CALID Chapter 33

Heartbeat

With the imperial decree issued, the matter was settled. Duan Xu didn’t say much more to General Qin. As he bid farewell and left the camp, General Qin watched the young man’s figure disappear beyond the camp gate, feeling a moment of confusion.

He wondered if he had been like this when he was young—sharp, reckless, and relentless.

The long years and the comfort of the border had worn down his ambition to reclaim the land, leading him to indulge in the turbulent power struggles of the court. Now, he realized that he was trapped in endless political entanglements, unable even to appreciate and promote a talented young man who belonged to a different faction.

Would this young man, when he reached Qin Huanda’s age, remember his aspirations? Would he be entangled in the dust and unable to extricate himself, finding every step difficult?

Qin Huanda sighed deeply, closing the imperial decree before him.

Just as Duan Xu stepped out of General Qin’s camp, he saw a familiar attendant waiting by the door. After a brief thought, he recognized him as one of Zheng An’s men.

The attendant bowed to him respectfully, saying, “General Duan, Magistrate Zheng requests your presence.”

Duan Xu smiled and nodded, saying, “Thank you.”

He followed the attendant through the camp and arrived at Zheng An’s carriage. The attendant lifted the curtain and said to Duan Xu, “Please, General.”

Duan Xu lifted his robe and stepped onto the carriage, bowing as he entered. As soon as he got inside, he met Zheng An’s gaze. Zheng An pointed to the seat beside him and said, “Please, have a seat, General.”

Duan Xu sat down and greeted, “Uncle Zheng.”

Zheng An’s usually stern expression softened slightly, and a hint of a smile appeared. He had intended to pat Duan Xu’s shoulder, but he noticed the bloodstains on the armour beneath Duan Xu’s light armour.

Zheng An’s hand hesitated in mid-air before dropping down. He sighed heavily and said, “You’ve been through a lot. If Chengzhang could see you like this now, he would be heartbroken. Your elder and second brother passed away early, and now you are the only son left. If anything were to happen to you…”

“When I was young, Master Qingxuan said that I would always turn adversity into fortune. Uncle and Father need not worry.”

“The recent investigation into corruption in the horse administration in the court has angered the Emperor. Your report on the northern bank’s war situation has won his approval. As soon as the Emperor saw it, he immediately ordered me to deliver the decree to the front line. Although your name wasn’t mentioned in the decree, the Emperor admires you greatly. Combined with your outstanding military achievements, you will be highly valued when you return to the court,” Zheng An said.

Duan Xu nodded, his smile clear, “I am grateful for the support from Duke Du and all the uncles.”

“Your father and I were classmates; this is just a small matter.”

After a pause, Zheng An’s expression turned serious. “Shunxi, I want to ask you, do you have any grievances with Fang Xianye?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“This time he accused you of not reporting your memorial directly to General Qin, which violates the regulations. If it weren’t for the Emperor’s satisfaction with your memorial, you might have caused trouble again. Although Fang Xianye is under the Duke of Pei, he has repeatedly targeted you, which seems like a personal vendetta. I asked Chengzhang but didn’t get an answer. Where might you have offended him? Now he’s gaining momentum in the court, so if you speak up, we can help deal with it.”

Duan Xu showed a puzzled expression and said, “I’m not sure either. I didn’t know him before we both passed the imperial examination. My father did advise me to avoid his sharpness, but he didn’t say why.”

Zheng An remained silent for a moment, then sighed deeply.

After exchanging a few words with Zheng An again, Duan Xu took his leave. As he watched the carriage depart from the camp, his smile became somewhat elusive.

Duan Xu thought to himself that this place wasn’t much better than the unknown, just another kind of ordeal. Even among allies, they still tried various methods to extract leverage from your mouth.

He realized that the world was just a continuous series of ordeals, with no paradise to be found.

Alone in his residence, Duan Xu removed his light armour, re-bandaged the bleeding wounds, and changed into a soft round-necked robe before stepping out onto the streets. Walking among the crowds, he touched the sword in his hand, slightly hesitated, then sheathed it again.

Having just knelt and bowed in the camp, he now walked the streets, guided by the habits of his body. Only when he saw his limbs move accordingly could he believe that he was indeed in control of his body.

If he were to draw his sword and fight someone now, relying solely on the inertia of this body’s movements, what would be his chances of winning?

Losing sensation was like falling into a pit when he was five years old, surrounded by darkness with no way out. His stern father stood at the mouth of the pit, telling him, “I won’t save you; you have to climb out yourself.”

He cried from day to night, but eventually, he did climb out on his own. Since then, he had never begged for anyone’s salvation. He didn’t think anyone would save him—neither his father nor the gods. Only he could save himself.

That childish stubbornness eventually saved him, because his father truly didn’t come to save him. He didn’t know if this was fortunate or unfortunate.

Duan Xu raised his hand above his head, sunlight filtering through his fingers, casting shadows over his eyes. Through the gaps in his fingers, he looked at the warm sunlight.

These were his hands, yet he felt nothing.

His pride, the most agile and powerful body that had kept him alive, if it were to lose its strength one day, what else could he believe in?

“General!”

A familiar voice woke him up, and Duan Xu lowered his hand to see Meng Wan running towards him with a disapproving look. She said, “Shunxi, what’s the deal with your friend? She’s been touching everything on the street, damaging who knows how many things.”

She subtly expressed the meaning of “she’s too inexperienced”.

Duan Xu looked up and saw He Simu wearing the trendy light pink robe dress of the girls nowadays, holding a windmill at a street stall. She reached out and directly pinched the face of a just-made dough figurine on the stall, causing it to collapse instantly.

She continued to pinch and mould the dough figure until it became unrecognizable, her eyes full of curiosity.

The stall owner exclaimed in distress, while He Simu turned to Meng Wan and shouted without changing her expression, “Captain Meng, pay up!”

Meng Wan stomped her foot in frustration.

He Simu casually swept her hand over the tables of the stalls, smiling as she walked towards them.

The windmill in her left hand began to spin rapidly. With the warm spring breeze from the south, it passed over the surging river of the canal, through pavilions and towers, across this wide street, brushing through the gaps in her hair tips, and making the colourful little windmill in her hand spin with a faint rustling sound.

He Simu opened her arms, lifted her head, closed her eyes, and basked in the radiant sunlight. The wind blew her clothes from behind, causing them to flutter.

Duan Xu was stunned.

He suddenly remembered the moment when he killed Fifteen. The curse of “you’ll always be a monster” echoed in his exhausted and crazed mind, evil excitement and despair climbing up to strangle his throat.

And then this girl approached him, patting his face and saying, “Wake up.”

She was the first, the only one besides himself, to say “wake up” to him in so many years.

Now she was walking towards him, propelled by this bright spring day, as if she had found the ultimate happiness in this world.

Duan Xu stared at He Simu intently, then suddenly burst into laughter, his chest trembling, his eyes and brows curved. “Is this world really so lovely? Meng Wan, look at her, why is she smiling so foolishly?”

Meng Wan looked at Duan Xu somewhat bewildered.

The wind lifted his hairband, his smile radiant, like the blooming sea of begonias in the spring of Nandu.

Duan Xu always liked to smile. He smiled when good things happened, and he smiled when bad things happened. Many times, Meng Wan didn’t know what he was thinking or if he was genuinely happy.

But she searched through her memories and couldn’t find a smile on Duan Xu’s face like the one he wore now, genuinely happy and sincere.

Meng Wan hesitated, “Shunxi… you…”

Before she could ask the question, He Simu had already walked up to them. She casually said to Meng Wan, “Captain Meng, why are you still standing here? The shopkeeper wants his money.”

Meng Wan hadn’t reacted yet when Duan Xu took out his purse and handed it to her, instructing her that all the money for today’s damages should come from him.

Meng Wan asked, “Shunxi… who is this girl?”

Before Duan Xu could answer, He Simu replied on his behalf, “Didn’t I say it already? My name is Seventeen, just call me Seventeen.”

Duan Xu remained silent for a moment before smiling, “Seventeen?”

“Yeah.”

Meng Wan glanced at the two of them, sighed, and turned around to settle the bill.

He Simu felt no guilt about owing money. She spun in place twice with her windmill and exclaimed, “This is the wind!”

Clearly not yet accustomed to having a sensitive, human-like body, she stumbled a bit on the stones on the road after just two spins.

Duan Xu immediately caught her hand, and He Simu’s blushing fingers tightened between his, intertwining each of their fingers together.

She seemed to possess a lively body now, perhaps her hand was warm, no longer as cold as before — her warmth emanated from his body.

He Simu looked at their interlocked fingers and chuckled softly, “They say when fingers are intertwined, hearts are connected.”

“Hmm?”

“Then have I grasped your heart?”

Have I grasped your heart.

She said it so casually, and Duan Xu knew she was simply curious.

Their fingers intertwined seamlessly, he felt nothing at all, and yet he felt everything.

Unawareness in his hand, yet tremors in his heart.

The ice chips that had pierced his heart since she uttered “pain” finally melted, merging into his bloodstream, becoming a part of his ongoing life.

Duan Xu lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked up with a smile, his bright eyes gleaming. He said, “Yeah.”

From some unknown point in time, you have grasped hold of my heart.

He Simu was so overjoyed that she didn’t notice the boy looking at her with a focused gaze. She let go of Duan Xu’s hand and looked around at the bustling world.

Various events from the past four centuries flowed before her like waves. She murmured softly, “So it turns out you didn’t deceive me. This world is truly beautiful, not in vain have I spent these past few hundred years…”

For centuries, she had tirelessly protected this world.

Father, mother, aunt, uncle.

He Simu silently called out their names in her heart. She wanted to say that this was the first time she felt the wind and sunlight, just as they had described it — gentle and blissful.

She hadn’t disappointed them, and they hadn’t deceived her.

But where were they now?

He Simu’s gaze trembled, the extreme joy suddenly shrouded in a mist-like haze, becoming somewhat trance-like.

The boundless azure sky seemed so high, as if it could never be reached. A formation of geese flew in a neat V-shape, gradually disappearing into the azure sky. He Simu looked at the pristine blue sky and then at the bustling street below, suddenly chuckling softly.

The vastness of heaven and earth, the multitude of beings, only I walk alone.

In a lifetime of joys and sorrows, no one can speak for me.

That night, the ghost He Simu dreamt for the first time in four hundred years. Because she was an ignorant ghost who was never human, she naturally had never dreamt before, so at first, she thought it was real.

In the dream, her young mother held her hand, while her father played the flute for them in the bright white light of the setting sun.

She asked her mother why the flute sounded so pleasant, as she couldn’t discern the melody at all.

Her mother said that her father couldn’t hear it anymore either, he just understood the technique.

Then she asked, what was the meaning of her father playing the flute?

Her mother just smiled, patting her head, and said, “But I can hear it. Your father plays the flute for me because he loves me, he knows I can hear his affection. That’s why living people love music, because there’s love in it.”

Her mother continued, “Simu, the people in the world are fragile and sensitive, passionate and alive. Your power is too strong, you must learn to understand them and be gentle with them.”

One day, you will, like your father, maintain the balance between ghosts and humans, to protect this world.