He Simu softly repeated: “Being alive.”

Duan Xu’s fingers casually brushed through her hair as he lifted his gaze and boldly probed: “Have you never been alive before?”

He Simu’s intense gaze cooled. She narrowed her eyes dangerously at this perpetually audacious fellow, who seemed addicted to challenging her.

Duan Xu met her eyes without flinching, wearing an innocent, open smile, candlelight dancing in his eyes.

He Simu’s gaze, however, gradually shifted from sharp to confused—her spell to punish Duan Xu hadn’t worked. She raised her hand before her eyes, turning it left and right, and whispered: “My power…”

Duan Xu, being exceptionally perceptive, immediately understood and said: “After exchanging senses with me, your magic disappeared?”

He Simu and Duan Xu simultaneously looked down at the Ghost King Lantern at her waist. The jade pendant, normally emanating a faint blue glow, now appeared as an ordinary piece of jade, its blue light completely gone.

Duan Xu looked up and met He Simu’s gaze as she raised her head. His eyes curved, the corners of his mouth lifting into an increasingly wide smile as he pronounced each word deliberately: “Your magic has vanished.”

Before He Simu could react, the world spun around her, and their positions were reversed. She found herself lying on the bed with Duan Xu above her, slowly leaning down with a smile as he gazed at her.

The bedding felt even softer than the skin. He Simu was momentarily bewildered, and as she met Duan Xu’s unfathomable gaze, she knew she was in trouble.

Why hadn’t her aunt warned her that after exchanging senses, her powers would disappear, leaving her as vulnerable as a mortal?

The young General Duan, who always believed in never resisting those he couldn’t defeat and showing no mercy to those he could, looked down at He Simu, simply smiling, his intentions unclear.

He Simu warned him with a cold gaze: “The exchange of senses lasts only ten days. After ten days, I’ll regain my power. If you dare do anything to me, just wait for death after those ten days.”

Duan Xu tilted his head, showing not the slightest trace of fear, and smiled: “Ten days, huh…”

He lowered his head and whispered in her ear: “Then I’ll just live for ten days. How about that?”

He Simu’s gaze sharpened: “What are you going to—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Duan Xu’s hand lightly grabbed her waist. He Simu’s entire body jolted, curling into a ball, bewildered by what had just happened.

“That feeling is called ticklishness.”

Duan Xu explained cheerfully: “Let me tell you a secret—my senses are extremely sensitive, so I’m very ticklish. Every time you lay on top of me or touched me, I struggled to endure it.”

Indeed, as she had taken his sense of touch, she had also become as ticklish as he was.

Duan Xu smiled with pure innocence, showing the air of someone who, having gained the upper hand, was ready to settle old scores. He rolled up his sleeves and wreaked havoc on He Simu’s waist, armpits, and the soles of her feet. Experiencing “ticklishness” for the first time in four hundred years, the evil ghost couldn’t bear it, tossing and turning in a desperate struggle. Without her ghostly powers, she couldn’t physically match Duan Xu and could only threaten him with fits of laughter.

“Hahaha… you… After ten days… hahaha… I will kill you!”

“Since I’m going to die anyway, I might as well make the most of these ten days.”

Duan Xu propped one hand beside He Simu’s hair, the other temporarily ceasing its torment. He looked at her outwardly fierce but inwardly timid expression, gazing deeply into the black depths behind her eyes, where her once consistently haughty demeanor now revealed traces of trembling.

He blinked and softly chuckled: “He Simu, so you can be afraid too.”

He Simu, gritting her teeth, pronounced each word distinctly: “Duan. Xun. Xi!”

“Yes? What is it?”

Duan Xu responded, drawing out his words. He smiled slightly, then straightened up and leisurely released her, sitting cross-legged beside her.

He Simu sat up from the bed, almost immediately distancing herself from him, glaring at this curse-bound person who had brought her four hundred years of bad luck.

The wounds on Duan Xu’s body had started bleeding through the bandages during He Simu’s struggle. He glanced at them and said indifferently: “It truly doesn’t hurt. Even when touching you, there’s no sensation at all, as if my body is dead.”

After a pause, Duan Xu looked at He Simu’s vigilant gaze and smiled: “So this is how you’ve experienced the world all along.”

Pain, temperature, texture—these sensations vanished without a trace in an instant, leaving only a world so distant it seemed almost imperceptible.

They were bound by the curse, and he could gradually come to understand her.

He Simu, as if reading his thoughts, frowned and asked: “Why do you want to understand me?”

Duan Xu blinked silently, then casually replied: “Who knows? Perhaps just as you initially wanted to understand me. You’re so unique, you make people curious.”

He Simu looked at Duan Xu for a long moment, then indifferently flexed her wrist.

“The living should learn to keep their distance from death.”

Duan Xu gazed at He Simu, smiling without speaking.

Although He Simu had unexpectedly lost her powers, her true form had also unexpectedly transformed into a living state—she had breath, a pulse, warmth, and softness, no longer appearing unmistakably dead.

Most importantly, she couldn’t return to “He Xiaoxiao’s” body, nor could she become invisible.

So “He Xiaoxiao” lay unconscious on the bed, while Duan Xu’s camp gained a strange beauty from nowhere. Duan Xu claimed she was a friend from Dai Province and asked Meng Wan to show her around the city.

Just as Meng Wan, full of confusion, led He Simu away, General Qin’s deputy came to find Duan Xu, saluting with a troubled expression: “General Duan, Inspector-General Zheng has arrived with an imperial edict. All generals are requested to gather at the front camp.”

Zheng An was a third-rank official in the Ministry of Personnel, specially appointed as a frontier inspector, and a close friend of Duan Xu’s father from their school days. He was a pillar of Minister Du’s faction.

His arrival surely wouldn’t bring good news for General Qin.

Duan Xu smiled slightly, then changed his clothes and left. Arriving at the front camp, he saw General Qin and the other generals standing while a middle-aged man in purple robes with crane patterns stood with his hands behind his back.

Zheng An glanced at this famous young man, nodded with a smile, and then took the imperial edict from an attendant beside him.

“The Emperor’s decree,” he announced, his tone slow and authoritative, carrying the arrogance of one long in a position of power. The generals in the camp all knelt to receive the imperial command.

Duan Xu knelt among the crowd, head bowed, listening to Zheng An read the long edict. The Emperor first greatly praised General Qin for repelling the enemy, then bestowed rewards upon all the generals, without specifically mentioning Duan Xu, as if this were just an ordinary commendation.

But near the end of the edict, the Emperor changed his tone, saying that although General Qin had been given discretionary power, the military’s horse policy had long been problematic, and it was imperative to prioritize capturing Yun Province to secure its horse pastures.

As soon as these words were spoken, Duan Xu felt several gazes focus on him. He remained motionless, listening to General Qin’s surprised yet acquiescent response: “I, Minister Qin Huanda, receive the imperial edict.” Duan Xu formally kowtowed along with General Qin to receive the edict.

Beneath his arm, as he prostrated himself, the corner of his lips curved into a slight smile.

After finishing the announcement, Inspector-General Zheng left, lightly patting Duan Xu’s shoulder as he passed, without saying anything. The people in the camp rose from the ground, and now everyone’s gaze was fixed on Duan Xu. Just yesterday they had decided on an attack direction, and today an imperial edict arrived, completely following Duan Xu’s opinion. Few would believe Duan Xu hadn’t pulled some strings.

That’s why he had yielded so easily yesterday—it wasn’t yielding so much as pity, the pity of a winner toward a loser who thought himself the victor.

Duan Xu rose unhurriedly from the ground, smiling brilliantly: “Since His Majesty has made the decision, we’ll have to reconsider and rearrange our deployment.”

General Qin Huanda looked at Duan Xu, placing the edict on the table, and said indifferently: “You may all leave. General Duan, you stay.”

Duan Xu stood in the camp, his smile unhurried and his posture straight. The others filed past him, and sunlight filtering through the tent flap fell on his silver armor, reflecting a dazzling brilliance.

“You’ve finally gotten your way,” General Qin said, looking at Duan Xu with piercing eyes.

Duan Xu smiled, evading the main point: “It’s His Majesty’s wisdom. What does it have to do with me?”

“Do you know that ‘the general who is skilled yet unconstrained by his ruler will be victorious’? Battlefield decisions should be made by the commander. You used tactics to make the Emperor issue an edict to intervene—that’s a major taboo in the military!” General Qin slammed the table in anger, and dust particles trembled in the sunlight.

“Setting aside factional disputes, I admire your talent, but you’re still too young, focused solely on achieving merit! Your fundamental purpose in wanting Yun and Luo Provinces is to eventually wage an all-out war with Danzhi, isn’t it? But you must understand that war is fought with silver. Daily expenses of thousands of gold drain the people and harm the treasury. Danzhi’s invasion has already burned through who knows how much of Great Liang’s savings. How much longer can we sustain this? If attacking You Province could force Danzhi into peace talks, controlling their throat would give us decades of peace. Great Liang could recuperate and then pursue greater endeavors—that’s the correct path!”

Duan Xu looked at the imperial edict on General Qin’s table, remained silent for a moment, then shifted his gaze to General Qin’s face. The smile in his eyes faded as he said slowly: “What about the people on the northern bank?”

General Qin was momentarily taken aback.

Duan Xu pointed outside the tent and said: “When the Grand General led troops into Shuo Province this time, didn’t the people along the way welcome the royal army with food and wine? When I was defending the prefectural city, Lin Huaide’s family of twenty-three died tragically at the city gate for the sake of the city’s provisions. Before dying, he said their ancestors had sworn that if Great Liang sent troops to reclaim their homeland, they would spare no effort, even at the cost of their lives.”

“We remain secure in our small corner. We recuperate for decades on the southern bank, while the people on the northern bank suffer in deep water and scorching fire. We allow them to be oppressed and tamed until eventually, those connected by blood become enemies facing each other with knives and swords. General Qin, is this what you call maturity?”

Duan Xu’s eyes flickered with a sharp light, like an invincible blade, yet he still smiled as he said: “I’m a young man with no attachments, just this one life. I cannot let those people on the northern bank who still hold fast become a joke.”

General Qin was speechless with astonishment. He recalled the first time he saw this young man in the Southern Capital, thinking only that his appearance was extraordinary, like a pine or cypress, probably just a somewhat outstanding noble youth. Now he realized that Duan Xu was not a pine or cypress.

He was a thornbush.