Love Beyond the Grave

Yan Ke's gaze shifted to Bai Sanxing, who was bound behind Jiang Ai. Bai Sanxing shot Jiang Ai a resentful look before meeting Yan Ke's eyes and sneering, "What, do you really think I'd keep your secret for you? You're He Simu's father's murderer, yet you hypocritically stand by her side, tricking her into killing me—the only one who knows the truth. If Simu finds out, she'll grind your bones to dust."

Jiang Ai took a few graceful steps toward Yan Ke, her silk skirt swaying as she said leisurely, "So, Lord Yan, your earlier nervousness wasn’t about Bai Sanxing coming after you, but about our King meeting him and learning the truth of that year. How curious. You used Bai Sanxing’s power to eliminate the former Ghost King, then used Simu’s hand to remove Bai Sanxing. With only Simu left as an obstacle on your path to the throne, why have you remained so obediently as the Right Minister all these years? Have you truly given up on the throne?"

She leaned closer to Yan Ke, raising a finger to her lips as she whispered, "Former Rakshasa Hall Master... that pitiful child’s master was you, wasn’t it, Right Minister? You want Simu’s Ghost King Lamp, don’t you?"

Yan Ke stared coldly at Jiang Ai, his eyes flickering with unspoken thoughts.

Jiang Ai covered her lips with her sleeve and stepped back, laughing with unrestrained charm. "With such a fatal weakness in my hands, you still dare to question me? If Bai Sanxing testifies against you one day, Simu will thank me."

"What do you want?" Yan Ke finally spoke.

"What do I want? You know I have no interest in the throne—whether it’s you or Simu sitting there makes no difference to me. But Lord Yan, let me offer you some advice out of pity. You can’t have both the throne and Simu. Don’t be too greedy." Jiang Ai retreated to Bai Sanxing’s side, her eyes turning cold. "There’s no perfect solution in this world. Sooner or later, you’ll have to break with Simu. If you become King one day, don’t forget how I helped you keep this secret today."

She gestured gracefully toward the door. Yan Ke studied her for a moment before vanishing into the mist with a cold laugh.

Jiang Ai’s smile faded. Once she confirmed Yan Ke’s presence had completely disappeared, she released Bai Sanxing’s restraints and remarked, "You acted well."

Bai Sanxing seemed indignant.

Then she walked toward the room behind the courtyard and pushed open the door. Behind it stood an ornate jade-and-gold screen, layered with concealment spells. A woman sat behind it, calmly reading a scroll, the lamp at her waist emitting a faint blue glow.

Jiang Ai said, "Your Majesty, he admitted it."

He Simu closed the Ghost Records and lifted her gaze through the screen’s intricate carvings to meet Jiang Ai’s. "Mm, I heard."

After a pause, Jiang Ai couldn’t help but ask, "Simu—Your Majesty... when did you learn about the former Ghost King’s death?"

"I pieced most of it together." He Simu tapped the Ghost Records idly. "My father wouldn’t have died for love. Few could harm him. Bai Sanxing may be arrogant and rebellious, but he wouldn’t strike when my father was weakened by grief. Besides, if he’d done it, he’d have boasted to the heavens—why use the pretense of a lover’s suicide?"

"And Yan Ke..."

"Do you know how Yan Ke died?"

Jiang Ai hesitated, then shook her head."He was a prince, granted a title, rebelled, was captured, escaped, raised troops again, and was defeated once more. After three rises and falls, he was finally torn apart by chariots and his corpse abandoned in the marketplace." He Simu flipped through the Ghost Records, speaking calmly: "His obsession was power, to become the supreme ruler of all under heaven—how could he ever submit to being beneath another?"

Those distant past events might have already faded from Yan Ke's own memory, but the Ghost Records remembered clearly. The Ghost Records documented things that neither disappeared nor changed. He Simu often leafed through this tome that recorded the lives and weaknesses of all Evil Ghosts. The yellowed pages told her of the misfortunes and malice surrounding these ghosts—their insatiable desires, endless and unquenchable.

In truth, within this Ghost Realm, she only trusted this Ghost Records and her Ghost King Lamp.

Jiang Ai watched He Simu from behind the exquisitely ornate screen. She had seen this girl grow up in the human world and then watched her reign as Ghost King for three hundred years in the Ghost Realm. Yet suddenly, she felt she no longer understood her.

"So when you say you dislike Evil Ghosts, you're actually tormenting Yan Ke?"

"Making him my subordinate—unable to attain the throne or me, seeing but never touching—isn’t that amusing? This maze prison beyond the Nine Palaces Maze Prison is far more torturous than being obliterated."

He Simu's calm voice drifted from behind the screen.

"However, I truly do dislike Evil Ghosts. If I could like them, as you and Bai Sanxing do, that might be better."

These words reminded Jiang Ai of half a year ago, when He Simu had suddenly gifted her that plain white bracelet adorned with bells.

At the time, she had asked—What is this?

He Simu had casually dropped a bombshell—Bai Sanxing's Heart Candle.

Shocked, Jiang Ai then heard He Simu explain that she had preserved Bai Sanxing's Heart Candle back then, taking it outside the Nine Palaces Maze Prison to keep it lit, safeguarded by the Hejia lineage. The thirtieth-generation Hejia was a skilled and clever individual who modified the Heart Candle, turning it into a magical artifact capable of controlling and suppressing its owner.

Jiang Ai had been skeptical—Your Majesty, you’re giving this artifact to me?

—In truth, there was some affection between you and Bai Sanxing, wasn’t there? It’s just that he was too arrogant, trying to control you, pushing you too hard. When you thought he had died, I saw how devastated you were.

—Simu…

—Now it’s your turn to control him. He’s suffered greatly in the Nine Palaces Maze Prison—I just woke him and brought him out. If you’re willing, give him another chance. Aunt Jiang Ai, you’ve been kind to me. I want you to be happy.

Back then, and now, He Simu left Jiang Ai feeling not only unfamiliar but also somewhat sorrowful. She realized this child had long known the whole truth—known who caused her father’s death, known the hidden ambitions of those who seemed close. For over three hundred years, she had remained silent, never attempting to confide in or rely on anyone.

Yet He Simu was still just a girl. Having lived only four hundred years, she had once laughed and scolded in the human world, had once been a girl who acted spoiled in her parents' embrace. How had she matured to this extent?Jiang Ai walked behind the screen, and He Simu seemed somewhat surprised to see her. Noticing the reluctance in Jiang Ai's eyes, He Simu waved her hand with a laugh and said, "Aunt Jiang Ai, don't look at me like that. Since Yan Ke can't control you, he’ll undoubtedly speed up his preparations to avoid complications and rebel as soon as possible. That’s perfect—it’ll let me see who else has ulterior motives, saving me the trouble of hunting them down one by one later. I’ll still need your support when the time comes."

"Of course. But... Simu, why now?" Jiang Ai was puzzled. After all, He Simu had known about these matters for over three hundred years.

He Simu thought for a moment and replied, "Truthfully, I’ve been waiting for him to rebel for a long time. It just never happened, so I wasn’t in any hurry."

Perhaps it was because she didn’t know where her path would lead after avenging her father. She had been walking through a dense fog all along, with only the dim light of revenge to guide her. Soon, even that light would be gone.

After a pause, He Simu added, "But lately, I’ve felt it might be time to bring this to an end. I should move forward."

Jiang Ai found He Simu’s expression familiar—it was the same look she often wore when speaking of that little friend from the mortal world. Though his name wasn’t mentioned here, Jiang Ai had a feeling He Simu was thinking of him.

Meanwhile, in the mortal realm, Duan Xu had secured Jingzhou, and the rebel forces in Qizhou had willingly submitted to him. Now, he began contemplating an attack on Youzhou. Coincidentally, the Danzhi general stationed in Youzhou was none other than his old acquaintance—Fenglai, the very man who had once led troops across the Guan River, sweeping through two provinces and pressing all the way to the Southern Capital.

The succession struggle that had cost Danzhi three provinces had finally concluded, with the sixth prince—Fenglai’s chosen candidate—securing his position as crown prince. Rewarded handsomely, Fenglai had been promoted to Grand General of Danzhi and no longer needed to personally take to the front lines. However, the moment he heard that the Great Liang’s commander-in-chief leading the troops this time was Duan Xu, Fenglai immediately leapt at the chance to lead the campaign. Marching straight to Youzhou with a hundred thousand elite soldiers, he beheaded the generals who had failed to suppress the rebellions in Jingzhou and Qizhou, clearly intent on avenging his past humiliation, driving Duan Xu back, and reclaiming every inch of lost territory.

Duan Xu couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the executed generals. The one in Jingzhou had assumed Tang Dequan would surrender to Danzhi, so his efforts to quell the rebellion had been half-hearted. Who could have predicted Duan Xu’s sudden interference, muddying the waters beyond repair? By the time the general realized his mistake, it was too late to act decisively. As for the general in Qizhou, though he had done his duty, the Zhao family’s deep-rooted influence was simply too formidable—half of Qizhou’s population bore the surname Zhao, all connected by blood or marriage. Over the years, the Zhao clan had thoroughly infiltrated Qizhou’s government and military through bribery and connections, making their uprising an unstoppable force once they raised the banner of rebellion.

Of course, the most critical factor lay in Youzhou’s strategic importance. Its perilous terrain was guarded by heavily fortified checkpoints at every pass. With Great Liang’s armies watching closely from Yunzhou and Luozhou, Danzhi dared not divert too many troops to suppress the rebellions elsewhere.

Duan Xu arrived leisurely in Qizhou and engaged in some diplomatic niceties with Zhao Xing, even citing the carefree life of Qian Chengyi—who had surrendered in Weizhou—to reassure him. Zhao Xing made it clear, both overtly and subtly, that he had no intention of leaving Qizhou for the Southern Capital to receive his official appointment. Knowing exactly what Zhao Xing was scheming, Duan Xu assured him that the Zhao family’s deep roots in Qizhou meant any mishap befalling Zhao Xing in the Southern Capital would be impossible to explain to the locals. Naturally, Great Liang would do everything to ensure his safety. Besides, the Southern Capital’s prosperity promised a far more comfortable life than Qizhou could offer.Zhao Xing and Duan Xu both knew that if Zhao Xing left Qizhou, he wouldn't be able to return for at least thirty years. Zhao Xing was different from Qian Chengyi—Qian Chengyi was a righteous and loyal outlaw with no real influence in Weizhou. Zhao Xing, on the other hand, was a local despot entrenched in Qizhou, with deep connections in officialdom, commerce, and the military. Leaving him in Qizhou would mean an uncontrollable threat, so naturally, he had to be kept under the Emperor's watchful eye.

Just then, news arrived from the Southern Capital that the Emperor had fainted and remained unconscious for five days before waking. The Imperial Astronomers calculated that the anomaly of the Polaris star in the north had clashed with the Emperor's fate, and Polaris happened to correspond to the Qizhou region.

The Emperor immediately issued an edict, ordering Zhao Xing, who was coming from Qizhou, to delay his journey to the Southern Capital to receive his title. Zhao Xing was overjoyed, while Duan Xu had a headache. Fortunately, though Zhao Xing wouldn’t listen to him, at least he wouldn’t cause trouble behind his back, so Duan Xu decided to leave him be for now.

“What’s going on with the Imperial Astronomers? How could State Preceptor Feng Yi let them calculate such things?” Duan Xu couldn’t help but sigh.

Luo Xian, who had brought him the news from the Southern Capital, sat calmly in the tent and said indifferently, “State Preceptor Feng Yi has left the Southern Capital to wander the world—he’s no longer the State Preceptor. Those in the Imperial Astronomers are doing their utmost to submit more reports to the Emperor to secure their positions.”

“The State Preceptor left the Southern Capital?” Duan Xu was surprised.

Hejia Fengyi usually wouldn’t leave the Southern Capital to ensure the royal family’s safety. If he had departed now, could something have happened in the Ghost Realm? When Simu had come to see him earlier, he had also mentioned that the Ghost Realm had been restless lately.

Duan Xu folded his hands near his lips, lost in thought, when Luo Xian continued, “There’s also recent news—something happened to Lord Fang. He’s been demoted.”