When He Simu awoke from her dream, the bright moonlight shone through the paper windows, casting square patches of white light on the floor. She sat up in bed, breathing heavily, as those vivid images disappeared without a trace, taking with them the parents from her distant memories.
“What’s wrong?”
A familiar voice entered her ears. He Simu turned her head and saw Duan Xu leaning against her bedside wearing casual clothes with his arms crossed. The young man’s eyes reflected the faint moonlight, his lips curved in his usual smile. Who knew how long he had been standing there.
He Simu calmed her breathing and said softly, “What is this? There’s wind inside my body. Do all living people have wind inside them?”
“That’s breathing.”
“Yes… breathing.” He Simu exhaled deeply.
Wind inside the body is breathing.
After a pause, she looked around in a daze and said quietly, “My father and mother were just here.”
Duan Xu was somewhat surprised to hear this. He sat on the edge of He Simu’s bed and observed her expression in the moonlight. “Did you have a dream?”
“Dream?” He Simu repeated as if contemplating the meaning of this word. The images from before had faded significantly. Around her was only night and moonlight. So this was what mortals called dreams.
Mortals lived such blessed lives—they could see people they would never see again in their dreams.
He Simu remained silent for a moment, then raised her eyes to look at Duan Xu, wondering to herself why this fellow had appeared in her room in the middle of the night.
Duan Xu seemed to know what she was thinking and said casually with a smile, “I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t feel my body. I thought I was dead, which startled me so much I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come see you. I didn’t expect you to be sleeping so well, even having a nice dream.”
After a pause, Duan Xu asked, “You dreamed of your father and mother. What did you dream about them?”
He Simu glanced at this improper fellow who had entered a young lady’s room in the middle of the night and said carelessly, “I dreamed they were teaching me the rules of eating.”
Evil spirits’ rules for eating—such strange and terrifying words didn’t deter Duan Xu. He said with interest, “I’ve been curious about this for a while. Why are you so good to Chen Ying? I heard you were a friend of his father, so perhaps…”
“Yes, I ate his father. Taking care of him was the exchange condition.”
“Is that the rule for evil spirits? To make a deal with people before eating them?”
“No.” He Simu’s fingers twirled around the silk cord of the Ghost King’s lantern pendant as she said flatly, “That’s just my rule.”
Duan Xu was silent for a moment, then asked, “Why? You are the king of all ghosts. You could take anyone’s life you want. Why would you condescend to fulfill wishes for mortals?”
“Why? Are there so many ‘whys’ in this world? Is it not enough that I want to?”
Duan Xu looked at He Simu intently, the young man rarely showing such a serious, non-joking expression.
He Simu also gazed into Duan Xu’s eyes. In this prolonged silence, she knew he was trying to figure her out again. He was so fearless and irreverent toward ghosts and spirits that he harbored an intense curiosity about her, always wanting to see all of her past.
People who are mysteries themselves always enjoy solving mysteries.
He Simu leaned against the bed and said lazily, “Fine, tell me what you’re guessing now.”
“I’m afraid of offending you.”
“Never mind, your gaze is offensive enough.”
Duan Xu thought for a moment, then said out of nowhere, “Your parents must have been very gentle people. Just like you.”
“…Gentle?” He Simu raised an eyebrow.
“You can’t taste food, yet you cook and make sugar figurines; you can’t see colors, yet you paint with wonderful skill; you can’t hear melodies, yet you play musical instruments. You can’t even perceive the most ordinary things like breathing and dreaming, so why did you learn these skills that are difficult even for humans? Why do you only eat people after making deals with them? It must be that your parents wanted you to understand this world through these things.”
So powerful, yet understanding the greatness of the world, still cherishing the greenness of grass and trees.
He Simu was stunned.
In the faint moonlight, she remained silent for a while, then lowered her eyes and said noncommittally, “Perhaps.”
“Have they passed away?”
“Yes.”
“How did they pass away?”
“My mother reached her natural age quite normally. My father… I heard he died of a broken heart.”
He Simu’s tone could be described as calm.
Duan Xu looked at her while He Simu stared at the white moonlight on the ground. The moonlight came through the windows, illuminating countless dust particles in the air, like a fine snowfall.
Silent cold light, lonely eternal brightness.
It was said that this was a judgment her father had received in his youth. Now it seemed that this judgment was not meant for her father but for all Ghost Kings.
Suddenly, something not too heavy patted her face, and the sensation called pain spread. He Simu raised her eyes to look at Duan Xu, his hand still lingering by her face.
“Wake up,” Duan Xu said.
After a pause, he added, “The dream is over.”
In the bright moonlight, Duan Xu’s silhouette was soft, his gaze firm and focused, as if his heart was as vast as heaven and earth, yet only contained the one person before him.
He Simu was silent for a moment, then pushed his hand away and smiled slightly, saying, “If I had even a little of my powers back, your hand would be gone just now.”
Duan Xu smiled brightly and sincerely, exclaiming, “I truly turn misfortune into good fortune. I’ve saved another hand.”
He Simu thought to herself that this young general was truly one who took a mile when given an inch.
However, his hand was soft and warm.
Were all mortals this warm?