Although Duan Xu had left through the door when departing from Fang Jian Ya’s place, he still had to climb over the wall to return to the Duan residence. As Duan Xu landed lightly in the courtyard from the wall, he unexpectedly met Duan Jingyuan’s gaze.

“Why aren’t you asleep so late?” Duan Xu asked curiously after they stared at each other for a moment.

Duan Jingyuan ran over with a lantern and exclaimed with equal surprise, “I remembered I forgot to add an ingredient to my chrysanthemum wine… Wait, why are you dressed like this so late at night? Where did you go?”

As she came closer, she noticed the bloodstains on Duan Xu’s collar. Her face turned pale instantly, and with trembling lips, she asked, “Third Brother… did you… did you kill someone?”

Duan Xu couldn’t help but laugh. He walked casually toward his courtyard, patting Duan Jingyuan’s head as he passed, “No, it’s my blood.”

Duan Jingyuan immediately followed him, asking, “Then are you injured? What were you doing anyway?”

Duan Xu shook his head and put his finger to his lips, “Secret.”

Duan Jingyuan puffed her cheeks in anger, following Duan Xu as he entered his Haoyue Residence. As they walked, she said, “Don’t think you can fool me this time. If you don’t tell me, I’ll go tell Father…”

Before she could finish speaking, she saw Duan Xu’s steps slow down. He seemed to sway slightly and then, without warning, collapsed face-first onto the ground with a muffled thud, lying motionless. Duan Jingyuan froze for a moment, then said softly, “Brother, don’t try to scare me. Stop pretending and get up!”

Duan Xu lay on the stone slabs of the courtyard with his eyes tightly closed. In the lamplight, his face appeared pale, like a piece of white jade about to shatter.

Duan Jingyuan became flustered. She put down the lantern and lifted Duan Xu, calling out, “Third Brother, Third Brother, wake up!”

Only when she held Duan Xu did she feel the alarming heat emanating from his body—he was running a high fever. Duan Jingyuan anxiously placed her hand on his forehead and raised her voice, “Third Brother! Third Brother!”

Seemingly disturbed by Duan Jingyuan’s voice, Duan Xu frowned and called out softly—”He Simu,” then remained unresponsive no matter how Duan Jingyuan called to him.

Duan Jingyuan was so anxious that she stood up, intending to call for help, but seeing her Third Brother in night clothes, she felt she shouldn’t alarm their parents. As she hesitated, looking toward the courtyard gate, she suddenly felt a cold, eerie presence. When she turned back, she was startled to see a familiar figure.

A tall, beautiful woman stood beside Duan Xu, dressed in a triple-layered red and white crossed-collar robe, with silver tassels swaying at her forehead. The north wind howled, the lamplight flickered, and the ghostly aura around her was three times colder than the north wind.

Duan Jingyuan finally found her voice, stammering, “He… Xiao… Miss He.”

He Simu quickly contained the ghostly energy around her. Her eyes returned to their normal black-and-white contrast, and she nodded slightly in acknowledgment of Duan Jingyuan’s greeting. She lowered her gaze to look at Duan Xu for a moment, sighed, and raised her hand slightly. Duan Xu’s body levitated, and she took his arm and supported him over her shoulder.

Duan Xu’s forehead rested against He Simu’s neck. In his confusion, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her neck, whispering with his eyes closed, “He Simu…”

He Simu glanced at him, then turned and walked toward his room, the door opening automatically. Duan Jingyuan followed closely behind them and saw He Simu place Duan Xu on the bed. With a flick of her finger, his clothes fell away, revealing shoulders and chest crisscrossed with scars.

Duan Jingyuan exclaimed in shock, “Miss… Miss He, what are you… doing?”

“Changing his clothes. He can’t wear these night clothes,” He Simu said calmly, turning to instruct Duan Jingyuan, “Go call a doctor.”

Duan Jingyuan bit her lip, turned, and picked up her lantern to find a doctor. As she went, she thought to herself, “She’s a ghost, how can I leave Third Brother with a ghost?” But then she also thought, “Third Brother calls out her name even in his dreams, why am I worrying? Even if Miss He were to eat him, perhaps that’s what he would want.” Lost in these confused thoughts, she returned with the doctor to find He Simu had disappeared from the room. Duan Xu, now in a simple robe and covered with thick blankets, lay on the bed with a damp cloth on his forehead, sleeping fitfully with his eyes closed.

The doctor went over and took Duan Xu’s wrist to check his pulse. Duan Xu frowned and called out softly, “Simu…”

Duan Jingyuan froze, leaning against the doorframe, unable to describe the feeling in her heart.

The doctor could not determine what was wrong with Duan Xu’s body and could only prescribe medicine for the fever. Duan Jingyuan called a maid to prepare the medicine and bring it, intending to feed it to Duan Xu, but Duan Xu kept his lips tightly closed, instinctively turning his head away from the smell of the medicine, refusing to drink.

Duan Jingyuan was drenched in nervous sweat when she suddenly sensed the familiar cold aura. Her hand paused as she was trying to feed the medicine, and she said to her maid, “You may go now, I’ll do this myself.”

The maid complied and withdrew.

From the corner of her eye, Duan Jingyuan saw the edge of a red garment. He Simu stood beside her with her hands behind her back, her gaze fixed on Duan Xu lying on the bed.

“What’s wrong with him?” He Simu asked.

“I don’t know… the doctor couldn’t tell either, only saying that… Third Brother is very weak,” Duan Jingyuan answered quietly.

He Simu raised her hand and tossed a pill into the medicine bowl in Duan Jingyuan’s hand, then took the bowl and sat down beside Duan Xu.

Duan Jingyuan became anxious and protested, “What did you throw in there?”

“A spiritual medicine from the Immortal Sect. It won’t kill him.”

“Why… why did you come to see my Third Brother?” Duan Jingyuan asked, half-believing.

He Simu raised her eyes to look at Duan Jingyuan and said flatly, “He asked someone to tell me he wanted to see me once. I came, so consider that we’ve met.”

With that, she scooped up a spoonful of medicine and held it to Duan Xu’s lips. “Open your mouth, time for medicine.”

Duan Xu frowned and turned his head away. He had already lost consciousness to the fever, and now instinctively rejected the bitter taste of the medicine. No matter who asked, he wouldn’t open his mouth.

He Simu said softly, “Still afraid of bitterness. Do you have any preserved fruits?”

Duan Jingyuan immediately stood up. “I’ll go buy some right away!”

“Never mind,” He Simu said. She raised the bowl to her lips and took a sip, then supported Duan Xu’s back and pressed her lips to his, prying open his teeth. Duan Xu’s throat finally moved—swallowing that mouthful of medicine.

As she pulled away from Duan Xu’s lips, he wrapped his arms around her neck. His face showed signs of pain, whether from the illness or something else and with his eyes tightly closed, he murmured, “Simu… so bitter… mmm…”

Before he could finish, He Simu lowered her head again to feed him a second mouthful, silencing his words. His arm waved aimlessly over her shoulder, his long fingers finally grasping the hair at the back of her head as he strained to lift his neck.

The sound gradually changed in nature, with the transition of medicine intermingled with the sound of entangled lips and tongues. When He Simu released him, he would call her name again, only to be silenced after two calls as she covered his mouth once more, thus intermittently drinking the entire bowl of medicine.

He Simu put the empty bowl aside and tried to lay Duan Xu back on the bed, but he wouldn’t let go. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his cheek against hers, and rambled, “So bitter… I don’t want… I don’t want to drink… Simu…”

She remained silent for a moment, finally raising her hand to pat his back, saying softly, “It’s gone, you’ve finished it, little fox.”

He caressed He Simu’s cold skin. Perhaps because his fever had clouded his mind, he was particularly drawn to her temperature, holding her tighter and tighter, as if he had spent what little strength he had left on this.

“So hot, Simu, I feel so terrible…” He frowned deeply, as if in unrelievable pain, and said quietly, “Hold me.”

He Simu’s hand, which had been patting his back, stopped. After a moment of silence, she finally sighed and slowly moved closer, extending her arms to embrace his back, burying her head in his shoulder. Her grip was a bit frightening as if she couldn’t control it, holding him tightly in her arms—an embrace that penetrated to the bone and blood.

As if the person in her arms was someone she could not lose.

Duan Jingyuan froze for a moment, then lowered her eyes and silently left Duan Xu’s room, closing the door behind her.

When Duan Xu woke up, it was broad daylight. The heat that had tormented him all night had subsided. He looked somewhat confusedly at the window, his gaze sweeping around the room before falling on Duan Jingyuan, who was slumped over the edge of the bed. He frowned, thinking that since Chen Ying was staying at the military camp outside the city, it must have been Jingyuan who had taken care of him all night.

Duan Jingyuan stirred and raised her head from her arms. Seeing that Duan Xu had awakened, her eyes filled with joy; if Third Brother hadn’t woken up, she would have truly gone to tell their parents. She reached out to feel her Third Brother’s forehead and let out a long sigh of relief, then said angrily, “You scared me to death! Third Brother, what exactly is going on with you?”

Duan Xu propped himself up to sit, smiling as he said, “The doctor says I have a strange illness. I don’t know what’s happening either. Thank you for taking care of me last night.”

Duan Jingyuan hesitated, observing Duan Xu’s expression as she said, “Do you not remember what happened last night?”

Duan Xu was surprised. “Did something happen?”

Duan Jingyuan stammered for a while before finally gritting her teeth and saying, “Miss He came. She changed your clothes, fed you the medicine, and you… you asked her to hold you!”

Duan Xu’s hand, which had been rubbing his forehead, froze in midair. He was stunned for a long time before saying, “She… came? Did I call her name?”

Duan Jingyuan nodded vigorously, saying, “You called it quite enthusiastically.”

“He Simu.” He immediately called her name again. Duan Jingyuan looked curiously at Duan Xu and then around the room, suddenly realizing, “So whenever you call her, she appears? Yesterday she said she came at someone’s request to see you once.”

But He Simu did not appear in the room. It seemed that had been just a one-time occurrence.

Duan Xu frowned slightly, then sighed with a smile, “So that’s how it is. Just once, then.”

The morning light brightened the room. Duan Xu, dressed in white, was pale, and though his words seemed sad, his round, bright eyes contained a smile, as if carefree and without worry. This was the Third Brother that Duan Jingyuan knew best, but she remembered the Duan Xu who had held He Simu last night.

Her heart stirred, and after thinking for a moment, she bit her lip and asked, “Third Brother, do you act spoiled sometimes? Are you… a person who likes to act spoiled?”

She had never seen Duan Xu act spoiled. In her memory, her Third Brother was cheerful, lively, and carefree, but never intimate or close with their father or mother—in fact, somewhat polite and distant. He seemed to have never needed to seek love or sympathy from anyone in his life.

So she thought her Third Brother wouldn’t act spoiled, wouldn’t cling tightly to a girl refusing to let go, saying softly that he felt terrible, asking to be held.

But perhaps he was a person who liked to act spoiled? She always felt that she didn’t know him.

Duan Xu was taken aback. He seemed to find the question amusing and was about to answer “no” when he paused, apparently thinking of something.

After a moment of silence, his eyes curved into a smile as he said, “I’m used to deliberately showing weakness to make a certain person soften her heart. Perhaps I’ve been pretending for so long that what was false has become true.”

Thinking about it, someone as intelligent as she would not have yielded each time unless she had seen his true desire behind his feigned weakness.

“Third Brother, why do you like Miss He so much?”

Duan Jingyuan truly couldn’t understand. Miss He was beautiful, but the Southern Capital wasn’t short of beautiful girls. Miss He seemed very powerful, but what use was a powerful ghost to a human?

Duan Xu thought seriously for a moment. His hand idly tapped on his bent knee as he said, “The first time my heart was moved, she was wearing a light pink lined gauze dress, holding a small pinwheel, spinning in circles as she walked toward me in the brilliant sunshine. Haha, thinking about it now, she looked a bit silly then.”

“But for me, in that instant, I felt the world was truly beautiful, and she was the reason the world became beautiful. She was an especially, especially good girl, and I hoped she would love me.”

Thinking about it, since he was seven years old until now, he had never expected anyone to love him. All his life, his wishes had been about destruction, rebuilding, salvation, and giving.

She was his only wish about “receiving.”

He wasn’t clear about what kind of person he was. He had firm desires, but he had also been acting for so long that sometimes he couldn’t distinguish between being on stage and off.

Regardless of what kind of person he was—genius, madman, oddity, or rebel—he hoped to receive her love. Then he would use all his vitality and passion, his madness and ardor, to ensure that in the hundreds of years to come, she would find no peace and would never forget him.