Chen Ying stared at the scene before him. The vast sky stretched over the boundless grassland, with the blood-red setting sun hanging at the horizon, its reflection dancing in the lake like another sun. Han Lingqiu and Duan Xu had just demonstrated an extraordinarily breathtaking duel. He couldn't hear what they said to each other, but now Han Lingqiu had released Duan Xu, sank slowly to his knees, and buried his face in his hands, weeping.
Chen Ying had never seen Brother Han cry before. In his impression, Han Lingqiu had always been a somewhat taciturn, steadfast, and earnest senior with a tall figure that seemed never to crumble.
But now, bathed in the red glow of sunset, Han Lingqiu's entire body trembled—as if the gloom of the past half month had finally found an outlet, gushing forth and overwhelming him completely.
Just as Chen Ying was about to ask what was happening, he suddenly sensed someone beside him. He turned in surprise to see He Simu. Dressed in red with her hands behind her back, she studied the scene intently. The sunlight fell on her pale face, making her seem to burn with the intensity of the sunset.
"Sister Xiaoxiao? When did you arrive?"
He Simu continued watching the two men. "Neither early nor late."
Duan Xu crouched down to support Han Lingqiu's shoulders. Han Lingqiu looked up at him, and Duan Xu's eyes curved into a smile—just as they had at Tian Zhixiao, just as they had when he was still Han Lingqiu's general—smiling lightly as if nothing in the world could truly burden him.
"You're no longer who you were in the past. If you were, you would have killed me without hesitation just now. Moreover, you've learned bone contraction techniques; that prison couldn't have held you, yet you never tried to escape in these past two weeks."
Han Lingqiu's face was a mess from crying. He looked at Duan Xu for a moment, then shook his head with a bitter smile.
He was no longer the person from Tian Zhixiao, but he wasn't Han Lingqiu anymore either. He hadn't figured things out yet, and he didn't know how long it would take to do so.
Duan Xu remained silent for a moment, then patted his shoulder. "Lingqiu, can you promise me that you will never go to Danzhi, never serve Danzhi?"
Han Lingqiu slowly nodded, saying solemnly, "Yes."
Duan Xu stood up. "Then I won't force you to stay anymore. You may go. We're only in our early twenties; life is still long, with plenty of time to figure things out. Lingqiu, don't be afraid, take it slowly."
He extended his hand to Han Lingqiu. "Stand up."
Han Lingqiu's eyes flickered as countless memories rushed chaotically through his mind, finally settling on this moment—Duan Xu in the blood-red sunset. He realized that in his twenty-some years of life, this was the moment when he envied Duan Xu the most.
He reached out to grasp Duan Xu's hand, then was pulled to his feet. Duan Xu said to him—Goodbye, Han Lingqiu.
He replied—Thank you, take care, Commander Duan.
Han Lingqiu left, walking further and further away into the sunset, becoming a small dot before disappearing completely, taking nothing with him.
Back to the tent while supporting Duan Xu, Chen Ying kept hesitating to speak. He very much wanted to ask what had happened between Han Lingqiu and Duan Xu but felt the timing was wrong, and his Third Brother didn't seem willing to discuss it.
Moreover, He Simu was nearby with a cold expression, not saying a word, making Chen Ying feel a chill in the air. He quickly slipped away after helping Duan Xu back to his tent.
Duan Xu lit the lamp and sighed that raising a little brother wasn't comforting at all—he was still injured, yet his brother didn't even help bandage him before leaving. He pushed the medicine and bandages toward He Simu with a grin. "Ghost King, you've arrived at just the right time. Please help me."
He Simu gave a cold laugh, pushed him to sit on the bed, and skillfully unbuttoned his clothes. She took the bandages and medicine to clean his wounds. While cleaning, she said, "If he had truly lost control and struck your vital points, what would you have done?"
"That wouldn't happen. I have good fortune in the face of danger, and besides, I know that Lingqiu… Ouch! Be gentle, Simu!" Duan Xu hissed in pain.
He Simu raised her eyes to look at him. "This bad habit of yours—risking your life—hasn't changed at all over the years. It was the same when you infiltrated the enemy camp last time. Little Fox Duan, didn't I tell you to call me when you encounter danger? Have you forgotten?"
Duan Xu placed his hand over hers, blinking earnestly. "Are you that worried about me?"
He Simu smiled gently. She leaned closer to Duan Xu, looking into his eyes, and said slowly, "Don't try to trick me by acting pitiful. Besides that, I want to ask you, what's wrong with your body?"
Duan Xu's eyes flickered, and he asked innocently, "What do you mean, what's wrong?"
"Why did you lose to Han Lingqiu?"
"He improved, and I regressed. Plus, I was going easy on him."
"Duan. Shun. Xi." He Simu threatened, calling out his full name. She had no patience to dance around the issue with him anymore and directly revealed the reason he didn't want to admit: "Your five senses are deteriorating."
Duan Xu couldn't help but grip the bedsheets tightly. Knowing he couldn't hide it from He Simu, he admitted frankly, "A little bit."
"When did it start?"
"Well… I don't remember. It's not serious. My senses were originally much more acute than normal people's, so even with some deterioration, they're just the same as everyone else's. Besides, I'm now the commander of an army; I wasn't planning on relying on martial prowess to do unconventional things anyway, so it doesn't affect anything." Duan Xu spoke dismissively.
He Simu looked at Duan Xu suspiciously, turning her gaze away after a long moment. "The curse binding us together is ultimately harming your body."
Duan Xu couldn't see her expression, but he heard the emotional fluctuation in her voice—guilt, worry, something fragile beneath her usual composure. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist to comfort her. "In the first year we knew each other, we exchanged it three times, and in the three years after that, only five more times. That's few enough. Simu, people naturally age; all our senses deteriorate with time—it's normal. If you're finding fault with me now, what will happen when I'm old? 'If one serves with beauty when beauty fades, so does love'…"
He Simu pushed him down onto the bed. The military cot was very hard, and Duan Xu cried out in pain. She looked down at him from above, narrowing her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."
Duan Xu looked at her for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"You want to argue with an injured patient?"
He Simu rubbed her temples. She pointed at Duan Xu, demanding, "Is your body not a problem?"
"No, no it's not. Don't worry. By the way, you've been coming to see me from time to time lately. Isn't the Ghost Realm busy?"
He Simu was silent for a moment. She turned and lay down beside Duan Xu, using his arm as a pillow.
"It's a complete mess."
Duan Xu thought for a moment. "Oh, so you're deliberately staying away from the Ghost Realm to let it become even more chaotic?"
He Simu seemed lost in thought. She turned to face Duan Xu, earnestly looking into his bright eyes—those eyes she loved the most.
"Duan Xu, have you reached some kind of resolution with Tian Zhixiao?"
"I suppose so."
"How does it feel?"
"Very liberating, like I can walk a long road ahead." Duan Xu lowered his head to kiss He Simu's forehead. "Together with you."
He Simu buried her head against Duan Xu's chest and said, as if sighing, "Sleep now, I'll stay with you. Tomorrow you must see a doctor and take medicine."
Duan Xu nodded, embracing her as tightly as he could without aggravating his wounds. He sensed that He Simu seemed to have something weighing on her mind. She didn't like to talk about her concerns, but whenever things were unpleasant in the Ghost Realm, she would frequently come to find him.
He considered this a form of dependence and secretly rejoiced in it.
Recently, the Ghost Realm had indeed been thrown into chaos due to the appearance of Bai San Xing. All the ghosts were searching for him, yet no one could find him.
Qu Province was under Great Liang's jurisdiction in the human realm, but in the Ghost Realm, it was Jiang Ai's territory. And that rebel Bai San Xing, whom the Ghost King had ordered apprehended, was now sitting in Jiang Ai's mansion in Qu Province, drinking wine.
He appeared to be a handsome man in his thirties. Like all malevolent ghosts, his skin was pale and his body cold, but he was even paler than ordinary evil spirits. His hair and eyelashes were white, making him look as if he were sculpted from snow. When he extended his arm, scars were visible on it.
In truth, he resembled a cracked porcelain vessel even more than Duan Xu did.
"What you've stolen this time is my hundred-year-old Dream of Immortality wine. There isn't a second jar like it in the world—it's priceless." Jiang Ai entered the courtyard and noticed the wine in Bai San Xing's hand, her face showing displeasure.
Bai San Xing raised an eyebrow, looking at her while swirling the wine jar. "What's the difference between drinking hundred-year-old wine and water? Jiang Ai, after more than three hundred years, why are you still making these meaningless collections?"
He remained the same as he had been three hundred years ago—always criticizing all her interests, labeling them as "meaningless." As Bai San Xing was about to take another sip, the wine jar floated into the air. Jiang Ai held her right hand up. "Then don't drink it."
Bai San Xing's gaze turned cold as he stared at Jiang Ai. The wine jar trembled between them, pulled back and forth by their spiritual powers. A small red bell tied to the white bracelet on Jiang Ai's wrist suddenly rang softly.
It was just a faint sound, but Bai San Xing was struck as if by lightning. He groaned, clutching his forehead, and the wine jar flew to Jiang Ai's side. Jiang Ai caressed her bracelet with satisfaction. "Don't forget, you cannot resist me now."
Bai San Xing glared at her through clenched teeth.
"What's wrong, feeling rebellious? Who was it that imprisoned me for two hundred years, relying on his stronger spiritual power? What goes around comes around—now you finally understand how I felt back then?"
"I was locked in the Nine-Palace Maze Prison for three hundred years! Isn't three hundred years enough? What more do you want?"
Jiang Ai's smile became hollow. She tilted her chin slightly. "Indeed, what more could there be between us?"
After a pause, she waved toward the right side of the courtyard. The liquid from the wine jar flew like a blade, and a figure suddenly appeared, dodging the water blade. Jiang Ai looked at that malevolent ghost and chuckled. "Right Chancellor, since you're already here, why not show yourself?"
Yan Ke stood on the courtyard wall, coldly observing the two of them.
As soon as Bai San Xing saw Yan Ke, towering rage surged in his eyes. Shouting "You dare show your face before me," he engaged Yan Ke in combat amid flashing white light, clearly intent on annihilating him. This might have been possible three hundred years ago, but Bai San Xing's spiritual power had been worn down during his three centuries in the Nine-Palace Maze Prison; he was no longer what he once had been.
Jiang Ai raised her hand, and as the bell rang softly, she called out, "Bai San Xing, come back."
As if seized by the throat, Bai San Xing vanished and reappeared behind Jiang Ai, unable to move.
Yan Ke carefully examined everything that had transpired. "It was you who secretly preserved Bai San Xing's soul candle back then, and now you've awakened him and found a way to control him. Left Chancellor, what exactly are you planning to do?"
"What I want to do—what does that have to do with the Right Chancellor? Since the Right Chancellor is here, I'd like to ask: if the King were to learn that her father—the former Ghost King—died at your hands, what would become of you?"
Yan Ke's gaze suddenly intensified with lethal focus.
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