Love Beyond the Grave

Although Duan Xu had left through the door when exiting Fang Xianye's place, he still had to climb the wall to return to the Duan residence. As he landed lightly in the courtyard after scaling the wall, he unexpectedly locked eyes with Duan Jingyuan.

"Why aren't you asleep yet? It's so late," Duan Xu asked curiously after a moment of mutual staring.

Duan Jingyuan hurried over with a lantern, equally surprised. "I remembered I forgot to add an ingredient to my chrysanthemum wine... Wait, no—why are you dressed like this so late at night? Where have you been?"

As she drew closer, she spotted the bloodstains on Duan Xu's collar. Her face instantly paled, and her lips trembled as she stammered, "Third Brother... you... did you kill someone?"

Duan Xu couldn't help but laugh. He leisurely walked toward his courtyard, casually patting Duan Jingyuan's head. "No, that's my blood."

Duan Jingyuan immediately followed him. "Then are you hurt? What exactly were you doing?"

Duan Xu shook his head, placing a finger to his lips. "A secret."

Duan Jingyuan puffed her cheeks in frustration, trailing after him into his Bright Moon Residence. "Don't think you can fool me this time. If you don't tell me, I'll go tell Father—"

Before she could finish, she noticed Duan Xu's steps slowing. He swayed slightly before collapsing to the ground without warning, landing with a dull thud and lying completely still. Duan Jingyuan froze, then whispered, "Brother, don't try to trick me. Stop pretending and get up!"

Duan Xu lay motionless on the stone pavement, his eyes tightly shut. Under the lantern light, his face was deathly pale, like a piece of white jade on the verge of shattering.

Panic set in. Duan Jingyuan set down the lantern and lifted Duan Xu, calling out, "Third Brother! Third Brother, wake up!"

Only when she held him did she realize the alarming heat radiating from his body—he was burning with fever. Horrified, she pressed a hand to his forehead and raised her voice. "Third Brother! Third Brother!"

Disturbed by her shouts, Duan Xu frowned and murmured weakly—"He Simu"—before falling silent again, unresponsive to Duan Jingyuan's continued pleas.

Frantic, Duan Jingyuan stood up to call for help, but seeing her brother in his night suit made her hesitate to alert their parents. As she glanced uncertainly toward the courtyard gate, a sudden chill ran down her spine. When she turned back, her eyes widened in shock at the sight of a familiar figure.

A tall, beautiful woman stood beside Duan Xu, dressed in a red-and-white triple-layered robe, silver tassels swaying at her forehead. The cold north wind howled, and the flickering lantern light cast eerie shadows. The ghostly energy emanating from her was even colder than the winter wind.

Duan Jingyuan finally found her voice, though it came out shaky. "H-He... Miss He... Miss He."

The ghostly aura around He Simu quickly receded, her eyes returning to their normal black-and-white clarity. She gave a slight nod in acknowledgment before lowering her gaze to Duan Xu. With a sigh, she raised her hand slightly, and Duan Xu's body levitated effortlessly. She then took his arm and draped it over her shoulder.

Duan Xu's forehead rested against He Simu's neck as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, murmuring in a daze, "He Simu..."He Simu glanced at him before turning to walk toward his room, the door opening automatically. Duan Jingyuan followed closely behind and saw He Simu place Duan Xu on the bed. With a flick of her fingers, his clothes peeled away, revealing his shoulders and chest crisscrossed with scars.

Duan Jingyuan gasped, “Miss He… what are you… doing?”

“Changing his clothes. He can’t keep wearing this night suit,” He Simu replied calmly before turning to instruct Duan Jingyuan, “Go fetch a physician.”

Gritting her teeth, Duan Jingyuan turned to grab her lantern and went to find a doctor. Part of her thought, That’s a ghost—how can I leave Third Brother with a ghost? But another part reminded her that even in his dreams, he called out her name. What was the point of worrying? Maybe even if Miss He devoured him, he’d be happy about it. Lost in these thoughts, she returned with the physician, only to find He Simu already gone. Duan Xu now lay in bed wearing a thin inner robe, covered by thick blankets, a damp cloth resting on his forehead as he slept fitfully.

The physician stepped forward to take Duan Xu’s wrist and check his pulse. Duan Xu frowned and murmured weakly, “Simu…”

Duan Jingyuan froze, leaning against the doorframe, her heart tangled in an indescribable mess.

The physician couldn’t determine what exactly was wrong with Duan Xu and could only prescribe medicine for the fever. Duan Jingyuan had the maids brew the medicine and brought it over to feed him, but Duan Xu clenched his lips shut, turning his head away at the mere scent of the bitter concoction.

Sweating with frustration, Duan Jingyuan suddenly sensed a familiar chill. Her hand holding the medicine paused, and she said to her maid, “You may leave. I’ll handle this.”

The maid bowed and withdrew.

Out of the corner of her eye, Duan Jingyuan caught a flash of red fabric. He Simu stood beside her, hands clasped behind her back, her gaze fixed on Duan Xu.

“What’s wrong with him?” He Simu asked.

“I don’t know… The physician couldn’t tell either. He just said… Third Brother is very weak,” Duan Jingyuan answered quietly.

He Simu flicked a pill into the medicine bowl in Duan Jingyuan’s hands, then took the bowl and sat beside Duan Xu.

Alarmed, Duan Jingyuan protested, “What did you just put in there?”

“A spiritual remedy from the immortal sects. It won’t kill him.”

“You… why did you come looking for my Third Brother?” Duan Jingyuan asked, half-doubting.

He Simu lifted her eyes to meet Duan Jingyuan’s and said flatly, “He sent word that he wanted to see me. I came—that counts as seeing him.”

With that, she scooped up a spoonful of the medicine and held it to Duan Xu’s lips. “Open your mouth. Time for medicine.”

Duan Xu frowned and turned his head away. Already delirious from fever, he instinctively recoiled from the bitterness, refusing to open his mouth no matter what.

He Simu murmured, “Still so afraid of bitterness. Do you have any candied fruit?”

Duan Jingyuan immediately stood. “I’ll go buy some right now!”

“Never mind.” He Simu lifted the bowl and took a sip herself before pulling Duan Xu up by the shoulders. Pressing her lips to his, she pried his teeth apart, and finally, his throat moved—swallowing the medicine.

But as she withdrew, Duan Xu wrapped his arms around her neck. His face twisted in pain—whether from illness or something else, it was unclear—as he murmured with closed eyes, “Simu… it’s so bitter… mmm…”Before he could finish speaking, He Simu lowered her head to feed him the second mouthful, silencing him. His arms flailed aimlessly over her shoulders, his slender fingers finally grasping the hair at the back of her head as he strained to lift his neck.

The sounds gradually took on a different tone, the passing of the medicinal brew interspersed with the wet sounds of lips and tongues entwined. Each time He Simu released him, he would start calling her name again, only to have his mouth covered once more before he could utter it twice. In this intermittent manner, he finished the entire bowl of medicine.

He Simu set the empty bowl aside and tried to lay Duan Xu back on the bed, but he refused to let go. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, his cheek pressed against hers, he mumbled incoherently, "It's so bitter... I don't want it... I don't want to drink it... Simu..."

She remained silent for a moment before finally raising a hand to pat his back gently, whispering, "It's gone now, all finished, Duan Fox."

His fingers traced over He Simu's cold skin. Perhaps because the fever had left him delirious, he clung to the temperature of her body with unusual intensity, holding her tighter and tighter, as if expending what little strength he had left in this embrace.

"It's so hot, Simu... I feel awful..." His brows furrowed tightly, as though unable to relieve his suffering, and he murmured softly, "Hold me."

He Simu's hand, which had been patting his back, stilled. After a moment of silence, she finally sighed and slowly leaned in, wrapping her arms around his back and resting her head on his shoulder. Her embrace was terrifyingly tight, as if she couldn't hold back, clutching him fiercely—a hug that seemed to merge bone and blood.

As if the person in her arms was someone she could not afford to lose.

Duan Jingyuan froze for a moment, then lowered her eyes and quietly slipped out of Duan Xu's room, closing the door behind her.

By the time Duan Xu awoke, daylight had flooded the room, and the fever that had tormented him all night had subsided. He blinked dazedly at the window, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on Duan Jingyuan, who was slumped asleep by the bedside. Frowning slightly, he tried to recall—Chen Ying had been staying at the military camp outside the city last night, so had Jing Yuan been the one to take care of him all night?

Duan Jingyuan stirred, lifting her head from her arms. When she saw Duan Xu awake, her eyes lit up with joy—if her third brother hadn't woken up soon, she would have had no choice but to inform their parents. She reached out to touch his forehead, exhaling in relief before scolding him, "You scared me half to death! What in the world happened to you?"

Duan Xu propped himself up with his arms and smiled. "The physician said it was some strange illness. I don’t know what happened either. Thank you for taking care of me last night."

Duan Jingyuan hesitated, studying his expression carefully. "You... don’t remember what happened last night?"

Duan Xu looked surprised. "What happened?"

After stammering for a while, Duan Jingyuan finally gritted her teeth and said, "Miss He came. She was the one who changed your clothes, fed you the medicine, and... you even asked her to hold you!"

Duan Xu's hand, which had been massaging his forehead, froze midair. He stared blankly for a long moment before asking, "She... came? Did I call her name?"

Duan Jingyuan nodded emphatically. "You called it with great enthusiasm."

" He Simu ," he uttered her name again almost instantly. Duan Jingyuan gave him a strange look before glancing around the room, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, so does she appear whenever you call her? Yesterday, she said she was only here to see you because someone asked her to."He Simu did not appear in the room. It seemed that had just been an accident.

Duan Xu frowned slightly, then smiled and sighed, "So that's how it was. Just a single encounter."

The morning light illuminated the room brightly. Duan Xu, dressed in a white underrobe, looked pale as well. Though his words carried a hint of sadness, his round, luminous eyes held laughter, appearing bright and carefree. This was the third brother Duan Jingyuan knew best, yet she couldn't help recalling the Duan Xu who had clung to He Simu last night.

Her heart stirred slightly. After a moment's thought, she bit her lip and asked, "Third Brother, do you also act spoiled? Actually... you're someone who likes to act spoiled, aren't you?"

She had never seen Duan Xu act spoiled before. In her memories, her third brother was cheerful, lively, and carefree, yet never intimate with their parents—even somewhat polite and distant. It seemed he had never needed to seek affection or sympathy from anyone in his life.

So she had always thought her third brother didn't know how to act spoiled—wouldn't cling tightly to a girl, refusing to let go, whispering "I feel so terrible, hold me."

But perhaps he was someone who liked to act spoiled after all? She suddenly felt she didn't truly understand him.

Duan Xu was momentarily taken aback, as if finding the question amusing. He was about to answer "no," but stopped short, seemingly thinking of something.

After a brief silence, his eyes curved into crescents as he said, "I'm used to feigning weakness on purpose to soften someone's heart. Maybe I've been pretending for so long that the act became real."

Come to think of it, someone as clever as her—if she hadn't glimpsed his genuine longing beneath his feigned vulnerability, why would she have yielded every time?

"Third Brother, why do you like Miss He so much?"

Duan Jingyuan truly couldn't understand. Miss He was beautiful, but the Southern Capital wasn't lacking in beautiful girls. Miss He seemed formidable, but what use was a powerful ghost to a human?

Duan Xu thought seriously for a while, his fingers tapping idly against his bent knee. "The first time I fell for her," he said, "she was wearing a light pink beizi and skirt, holding a little pinwheel, spinning in circles as she walked toward me under the bright sunshine. Hahaha, looking back now, she seemed a bit silly then."

"But in that moment, I thought the world was truly wonderful, and she was the reason it had become so. She's an exceptionally, exceptionally good girl, and I want her to love me."

Come to think of it, from the age of seven until now, he had never expected anyone to love him again. All his life's desires had revolved around destruction, rebuilding, salvation, and giving.

She was his only wish concerning "receiving."

He wasn't entirely sure what kind of person he was either. He had steadfast desires, yet had been acting for so long that sometimes he couldn't distinguish between the stage and reality.

No matter what kind of person he was—genius, madman, outlier, or heretic—he wanted her love. Then he would pour all his vitality and passion, his madness and devotion into ensuring that for centuries to come, she would know no peace, unable to forget him.