He Simu seemed to pause for a moment. She slightly narrowed her eyes and said: “Are you truly not planning to use this trade for something valuable?”
“Valuable?”
In the summer morning meadow, the increasingly hot wind swept up dust and the scent of blood, blowing her long hair and sleeves toward Duan Xu—if he reached out, he could touch her.
Duan Xu lowered his gaze, then raised his eyes to look at He Simu. Having just killed many people, he was still in a state of excitement, his eyes burning bright.
“I want you to see how I look in wedding attire. It happens only once in a lifetime—don’t you think that’s valuable?”
He untied the black silver-threaded headband from his head and extended it to her, his eyes curved like new moons: “Please accept this as an invitation, Your Majesty. The auspicious wedding day is set for the eighteenth day of the sixth month. A banquet will be held at my residence. I hope you can find time to attend, bringing auspicious energy to the new union and adding joy to this beautiful marriage. Please do not decline.”
He Simu looked down at the black headband with silver pines and cypresses between his fair fingers. She wasn’t certain whether they were truly black and silver, but she had heard from Meng Wan before that Duan Xu most favored the combination of black and silver.
When she guided Duan Xu through the ghost realm, he always wore black clothes with silver ornaments, like an ebony sword inlaid with silver. When she asked why he dressed this way, he smiled and said: “I want what you see of me to be my true self.”
He was skilled at doing things that were difficult to understand yet left a deep impression—such as wearing black and white around her, or inviting her to his wedding feast.
He Simu looked into Duan Xu’s eyes, remained silent for a moment, and then said: “Very well, I accept.”
She took the black silver-threaded headband from his hand and smiled: “Young General Duan, congratulations.”
This was a good thing. The mortal world had its vibrant colors—why should a ghost be confined to black and white?
After He Simu disappeared in a wisp of blue smoke, Fang Xian Ye took a while to react. Rubbing his brow, he turned toward Duan Xu and demanded: “Who is she?”
Duan Xu seemed reluctant to look away, still gazing in the direction where the maiden had vanished. He smiled gently: “The one in my heart.”
“The one in your heart? She’s not human—she’s a ghost, right? You said she’s the Ghost King, she…”
“Fang Ji…” Duan Xu suddenly drew out his voice. He turned his head, smiling languidly: “When you have a child in the future, how about letting him recognize me as his godfather? Or if you’re not too attached, you could adopt him out to me.”
Though this question seemed unrelated, its implication was unmistakable—Duan Xu was serious, deadly serious.
Fang Xian Ye paused. His gaze darkened as he turned to walk toward his sedan chair, angrily saying as he walked: “You madman! You deserve to grow old alone!”
Duan Xu burst into laughter behind him.
The assassination attempt on Fang Xian Ye was not made public. In the following days, seeing Duan Cheng Zhang’s gloomy expression, Duan Xu was fairly certain his father wouldn’t be plotting anything sinister for a while.
Duan Jing Yuan, who was naturally poor at detecting undercurrents, was perhaps the person in the entire Duan residence most focused on Duan Xu’s wedding.
She had expected her brother and father to deliberate for a longer period but was surprised by how quickly they settled on the Wang family’s daughter and set the engagement and date. Wang Suyi preferred quiet over noise and rarely participated in gatherings of young ladies, so Duan Jing Yuan wasn’t very familiar with her. However, Wang Suyi was quite beautiful and spoke pleasantly—she seemed like a gentle young lady who would make a fine sister-in-law without any major issues.
Third Brother was getting married—this inexplicably made Duan Jing Yuan feel somewhat melancholic. Since childhood, she had wanted to marry someone like her third brother. Although her third brother’s personality had changed somewhat as he grew up, in her heart she still used him as the standard to measure the young gentlemen of Southern Capital. Now this standard was about to be taken by someone else.
However, she felt that her third brother didn’t seem particularly happy about taking a bride. Perhaps it was because of the many troublesome matters at court. She had vaguely heard that some case was being investigated, and her brother was implicated.
Ugh, that cursed Pei faction!
The image of Fang Xian Ye’s calm and peaceful countenance flashed through her mind. After a moment’s hesitation, she still cursed in her heart: Damn that Fang Xian Ye!
Banquets had always been occasions for Duan Jing Yuan to shine. She decided to make a most innovative new outfit and create a fresh, elegant yet sweet fragrance to show her importance to her beloved third brother’s major life event.
On this day, she eagerly went to the largest perfume shop in the city, Yueren Residence, to acquire the finest amber materials for her fragrance. While selecting ingredients, she saw a medium-height young woman of ordinary appearance but fine clothing enter. The woman untied the sachet at her waist and tossed it to the perfumer, saying: “Make me an identical sachet. The ingredients are agarwood, amber, styrax, mint leaves, Bletilla striata, and benzoin.”
Duan Jing Yuan was greatly surprised by the familiar scent from the sachet. Because of the mixed fragrances in the shop, she couldn’t immediately be certain, but after hearing the young woman list the ingredients, she was even more astonished—wasn’t this the fragrance she had made for her third brother?
Duan Jing Yuan curiously looked the young woman up and down. The young woman seemed to notice and turned to glance at her, smiling: “Why is the young lady staring at me?”
When she smiled, there was a sense of casual arrogance, but strangely, it wasn’t dislikeable—there was even a subtle sense of pressure.
“Ah… I find this fragrance very pleasant. Did you blend it yourself, miss? What is it called?” Duan Jing Yuan asked indirectly.
The young woman’s fingers tapped carelessly on the counter. She shook her head: “No. This fragrance is called…”
She seemed to ponder for a moment, then smiled as if remembering something.
“It’s called Duan Shun Xi.”
Duan Jing Yuan’s eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. Looking at the young woman again, there was pity in her gaze.
Today, the perfumer at Yueren Residence seemed somewhat distracted, nearly giving Duan Jing Yuan the wrong amber material. The “Duan Shun Xi” fragrance he blended was also missing the Bletilla striata, resulting in an incorrect scent. The young woman who ordered it didn’t notice at all—it was Duan Jing Yuan who reminded the perfumer, after which he discovered the error and blended it again.
After watching the young woman leave, Duan Jing Yuan sighed, thinking she must be someone who admired her brother. She must have somehow learned the ingredients of the fragrance her third brother wore and made an identical sachet to carry, so she could think of him whenever she smelled it. Her third brother’s upcoming marriage had broken the hearts of so many young women in the Southern Capital—he truly was a devastating male beauty.
When she returned home, she asked Duan Xu if he had ever revealed the formula of the fragrance she made for him to anyone else. After receiving an affirmative answer, she told him about the incident, expressing the same sentiment.
After hearing about it, Duan Xu paused for a moment before smiling, seemingly quite pleased. He confirmed: “You said the perfumer mixed the ingredients wrong, but she didn’t notice at all?”
“Yes, quite strange indeed.”
Duan Xu smiled even more happily, softly saying: “How adorable.”
Duan Jing Yuan felt something was off about Duan Xu’s expression. She poked his shoulder and warned: “Third Brother, you’re about to be married—you can’t just casually find others adorable anymore. In my opinion, you should also stop quarreling with Fang Xian Ye over Miss Luo Xian from Yucao Tower.”
Duan Xu readily agreed to everything. Duan Jing Yuan then took out the new fragrance she had blended that day, presenting it like a treasure for Duan Xu to smell and guess the ingredients. This was a game Duan Jing Yuan often played with him, as Duan Xu had a keen sense of smell and could almost immediately identify all the ingredients used in her fragrances.
This time, Duan Xu smelled it as usual and leisurely listed all the ingredients in his little sister’s new blend. However, Duan Jing Yuan frowned and said: “Third Brother, you missed two ingredients—fennel and lily.”
Although she had used very little of these two ingredients, with Duan Xu’s usual ability, he shouldn’t have missed them. Hearing this, Duan Xu also paused. He lowered his head to carefully smell the sachet again, his expression darkening slightly.
Seeing him silent, Duan Jing Yuan thought he was upset by the failure and awkwardly comforted him: “Everyone makes mistakes occasionally. Third Brother, don’t take it too much to heart.”
“I can’t smell them anymore…” Duan Xu said softly. He raised his eyes to look at Duan Jing Yuan, complex emotions gathering in his eyes, startling her for a moment. But soon Duan Xu smiled, returning the sachet to her and saying: “It seems I’m truly getting old. Jing Yuan, I’m afraid I’ll often fail at this game from now on.”
Duan Jing Yuan said quietly: “You’ll only be turning twenty this August—what do you mean by ‘getting old’?”
“Haha, ultimately, a person’s senses gradually deteriorate with age.” Duan Xu patted Duan Jing Yuan’s head, casually saying: “It’s the natural way of the world.”
With that, he put his hands behind his back and turned to leave with a smile, his green robes flying—looking so young and as if he would remain this way forever. Duan Jing Yuan held the sachet, feeling inexplicably melancholic at the word “deteriorate.”
When He Simu returned to the Imperial Preceptor’s residence, He Jiafeng Yi was standing in the courtyard observing the stars, supporting himself with his birch wood staff. The tiles in this star observation courtyard were painted black, with the constellations drawn in gold, encompassing the vast heavens within a small space. He stood on the tiles depicting the Dipper constellation, tapping his staff at the third star of the Dipper. One of the four bells hanging from the top of his staff made a crisp sound, and he quickly calculated something with his hand.
Seeing He Simu enter the courtyard, he planted his staff on the ground, leaned against it, and smiled: “Where has the venerable ancestor been?”
The staff seemed rooted to the ground, remaining perfectly straight and unmoved despite He Jiafeng Yi leaning on it.
He Simu raised the sachet in her hand and said: “Making a fragrance sachet.”
“You can’t smell fragrances—why make a sachet?”
“I may not smell it, but I like others to smell this scent on me. Is that not allowed?”
He Jiafeng Yi immediately replied: “Of course, of course, of course.” As He Simu was about to enter the room, she suddenly turned back to look at He Jiafeng Yi. Holding the doorframe, she seemed to hesitate before asking: “What wedding gifts are fashionable in the human world these days?”
“That depends on who’s getting married. Are you sending a gift to Duan Xu?”
“He invited me to his wedding. Since I’m going, I can’t arrive empty-handed.”
He Jiafeng Yi nearly lost his balance, almost slipping off his staff. His venerable ancestor had never enjoyed attending celebrations or funerals. She hadn’t attended his parents’ wedding, and later she hadn’t attended his parents’ funeral or his brothers’ and sisters’ weddings. He had assumed she would ask him to deliver the gift on her behalf, never expecting her to attend in person. This was truly favoritism—valuing romantic interest over friendship.
Receiving He Jiafeng Yi’s accusing look, He Simu unusually felt somewhat guilty. She coughed twice and said: “It’s different—this is his condition for exchanging the five senses.”
He Jiafeng Yi clicked his tongue twice and sighed: “I’ve noticed you’re exceptionally indulgent with him.”
“This is merely a transaction.”
He Jiafeng Yi waved his hand, stopping this topic. He knew his venerable ancestor would never admit her repeated concessions to Duan Xu. He returned to the original subject: “I’ve prepared a substantial gift for him that hit the mark by chance. Recently, the court has been investigating the horse administration corruption case. Originally, the Minister of War and the Director of the Imperial Stud were both going to lose their heads, but unexpectedly, there was a turn of events—the key witness recanted, claiming he was coerced and the evidence was forged. The timing of the Horse administration corruption case and Duan Xu’s strong advocacy for attacking Yun and Luo Prefectures was too perfect. Justice Jin Yan of the Court of Judicial Review suspects Duan Xu, and now he’s also being targeted by Duke Pei’s people. Using this matter, Duke Pei’s faction will likely continue to make trouble.”
“And this matter I’m investigating, though unrelated to the case, could be of great help to Duan Xu. For someone like him, material possessions probably aren’t very important—I’ll just casually prepare some other gifts.”
He Simu neither understood nor wanted to understand the affairs of the Great Liang court. She frowned and said: “That’s your gift, but what should I give?”
“You’ve spent so much time with him—don’t you know what he likes? You’ve exchanged the five senses with him—what you enjoyed when you gained sensation, isn’t that what he likes?”
What did she enjoy when she gained sensation? He Simu seriously pondered—what did she like?
Sunlight, wind, ice, rain, snow.
Peonies, fresh grass, firewood, the aroma of food.
Duan Xu’s pulse, heartbeat, breath, scent.
How could any of these be sent as gifts?
This wasn’t the first time He Simu had given wedding gifts. In the past, she had always been quite straightforward, typically taking out some centuries-old treasures from her vault and generously giving them away. But she knew Duan Xu didn’t care about such things. Perhaps because he had previously given her that carefully crafted painting, she unconsciously became more thoughtful about her return gift.
She wanted to give Duan Xu something he truly liked, something that would make him happy. But she wasn’t good at this sort of thing—she was better at destroying or protecting rather than giving.
He Simu sighed and rubbed her brow. Trying to please someone—this feeling was subtle and unfamiliar to her.
After observing his venerable ancestor’s expression for a while, He Jiafeng Yi waved his hand and said: “Forget it. Venerable ancestor, have you forgotten that you’re an evil ghost? For mortals, receiving a wedding gift from a ghost is not only inauspicious but extremely unlucky. If you send him a gift, will he accept it or not?”
He Simu paused, then after a moment, chuckled softly: “Indeed.”
She turned and walked into the room.
He Jiafeng Yi shook his head as he reclaimed his staff. He tapped it on the Heart constellation, and the staff began to spin rapidly, all the bells producing crisp, staggered sounds, as if people were chattering about something. He folded his arms and smiled with satisfaction, saying: “Mars guards the Heart—an auspicious day is coming.”