Love Beyond the Grave

"What happened to Xianye?"

"There was a notorious eccentric at the Southern Capital's Fengci Poetry Society named Fan Qian. In May, he wrote a lyric poem called 'Jianghuazi,' which contained offensive remarks about the Emperor. After His Majesty woke from his fainting spell and read the poem, he flew into a rage and sentenced Fan Qian to execution. As the head of the Fengci Poetry Society, Lord Fang was implicated and demoted to the fifth-rank position of Director of the Bureau of Receptions in the Ministry of Rites."

Duan Xu's gaze darkened. He murmured, "The Bureau of Receptions in the Ministry of Rites... Xianye has been sidelined to a hollow post."

"Since the Crown Prince's death ten years ago, the Emperor has not appointed a new heir. Though His Majesty is still in his prime, his fainting spells make the succession an urgent matter. The princes and their factions are already stirring, and the court has become treacherous lately. Lord Fang must be having a hard time," Luo Xian sighed.

The situation bore an eerie resemblance to the chaos in Danzhi during the Three Kings' Rebellion. Duan Xu had once laughed at the infighting in Danzhi, never expecting the tides to turn so swiftly toward Great Liang. For now, the turmoil remained beneath the surface, but who knew what would happen next?

Duan Xu sighed helplessly. "Without you in the Southern Capital to facilitate information, Xianye has lost a great deal of support. At least here on the frontier, the ripples are smaller."

"Lord Fang's letter didn't dwell on these misfortunes."

"He was never one to complain about such things."

Fang Xianye was far away in the Southern Capital, and Duan Xu's ability to help was limited by distance. After Luo Xian relayed the latest critical intelligence, he melted silently into the night. Duan Xu lifted the tent flap and stepped outside. The stars were brilliant tonight, the sky breathtaking.

He stood still for a moment, lost in thought, then turned to the guard on his left. "You, come with me."

The guard saluted and followed his commander through the rows of tents until they reached a lush, grassy stream at the edge of the camp. Duan Xu leisurely came to a halt and looked back at the guard, saying nothing. The silence grew awkward and strange. After a moment of wordless eye contact, the guard blurted out, "Fine, you've found me out again."

The man's body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud. A pair of red boots embroidered with flowing cloud patterns stepped onto the damp, soft earth by the stream. Under the starlight, the beauty before him seemed to glow even more radiantly. He Simu's sleeves fluttered lightly as she stood before him with a faint smile.

Duan Xu glanced at the fallen guard and sighed. "Now I'll have to find someone to carry him back again."

"Call Chen Ying. He's quite practiced at this by now," He Simu said, stepping over the man's legs to stand beside Duan Xu. He reached out and took her cold, pale hand, fragrant with amber, interlacing their fingers tightly.

"You're Chen Ying's sworn elder sister, yet you order him around like this?" Duan Xu's eyes sparkled with starlight as he grinned brightly.

"Speaking of which, Chen Ying has complained to me that you're too harsh when training him—almost like you're torturing him."

Duan Xu raised an eyebrow. "He said that?"

He Simu nodded, leaning closer to whisper, "I told him—'Well done, Third Brother. Strict teachers produce outstanding students. Keep training hard.'"Duan Xu couldn't help but laugh, almost able to picture Chen Ying's pitiful, tearful expression—it nearly made his heart ache with sympathy. Mid-laughter, however, he noticed He Simu's gaze trailing down along his collar. She reached out to tug at his lapel, and when her icy fingertips brushed against the skin of his chest, the cold sent a shiver through him.

"How are the wounds from last time? Let me see." As she spoke, He Simu had already pulled open most of his lapel, revealing his scar-riddled skin. His injuries last time had been on his abdomen, and she showed no hesitation in continuing to undress him further.

Though Duan Xu was long accustomed to her disregard for propriety, he still caught her hand at this moment, smiling faintly as he said, "Your Highness, isn't it a bit inappropriate to undress me out here in the wilderness?"

He Simu lifted her eyes to meet his, and he leaned in to whisper by her ear, "Meandering by the river talking to myself is one thing, but if my clothes just happened to fall off while walking—what if someone saw? That would be far too improper. Besides, it's been two months already. The wounds healed long ago."

With that, he raised his head and gazed at her with a radiant smile. He Simu studied the dazzling stars in the young man's eyes, then arched a brow and smirked, pressing a kiss to the pale collarbone exposed by her tugging. The body beneath her palm trembled again.

"Fair enough. Our Duan fox's body shouldn't be seen by others. Are the wounds really all healed? Do they still hurt?"

Duan Xu adjusted his clothes as he replied, "They're fine, haven't hurt in a while. The medicine you brought afterward worked wonders. What kind of precious ingredients were in those? Did I make you spend a fortune?"

"Good, you're aware of it. Take better care of yourself and get injured less—don't push your luck just because you're young." He Simu lightly patted his cheek, and Duan Xu obediently let her, his eyes serious as he asked, "I heard Hejia Fengyi left the Southern Capital. Did something happen in the Ghost Realm?"

He Simu's movements paused. She tilted her head and laughed. "Actually, that's what I came to tell you. Yan Ke attempted to assassinate me recently to seize the Ghost King Lamp, but when he failed, he outright rebelled. He's rallied four Hall Masters to rise up with him, so the Ghost Realm is about to descend into chaos. To prevent the turmoil from spilling into the human world, nearly all cultivators and sorcerers have been mobilized. Feng Yi, being the strongest sorcerer of his time, naturally had to return to Star Clarity Palace."

Duan Xu narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Yan Ke? That... right minister who's infatuated with you?"

"Yes."

He Simu answered frankly and calmly. Seeing she seemed unfazed, Duan Xu didn't press further, only saying, "So you're telling me you'll be extremely busy from now on and might not visit me often?"

"Mm, that's right."

"Ah... how long will the unrest in the Ghost Realm last? It won't be... a decade or two, will it?"

He Simu burst into laughter. "That depends. Some conflicts last just a few years, others drag on for decades."

"And how long will yours take?"

"Me?" He Simu teased, pausing before answering with a smile, "Half a year."

Duan Xu visibly relaxed. If she said so, she must have already prepared—nothing unexpected would happen. Still, he sighed regretfully. "Half a year... you'll miss the blooming season in Luozhou, then."

"Hm?""The peonies of Luozhou are the most renowned. I originally thought to take you there next spring when they bloom—gentle breezes, warm sun, and the fragrance of flowers filling the air. Since you like the wind, we could ride horses through the fields of blossoms. During the peony season, Luozhou holds lantern parades and Taiping drum performances at night—it’s incredibly lively."

The two walked hand in hand along the riverbank as He Simu listened to Duan Xu’s description and remarked, "Duan Shunxi, listen to how many things you’ve just mentioned. Are you planning to trade me your sense of color, touch, and smell all at once?"

"Why not?" Duan Xu replied without hesitation.

He Simu stopped in her tracks. Narrowing her eyes, she stepped closer to him and said, "Duan Shunxi, don’t be reckless. Ever since Feng Yi taught you how to exchange senses, you’ve become increasingly unrestrained. Haven’t you noticed your own senses fading? Trading three senses to me at once—are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Duan Xu blinked innocently and smiled. "But with just one sense, you can’t fully experience the world."

"It’s enough. More than enough." He Simu pointed at his chest. "You’re more important."

Duan Xu’s eyes shimmered, and he grinned brightly.

After a pause, He Simu still couldn’t shake her worry. "This is a sensitive time. If anything dangerous happens, you must call for me immediately. Do you understand?"

Duan Xu sighed. "But I can’t go to you either. If something happens to you, I wouldn’t know. What am I supposed to do then?"

"Don’t worry. If anything happens to me, you’ll definitely know. If I were to vanish into ashes, the world would descend into chaos and calamity. At that point, what would Great Liang and Danzhi even be fighting for? They’d sign a truce and rush home to deal with the mess—survival would come first."

The mortal realm was far too fragile compared to the Ghost Realm—fragile as a child’s game. If the Ghost Realm willed it and the immortal sects did not intervene, a mere flick of the finger could alter the course of history, let alone the annihilation of the Ghost King—a catastrophe even the immortal sects couldn’t contain.

As the saying goes: In prosperity, the people suffer; in decline, the people suffer. Such was the way of the world.

He Simu embraced her brave yet fragile lover in this fleeting and delicate mortal world. His youthful eyes reflected her image, and above them stretched a sea of stars.

"Will you miss me?" her lover asked.

She chuckled softly. Duan Xu loved asking this question. It seemed he had never insisted on hearing her say she loved him—only whether she would miss him.

"Of course," she said. "I’ll miss you often."

And sometimes, I’ll be moved by you.

Moved by the fleeting, insignificant, foolish, and seemingly meaningless—yet vivid—emotions of this mortal world.

Duan Xu lowered his head and hugged her tightly, sighing deeply. "I don’t want to go back. I wish we could win the war tomorrow and go play in your Jade Zhou City. That place is all black and white—it’s time to build a colorful palace there."

"A colorful palace?"

"Do you remember the caisson ceiling we saw at the Yuling Tower in Huzhou? That kind of color."

"The one with green lacquer, golden fretwork, madder-red qilins, and turquoise ruyi birds? A palace with that color scheme would be far too gaudy. Are you trying to build a peacock spreading its tail?""Anyway, other Evil Ghosts can't see it. Only I can, and you when your color perception changes. It must be quite striking—a palace like this in a black-and-white city. It's interesting and will help you remember the colors."

"I don't think it looks good."

"How could that be..."

Hand in hand, the two of them walked circles along the riverbank. Under the starlight, only one shadow stretched across the road, and only one reflection shimmered in the river. Yet the cold hand Duan Xu held gradually warmed in his grasp.

After that, rumors began to spread in the military camp—people claimed to have seen Marshal Duan walking alone by the river at night, muttering to himself. Given Duan Xu's reputation for uncanny foresight and brilliant strategies, the soldiers concluded this must be his unique way of planning and contemplation.

So when night fell and Duan Xu lifted the tent flap, he would often spot many soldiers strolling along the riverbank.

Chen Ying, who helped carry the fainted soldiers back for Duan Xu, remarked that at least no one suspected their commander had lost his mind—which was something to celebrate.