These past days, Ni Su hadn’t slept well once. Any chaotic sounds would keep her awake all night. Outside remained noisy even now—this isolated city standing upon the plains was struggling desperately to survive. No one in the city could sleep well. Yet at this moment, gripping Xu Hexue’s wrist, Ni Su felt very sleepy.

She leaned against his embrace, eyes half-open, calling, “Xu Ziling.”

“Mm?”

“My hair—help me take it down. It’s not very comfortable.”

She said.

Xu Hexue lowered his eyelids, reaching out to remove the white jade hairpin from her hair. With one hand he loosened her hair bun, carefully arranging her hair with extremely gentle movements, unwilling to cause her pain.

“What are you thinking about when you don’t speak?”

“Thinking that you should cherish yourself more and not fall ill again.”

“That might be a bit difficult. How can a person not get sick?”

Her voice carried drowsiness yet also a hint of laughter. “But if you return to the heavens, will you be able to protect me?”

In heaven there were no deities, only stars like him.

“I’m sorry.”

Xu Hexue finally said after a long while.

“Why apologize?”

“I can’t return.”

He simply held her like this, motionless, like piled ice and snow, gazing at her with cold, desolate eyes. “I cannot protect you from heaven, but wherever I may be, I will pray for you.”

“Praying that you remain free of illness and disaster, living at ease all your life.”

Ni Su’s head buried in his embrace, her eyelids inexplicably dampening, yet her voice still sounded quite ordinary. “If you won’t be a star, then what will you be?”

Not entering the nine heavens, not going to the Underworld—then where could he find shelter?

Xu Hexue was quiet for a while before saying, “The Yongzhou military report from sixteen years ago clearly stated that Miao Tianning died in battle defending Yongzhou City. The barbarian general who engaged him at that time was precisely Yelu Zhen, yet Yelu Zhen seems unaware that Miao Tianning is already dead.”

“So you suspect he died at the hands of his own people.”

Ni Su continued his thought. “The reinforcements that came to Yongzhou’s aid? Tan Guangwen, who sixteen years ago was supposed to coordinate with you but never received your military orders?”

Sixteen years ago, Tan Guangwen was still a general of the Yongping Army.

At that time, like other commanders leading border prefecture troops, he answered to General Yujie, Xu Hexue.

Not long after Xu Hexue led troops from Juhan Pass toward Mushen Mountain, Yongzhou privately withdrew half its garrison to reinforce Jianchi Prefecture, encountering barbarian forces en route and suffering total annihilation.

But this wasn’t from Great Qi’s military reports—it came from Yang Tianzhe’s account, from the Danqiu Nanyan tribe’s military reports. Great Qi’s Yongzhou military report from sixteen years ago made no mention of reinforcing Jianchi Prefecture, instead counting the deaths of Yongzhou troops who died en route to Jianchi Prefecture among the casualties of Yongzhou’s defensive battle, reporting it to the court.

Yang Ming died, Miao Tianning died, the Yongzhou garrison defending the city all died. Xu Hexue had also asked Shen Tongchuan—the Jianchi Prefecture Prefect from those years had long since died suddenly. For these sixteen years, no one knew Yongzhou had once sent reinforcements to Jianchi Prefecture.

“Whether it’s Tan Guangwen can only be answered once he arrives in Yongzhou.” Xu Hexue raised his eyes, looking toward the lamp flame’s dancing light. “But regarding that battle defending Yongzhou back then, I should first ask Yelu Zhen.”

Miao Tianning’s death very likely connected to the truth behind the Jing’an Army’s unjust condemnation. Ni Su’s heart jumped. She almost slowed her breathing. “If you find that person, what will you do?”

If he found the chief culprit who caused him to die by slow slicing, who caused thirty thousand Jing’an Army soldiers to die miserably at Mushen Mountain—what would he do?

Cold wind made the felt curtain ripple slightly. The two strands of hair at Xu Hexue’s temples lifted gently. He lowered his eyes, gazing at her jet-black long hair. “Kill him with my own hands.”

Why would personally slaying his enemy mean he could never return?

Ni Su trembled, her fingers almost shaking as she clutched his robe tightly. “Could it be that you plan to use magic arts to kill someone?”

Xu Hexue didn’t refute. “Only thus can I use this person’s life to dissolve the vengeful resentment of the Jing’an Army’s wronged spirits.”

He was a ghost yet didn’t belong to the Underworld. Those he killed would have their soul fires scattered in the mortal world for several years before entering the Underworld. But he needed to quickly use the soul fire of that past culprit to grant liberation to the wronged souls in the Underworld’s pagoda.

“My teacher died for me. I don’t want fellow disciples to offend the Emperor’s dignity because of his dying words and die without a burial place.” Xu Hexue spoke to her with extreme calm. “The winter clothes you burned for me at Great Bell Temple were a gift from an old friend. I haven’t told you yet—his name is Zhao Yi, courtesy name Yonggeng. He’s the current Prince Jia. In our youth we were close friends, true confidants. Though he’s a prince, he’s not favored by the Emperor. For as many years as he’s been in the palace, he’s suffered for that many years. Though I’m dead, I still know the preciousness of life. I’m unwilling to implicate my fellow disciples, nor am I willing to implicate Yonggeng.”

“If they live, they can still hope to clear the jade firmament. But the departed souls of the Jing’an Army trapped in the pagoda cannot wait any longer. If they cannot cross the Waters of Resentment soon, they’ll forever lose the chance for reincarnation, able only to transform into resentful qi, wandering the Underworld.”

Only by using magic arts could he prevent soul fires from instantly scattering, difficult to gather again.

But the problem was, whenever he used magic arts in the mortal world, the punishments he suffered in life would be inflicted upon him again. Exchanging self-harm for a transaction with the Heavenly Dao—his current spirit body would ultimately be unable to bear it.

Xu Hexue looked at his robe wrinkled where she gripped it. “Ni Su, having you accompany me through this danger in Yongzhou already fills me with remorse. I also want you to live better, to become a good physician, to complete the medical text with your elder brother.”

A dead person was consuming his own broken soul to avenge and clear the grievances of thirty thousand heroic souls trapped in the pagoda.

Ni Su realized that from the very beginning, he had returned to the mortal world with the intention of self-destruction.

The current Emperor could return justice to her elder brother, but could hardly return justice to Xu Hexue and the thirty thousand Jing’an Army soldiers. This involved matters of state, the Emperor’s dignity.

Many were implicated. Whoever they were, they would do everything to prevent reopening this case. No one was willing to admit before the people of the realm that sixteen years ago, the traitorous minister the Emperor ordered executed was actually innocent and completely loyal.

This path was too difficult.

Yet he was still willing to walk it alone, even if it meant eternal damnation.

He wouldn’t burden anyone, much less burden Ni Su.

Ni Su had long known he couldn’t use magic arts to kill in the mortal world. That wasn’t an ability belonging to the mortal world, nor one belonging to the Underworld.

But what if he used it anyway?

Wouldn’t that mean there would be no place for him, whether in heaven or on earth?

“Why at a time like this are you still thinking about my medical text?” Her voice couldn’t suppress a catch of emotion. She refused to lift her head from his embrace. “What about yourself? Why don’t you hope for something better for yourself?”

“I hope for your wellbeing.”

He said.

Ni Su could almost no longer suppress the soreness at the tip of her nose. Yet she tried hard to steady her voice. “It’s not the final moment yet. Xu Ziling, let’s not think this way first, all right?”

“All right.”

Xu Hexue supported her shoulders, making her raise her head. He used his fingertips to wipe away the teardrops beneath her eyelids. “You’re still sick. Don’t cry.”

He helped Ni Su lie down, tucking the quilt corners around her, wrapping her entire person in the thick cotton quilt with only her head exposed, her jet-black long hair spread out, watching him with tear-filled eyes.

“Actually,”

Seeing she refused to close her eyes and sleep, Xu Hexue placed both hands on his knees. “If possible, I also don’t wish to reach that step.”

“Yonggeng and I once went to Que County’s Great Bell Temple in our youth, but now I only remember this one thing—I can’t recall what Que County was like. When I first returned to the mortal world and followed by your side, I didn’t properly look at Que County. Thinking of it now, there’s some regret. Ni Su, will you tell me about it?”

“I don’t want to.”

Ni Su hid her entire head under the quilt, yet still tightly gripped his hand. “I want you to go back with me. When the time comes, you’ll know.”

She closed her eyes tightly.

Xu Hexue didn’t pull his hand free. He only silently watched the small mound bulging beneath the quilt, watching her hand. After a long while, he gently clasped it in return.

He sat almost motionless for half the night. The lamp candles in the felt tent burned out. Hearing horn sounds ring out and the defenders’ hoarse shouts, he immediately opened his eyes, placed her hand inside the cotton quilt, then stood and walked out.

Qingqiong had been squatting outside for a while. Through the felt curtain he’d seen the two of them holding hands—one lying asleep, one just sitting there—so he hadn’t gone in.

“The barbarians have come again.”

Qingqiong looked toward the city wall where defending soldiers were running back and forth. “General Xu, I saw you secretly embracing Miss Ni.”

Just when the sky wasn’t yet so bright, when there was still a bit of light in the felt tent, Qingqiong had lifted the felt curtain to peek inside and happened to see Xu Hexue bending down, very gently embracing the sleeping woman.

He’d only glanced once before turning to squat here playing with tree branches.

“Mm.”

Before coming out, Xu Hexue had already wrapped his long scarf. The pair of eyes exposed outside were cool and calm.

Qingqiong immediately looked at him, somewhat stunned.

As if he hadn’t expected Xu Hexue’s frankness.

But thinking it over, Qingqiong realized Xu Hexue had never concealed anything from him. He had always been so frank. Only when facing Ni Su did he show such restraint and caution.

“Young Master Ni!”

Duan Rong led soldiers hurrying over. Seeing him, he called out.

The sky hadn’t yet fully brightened. Xu Hexue also held no lamp lit by Ni Su. He turned toward the sound but couldn’t see Duan Rong’s features clearly.

“Tianju Mountain has fallen!”

Duan Rong ran over panting.

“Has that iron cable been cut?”

Xu Hexue wasn’t surprised. Given Yelu Zhen’s method of piling up human lives, taking Tianju Mountain was only a matter of time.

“Already severed, but this time we at least managed to bring back some soldiers, plus people who came from Zezhou!” Duan Rong said.

Previously when Shi Monu feinted an attack on Tianju Mountain, Wei Dechang had promptly cut the iron cable leading from Tianju Mountain to the rear of Yongzhou City. After Shi Monu withdrew with injuries, they’d repaired that cable.

Only now, they ultimately had to sever that route again.

“People from Zezhou?”

Xu Hexue suddenly heard rapid footsteps approaching. Someone was calling “Minister Zhou.” He couldn’t help looking toward not far behind Duan Rong.

A dark black silhouette—he couldn’t make out the outline clearly.

Beneath the dim gray sky, someone suddenly lifted the curtain of the felt tent. Zhou Ting instinctively looked over. It was a woman wearing a purple-white robe and skirt, a white jade hairpin holding up her hair.

His pupils contracted slightly.

That was—Ni Su?

Zhou Ting saw her look around anxiously, then her gaze fixed as she walked several steps closer to a person.

It was a tall, slender young man.

Face covered with a long scarf, wearing snow-white robes stained with mottled bloodstains, the cold morning wind making his sleeves flutter.

That fabric—he had personally seen it before.

“It’s the Deputy Envoy of the Yinye Bureau.”

Duan Rong turned his head, just happening to see Zhou Ting stopped not far away. “That’s the one—Zhou Ting, Minister Zhou.”