Love Beyond the Grave

The incident of Han Lingqiu being detained was actually quite simple—in summary, he was just an unlucky fellow.

Before Shishi died, he had mistaken Han Lingqiu for Seventeen and likely sent a message to Heaven Knows. As a result, the misled Heaven Knows began pursuing Han Lingqiu. Han Lingqiu was in Great Liang, serving as a military commander, and with his exceptional martial skills, he wasn’t an easy target under normal circumstances.

After several failed attempts, Heaven Knows took advantage of the situation when the leader of the Jingzhou rebel forces sought to surrender to Danzhi. They demanded that he lure Han Lingqiu into a trap. For Han Lingqiu, this was truly an undeserved calamity.

The "Seventeen" Heaven Knows wanted to capture was clearly Duan Xu.

When the real "Seventeen" blinded his master and fled, he had thought that would be the end of his ties with Heaven Knows. Later, when he killed Shishi beneath the walls of Shuozhou Prefecture, he again believed it might be the final chapter. Yet, neither of those moments marked the true conclusion. Perhaps the past had never truly passed, resurfacing again and again to demand an ending from him.

Duan Xu couldn’t help but sigh deeply.

By the time he infiltrated Jingzhou Prefecture, the night was already deep. First, he blended in with the guards to enter Tang Dequan’s residence, then broke away from the group to move swiftly across the rooftops. His steps on the tiles were as silent as if he were treading on cotton, and within half an hour, he had mapped out the layout of Tang Dequan’s estate.

This residence originally belonged to the Danzhi governor of Jingzhou. Though Danzhi superficially adopted the Han people’s rule of law, bloodlines and personal connections often overrode legal principles. Thus, Huqi officials frequently maintained private prisons, where lives were treated as worthless.

Otherwise, how could Heaven Knows have operated for so many years without the Danzhi Censorate ever questioning this utterly lawless organization?

From Duan Xu’s experience, this estate undoubtedly had a private prison as well. If Tang Dequan intended to detain Han Lingqiu, he wouldn’t keep him too far away—most likely in the estate’s private prison.

Danzhi had its own theories regarding geomancy, with specific construction requirements for places like private prisons. Duan Xu quickly located the prison. Crouched on a beam in the corridor, he observed the patrol patterns of the guards when he spotted two figures in black capes emerging from the gray stone gate, conversing softly.

A gust of wind lifted their capes, revealing their appearances. One wore a pristine white-and-gold Priest Robe beneath the cape, spotless and starkly out of place in the dark prison. The other was clad in black, his features sharp and gaze piercing—a perfect match for the prison’s grim atmosphere.

Danzhi’s High Priest Luda, and Fourteen of Heaven Knows.

So, it was Fourteenth Brother from Heaven Knows this time—truly a veteran. Fourteen was of the Huqi People. Duan Xu had only crossed paths with him a few times, but by chance, he once saw Fourteen unmasked after completing a mission, thus recognizing his true face.

Before Duan Xu, Fourteen had been the most renowned and trusted disciple under their master. After Duan Xu left, Heaven Knows seemed to halt new admissions for several years—likely because no other madman like him could steal Fourteen’s spotlight.Duan Xu watched as Luda and Fourteen disappeared into the distance. Spotting a soldier approaching with a food box in the distance, he leaped down lightly. At a corner, he suddenly grabbed the soldier by the neck and drove a thin needle deep into his throat, simultaneously catching the food box with steady hands. The soldier convulsed once before collapsing silently. Duan Xu swiftly dragged him into the shadows, exchanged clothes with him, then emerged onto the corridor and headed toward the prison.

After passing the verbal challenge, the heavy stone door creaked open clumsily. Carrying the food box, Duan Xu descended the steps. Before he had gone far, the stench of blood and dampness assaulted his senses. Moonlight streamed through narrow windows into the cells, while torches spaced at intervals illuminated the prison.

Duan Xu stopped before one of the cells. Inside the dimly lit cell, Han Lingqiu hung with his arms shackled to the wall, his body a mess of torn flesh, red and white intermingled like a heavy rag. Iron chains pierced through his collarbones, locking him in place. His head hung low, his disheveled hair obscuring whether he was conscious or not.

Setting down the food box, Duan Xu glanced around and used the keys taken from the soldier to unlock the cell door. The manacles, fetters, and collarbone chains on Han Lingqiu were secured with locks—clearly not something the soldier’s keys could open.

After briefly assessing the thickness and material of the chains, Duan Xu drew the Illusion-Breaking Sword from his waist, weighed it in his hand, and murmured, "It’s up to you now, Illusion-Breaking."With a few swift strokes, the characters 'break' and 'illusion' on the blade gleamed brightly as it sliced through the chains like cutting through mud." Satisfied, Duan Xu sheathed the sword, crouched down, and patted Han Lingqiu’s face. "Han Lingqiu, wake up. We’re leaving."

Han Lingqiu frowned, shaking his head with difficulty before opening his eyes. They were bloodshot and unfocused, staring blankly at Duan Xu.

Then his expression changed. With a sudden burst of violence, he seized Duan Xu’s collar and growled through gritted teeth, "Crimson Karma Feather…"

Duan Xu’s pupils constricted sharply. He quickly broke free from Han Lingqiu’s grip and stood up, looking down at the feral man before him.

Han Lingqiu had just spoken in Huqi—the name of Duan Xu’s bed in Heaven Knows. Before completing their training, they weren’t allowed names, so they were often referred to by their bed assignments.

This was the worst-case scenario. Han Lingqiu had regained his memories.

Back then, the memory-erasing drug Duan Xu had forced Han Lingqiu to drink was stolen from Heaven Knows. Naturally, Heaven Knows also had the antidote. Now that Han Lingqiu had fallen into their hands, Duan Xu had anticipated they might administer the antidote if they discovered his amnesia.

But he also knew the antidote was difficult to concoct, and after taking it, memories would return gradually—anywhere from two days to half a month. He had thought that even if Han Lingqiu had already taken the antidote, he could rescue him before his memories fully returned. He never expected Han Lingqiu to recover them so quickly.

The cold moonlight cast over Han Lingqiu’s face, making the scar running down from his temple appear even more menacing, as though it had split him in two. His blood-red eyes reflected Duan Xu, filled with deep-seated hatred.

Hatred.

Just like during those seven years in Heaven Knows—strangers pitted against each other, life and death on the line, not even knowing what they hated, only that they hated.Duan Xu crouched down, gripping Han Lingqiu’s collar as he stared into his eyes, smiling. "Han Lingqiu, snap out of it. Open your eyes wide and look clearly—I am your marshal, and you are my general! I don’t have time to deal with you right now. Get up and come with me."

Han Lingqiu froze for a moment, murmuring under his breath, "Marshal... general... Han Lingqiu..."

His fists clenched tightly as he lowered his head, teeth gritted, emitting a sound like a mournful wail, as if torn apart by his absurd and contradictory past.

Noticing footsteps, Duan Xu immediately stood and turned, spotting Luda, who had returned after leaving. Luda walked slowly into the cell, his expression complicated as he looked at Duan Xu.

"Seventeen... you're alive." After a pause, he added, "You're Duan Xu, the Marshal of Great Liang."

Duan Xu fell silent for a moment before tilting his head with a bright smile. "It’s been years—I hope you’ve been well, High Priest. I did say it’d be best if we never met again. What an unfortunate coincidence."

A creaking sound emerged from the darkness, like the turning of wheels. Duan Xu tightened his grip on the Illusion-Breaking Sword, his gaze shifting toward the noise. A wooden wheelchair slowly emerged from the shadows into the moonlit area. The person seated wore black robes, adorned with Huqi’s signature bone-and-silver ornaments at his waist. The light gradually revealed his face—a wrinkled visage nearing sixty, still bearing the firm contours and imposing presence of a man of authority, though his eyes were nothing but purplish scars. His white hair was neatly braided.

Duan Xu’s eyes widened slowly.

His master, Murtu. The man who had been his "father" from the age of seven until fourteen.

For a moment, he didn’t know where he was.

He seemed to hear the cacophony of trees burning, the gushing of blood, the clashing of blades, the crack of disciplinary whips, the crisp snap of breaking bones—all surging from the past. Cries, screams, someone shrieking that they would never forgive him, another pleading in despair for mercy, and someone else laughing—a laugh both real and illusory.

That laughter was unbearably shrill, like sharp thorns sprouting from a sea of blood, piercing everyone—including himself—into tatters. Who was laughing?

It seemed to be Seventeen.

Himself.

Back then, the old man before him had been sharp-eyed and keen-eared, his expression arrogant and domineering as he bent down to grasp his bloodstained hands and said—

You truly are a genius, a blessing from the Azure God.

You’ve done well. Just as I expected of you.

Duan Xu took two steps back. Amidst the overwhelming tide of bloodshed, the old man before him had occasionally shown an awkward sort of gentleness.

The Western Regions sent some melons and fruits as tribute. They’re very sweet—only children like you would enjoy such things. Take them.

Injured again? I’ll grant you three days of rest. So what if I favor you? If the others were like you, I’d favor them too.

Duan Xu’s eyes gradually reddened, the madness he usually concealed now surfacing. Like a hedgehog raising all its spines, he smiled and said, "Master, it’s been a while. Congratulations—you’ve finally ambushed me."

This man, detestable and fearsome, who had always praised him with the very things he feared and loathed, who had pressed him into the mud for so long.

Yet also the one who, with his other hand, had cradled the back of his head and lifted him from the mire to breathe.The old man remained silent. Between them lay a distance of two zhang, nine years of time, the bond of master and disciple, and the blinding hatred.

He said faintly, "You saved him once, and now you’ve come to save him again. Why?"

Duan Xu seemed to think seriously for a moment before answering, "Why? Why... Perhaps it’s the same reason I didn’t kill you back then—because of the compassion you despised."

"Your martial arts, all your skills—I taught them to you."

"And all the people I killed, you ordered me to kill them."

"People are divided into ranks. You betrayed me for those lowly ones?"

Duan Xu laughed and shook his head, then realized Murtu couldn’t see his gesture. He said, "Master, we have a fundamental disagreement rooted deep in our bones. We can never understand each other."

At this moment, it suddenly dawned on him—what he had been avoiding all along. In his heart, he longed for an ending where he would never see Murtu again.

The hatred between them could never be put into words. Let all the unspeakable resentment, pain, gratitude, and betrayal vanish into the shadows behind Seventeen, forever hidden in darkness, with death as the final conclusion.

When he fled, he had assumed his master—a man so unyielding and proud—would never leave the Heaven Knows Manor after suffering betrayal and blindness, hiding his wretched decline behind his illustrious name. He never thought he’d see him again in this lifetime.

"Han people are inferior, untrustworthy," Fourteen said. Standing behind Murtu, he pushed the wheelchair, his wary eyes fixed on Duan Xu like a hawk’s.

Duan Xu lowered his head with a faint smile, lifting Han Lingqiu from the ground. "Hear that? You still won’t come with me? Want to stay here and be a slave?"

But Luda spoke to Han Lingqiu instead: "All who devote themselves to the Azure God are his children. You are Danzhi. You are not Han Lingqiu. Your parents were devout followers of the Azure God. They offered you to Heaven Knows, hoping you would stand out and serve the Azure God. To this day, your parents still wait in Danzhi, longing for your return. You have a sister—do you remember?"

Fourteen added darkly, "You should have been Seventeen. That scheming apostate had no right to take the Nether Trial. He ruined your life, separated you from your family, and led you astray to serve the enemy. He’s the one you should hate most. Today, none of you will leave."

Han Lingqiu let out a near-maddened scream, breaking free from Duan Xu’s grip. Covering his face with trembling hands, he suddenly slammed Duan Xu against the wall, choking him as his eyes burned red. "Why? Why didn’t you just kill me back then? Why did you save me? Why did you save me?!"

Duan Xu glanced around at those standing in the prison—Luda, Fourteen, Murtu, Han Lingqiu, and countless soldiers lurking in the shadows.

Truly, surrounded by wolves.

"To be honest, I’m starting to regret coming to save you," Duan Xu said with a laugh.