Love Beyond the Grave – CH 107

Chapter 107. The Sinking Jade

When the moon reached its zenith, Jiang Ai once again saw Chenying beneath the Golden Wall of Ephemeral Mountain.

He sat cross-legged against the wall, the open Ghost Register resting on his lap. The Ghost King Lantern cast an eerie glow beside him, and he rested his arm on it, studying the records intently by its light.

The little fellow had spent the day assisting her with political affairs and was now reading the Ghost Register at night. Though demons didn’t need sleep, Chenying’s stamina was astonishing—he could go months without rest, tirelessly working without pause.

Jiang Ai’s first impression of this Ghost Realm Crown Prince had been a bloodied corpse cradled in He Simu’s arms. She’d heard he was only fourteen when he died, pierced by countless arrows on the battlefield. His unyielding determination to protect He Simu and Duan Xu had bound his soul, turning him into a wandering ghost. He Simu’s hands had trembled as she held his body—unlike someone accustomed to life and death, as a demon should be.

He Simu buried Chenying’s body in the back mountains of Yuzhou City, beside her parents’ graves.

The second time Jiang Ai saw Chenying was on Ephemeral Mountain, after he had become a demon and had gone to visit his own grave. He stood before his tombstone, bending down to examine it carefully for a long time, his expression eerily calm.

“So I really am dead.”

After saying this, he turned to look at He Simu and Duan Xu beside him and smiled.

“When I died, I was still thinking… Third Brother and Sister Xiaoxiao-Simu had gone missing, and your wishes hadn’t been fulfilled yet. I had to see you again, had to make your dreams come true. And then I really did see you again. How lucky.”

Back then, the boy had been dressed in black, his face pale and delicate, his expression caught somewhere between a child’s innocence and an adult’s maturity. She wondered what he had been like in life. If he had grown up, he would have been quite handsome.

To die pierced by countless arrows, to suffer such agony—yet he could still call it “lucky.” Truly a strange person. No wonder he became a demon.

At the time, He Simu’s eyes had welled up as she embraced Chenying. Jiang Ai realized that ever since becoming human, He Simu had grown prone to tears.

Simu, that child, had finally stopped pretending to be strong. She was allowed to have her own weaknesses now.

Jiang Ai was happy for her.

Later, when He Simu had the Ghost King Lantern choose between Jiang Ai and Chenying as its master, it unexpectedly chose Chenying. Jiang Ai was both shocked and relieved—relieved because she had no desire to become the Ghost King, and shocked because the lantern had chosen someone like Chenying, a newly turned demon with such feeble magical power.

Chenying didn’t seem naturally gifted like He Simu.

Over the years, Jiang Ai acted as regent for the Ghost Realm while Chenying familiarized himself with its workings and learned the ways of rulership under her and He Simu’s guidance. She gradually realized that while Chenying lacked He Simu’s immense magical talent, if diligence could be considered a gift, then he was a genius in his own right.

She had never met a demon more hardworking and focused than Chenying. He seemed completely unaware of how harshly he drove himself, constantly pushing his limits, testing how far he could go.

People grew weary and slackened—demons even more so. But Chenying never did. He wasn’t impatient, either. Day after day, month after month, he simply continued his efforts without pause.

The implementation of the Thirty-Two Golden Wall Laws and the suppression of rebellions had brought the Ghost Realm into a period of stability. Given the rapid progress of Chenying’s magical power and administrative abilities, He Simu would likely see him formally take charge of the Ghost Realm within her lifetime.

Jiang Ai sometimes wondered if this was precisely why Chenying worked so hard.

He Simu also had her concerns, though not about Chenying’s capabilities. She worried whether the title of Ghost King would become a shackle for him, just as it had once constrained her. She asked Jiang Ai to subtly probe Chenying about it.

This proved to be quite a challenge. “Subtle probing” was nearly impossible in conversations with Chenying—unless Duan Xu or He Simu came to visit him, he never engaged in idle chatter. Every question and answer revolved around serious matters, as if no trivial matter could steal even a moment of his time.

Jiang Ai cleared her throat.

Chenying didn’t hear her, his attention entirely absorbed by the book in front of him.

Jiang Ai thought she should have brought along Bai Sanxing, the loudmouth of her household—he would surely have disrupted Chenying’s focus.

“Chenying,” she called out as she walked up to him.

Finally lifting his gaze, Chenying smiled at the sight of her and greeted, “Aunt Jiang Ai.”

He Simu’s father called her “Aunt Jiang Ai”; He Simu called her “Aunt Jiang Ai”; and now this teenage ghost was doing the same. It seemed she was destined to be an “aunt” for eternity.

With a sigh, Jiang Ai sat down beside him and asked, “Reading the Ghost Register again?”

“Mm. I need to familiarize myself with the demons from the Twenty-Four Ghost Palaces over the past three centuries and understand why people in the world become demons. Speaking of which, I actually have a question I’d like to ask—”

Jiang Ai felt a headache coming on and waved her hand. “Chenying, let’s not talk about that right now. Simu just sent word—she and Duan Xu are holding a wedding.”

Chenying’s eyes immediately lit up with excitement. “Third Brother and Sister Xiaoxiao are finally tying the knot! Where will it be held? Yuzhou City? With half the guests being demons and the other half humans, the banquet arrangements will need careful thought…”

Seeing the rare liveliness on Chenying’s face, as if he had suddenly come alive, Jiang Ai propped her chin on her hand and asked, “Little Chenying, do you envy them?”

Chenying froze for a moment, his pale face reflecting the blue glow of the lantern.

“Envy what?”

“Simu and Duan Xu have become human. They have their five senses, live passionately, can marry, and grow old together. But you’re dead, and you still have to learn all these complicated things to hold up the Ghost Realm. Don’t you envy them? Do you truly want to be the Ghost King?”

A look of surprise crossed Chenying’s youthful face. He answered matter-of-factly, “Third Brother and Sister Xiaoxiao becoming human and spending their lives together is one of my own wishes. Since my wish has come true, what is there to envy? Besides, I don’t feel that being dead is bad in any way. Sister and Third Brother are still by my side—what has really changed in this world?”

After a pause, he seemed to grasp what Jiang Ai was getting at and added, “Sister once said that the throne demands sacrifice, but I have nothing to sacrifice. The most important things in this world to me are Sister and Third Brother. Their wishes are my life’s purpose. Third Brother has already reclaimed the seventeen provinces, and Sister wishes to maintain the balance between the human world and the Ghost Realm. So becoming the Ghost King and fulfilling this duty—that is my wish.”

Though Jiang Ai had long known that Chenying’s obsession was protecting He Simu and Duan Xu, this was the first time she felt so clearly that it was truly an “obsession.”

She frowned. “What about you? What about yourself?”

“This is my own wish.”

“What if Simu and Duan Xu pass away after a hundred years?”

“Then they’ll have descendants, people they cherish. I’ll do my best to protect the world they’re in.” Chenying lowered his head to look at the Ghost Register and said, “I know I’m not as clever as my sister or Third Brother, and I’m not sure if I can do it well, but I’ll try my best.”

Jiang Ai didn’t know what to say to that.

She realized there was something special about Chenying—he placed little importance on “himself” but held those around him in the highest regard. Perhaps it was because he had lost his family one after another at a young age that he clung so deeply to the new family he found later—He Simu and Duan Xu.

Jiang Ai thought that if this child grew up, he would get better. Once he had his own family and more loved ones, his fixation on He Simu and Duan Xu would gradually fade.

But Chenying never got the chance to grow up like a normal boy.

Jiang Ai patted Chenying’s head and said, “Simu and I both know how hard you’re trying. There isn’t a demon in this world more diligent or kinder than you.”

She seemed to understand now why the Ghost King Lantern had chosen Chenying.

“You’ll probably make a fine Ghost King.”

Chenying smiled, tucked away the Ghost Register, and lifted the Ghost King Lantern cheerfully. “Let’s go find them first!”

Jiang Ai watched as Chenying hummed a tune and walked down the mountain, his tall, slender figure casting no shadow under the moonlight. She smiled too and shook her head.

The Ghost King before the last, He Yicheng, was the one who established order in chaotic times. The previous Ghost King, He Simu, was the one who refined the laws in peaceful times. And the Ghost King who came after, Xue Chenying, was the one who upheld the laws in prosperous times.

Later, under his rule, the Ghost Realm, the human realm, and the Immortal Sects maintained peace for over a thousand years.

But those distant events aside, in the fifth year of the Xinhe era, a grand wedding was held in the prefectural city of Daizhou. The bridal procession stretched endlessly like a dragon, and the attendants scattered pearls and silver coins to the onlookers lining the streets. The clamor of gongs and drums and the crackling of firecrackers filled the sky, and the entire city was blanketed in red paper scraps, as if a crimson snowstorm had swept through.

The banquet lasted three days, astonishing all of Daizhou.

No one had expected that the renowned painter, Miss He Simu, possessed such vast wealth that she could splurge extravagantly to take in a husband. Years later, the people of Daizhou were still talking about that wedding. Some said, “Had I known, I would’ve tried to be the He family’s live-in son-in-law too,” while others retorted, “Don’t delude yourself—you clearly haven’t seen Miss He’s bridegroom.”

Back then, under the brilliant summer sun, the bridegroom rode past in red robes embroidered with gold, his face radiant with smiles. Anyone who saw him would say there was no more handsome young man in the world.

Even decades later, when Zhao Xing, the governor of Qízhou, rebelled and declared himself emperor. He conquered the southern capital, established a new dynasty, moved the capital north, posthumously honored a deceased scholar surnamed Fang as the Imperial Tutor, and erected monuments to the late general Duan Shunxi. Amid all these legends, the people of Daizhou still reminisced fondly about that magnificent wedding and the long-departed He Simu and her husband.

It seemed that, in those decades, this remained Daizhou’s most celebrated legend.