Heavy snow fell in flurries, rustling down.

A living person was discussing “a lifetime” with a dead person. Xu Hexue almost instantly turned his face. He lowered his eyelids, looking down at the woman below.

Actually there was no expression on his pale face. Those eyes remained cold and clear as always. Only luminous dust clustered, floating faintly, spreading through mid-air.

Ni Su extended her finger and lightly touched a grain of luminous dust. “Xu Hexue, come down.”

Her gentle voice was like some baseless enticement. Almost before Xu Hexue could react, his body had already transformed into light mist descending from the tree shade, then instantly condensing into a faint form.

Ni Su looked at him.

The snow-white robe was covered in dried bloodstains, without the color of fresh wounds soaking the garment. “You don’t want me to be that person anymore?”

What?

Xu Hexue’s eyelashes trembled.

“The person who summoned you back,” Ni Su spoke word by word, “the person you’re willing to be attached to.”

“No.”

He said.

The suspended beast pearl fell back into Ni Su’s hands. She walked toward him step by step. “Lord Earth Elder told me he gave you something that can let you temporarily escape the restrictions between us, right?”

That disappeared tangerine had exchanged for Ni Su a dream.

In the dream, she was at the River of Hatred’s shore, among the reed flower fields, encountering the beast-headed, human-bodied Earth Elder of the Nether Capital.

Xu Hexue noticed her footsteps slowing, seeming somewhat inconvenienced. He raised his eyelids. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Ni Su spoke calmly.

She drew closer and closer, carrying the lantern, holding incense candles, walking beneath this tree shade. Wind blew the snow accumulated on withered branches down in clusters, sweeping past her temples, staining her crimson garment.

“What did Yelu Zhen say to you before he died?” She pressed closer step by step. “You found him, didn’t you?”

She stared at him fixedly. “You’re going to kill Wu Dai? You’re going to lead souls into the Nether Capital, using yourself as the price, aren’t you?”

What Earth Elder of the Nether Capital gave him, though it could temporarily free him from dependence on the summoner, required him to pay the price of self-damaging his spirit and soul.

“Do you think that since you’ll leave sooner or later anyway, whatever price you pay, in your view, doesn’t matter?”

“No.”

Xu Hexue’s face still showed no expression. “Not only Wu Dai—those who harmed the Jing’an Army, it’s not just one cause, not just one person.”

“I know.”

Actually Ni Su also understood that those who caused Xu Hexue and the thirty thousand Jing’an Army to suffer unjust wrongs had never been just one person, one matter.

But the wronged souls in the treasure pagoda could no longer wait too long for him.

“But Xu Ziling,”

Ni Su finally drew near him. “There’s still time, isn’t there? Can you… wait a little longer?”

“Can you spare me a little time?”

She struggled to suppress the sourness surging in her chest. “We haven’t yet reached a dead end—these are words you once said to me.”

Xu Hexue stared at her blankly.

Her black hair was pinned with pearls and a gold walking ornament, not that lotus root gold hairpin.

Ni Su’s feet were stiff and cold, her knees still aching. One foot sank into collapsed snow, her form unsteady. Xu Hexue almost immediately extended his hand, but unexpectedly she grasped his wrist.

Cold wind billowed Ni Su’s crimson, wide sleeves. Her originally fair, delicate wrist bones had already been scraped red by snow grains.

The armful of incense candles and the glazed lantern she held fell to the ground. Fortunately the snow was thick—the candle flames extinguished, but the lantern didn’t shatter.

Xu Hexue’s vision suddenly went pitch black.

But this darkness made his senses even more acute. He felt her fingers lightly rubbing the skin at his wrist, felt her fingers threading through his, tightly gripping his hand.

Her embrace let Xu Hexue feel the warmth of her body even more truly.

Warm enough to make him tremble.

Wind and snow howled. Luminous dust floated wildly.

Several strands of disheveled hair swayed slightly. Who knows how long passed before Xu Hexue moved his lightly colored lips:

“Ni A’xi, don’t hug me—I’m cold.”

“I know.”

Because I know you’re cold, that’s why I’m hugging you.

Xu Hexue’s form trembled. Even though these eyes couldn’t see anything, he still couldn’t help but lower his head. His chin suddenly touched the ornament in her hair.

Ni Su saw silvery-white light like a silver snake swimming, entwining their clasped hands, then vanishing in an instant.

“Lord Earth Elder told me that as long as I touch you, what he gave you will temporarily lose its effect, right?”

“Yes.”

Xu Hexue heard his own voice.

Before her, when he was at a loss, he was always this compliant.

“Let’s go home.”

She said.

Compared to a ghost or spirit, Xu Hexue felt at this moment he was more like a puppet. Just hearing her voice, being embraced by her like this—the desires in his heart would transform into strings she held in her hand, and he was willing, controlled by her, constrained by her.

“What happened to your leg?”

Xu Hexue carried her on his back. Following her guidance, he walked forward step by step.

“Prefect Shen mentioned me in his memorial. Imperial Noble Consort therefore summoned me. Because I refused to write her a prescription, she had me kneel as punishment.” Ni Su had changed clothes in haste. She’d brought incense candles but forgotten to bring a fire starter. Now the glazed lantern she held couldn’t be used either. Fortunately, though the snow was heavy tonight, they still had the sky full of bright stars and clear moonlight as companions.

Hearing this, Xu Hexue’s footsteps paused.

He had known none of this.

“You’re about to hit a tree, Xu Ziling.”

The young woman on his back reminded him. “A bit to the left.”

“Mm.”

Xu Hexue responded softly.

Goose-feather snow swept past lanterns under eaves. Those weren’t lit by Ni Su. The row upon row of lamp shadows on South Locust Street reflected in Xu Hexue’s vacant eyes. He listened carefully to her voice, carrying her up the steps, from the front hall to the rear corridor.

Bright candlelight passed through the lattice window. Hazy light and shadow fell into his eyes.

Xu Hexue’s thick lashes lifted slightly. He followed that projected light and shadow forward toward his room.

Red candles dripped in the room. A crudely cut double-happiness character was crookedly pasted on that plain gauze screen. Xu Hexue suddenly stopped.

Ni Su was set down by him. She followed his gaze and couldn’t help but smile. “It should be Qingqiong who cut it—looks like he’s still not skilled.”

As she spoke, she placed the beast pearl in the center of the offering fruits, drew out several incense sticks and lit them with the fire starter. Wisps of white smoke curled upward. “Today, did you see Little Lord Zhou?”

Xu Hexue stood there. Hearing her voice, he vaguely came back to himself.

“You saw what he sent? What else did you see?” Ni Su turned her head. “Did you also see him hand me something belonging to his mother?”

After a moment of silence, Xu Hexue turned his face away and said: “You stared at it for a very long time.”

Ni Su looked at him and suddenly laughed. “After a hundred years in the Nether Capital, have you completely forgotten the human realm’s rules for men and women marrying?”

A trace of confusion appeared in Xu Hexue’s cold, clear eyes.

“Almost no one rushes to marry on the same day they receive betrothal gifts,” Ni Su’s eyes curved. “Also, why would you think I’d agree to him?”

“Just because I stared at that hairpin for a long time?”

Ni Su walked before him. “I stared because it reminded me of my mother. Mother also once had a similar gold hairpin. Seeing it, I thought of how I should escape the consort’s scheme.”

“What did the Imperial Noble Consort do?”

Xu Hexue immediately fixed his gaze on her.

“The consort intends to arrange my marriage to Huang Li, second son of Chancellor Huang Zongyu.” In the room was a charcoal brazier not yet burned out. Ni Su’s body finally wasn’t so cold. “Little Lord Zhou came today wanting to help me escape this predicament, but I don’t want to implicate him because of my own affairs.”

Xu Hexue’s impression of Huang Zongyu wasn’t deep, but hearing Ni Su address him as “Chancellor Huang,” he could guess that after his teacher Zhang Jing died, this person had taken the position of Vice Chancellor.

He also wasn’t hard-pressed to clarify the whole affair’s context from Ni Su’s scattered words.

But Xu Hexue was also very clear that if that Vice Envoy Zhou merely held thoughts of helping Ni Su escape her predicament, he need not have sent out his mother’s belongings.

“So today I visited Chancellor Huang.”

Xu Hexue heard her voice and raised his eyes again. Her lips were crimson as rouge, carrying a hint of smile. “I told him I observe mourning for my mother and also observe chastity for one person.”

“Ni Su…”

Xu Hexue’s heart shook.

He had always avoided this room full of red candles so different from usual, even the crudely cut, malformed double-happiness character on the screen he hadn’t looked at much. Yet she pressed closer step by step, leaving him no escape.

After a long while, Xu Hexue’s Adam’s apple rolled lightly. “You know I’m different from you.”

His voice trembled.

Different paths for humans and ghosts.

He could hardly have a flesh and blood body, couldn’t like a living person walk before her openly and honorably under bright daylight.

He returned to the mortal realm originally to shelter under her eaves. He possessed nothing, not even a clean reputation.

“The only difference between us is the distinction between life and death.”

Ni Su gazed at his flawlessly pale face. “Different paths for humans and ghosts, yet different paths can also lead to the same destination, can’t they? I’m telling you this because I want you to know that even if you’re not by my side, I can still live well on my own. When you leave me, I’ll certainly be sad, but sadness won’t make me lose hope for life.”

“Because of you, I know even more the preciousness of life. Even without you, I’ll still live my own days well, fulfill my and elder brother’s aspirations. But regrets—if there can be fewer, I still hope for fewer.”

Ni Su extended her hand and hooked his waist sash.

Xu Hexue was at a loss, retreating step by step until he could retreat no more. He stumbled and sat at the bed’s edge.

Ni Su took advantage to untie his waist sash, removing his outer robe.

She examined the vermillion inner robe on his body, extended her hand to pull him up, bringing him before the incense table. Incense sticks burned. That beast pearl lay quietly on the offering fruits.

“Xu Ziling, I think in this lifetime I’ll definitely never meet anyone better than you.” Ni Su’s eyelids were moist, yet she smiled. “I originally intended that regardless of others, I must observe mourning for mother for three years. But now I must wrong mother, because I’m afraid—”

She looked up at him. “I’m afraid if I miss this moment, we’ll never have another chance.”

Wanting a lifetime with him was a very difficult thing.

But the moment Ni Su followed the beast pearl to find him, she still said so.

“Let’s have this moment, all right?”

She smiled, yet tears fell from her eyes.

Red candles flickered. Between warm yellow lamp shadows, Xu Hexue gazed at her for a long time. He extended his hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek.

“We won’t bow to heaven and earth—we’ll bow to Lord Earth Elder.”

Ni Su grasped his hand and knelt together with him before the beast pearl on the incense table. “I promised Lord Earth Elder I’d make offerings to him for life.”

This was truly too much like an illusory dream born from Xu Hexue’s desires.

His restraint and caution all vanished because of her tears, her words. His thoughts were chaotic. Kneeling before the incense table with her, his vermillion hem and her wedding dress almost merged into one color.

Wind and snow struck the window. Inside the room was silent.

Ni Su sat at the bed’s edge, lowering her head to watch Xu Hexue roll up her silk pants. Her knees had already changed from red and swollen to bruised. His ice-cold fingertips rubbed medicinal ointment on her knees. He suddenly said: “Ni A’xi, I’m very ashamed.”

“What?”

Xu Hexue raised his head. His cold, clear face still showed no excess emotion, yet he said: “My not daring made you walk toward me—you walked very hard.”

“I know you’re not afraid.”

Ni Su’s eyelids were red. She looked at a strand of pale hair falling at his cheek. His eyes were translucent and clean. She suddenly extended her hand to grab his collar. She lowered her head and pressed against his ice-cold, soft lips.

Very lightly, very lightly.

Xu Hexue’s entire body stiffened. His eyelashes trembled.

Suddenly,

Her laughter fell. Only then did Xu Hexue realize his luminous dust was scattering and leaping like fireworks. All his innermost thoughts had nowhere to hide.

Ni Su pressed her forehead against his forehead.

“However you think of me in your heart, I all know. But I want to tell you—even if you say nothing to me, when you leave I’ll still miss you very much. Since it’s the same missing either way, why should we let down this time when we can still be together? Whether there’s eternity in this world I don’t know. If we can live well in the present, let’s live well in the present.”

She said: “Xu Ziling, you’re someone who swims against the current, and so am I. You know my temperament—if not someone who truly understands me, believes in me, I’d rather be alone than have any husband. A woman’s life isn’t necessarily confined to romantic love.”

Because she too was someone swimming against the current, the road she’d walked had also been so arduous.

But she had never feared such hardship.

Xu Hexue said nothing, only raised his head to look up at her. He didn’t know that the lip rouge on her lips had been rubbed pale at his lips because of her kiss.

He only saw her suddenly curve her eyes again in a smile.

He didn’t know what she was smiling about. He wanted to embrace her, so he did.

His arms tightened very firmly, drawing her into his embrace.

“Are you cold?”

He asked.

Ni Su shook her head, smiling as she hugged his waist.

“I don’t want you constrained by worldly conventions,”

Xu Hexue touched her hair. “Nor do I want you constrained by me.”

Ni Su’s chin rested on his shoulder. “You’ve never confined me. You’re even the person who most hopes I’m free and unfettered, not a caged bird, right?”

“Mm.”

Xu Hexue responded.

He hoped she would be willful, and must be happy. She was the woman he admired in his heart, a woman who would absolutely not fear because of worldly conventions.

In this lifetime, she had a very long road to walk.

If possible, how he wished he could accompany her on that walk—even as grass and trees, even as fine dust.

Ni Su extinguished all the candle flames in the room. Only moonlight sweeping in from outside the lattice window and the luminous dust floating around Xu Hexue’s body remained. But his luminous dust couldn’t illuminate his eyes—it could only let her return before him by this floating dim light.

“Ni Su?”

Xu Hexue’s hands pressed on his knees as he called her.

“Why aren’t you calling me Ni A’xi anymore?” Ni Su bent close to him.

Her warm breath brushed lightly. Xu Hexue almost instantly gripped the fabric on his knees, then heard her say: “I like hearing you call me that.”

Each sentence she spoke almost crushed his rationality.

“That chest—is it the one you buried in childhood?”

She spoke such words to him, yet Xu Hexue felt her hand descend. He couldn’t see, yet his senses followed her actions with unusual acuteness.

Sashes loosened. The warmth of her palm was like covering ice, moving very slowly back and forth.

“Yes…”

His teeth trembled slightly.

“Why did you give it to me?”

Ni Su’s voice was suddenly very close, right at his ear. “I remember—that was the private savings you were hiding from your fierce wife.”

“I said before I’d give it to you.”

Xu Hexue struggled unbearably, wanting to avoid her hand.

“Then what do you want me to consider it as?”

In the rustling sound of fabric rubbing, Ni Su’s hand stopped at his waist, where there seemed to be a wound, already scabbed but not healed. “Betrothal gifts?”

Her fingertip very lightly, very lightly passed over that scar. Xu Hexue tilted his head back. His face remained pale. He made no sound, nor would he flush, only tightened his jaw.

Ni Su looked at him. Several strands of dark hair fell at his ear. The skin at his neck was cold and white, blood vessels pale blue. His prominent Adam’s apple was angular, rolling unbearably lightly.

Her fingers finally forced from him a single sound: “…Yes.”

Ni Su made an “mm” sound and said: “I’ll use a lifetime of incense candles as my dowry, all right?”

Xu Hexue abruptly extended his hand to confine her in his embrace. He couldn’t care that his embrace was so cold. His lips lightly suckled her lips, clumsy yet careful.

“Ni A’xi, why do you think no one could be better than me?”

In the darkness, he cupped her face.

“You’re always self-examining, always self-sacrificing. In life you were honorable and upright; in death you’re still sincere to people. You say you admire me, but actually I admire you more in my heart.” Ni Su grasped his wrist. “Though life is not yet half over, I’m certain that for the rest of this life, for me, there will never be a better husband than Little Presented Scholar General.”

The two words “husband” fell upon Xu Hexue’s ears.

The moment she bent down, he moved up. These eyes couldn’t see anything, yet he still gently kissed her, clumsy lips and teeth entangling.

Brief gasping sounds, eyes without light yet somewhat moist—stripping away the cold exterior like frost and snow, revealing his desires.

If only he were a person.

He would embrace her even more wantonly, kiss her, hold her hand, accompany her walking very far, very far.

Again that cold breath of accumulated snow burying spring flowers. Ni Su looked at him in the faintly floating luminous light, different from his usual appearance of strict dress, always proper, always maintaining ritual propriety.

At this moment, his vermillion inner robe was loose, sashes completely undone. Even having died, he still possessed that nineteen-year-old young general’s body. Even with scars not yet faded, still young and beautiful.

“Don’t look at me.”

He said.

“I’m not looking.”

She answered.

She was lying. Yet Xu Hexue didn’t know how to respond. He hooked one hand around the back of her neck, pressing her down, tightly confining her in his embrace.

But suddenly,

He sensed her soft, warm palm enveloping him.

“Ni A’xi…”

He trembled, gasping lightly.

“So cold.”

Ni Su’s hair occasionally brushed his profile.

Her cheeks flushed red, yet her voice held a trace of curiosity.

Xu Hexue was helpless. He couldn’t even bear to push her away. But at this moment all his restraint, all his forbearance were easily broken by her.

He was unbearably uncomfortable, yet trembled unable to control himself.

“But it’s all right.”

Ni Su buried her face in his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his. “Xu Ziling, you absolutely must not think this is ruining or harming me. It truly isn’t.”

“I want to do this. I want to touch you.”