"

"Another sugar figurine! Big Sister's figurine was so pretty this time, but it was too bland—hardly any sweetness at all." Chen Ying, who had grown plumper recently, swung He Simu's hand playfully.

He Simu's steps faltered. She looked down at Chen Ying. "Hardly any sweetness?"

Coming from a poor family, Chen Ying had rarely tasted sweets growing up and was utterly honest. If he said it wasn't sweet, it truly wasn't.

Earlier, Duan Xu had claimed the sugar figurine was overly sweet—had that just been a joke?

A thought struck her. She crouched down and asked Chen Ying, "The young general who escorted me back today—what color were his sleeves?"

Chen Ying thought for a moment, then pointed skyward. "Blue! Like the sky."

"—White wind, like the color of my sleeves?"

He Simu fell silent for a moment before playing with the jade pendant at her waist, her expression amused.

Well played, little general. Testing me, was it? I let my guard down.

His intuition was clearly far sharper than Meng Wan's—he'd actually figured it out. That little fox.

After sending Chen Ying off to play and watching him disappear from view, He Simu took out the Bright Pearl from her sleeve and called, "Feng Yi."

After a moment, a voice came from the pearl: "What is it now, Ancestor?"

"I remember you once said Duan Xu lived in the Southern Capital until he was seven, then was sent back to his grandmother in Dài Province. He didn't return to the Southern Capital until he was fourteen."

"That's correct.""The Southern Capital has no sea, and Dài Province is even further away from the ocean. He probably has never seen the sea—where did he build sandcastles by the shore as a child?" He Simu tossed the Bright Pearl in her hand and mused, "This guy is quite suspicious. Look into him thoroughly for me."

Duan Xu left the entrance of He Xiaoxiao's courtyard, strolling back with a leisurely smile. As he neared the governor's mansion, several children were playing kickball in the street. One miskicked, sending the rattan ball flying straight toward him. Before the children's startled cries could fully form, he swiftly sidestepped and raised his hand, catching the ball firmly in his grasp.

A little boy ran up to him. Duan Xu handed the ball back, and the child tilted his head up, curiosity written all over his face. "Big brother, why are you smiling so happily?"

Duan Xu crouched down, grinning as he patted the boy's head. "I met a very interesting friend today."

"Someone who can see the wind but likely can't distinguish colors, feel warmth or cold, or taste flavors."

The boy looked bewildered. "What a strange person! Isn’t that scary?"

"Scary? Why scary?" Duan Xu tilted his head, his smile widening. "It's fascinating."

The boy shivered. Now he thought this big brother was a bit scary too.

"General!"

Duan Xu glanced up to see Xia Qingsheng approaching with a squad of soldiers. He stood, and Xia Qingsheng saluted with a fist-over-palm gesture, his expression troubled. "General, this isn’t the Southern Capital. You shouldn’t always move around alone..."

Duan Xu patted Xia Qingsheng’s shoulder, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and simply asked, "Has Wu Lang Jiang arrived?"

"He’s waiting inside."

"Good. Let’s go in."