Shadow Love (Yu Jin Chang An)

On the day the General's Manor secretly buried Li Shuang, a light rain was falling.

Following the coffin were the personal guards Li Shuang had once led, along with many soldiers she had previously commanded. In contrast, few from the General's Manor attended, and the Grand General himself was absent. Only Li Ting walked beside the coffin, stumbling with every step. Qin Lan had to steady him repeatedly to keep him from collapsing to the ground.

Li Ting’s voice had already been hoarse from days of weeping. When the pallbearers lowered the coffin into the simple grave, he rasped out, “Elder Sister.” His voice, like the falling rain, settled upon the coffin—only to be buried under a shovelful of earth.

Li Shuang was the Grand General’s adopted daughter, but she had died in prison under the weight of accusations. For the General's Manor, even mourning her could not be done openly.

Thus, everything was kept simple—an ordinary coffin, an ordinary grave, stripped of the honors she had earned in life, not even comparable to the burial of any common soldier who had fought for the nation.

Li Ting knelt on the ground, his white mourning robes stained with mud. Qin Lan held him by the arm, silent.

Luo Teng had finally rushed back from the northern frontier that day. Beneath his mourning attire, his armor still carried the chill of the borderlands. His eyes were wide and unblinking, fixed on the guards as they covered Li Shuang’s coffin with earth.

“This general arrived too late! This general deserves death!”

As he spoke, he struck himself hard across the face. Luo Teng’s strength was formidable, and he spared no force against himself. His rough skin immediately swelled, yet he did not stop, delivering blow after blow.

The sharp cracks seemed to tear through the rainy day, lashing at the hearts of all present. Apart from Li Ting’s nearly broken sobs, the scene was deathly silent.

Then, abruptly, a gust of wind stirred the drizzle. Before the soldiers could react, a dark figure lunged into the grave and struck the heavy coffin with a single, brutal palm strike—sending the already nailed lid flying with terrifying force.

The force of the lid knocked aside a guard still holding a shovel, pinning him to the ground. Yet no one paid him any mind. All eyes were fixed on the figure who had leapt into the grave.

“Audacious! Who dares disturb the spirit of our general?” Luo Teng bellowed, disregarding the swelling on his face as he drew his blade and moved to strike. But Qin Lan reached out and stopped him.

Luo Teng halted, glancing at Qin Lan before turning back to the figure. The man stood motionless in the grave, like a specter in the rain.

Inside the heavy outer coffin was a smaller wooden casket, barely longer than a person. Though he had shattered the outer lid with a single strike, the sight of the inner coffin seemed to drain all strength from him. He stood there, frozen, as if entombed alongside it.

His breaths came heavy and ragged, like a beast at bay.

“It’s…” Li Ting recognized him through his tears, but before he could speak, the secluded burial site was suddenly swarmed by figures emerging from the dense woods.

Each wore a Green Dragon Blade at their waist—they were the Emperor’s Green Dragon Guards.

They drew their bows, arrows aimed squarely at Jin An.

Yet Jin An seemed oblivious. His dark eyes remained fixed on the sealed inner coffin, unblinking.

He could smell it—the scent of the Gu Master within.The jade silkworm within his body told him—yes, this was Li Shuang.

Jin An's gaze fixed there, unable to look anywhere else. The shouts of the archers, the gruff bellows of Luo Teng—none of those sounds or sights felt as real to Jin An as the wind in his ears and the raindrops before his eyes.

The coffin lay quietly before him, and within it, Li Shuang rested in silence.

She no longer had warmth or fragrance, yet to Jin An, it felt as though his very soul was being drawn inside. His limbs felt heavy and powerless. He wanted to crouch down, open the inner coffin, and confirm—confirm whether it was truly Li Shuang inside.

But what if...

It was?

The Five Spirits Sect had gone to great lengths to bring him to Lucheng, which was only half a day's journey from the Western Rong. Wu Yin had disguised him, making it easy to slip out of Lucheng. Yet, as he passed through the city gate Li Shuang had once guarded, he saw Luo Teng on duty.

A panicked soldier rushed to report: "General Luo! General Luo! News from the capital—General Li... General Li has died suddenly... in prison!"

Luo Teng, hot-tempered as ever, snapped, "Speak clearly, you brat! Which General Li?"

"General... General Li Shuang..."

A single drop, like water falling into a still lake, sent ripples cascading through his heart.

Jin An watched as Luo Teng froze for a moment before his expression twisted in shock. The general turned and left with the soldier, while Jin An stood motionless amidst the bustling crowd passing through the gate.

Above him was the city wall Li Shuang had once stood upon; beneath his feet, the land she had defended. Yet, in that moment, it was as though he no longer understood the meaning behind the name "Li Shuang." He couldn’t even comprehend the murmurs around him.

Someone shoved him from behind, and passersby cursed him for blocking the way. Soon, soldiers approached to question him, but Jin An remained unresponsive—like a puppet whose strings had been cut, waiting for someone to pull him away.

Wu Yin, who had been observing from a distance, stepped forward and took his arm. "Young master," Wu Yin said, eyeing Jin An’s dazed expression with narrowed eyes, "we’ve come this far. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly grown sentimental and want to turn back?"

"I’m going back."

"..." Wu Yin forced a patient smile. "Do you think the Five Spirits Sect has nothing better to do?"

Jin An said nothing. He turned and strode back toward the other side of Lucheng, every stranger he passed like a towering wave crashing against his path.

Wu Yin hurried after him, but before he could catch up, another sect member whispered something in his ear. Wu Yin’s expression shifted, and he immediately suppressed all emotion, quickening his pace to reach Jin An.

From then on, as they rushed back from the northern frontier, Wu Yin didn’t waste another word.

Along the way, Jin An rarely spoke to Wu Yin, but he did ask one question: "If Li Shuang dies, will I die too?"

"Logically, the puppet doesn’t die when the master does," Wu Yin replied. "But puppets are fiercely loyal to their masters—most choose to end their own lives. Then we can reclaim the jade silkworm. However, your bond with it is unusual. You’ve already managed to stay so far from your master, and you even left of your own will before. It’s almost as if you’ve overcome the silkworm’s consciousness."Wu Yin studied him with a scrutinizing gaze. "To be honest, I don't understand why you still want to go back to Li Shuang. What happens to her shouldn't matter to you anymore, should it?"

Li Shuang was dead, and Jin An had regained his own consciousness. Beyond Luming City's gates lay the Western Rong territory. He could return there with this unruly power—it should have been the best possible outcome for him.

Nothing in this world could threaten him anymore.

Li Shuang was dead. Wasn't that perfect? What he had wanted but failed to accomplish before, fate had now done for him.

She had known his identity—that he was the Western Rong prince who had slain two of their generals. If he wished to return to the Western Rong, such a stain could not remain on him.

But...

Since learning of Li Shuang's death, even now, despite sitting by the fire every night, he felt a bone-deep chill. As if the blood in his veins would never warm again.

His body no longer obeyed him, and even his thoughts grew strange. When Wu Yin told him Li Shuang had died but that he would not, his first reaction had been... boredom and disappointment.

Why not?

Why couldn't he just follow her in death?

After hearing the news of "Li Shuang's death," a tearing pain had spread through his entire being like maggots burrowing into bone. Every joint, every crevice of his body felt infested with sharp-toothed insects gnawing desperately, as if determined to drain his marrow dry.

Li Shuang was dead—so why did he still live?

Why keep living?

This thought loomed larger than ever as he now stood before Li Shuang's coffin.

He had believed it was the gu worms that loved Li Shuang, that depended on her—not himself. So after regaining his memories and understanding who he truly was, he should have suppressed all impulses brought by those parasites.

Because gu worms were like poison. He was rational, a complete person who must cure himself of this toxin. Thus, depending on Li Shuang became poison. Inability to leave was poison. Profound love was poison.

He forced himself to treat Li Shuang with cold courtesy, forced himself to walk away, forced himself to be rational.

But now, standing before her coffin, he finally understood: all talk of healing and rationality had just been self-deception.

He was no longer the Ao Deng of before. The name given by the person in this coffin had long since merged with his blood and bones, carved into his soul and flesh. It couldn't be dug out, scraped away, or burned to ashes—even if his body turned to cinders, it would remain in the residue.

He had realized the truth, but too late.

With a "thunk," an arrow pierced through the air and embedded itself in his shoulder. The force knocked Jin An forward, his knee landing heavily on Li Shuang's inner coffin.

A hollow echo resounded, as if nothing lay within—yet it shook Jin An's memories to their core.

Blood dripped from the wound onto the coffin, splattering like fireworks during Luming City's Pure Snow Festival, that final burst forever etched in his mind. The rain drifting past his ears recalled the northern windswept peak where he'd first kissed her—her shock and anger still frozen vividly before him.There was also that den of thieves where she braved danger to rescue him from a trap filled with blades. In the military camp, she played the stern general in public but secretly slipped him candies. Even more recently, in the depths of the South Chang Mountain dungeon, she arrived covered in dust to save him. Her neck bore the marks of his frenzied grip, yet she still smiled and softly comforted him.

And all of it, everything, came to a halt on that day when the sunlight waned over the desolate wilderness of the northern frontier. She came galloping on horseback, a female general in red robes and silver armor, bending down to lift him up and feeding him the blood from her fingertips...

That was not the Li Shuang whom Yu Can had fallen in love with first—it was him.

Arrows whistled past, grazing his hairpiece and leaving his locks disheveled. The rain dampened his black hair, making him appear utterly wretched. Then, suddenly, an arrow shot diagonally through the air, piercing the thin wooden panel of the inner coffin.

The wood splintered along its grain, revealing the dark hair of the person inside.

Jin An shuddered as if this arrow had wounded his very soul.

Gritting his teeth, sorrow in his chest mingled with rage. The flame-like markings on his body seemed to ignite once more. His eyes darted fiercely toward the Azure Dragon Guards surrounding the burial pit, his pupils shifting between black and red in a relentless cycle.

"Who dares harm her?"

The onlookers could only watch as a crimson pattern emerged from his collar, creeping upward until it reached the corner of his eye, then setting his irises ablaze.

He removed his outer robe, wrapped it around Li Shuang's coffin, and tied it to his back. Hoisting her inner coffin onto his shoulders, he stood alone in the grave, glaring at the Azure Dragon Guards like a wild beast.

The blood-fueled fury seemed to drive him to madness. The fiery markings did not cease their rampant spread across his body, soon covering his hands and the other half of his face. The patterns writhed beneath his skin, their hue deepening until he appeared almost demonic.

As if impervious to pain, he yanked the arrows from his body with brutal force, a sight so shocking it stunned even Luo Teng, a seasoned veteran of the battlefield.

"This man is..."

Jin An climbed out of the burial pit with Li Shuang's coffin on his back, like a demon who had retrieved his wife from hell, now consumed by despair and ready to slaughter gods and buddhas alike.

His blood-red eyes fixed ahead. The Azure Dragon Guards drew their bows, aiming at him. Their captain spoke up: "We are here under imperial orders to escort Prince Ao Deng to the palace. We do not intend—" Before he could finish, Jin An raised a hand from afar and, with sheer internal energy, dragged the captain toward him by the throat.

"To the palace? Fine. The emperor forced her to her death—then I will kill your emperor."

Everyone present gasped in horror at his deranged state. The Azure Dragon Guards unsheathed their swords, but Jin An paid them no heed. With one hand, he seized the captain's longsword and tossed the man aside like trash.

He strode toward the palace. The guards, of course, would not let him leave. The captain struggled to his feet and barked an order, sending the guards swarming forward.

Amid the flurry of blades, Jin An did not defend himself—only the coffin on his back. Though formidable, the coffin's size and the sheer number of opponents left openings. Yet he would rather take the blows himself than let the coffin suffer even a scratch.Killing as he advanced, he fought his way from the dense forest to the outskirts of the city. The drizzling rain grew heavier amidst the fierce battle, and the closer he got to the main road, the more guards there were. Through the curtain of rain, it almost seemed as though he stood alone against an entire army.

The coffin strapped to his back was stained crimson—whether with his own blood or that of the Azure Dragon Guards, no one could tell. Corpses littered the ground, and the murderous aura radiating from him made the surrounding guards hesitate to attack. They encircled him like a living ring, shifting their positions as he moved.

"This man has gone mad."

"He's been possessed by demons."

"...He must be a demonic fiend!"

Whispers tangled within the rain, surrounding him from all directions. As the number of soldiers before him swelled, a flute's melody suddenly rose in the distance. From the muddy soil emerged countless black insects, swarming out in the blink of an eye!

The insects surged toward the soldiers, crawling over their bodies. Panic erupted as the men frantically tried to brush them off, but no matter how hard they tried, the insects clung relentlessly.

Amidst the chaos, two figures descended from the sky, clad in green robes. They moved to seize Jin An's arms, intending to whisk him away.

Yet when they reached for him, Jin An sidestepped, twisting his body so the coffin on his back knocked them aside.

He did not harm these would-be rescuers from the Five Spirits Sect—he simply refused to let them near him.

Nothing could stop him from reaching the imperial palace. Nothing could stop him from marching to his death. His entire being seemed to scream this defiance.

"Don't let him escape!" The Azure Dragon Guard captain channeled his inner energy, shattering the swarming insects. Snatching a blade from a nearby soldier, he leaped into the air and brought it down upon Jin An.

Jin An raised his own weapon to meet the strike. The clash sent the captain reeling back over a dozen paces before he steadied himself—only for his damaged sword to snap in half with a sharp crack.

The onlookers trembled at Jin An's terrifying strength, but the Azure Dragon Guards, ever loyal to the imperial family, held fast to their pride and duty. Following their captain's lead, they expelled the insects with their inner energy and surged forward once more.

The battlefield descended into bloody chaos, the carnage so intense it seemed even the rain might turn red.

Meanwhile, the soldiers from the general's manor, who had come to escort the funeral procession, observed the battle from a slightly elevated grove by the roadside. Li Ting rubbed his eyes, unable to bear the sight. "Elder Sister would never have wanted this."

Luo Teng scratched his head. "This man and the general..."

Qin Lan remained silent, casting a glance at a short soldier nearby. Cloaked in black like the others, his face hidden beneath a rain hat, the man quietly slipped away unnoticed while all eyes were fixed on the slaughter.

As the rain intensified, so did the fighting. The Five Spirits Sect rescuers were dragged into the fray, unable to extricate themselves. If this continued, not only Jin An but the entire sect would be pulled into the imperial court's whirlpool of conflict.

In the midst of the melee, a single arrow suddenly pierced through the storm. The moment Jin An cut down another guard, the projectile sliced through the rain at an impossible angle, grazing the arm of an Azure Dragon Guard before burying itself with a thud—straight into Jin An's heart.Jin An looked up in the direction from which the arrow had come. Amid the dense shadows of the trees, partially obscured by leaves and the curtain of rain, a figure knelt halfway on a branch, still gripping a bow whose string trembled faintly. Beneath the wide brim of a bamboo hat, she lifted her head slightly.

Those familiar eyes were like starlight in the darkest night, piercing straight into the deepest shadows of his heart.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, suppressing all emotion.

Li Shuang...

It was Li Shuang...

She was alive.

He opened his mouth to call her name, but blood surged forth before any sound could escape. The wounds he had suppressed earlier now erupted violently within him, blood rising to his throat. With a choked gasp, he vomited a mouthful of dark blood, the thick metallic tang overwhelming him.

Amid violent coughing fits, he no longer had the strength to hold himself up. Like a collapsing mountain, he fell heavily to the ground. The robes binding the coffin had already been slashed to tatters, and now they snapped completely. The coffin slid from Jin An’s back, crashing down with a heavy thud, splattering mud and blood across the ground.

So wretched, so filthy—yet Jin An laughed, his voice hoarse and broken.

She was alive.

On the journey back, Wu Yin had asked him: What if this was a scheme? What if Li Shuang had faked her death to lure him back?

He hadn’t answered, but in his heart, he had thought—if that were the case, wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Jin An knelt on the ground, too weak to even lift his head. He remained silent, motionless, as if already unconscious. A soft, breathy chuckle, like a sigh of relief, drifted away with the falling rain.

How wonderful.

It really was a scheme.

She wasn’t dead.

With a dull thud, he closed his eyes, still smiling, and collapsed into unconsciousness.

The surrounding Azure Dragon Guards cautiously approached, intending to take him away. But just then, the distant sound of a flute rose once more, ethereal and haunting. Not just from the ground—countless insects swarmed from the sky, blotting out the world.

No matter how the guards tried to drive them away, the black insects clouded their vision and hindered their movements. Helpless, they could only watch as two figures lifted Jin An’s unconscious body and swiftly carried him away with practiced lightness.

No one noticed the bow that fell listlessly from the tree, nor the slender soldier who had vanished without a trace.

Ten days later, South Long Mountain.

The cheerful chirping of birds greeted Jin An as he awoke—alone.

He tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, a searing pain tore through his chest, so intense it robbed him of all strength. He fell back with a gasp.

"If he doesn’t wake today, there’s nothing more I can do," Wu Yin’s sigh came from outside the room.

"My arrow was too heavy."

At the sound of that voice, Jin An’s eyes brightened.

"There was no other way. Without that, we couldn’t have taken him."

The two spoke as they entered the room.

"Oh!" Wu Yin sounded startled. "You’re awake..."

Jin An ignored him, his gaze fixed solely on the other figure. She moved past the tables and chairs, hurrying to his bedside. "You’re awake?" Backlit by the light, her voice and features were just as they had been when they first met in the northern frontier.

"Awake?" His voice was hoarse, as if he doubted himself—as if he feared this was all a dream. "You’re alive?"

Li Shuang hesitated. "Faking my death... had another purpose. I didn’t expect you to return."

Faking death...

Jin An closed his eyes briefly. Wu Yin’s teasing about his despondency that day now seemed like distant wind, utterly insignificant.Li Shuang saw him like this and assumed he was physically exhausted. She said, "You should rest first, I—"

"Stay with me for a while." He turned his head to look at Li Shuang. "Don't leave."

These were words the old Jin An—before he regained his memories—would have said. But now, when spoken by him, they carried a tone of command and insistence.

Li Shuang was momentarily stunned, but she nodded anyway. "Alright." After all, she had nothing else to do at the moment.

She was now a dead general. In the inner prison, apart from her father Sima Yang and Qin Lan, no one knew she was still alive—even Li Ting was kept in the dark.

Truth be told, this grand scheme wasn’t particularly complicated.

Back then, the soldier who delivered her meal had been instantly seen through by Li Shuang. Feigning poisoning, she lured him into the cell, subdued him in a few moves, and forced him to confess.

It turned out the prime minister had orchestrated the plot, intending to kill Li Shuang to drive a wedge between the emperor and the general’s household.

The prime minister had been too hasty. What Sima Yang needed was a compliant pawn for balance, not one who could secretly mobilize assassins to kill the general’s daughter in the inner prison.

Li Shuang fed the soldier her own blood, claiming it contained the venomous gu poison of Nanchang Mountain, compelling his obedience. She ordered him to send word to Qin Lan, thus setting the stage for this grand performance between the general and the emperor.

Li Shuang faked her death, creating the illusion of discord between the general and the emperor. When the prime minister let his guard down, Qin Lan exposed the soldier, revealing the poisoning plot. The prime minister was ultimately charged with ten crimes, including the murder of a military officer and deceiving the emperor, his faction purged to cleanse the court.

The news of Li Shuang’s death was spread to make the act convincing—and at the same time, it was Sima Yang’s way of letting her go.

At first, Li Shuang didn’t understand why Sima Yang had suddenly decided to release her. Even with her feigned death, it wouldn’t have been difficult for him, in his imperial authority, to assign her some title and bring her into the palace.

But on the day she left the capital alone, no one from the general’s household who knew of her ruse came to see her off. Surprisingly, it was Sima Yang who appeared, traveling incognito without any attendants.

The sky was overcast that day, the spring rain lingering endlessly. Dressed in a plain gray robe, Sima Yang looked like any ordinary nobleman, yet even without his imperial regalia, his sovereign bearing was unmistakable.

Their meeting was awkward.

Though they had collaborated to dismantle the prime minister’s faction, they hadn’t seen each other during that time. After faking her death, Li Shuang had been secretly hidden in the general’s residence, with all plans executed by the general and Qin Lan.

On the day of her "burial," Qin Lan told her the emperor had granted her leave. She had planned to follow Luo Teng north to the frontier after her own coffin was interred. But she hadn’t expected Jin An to chase her back from the border—nor had she anticipated that Sima Yang would foresee Jin An’s return and station so many Azure Dragon Guards there.

Her final arrow had allowed Jin An to escape, letting the future crown prince of the Western Rong slip away—a valuable bargaining chip lost to the Great Jin.

Now, standing before Sima Yang, one was a disloyal subject, the other an unjust ruler. No matter how they tried to conceal it, an unbridgeable distance lay between them.

"Your Majes—"

Sima Yang raised a hand to stop her. "I merely came to bid farewell to an old friend."

Li Shuang stiffened, abandoning formalities. She straightened her back and met his gaze directly.

In the court, Qin Lan had presented the witness who exposed the prime minister’s plot to poison Li Shuang. The emperor stood here now, but behind him, the first cold, silent purge of his reign was already underway.It wasn't hard to imagine how intense the power struggle between him and the General's Manor would become without Prime Minister Ji He to mediate.

But all of that had nothing to do with Li Shuang anymore.

"The Grand General has ordered Qin Lan not to see you off," Li Shuang led her horse forward while Sima Yang walked beside her, as if he were truly an old friend bidding farewell. "It seems he wants you to sever all ties with your past."

Li Shuang understood. Her father was telling her that Li Shuang was dead, so no one from the General's Manor would come to send her off. From now on, she would no longer be Li Shuang, and the future merits or faults of the General's Manor would have nothing to do with her.

It wasn't heartlessness—only this way could she truly begin a new life.

Li Shuang remained silent as Sima Yang continued, "I also promised the Grand General..." He paused. "Shuang'er, this really will be the last time we see each other."

At this moment, Li Shuang finally realized why Sima Yang had stopped trying to keep her by any means—her father had intervened.

To let his unfilial daughter leave, the old man must have engaged in another round of political maneuvering with the emperor.

The warm spring breeze carried a hint of moisture to her eyes. She halted, blinking away the dampness before turning to Sima Yang. "Your Majesty, please stop here."

Sima Yang indeed stopped, making no further demands.

"I never expected that man to be the black-armored warrior who once defended our Great Jin against the Western Rong in the northern frontier."

Li Shuang fell silent for a moment. The truth that Jin An was actually Ao Deng, the Western Rong prince, had already spread. On that day when Jin An had lost control, some soldier must have recognized him, leaking the secret.

"It's... a long story," Li Shuang didn't know how to explain.

Sima Yang shook his head. "I don't need to know the reason. But now that the news has gotten out, the Western Rong will soon learn of it. They won't accept a prince who killed two of their great generals as their future king."

Li Shuang silently acknowledged this. She didn't know how the Western Rong would treat Jin An, but she could imagine that ascending to the throne would be difficult—this was a stain he could never wash away.

"He isn't that important to me anymore."

Sima Yang gazed into the distance, where the clouds stretched endlessly.

Li Shuang glanced at him, her lips twitching slightly before she finally said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

She understood now why Sima Yang had come to see her off—he was here to set her mind at ease one last time. To tell her that Jin An no longer mattered to him, that if she wanted to go find him, she could. From now on, their paths would diverge, and they would each take care.

This was perhaps... the emperor's final kindness.

Li Shuang led her horse forward, the steady clop of hooves carrying her further and further away.

They both knew that from this moment on, Li Shuang of the General's Manor no longer existed in this world. The wild child who had once punched the emperor upon their first meeting, the spirited girl in their memories—she was gone.

Life had always been this way—some people faded away, while others returned.

And so, Li Shuang returned to Nanchang Mountain.

Wu Yin had brought Jin An back two days prior. His injuries were severe, leaving him unconscious. In his delirium, only one name escaped his lips—

"Li Shuang."Finally, Li Shuang was summoned, but he still hadn't woken up. Wu Yin said that if he didn't wake up today, he might never wake again. Fortunately, heaven showed mercy, and he eventually came back to life.

Li Shuang sat by his bedside, her thoughts tangled as she reflected on the past few days. She glanced at Jin An and saw that he had drifted back into a hazy sleep. She stood up to fetch some water, but the moment she moved slightly, Jin An immediately stirred awake.

"Where are you going?"

It was the first time someone had kept such a close watch on her. Li Shuang found it both amusing and exasperating. He was the one lying severely injured in bed, yet it felt as though she was the one who needed guarding.

"Just getting some water. Are you thirsty?"

"Will you feed it to me?"

What kind of question was that? As if he could sit up and drink by himself in his near-paralyzed state. Li Shuang nodded. "Of course."

"I am a little thirsty."

"..."

If she refused, would he suddenly claim he wasn't thirsty anymore?

Suppressing a laugh, Li Shuang poured some water and bent down to prop him up, carefully helping him drink half a cup. "More?" Jin An shook his head, so she set the cup aside. As she adjusted his blankets, she said,

"News came today—word has leaked out about how you killed two of the Western Rong generals. The new king of Western Rong tried to suppress it, but the court is already in an uproar. Your father, likely pressured, has ordered that you not be summoned back to Western Rong. Once you recover, it might be difficult for you to return as crown prince."

Jin An gave a quiet "Mm," acknowledging the news without any visible reaction.

Li Shuang smoothed his blankets and asked, "What are your plans after you recover?"

Jin An was silent for a long time. "We'll see," he finally replied, his tone somewhat cold. Li Shuang fell silent as well. "Get some more rest. My arrow struck too close to your heart. Even though you heal quickly, you still need plenty of rest."

Jin An obediently closed his eyes. After a long while, when Li Shuang thought he had fallen asleep again, he suddenly spoke. "Don't feel guilty. I know you did it to save me."

Li Shuang froze for a moment at his words. If the old Jin An had been childlike in his simplicity and stubbornness, this version of him now carried a sharper, more perceptive edge.

But he was different from before...

The next day, when Jin An woke, his condition had improved significantly from the day before. Emerging from his coma seemed to have restored his body's remarkable healing ability. In just one night, he was able to get out of bed and walk short distances.

Leaning against the wall, he made his way out of the room but didn't see Li Shuang anywhere. Upon asking, he learned she had gone to the back mountains to gather herbs.

One of the medicinal ingredients needed for his treatment grew on a steep cliff. Previously, Wu Yin had personally collected the herbs, but now that the supply was exhausted, someone had to retrieve more. With Wu Yin occupied by clan affairs, the task had fallen to Li Shuang.

The path to the cliff was treacherous and difficult. Jin An pushed forward, but halfway there, his strength gave out. He stopped to rest by the roadside, gazing into the distance. The sheer cliff face rose almost vertically, too far for him to make out whether anyone was up there. But he could imagine how dangerous it would be to gather herbs there—even with Wu Yin's exceptional lightness skill.

Li Shuang...After waiting for who knows how long, faint footsteps sounded from the path ahead. Jin An stood up and immediately spotted Li Shuang still at the far end of the road.

Her face was smudged with dirt, the sleeve of her arm torn by something unknown, and her hand bore a bloody, scraped wound.

Jin An’s gaze sharpened, and he strode forward at once.

“How did you get hurt?”

“Why are you here?”

The two spoke almost in unison. Li Shuang tugged carelessly at her tattered sleeve. “It rained a few days ago, and the rocks were slippery. I took a little fall—nothing serious.”

A simple fall wouldn’t have torn her clothes like that. She must have slipped down a cliff—how terrifying the scene must have been…

Jin An was silent for a long moment. “My injuries will heal on their own. You don’t need to gather herbs anymore.”

Li Shuang smiled. “I know. This wasn’t for you—it’s to repay the Five Spirits Sect’s favor.”

The medicine used to treat Jin An’s wounds had exhausted their hard-earned supply, so Li Shuang had gone to gather more to return the debt. But why should she be the one repaying favors for medicine that had been used to heal him?

“I’ll gather them from now on.”

“Focus on recovering first.”

Though Li Shuang said this, Jin An naturally took the herb basket from her shoulder and slung it over his own. His face was still pale, and Li Shuang reached to take it back. “It’s heavy. You can’t carry it right now.”

“Right now, I could carry you too.”

The words carried an ambiguous weight. Li Shuang froze, struck by a sense that this was how Jin An used to speak—yet not quite the same.

Wu Yin, having just finished handling clan affairs, stepped out of the meeting room and spotted Li Shuang and Jin An walking up the mountain together. Amused, he approached teasingly. “Oh? So now you don’t want to leave her anymore? Having lost her once, you’ve learned to cherish her?”

Li Shuang shot Wu Yin a glance. “He’s just bored from lying around too long.”

“I went to find you.”

The excuse Li Shuang had given Jin An was casually brushed aside by his own words.

Li Shuang was momentarily stunned, while Wu Yin clicked his tongue beside them, ready to tease them further. But Jin An unceremoniously shoved the herb basket into Wu Yin’s arms. “I’ll gather ten more baskets for you later. Tell me what you need—don’t trouble her.”

With that, he turned and headed back to his room.

Wu Yin watched Jin An’s retreating figure. “Tsk, tsk. So this is his temperament now? The memoryless version was easier to bully.”

Li Shuang, however, was puzzled. “What’s his condition now? The Jade Silkworm Gu doesn’t seem to affect him anymore, but he still…”

“Still remains loyal to you, right?”

Li Shuang nodded.

Wu Yin pondered for a moment. “The Jade Silkworm Gu alters the body, but it can’t completely change the person. Normally, it preserves their memories. So while every Jade Silkworm Gu servant is loyal to their master, their personalities remain distinct—retaining their original traits while serving their master. That’s how a proper Jade Silkworm Gu servant should be.”

Li Shuang was taken aback.

“So… the way he is now is how your Five Spirits Sect’s Jade Silkworm Gu servants were meant to be all along.”"Hmm." Wu Yin nodded. "Ever since you left South Changshan, I've been pondering. After he recalled his past memories, everything he experienced seemed like reliving the initial process of the Jade Silkworm Gu entering a human body—reintegrating with the Jade Silkworm Gu within him. All the initial struggles, chaos, followed by resistance, then the mental turmoil brought by past memories, until the current fusion and acceptance."

"So now... has he become a true Gu person?"

"He has become what he was meant to be."

Upon hearing this, Li Shuang felt an indescribable mix of emotions.

Who was Jin An now—Ao Deng or Jin An? Li Shuang couldn't distinguish clearly. What was even harder for her to answer was whether this was the form Jin An truly desired. Was this the life he truly wanted? She didn’t know and couldn’t answer.

That night, after dinner, Li Shuang sat on the cliff of the Five Spirits Sect, gazing at the distant starry sky. The wind by her ears was suddenly blocked, and when she turned, she saw Jin An had come looking for her.

"You should rest more."

"Being cooped up indoors isn’t rest."

Well, he had a point. Li Shuang nodded, casually picking up a nearby wine jar and taking a swig. She had drunk a bit too much, her cheeks slightly flushed, giving her a somewhat intoxicating appearance.

"Do you like drinking?"

"Not particularly. It’s just that in the general’s mansion and the military camp, I always had to maintain a proper demeanor and couldn’t indulge. Now that I’ve gained some freedom, I’m letting loose a little."

Jin An moved closer to Li Shuang. When his breath brushed against her, she instinctively stiffened, but he merely reached past her to grab another wine jar beside her. Tilting it back, he took a hearty gulp, just as she had done moments before.

"Your health..."

"Southern wine isn’t as strong as the northern kind." Jin An set the jar down. "You should try the wine from Xirong. It suits your temperament better."

Li Shuang’s words were cut short. Seeing his much-improved complexion, she didn’t bother lecturing him about taking care of himself. She chuckled and shook her head, not dwelling on the topic of wine. Instead, seizing the mention of Xirong, she asked, "From the looks of it, your injuries will heal in about ten days. Do you still plan to return to Xirong then?"

Jin An swayed the wine jar slightly, not answering immediately, as if weighing his words. He turned to look at Li Shuang. "And you?" His dark eyes reflected the starry sky. "Where do you plan to go?"

"Me?"

"No longer a general, leaving the general’s mansion, and not marrying your Great Jin emperor—what are your plans?"

"I suppose..." Li Shuang studied Jin An for a moment before lowering her eyes with a light laugh. "I’ll probably travel more, see the mountains and rivers, wander the world. Do all the things I couldn’t as a general."

"Hmm."

Jin An responded softly, his tone indifferent, offering no follow-up.

The mountain breeze carried their silence. When the wine jar was empty, Li Shuang stood up. "It’s getting chilly at night. I’ll head back to my room to sleep."

"Hmm."

True to form, Jin An didn’t call out to her again as she left.Li Shuang blew out the oil lamp in the room, sitting dazed in the darkness. When Jin An asked about her future plans, she had momentarily been at a loss for words. In her imagination, part of her future had always included Jin An.

But just now, looking into Jin An’s eyes and hearing his somewhat indifferent reply, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Wu Yin had said he had become a complete Gu person, that this was how a Gu person should be. But Li Shuang didn’t know what a Gu person was supposed to look like.

To her, Jin An was a person. Before, he had relied on her so much because his memories were incomplete—she had been his entire world, and without her, he couldn’t survive.

But now, Jin An was no longer that person. He could leave her, could choose not to depend on her. The reason he had returned to the capital upon hearing news of her death might have been due to the "Gu nature" within him. Under normal circumstances, everyone knew that Jin An’s previous obsession with her had been abnormal—it wasn’t love, nor even his own will.

No one would want to live a life of being "controlled."

Moreover, from what she could see now, Jin An in the past—when he was Ao Deng—had likely been a decisive, iron-willed man. Telling such a person that one day he would have to obey another for the rest of his life—how was that any different from locking him up, imprisoning him, turning him into a puppet?

Perhaps it would be better if she left before Jin An fully recovered. They could both bid farewell to this twisted affection.

This time, she was no longer the great general. Even if she died one day, no one would carry the news to his ears and disrupt his life. From then on, they would go their separate ways, each living their own complete lives, never disturbing each other again…

That would be for the best.

She didn’t rest that night. As dawn approached, she used the faint pre-dawn light seeping through the window to write a farewell letter for Wu Yin. Placing it on the table, she shouldered a simple bundle and quietly slipped out of the Five Spirits Sect.

Before descending the mountain, she glanced back at Jin An’s door.

It was slightly ajar—he must still be asleep inside. Li Shuang turned and made her way down the mountain.

She had been a general; in this life, she had dealt with countless partings, both in life and death. Though it was never something she had been good at.

The path down Nanchang Mountain was winding and rugged. She walked alone through the forest, the sun not yet fully risen, mist swirling along the road. After countless twists and turns, the path gradually leveled out, the dense woods left behind her. Yet, where the mountain trail met the official road, a figure stood with hands clasped behind his back.

He had been standing there for who knew how long—dew had already dampened his shoulders.

As if sensing her approach, he turned his head. On the road bathed in the morning light, the golden sunrise blurred his vision, making him narrow his eyes slightly. He gazed at her in silence.

"Let’s go."

Just two simple words, spoken so naturally, as if they had arranged to meet here.

Li Shuang was momentarily stunned.

"Go… where?"

"Anywhere. See the mountains and rivers, wander the world. Do all the things we never got to do before."

She could only stare at him blankly. "How did you know I…""I waited all night. If you don't leave today, I'll wait tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. You'll have to leave eventually, and I'll just keep waiting." Jin An extended his hand, as if pulling invisible strings that made Li Shuang instinctively walk toward the sunlit path.

She stopped before him, looking up: "You're not returning to Western Rong?"

"Didn't you say Western Rong won't take me back?"

"But you..." she hesitated, "Do you truly want this life? Are you really willing to stay with me?"

"Yes."

"What about the old you..."

"The old me is dead. Ao Deng died in that prison beyond the frontier." Jin An's voice turned momentarily cold before softening again, "The person you met is me. You gave me this name. I belong to you. I exist because of you."

He held Li Shuang's hand, gently kissing her fingertips, the soft touch sending tingles through them.

"I will always belong to you."

He gazed at her, his eyes a deep, night-like black, yet in that moment, Li Shuang seemed to see the man clad in black armor, with crimson eyes.

It was him. Only he would say such words.

"I am no longer a general, nor will I bear the name Li Shuang. Without identity, without a past... Are you truly willing to follow me in this endless wandering through the world's chaos?"

"Without you, the world's chaos would be true wandering."

Li Shuang lowered her head and chuckled softly. "Then let us go."

There was no need to dwell on who they once were. They were both people who had "died." This departure was a rebirth.

Li Shuang walked toward the main road, the morning sun paving their path, birdsong crisp in farewell. Her steps were light and unburdened. When she turned back, she saw the man behind her, his jade-like features softened by a smile as gentle as the mountain breeze and moonlight.