After Awoerqi’s death, the battlefield situation changed dramatically. He had become entangled in the succession dispute of Danzhi, and with his powerful support gone, the Thirteenth Prince suddenly lost his backing and rashly attempted to force a coup.

The Danzhi royal court fell into chaos. The Sixth Prince urgently summoned his supporter Feng Lai back to Danzhi, ostensibly to save the throne but actually to seize the right of succession. Feng Lai, who had been struggling without progress on the Yu Province battlefield and whose supplies and reinforcements had been cut off by Duan Xu, immediately concentrated his forces to create an opening in Liang Province, crossed the river, and withdrew his troops.

Although Great Liang’s reinforcement troops had already been stationed in Liang Province, neither Xia Qing Sheng, who led the remaining thirty thousand Tabai Army, nor the later troops insisted on blocking their retreat completely. As the saying goes, a surrounded army must have a gap—better not to force the enemy into a desperate last stand.

However, harassment along the way was inevitable. When the Huqi people were withdrawing their troops across the river, Xia Qing Sheng staged an ambush that sent countless enemy soldiers to their deaths in the raging border waters. By the time the enemy reached Shuo Province, they were once again intercepted by Duan Xu’s garrison troops. Though they suffered significant losses, they had no time to deal with this and temporarily abandoned the entire Shuo Province.

This time, the reinforcements arrived promptly. At General Qin’s command, Xu Ying and the three armies crossed the river and advanced into Shuo Province, taking control of the entire region.

As they say, pull one hair and the whole body moves. What Duan Xu had done on New Year’s Eve of the eleventh year of Tianyuan became the key to turning the tide of battle. Duan Xu, who should have been the greatest hero, spent these days in remarkable tranquility, no longer in the frenzied state of playing whack-a-mole like before, because—his injuries were severe, and any more exertion would cost him his life.

While recovering, Duan Xu handed over the defense of Shuo Prefecture to Wu Sheng Liu and spent his days writing letters in all directions: sometimes instructing Xia Qing Sheng in Liang Province about naval battle precautions, sometimes writing battle reports to General Qin, sometimes composing memorials to the court, and sometimes writing family letters, as if he had transformed from a military commander back into a civil official. He Simu got to witness Duan Xu’s elegant literary style, as he skillfully cleared himself of all suspicious points, occasionally inserting metaphors and subtly displaying his literary talent.

In the Ghost Realm, if a ghost had submitted such a memorial to He Simu, it would likely have been sent back with instructions to straighten his tongue and speak plainly—without all those pretentious flourishes.

Another person recovering from injuries was the real Lin boss—Fifteen had not killed him to learn his mannerisms and behavior but had imprisoned him instead. Wu Sheng Liu searched the entire city before finding Lin Jun. He was barely clinging to life, but after much effort, his survival was no longer in danger. When he regained consciousness and spoke, He Simu shuddered—he was exactly like the Lin Jun that Fifteen had impersonated, completely a patriotic, righteously indignant young man. Fifteen had imitated him too perfectly.

During this recovery period, as a reward for He Simu’s continuous help with reconnaissance, Duan Xu readily accepted Chen Ying as his sworn brother, promising to take Chen Ying back to the Duan residence to raise and care for him. Chen Ying was reluctant to part for a long time, prompting He Simu to tactfully point out that she wasn’t planning to leave yet, so Chen Ying would still be able to see her frequently for some time—his reluctance seemed premature.

This time, Duan Xu was covered in wounds and couldn’t change his bandages by himself. Originally, this task would have fallen to either the military doctor or Meng Wan, but now it fell to He Simu—before losing consciousness, Duan Xu had clutched “He Xiaoxiao’s” collar and given her a meaningful look. She remembered Duan Xu’s body full of old scars and the wound on his waist, thinking that this young general was quite troublesome. Nevertheless, she played along by wailing in grief to express her devotion, cooperating with Duan Xu’s act, and taking on the task of bandaging.

He Simu thought that he was, after all, her curse-bound person, and considering his half-dead pitiful state, she temporarily refrained from taking away his senses.

She needed to let him recover quickly to fulfill their agreement.

“Sss…” Duan Xu made a slight sound of pain. He frowned at He Simu, but in a moment he couldn’t help but smile again. “Your hands are heavy—you have no sense of touch.”

He Simu raised an eyebrow at this person who smiled more the more it hurt, and loosened the gauze in her hand, saying, “Why don’t I let Commander Meng come in and replace me, and you can explain to her how you got all these old wounds?”

“It’s my honor to have Your Highness bandage my wounds,” Duan Xu replied swiftly and smoothly, smiling brightly.

In the hazy morning light, his upper body was bare, revealing pale skin crisscrossed with wounds. Fortunately, apart from the knife wound Fifteen had given him below his ribs, the other injuries weren’t too deep. He allowed He Simu to pull the gauze around his arms, waist, and back for bandaging.

He Simu tied a knot on her handiwork, then patted Duan Xu’s shoulder and said, “Take off your pants.”

“…” Duan Xu turned to look at her, wearing a rare expression of astonishment, as if uncertain of what he’d heard.

She spoke quite naturally: “I remember you have a wound on your inner thigh as well.”

Duan Xu pressed down on He Simu’s hand, which was resting on his waist clothing, and said earnestly, “The wound isn’t deep. I think this won’t be necessary.”

“Why not?” He Simu raised an eyebrow and said, “I’ve been dissecting corpses with my father and Doctor Fu since I was young. What kind of naked body haven’t I seen? Besides, I’m a ghost—I’ve possessed men’s bodies before. What are you being shy about?”

Duan Xu smiled and politely declined, “It’s not appropriate. I still need to maintain some dignity.”

He Simu narrowed her eyes slightly, and instantly Duan Xu’s hands were bound behind his back by something invisible, causing him to fall flat on his back on the bed with a muffled thud. Duan Xu blinked and said, “That hurts Your Highness. I’m still an injured patient.”

He Simu bent down to caress his cheek. Since she was appearing as “He Xiaoxiao,” her fingers were warm now. She eased up a bit when touching the wound on his face: “You want me to bandage you but then you get picky about it. Does the young general think he can order me around?”

Duan Xu smiled, his eyes gleaming with light, and calmly said, “I’m not being picky—I’m asking for a favor. Your Highness, give me a little face. You can’t treat me like this.”

As He Simu began to smile dangerously, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a familiar male voice rang out.

“General, General Qin…” Han Ling Qiu, seeing Duan Xu lying on the bed with his hair spread across the pillow and He Xiaoxiao leaning over him touching his face, momentarily forgot what he was about to say, feeling that perhaps he should pretend he hadn’t seen anything, turn around, and close the door.

Before he could act on this thought, Duan Xu’s eyes brightened as if granted a great reprieve. He sat up from the bed and said, “Officer Han, please continue.”

He Xiaoxiao gracefully moved away from Duan Xu, sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, and picked up a cup of tea to drink.

Han Ling Qiu continued reluctantly: “General, news just arrived that General Qin will be here in two days.”

Duan Xu smiled lightly and said leisurely, “General Qin coming in person… it seems one Shuo Province is not enough; this war still has a long way to go. I’m unwell, so tell Commander Wu to properly receive General Qin—regarding protocol, better ask Meng Wan.”

Han Ling Qiu acknowledged and was about to leave when Duan Xu called him back. Despite his pale complexion from blood loss due to his injuries, Duan Xu’s gaze was focused: “Officer Han, don’t you have anything else you want to ask me?”

Han Ling Qiu was silent for a moment, then saluted with clasped hands: “Not at this time.”

On the night when Duan Xu had briefed him about the New Year’s combat competition, Duan Xu had said he knew Han Ling Qiu had many questions about him and would give him a chance to ask once Shuo Province was relieved.

He had promised to answer truthfully any question Han Ling Qiu posed.

Han Ling Qiu had long prepared this question, but that day at the combat arena, when the fake Lin Jun tossed out the line “You are my seventeenth martial brother,” Han Ling Qiu vaguely sensed the outline of past events. He suddenly felt afraid that those past events might overturn his current life.

Originally, he hadn’t been obsessed with the past. It was Duan Xu’s appearance that sparked his curiosity—curiosity that was less about his past and more about Duan Xu himself.

But on the first day of the New Year, when Han Ling Qiu looked up at the city wall at Duan Xu, covered in wounds and swaying yet still smiling happily, he suddenly felt that who Duan Xu was might not be so important after all.

There were certainly many mysteries surrounding Duan Xu, but what could be confirmed was that he was a good general for Great Liang, and perhaps that was enough.

And he, Han Ling Qiu, was an officer of Great Liang’s Tabai Army. Being clear about this point was also enough.

Watching Han Ling Qiu leave and thoughtfully close the door, He Simu laughed softly, her gaze leisurely turning toward Duan Xu.

Before she could ask, Duan Xu, as if reading her mind, answered: “Han Ling Qiu, he was once in the same cohort as me.”

With wounds all over his body, he couldn’t lean on anything, and could only support himself with his hands on the bed, leaning back slightly to find a comfortable position for storytelling.

“The Tianzhixiao disciples had one hundred people in each cohort. The test was killing each other—in seven years, ninety-nine would die, leaving one person who would then be given a number and graduate.”

—He made me start killing at seven years old, and by fourteen, I had killed everyone in my cohort.

He Simu recalled what Duan Xu had told her during his killing spree in the Danzhi camp. At that time, his eyes had burned with excitement and pain, with a hint of madness. Now, the madness in Duan Xu’s eyes had subsided, and he was calm as if discussing an ordinary memory. After a moment of silence, he smiled.

“Han Ling Qiu was quiet and reserved back then. Most of us there were like him—I was the exception. I hardly spoke to him, and our most significant interaction was the life-or-death duel during the Mingshi test. He must have felt desperate—ninety-eight had died, leaving just the two of us, but Master favored me and I was strong, so he was still going to die by my hand, just later than the other ninety-eight.”

Duan Xu pointed to his forehead and said, “That long scar on his face—I made it.”

“When you were killing him?” He Simu asked.

“No, when I was saving him.”

This answer was somewhat unexpected.

Duan Xu smiled and tilted his head: “During the Mingshi test, I was supposed to kill him, but I used some tricks to make it look like he was dead while leaving him with a breath of life. Then I gave him a memory-erasing potion, cut his face, and switched him with a corpse that had the same facial wound, then transported him out.”

He Simu smiled lightly: “You said you weren’t close to him. How could you be so kind-hearted?”

“Why couldn’t I be that kind-hearted? Ghost King, do you understand me?”

Duan Xu joked as usual, but his gaze suddenly contained a hint of bewilderment, as if stumped by his question.

Did anyone in the world truly understand him?

His thousand layers of masks and how much true heart he had—no one could tell.

“Do you want to hear my story?” Duan Xu suddenly asked lightly, though his gaze was serious. “Since Han Ling Qiu didn’t ask me, I’ll give this opportunity to you. From now on, I’ll answer truthfully all questions you ask.”

He Simu put down her teacup and said, “Last time when I was choking you and wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t say a word. Why are you willing to talk now?”

“When you were choking me and wanted to kill me, of course, I wouldn’t talk. But when I reached out my hand to you, you took it, so now I can talk.”

Duan Xu’s tone suggested he was joking, his eyes full of ease.

But He Simu remembered the boy sitting on the ground, his eyes soaked with blood. When he reached out to her, he seemed like a begonia flower about to be blown away by the wind—if she hadn’t grasped him, he would have fallen.

Even in the most dangerous situation, he hadn’t begged her for help, yet with just one grasp of her hand, he had agreed to their deal.

She had merely taken his hand, palm against palm.

What was it that this young man truly desired?

He Simu said, “You’ve done so much in Liang Province, and here—is it to take revenge against Tianzhixiao?”