By nightfall, the wedding disaster that had shocked South Capital finally quieted down. The guests had departed from the Duan residence. The commander of the Imperial Guards had specially deployed a contingent to guard the estate and was conducting searches throughout South Capital.
Duan Xu knew they would never find his "bride."
And that was for the best.
The streets still hung with rows of red paper lanterns, and the Duan residence remained festively decorated—abruptly and absurdly celebratory, like a clown still smiling beneath its makeup. Duan Xu, wearing his wedding attire, entered his quarters in the residence, Hao Yue Residence. Red double-happiness characters were pasted everywhere, and several boxes of dowry sent from the Wang family were placed in the courtyard. The boxes had been opened.
A young woman wearing a veiled hat with hanging beaded curtains sat with her legs crossed beside the boxes, amid the festive red. A full moon hung high in the sky behind her. Moonlight and lamplight shone on her together, like the bewitching ghost from an opera verse.
She was indeed bewitching, and indeed a ghost.
He Simu met Duan Xu's gaze and smiled, saying, "Your esteemed wife's dowry is quite substantial. It would be a shame to return it to her family."
"I won't return it."
"You won't?"
"I have sworn to take her as my wife. Publicly, this dowry can naturally be kept. Privately, I will give it to Suyi for her future life outside."
Duan Xu spoke straightforwardly.
He Simu jumped down from the edge of the box, crossed her arms, and walked to Duan Xu, her red dress swaying across the ground. She in her triple-layered rust-red robes and Duan Xu in his wedding attire, standing in the brightly decorated courtyard filled with double-happiness symbols, looked like a real married couple.
He Simu looked into Duan Xu's eyes, and Duan Xu lowered his head to look at her, his jet-black eyes gleaming with light. She thought she had many questions to ask him—about his collaboration with He Jia Feng Yi, about the farce he had orchestrated, about the deeper meaning behind his invitation. It seemed that from the day she met him, she had been full of questions about him.
Did she have so many questions about others?
It seemed not.
After gazing at Duan Xu for a moment, He Simu suddenly laughed softly and shook her head. "Little Fox Duan, what if I hadn't come to find you today? You've lost this time—what will you wager next time?"
Those questions were no longer necessary to ask; she already knew the answers.
In Yu Zhou City, she had painted a beautiful future for him away from her, like placing an exquisite glass lantern in his hands, telling him to use it to light his way toward the life everyone desired, the happiness he deserved.
Then he had decisively thrown the lantern away, shattering it, smiling at her as if to say, "What next?"
What other reasons did she have? Whatever she had, he would destroy it before her eyes.
Could she bear it?
Just as he had said on the day they formed their bond, he bet that she couldn't bear it.
Duan Xu also smiled and said, "If I've lost the bet, then I've lost. I'll think about what to bet next time. But what's important is that you came to find me."
He appeared calm and nonchalant, but his hands trembled involuntarily beneath his sleeves from nervousness.
"I came to find you to bring a wedding gift. Having never attended a wedding, I didn't know what to give and was truly troubled for a long time. After much thought, I decided to simply come and ask you directly—what do you want, what would make you happy?"
He Simu spoke calmly, appearing as composed as ever. In Duan Xu's eyes, in the black and white dimness, she was like a black tourmaline bead—beautiful and profound, without warmth.
Duan Xu pressed his lips together, then reached out his index finger, stopping at her lapel. From his fingertip came the sensation of her heartbeat—the heartbeat she had gained through borrowing his sense of color.
"I want you."
He Simu looked at him quietly.
After a pause, Duan Xu laughed softly, as if joking. "I wonder if I have the honor of becoming the twenty-third grave on the back mountain of Virtual Life Mountain?"
He spoke lightly, but his voice was hoarse from tension.
He Simu grasped his finger pressed against her lapel and asked, "Are you willing?"
She had asked him this question on Virtual Life Mountain as well, but he hadn't answered then.
This time, Duan Xu's gaze was crystal clear. Amid dizzying, fascinating colors, he smiled frankly yet helplessly. "I'm not willing. No matter how I think about it, I'm still not willing."
"But no matter how I think about it, although I'm not willing, I am agreeable."
He Simu lowered her eyes and then raised them again, holding his slightly trembling hand, their fingers intertwined. After a silence that seemed to span eons, she spoke.
"Alright, I accept."
Duan Xu was momentarily stunned.
He Simu smiled, drew close to him, stood on tiptoe, and placed a kiss on his cheek, repeating, "I accept."
"I said I accept, why are you still so nervous? Your fingers are stiff—relax and breathe properly. As expected of Little Fox Duan, daring to ask for the Ghost King as a gift. I…"
Before she could finish, she was pulled with great force. Duan Xu, grasping her hand, drew her into his arms, cradled the back of her head, and lowered his head to kiss her lips. It was an impatient kiss, like sweet rain after a long drought, pouring into it anxiety, insecurity, joy, fear, and love. He closed his eyes and held her tightly, deeply intertwining her, lips and teeth together, as if through this kiss they could exchange blood and bone, becoming one.
He had gambled for too long, losing again and again, empty-handed and red-eyed yet pretending to be at ease, pretending he could make a comeback at any time, when in fact he had long been left with no alternatives.
He had not left himself any room to retreat, going all out each time.
He Simu's wrist broke free from his grasp, and in that moment, he thought he was about to be pushed away, causing him to anxiously open his eyes.
In his vision appeared He Simu's eyes—beautiful phoenix eyes with a smile, reflecting the apprehension in his own. Her pale, slender hand rose and rested on his shoulder, encircling his neck, tightening.
She stood on tiptoe to deepen the kiss, pressing her body tightly against his, offering her lips and tongue, and closing her eyes.
No need for anxiety, no need for worry.
When the Ghost King says she gives herself to you, she means it. You step forward without retreat, and she too steps forward without retreat.
You hold her tight, and she kisses you.
You love her for a lifetime, and in your lifetime, her eyes will see only you.
Duan Xu's chest rose and fell rapidly. His kisses moved from her lips upward, kissing her eyes, kissing her forehead.
He Simu held his neck, looking up at him, and said, "Standing on tiptoe for so long is a bit tiring."
Duan Xu laughed softly as if joking. "Shall we go to the room? This is… my wedding night, after all."
He Simu's gaze moved inch by inch down his face. She raised her hand to touch his red hair ribbon, then let it go, caressing the lapel of his wedding attire embroidered with the four-part harmony pattern. Then she looked up at him and said, "Yes."
Duan Xu paused, carefully discerning the meaning in her words. Between breaths, he said softly, "You mean…"
He Simu pecked him once, the answer self-evident.
Duan Xu's breath caught. He lifted He Simu by the waist, and she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning against his chest. He walked toward the room, kicked open the door, and then turned back to close it, pinning her against it as he kissed her. Between kisses, he said, "Simu, I have another talisman…"
"…Feng Yi is really… generous."
"Take my sense of touch too, Simu."
He Simu opened her eyes. She saw Duan Xu take out a turmeric-colored paper inscribed with talismanic writing from his bosom. He smiled amid the overwhelming red in the room, so brilliantly it dazzled. He said, "I'll have many more chances, many, many more chances in the future, but this time, I want you to feel me."
He hoped she would remember him.
He Simu looked at the talisman in his hand, tilted her head, and smiled. "Alright, as you wish."
The talisman turned to ashes in Duan Xu's hand in an instant.
At that moment, He Simu felt the body pressed tightly against hers become incredibly hot—the smooth, lustrous silk of his wedding attire, his soft, delicate skin. He stared at her, suddenly took her hand, and kissed her fingertips.
He kissed each finger in turn, from fingertip to base, from thumb to little finger. Finally, he smiled softly and took her middle finger—the heart-fire finger—into his mouth.
He Simu began to tremble finely. This strange, wet sensation suddenly made her lose her composure, as if her limbs were no longer her own, as if what flowed through her body was not blood but perhaps magma.
Duan Xu picked her up and placed her on the wedding quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks, kissing her deeply again. The feeling was vastly different from before—that sticky and lingering, warm and entangled, burning heat transmitted from one person to her, like a fire burning her, so hot that she didn't know where to put her fingers.
He Simu's fingers tightly gripped Duan Xu's back. She dazedly asked, "What is… this?"
Duan Xu pressed his forehead against hers and said, "This is desire, Simu, my liege."
Your desire.
"You want me," he said softly, his breath brushing her face, tantalizingly teasing her. Kissing her, he said, "Just as I want you."
He Simu opened her eyes. She saw her young man with redness in his eyes, his whole body suffused with red as if burning, his gaze dreamy and seductive. He looked barely conscious, his eyes dispersed with light, like when he had been covered in blood before, but deeply reflecting her.
Seeing her open her eyes, he took her hand and kissed her palm.
"Like a dream… Simu…" he said softly. "I've never had such a good dream."
He Simu's eyes fluttered. She raised her head to kiss him, to kiss him deeply, sighing, "In your lifetime, you can have hundreds more such beautiful dreams."
His heart was beating fast, very rapidly, and intensely—completely different from the heartbeat she had first felt.
At this moment, this heart was hers, beating for her.
She held the skull she loved most in the world, kissed the eyes she loved most, and whispered against his ear, "Duan Xu, I am real, I won't leave, be gentle."
The young man held her tightly, greedily breathing in her scent, his pale fingers tightening in her disheveled black hair.
"Simu…" Duan Xu called softly.
This heart is not mine; it yearns for you.
Let you pluck it and never return it.
---
When Duan Xu woke, the night breeze was blowing the gauze curtains, and the moonlight was quiet. The previous passion flashed before his eyes, causing him to tense his body, doubting it was a dream—but then relaxing when he saw the young woman lying on his chest.
As before, when she fell deeply asleep, she would find something to hold onto. At this moment, she was tightly hugging his waist, burying her face in his chest, exposing her slender neck and the kiss marks upon it.
Duan Xu embraced her shoulders, lightly stroking her neck. She shrugged her shoulders and buried her head deeper.
He had indeed been impatient, and without the sense of touch, had not known how to be gentle, hurting her. Privately, though, he wanted it to hurt a little, to be remembered more deeply, so she wouldn't easily forget him.
Duan Xu brushed aside the long hair covering her cheek and found what seemed to be dark, blood-like marks on her face. His heart skipped a beat, and he reached out to gently wipe them away, finding no wounds. Recalling carefully, he remembered: she had bitten him—it was his blood.
Perhaps he had been too rough with her, or perhaps the sensation of desire was too intense; she had bitten his shoulder hard enough to draw blood.
When she saw blood, she became even more excited, not loosening her bite at all.
Duan Xu laughed softly with a sigh, stroking her hair, and messing up the smooth strands.
Evil ghosts are born from desire, eternally suffering from hunger, eating people to alleviate it.
He Simu was also an evil ghost, born as such, not knowing what her desire truly was. Jiang Ai had said that sometimes he felt He Simu envied them because each evil ghost had a clear purpose in this world, knowing why they lived and why they died.
Although most of these obsessions were not good things, at least they knew.
He Simu didn't know; her path was shrouded in mist.
Duan Xu kissed her forehead, gently patting her back. If her hunger was because she had never lived in the world, if her greed was to perceive this world, then he would strive to help her achieve that.
"If you like to bite, then bite. You want my five senses, and I'll give them to you."
Willing to feed you with my flesh and blood, to free you from hunger, to comfort your coldness.
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