My Partner Always Wants to Dig My Grave - Chapter 17

Si Wan gazed at the female ghost before her, who wore a faintly smug expression, her eyes lingering on the hairpin tucked into the dark tresses. The white jade material appeared flawless against the ink-black hair, lending an unusual elegance to Sheng Zhen, who had her long locks elegantly coiled up.

Sheng Zhen’s beauty was like a flower blooming in the depths of an abyss, on the verge of decay, decadent yet irresistibly captivating.

Seeing Si Wan’s silent demeanor, Song Yan and Liu Yaoyao grew anxious, assuming she was seething with anger. They shivered involuntarily, and Song Yan hurriedly spoke up.

“Professor Si, let’s go search again. We must have missed something.”

Liu Yaoyao nodded in agreement, and the two of them prepared to leave.

Just then, Si Wan’s voice stopped them in their tracks.

“No need to search anymore.”

Her tone was calm, giving no indication of whether she was truly angry.

Before Song Yan could respond, Liu Yaoyao frowned anxiously and asked, “Why not? During your lecture, you emphasized that every burial artifact is a significant discovery for the field of archaeology.”

Si Wan was regarded as a prodigy in archaeology. Despite her youth, she had been entrusted with major responsibilities and had risen to the position of professor, serving as an inspiration to students in the field. Liu Yaoyao couldn’t believe Si Wan would say such a thing.

At Liu Yaoyao’s words, Si Wan’s brow furrowed slightly. Before she could speak, she saw Sheng Zhen drift over to Liu Yaoyao, leaning in to scrutinize her for a moment with a hint of displeasure.

“Are you children being unreasonable? How could your Professor Si take back a gift that was given to me?”

She emphasized the words “Professor Si” deliberately, as if to provoke.

A chilly breeze accompanied Sheng Zhen’s approach, causing Liu Yaoyao to sneeze. Hearing the sound, Song Yan immediately turned to her with concern.

Listening to Sheng Zhen’s words, Si Wan’s gaze returned to her, studying her with intense focus, comparing her to a certain figure from her dreams.

Yet, no matter how she compared them, a voice in her heart insisted it wasn’t right, overturning all her previous assumptions.

None of the people in her dreams matched Sheng Zhen, yet the hairpin was undeniably the same one from her dreams.

Sheng Zhen had mentioned more than once that the hairpin was a gift from “her.”

This “her” wasn’t Si Wan herself but the true owner of the hairpin from her dreams.

At this thought, Si Wan’s eyelashes trembled slightly, the shadows cast by her lashes concealing the complex emotions that flickered in her eyes.

Unaware of Si Wan’s inner turmoil, Sheng Zhen floated closer, her crimson pupils reflecting Si Wan’s image. She cupped Si Wan’s face with her cold hands, studying her intently before expressing concern.

“You look terrible. You were crying in your sleep.”

Hearing this, Si Wan was once again reminded of the overwhelming sorrow in her dreams, a grief that didn’t belong to her.

Misinterpreting Si Wan’s change in expression as embarrassment, Sheng Zhen chuckled softly and couldn’t resist pinching Si Wan’s cheek, her tone almost comforting.

“Don’t worry, I would never let anyone know you cry.”

Her words sounded like lines from a cheesy drama, but the sincerity in her voice left Si Wan momentarily dazed.

But then, Si Wan once again met the other’s tender gaze, uncertain whether the reflection in those eyes was her own or someone else.

Even she herself hadn’t noticed the fleeting loneliness that passed through her eyes.

Sheng Zhen reached out and touched the corner of Si Wan’s eye, asking,
“Why are you about to cry again?”

Si Wan ignored Sheng Zhen’s words, feeling that she must have been influenced by the other.

“If it’s been taken away and the owner is unwilling, there’s nothing we can do.”

She was implying that the hairpin was now in Sheng Zhen’s possession, and even she herself couldn’t retrieve it.

After all, it was originally Sheng Zhen’s property. From Sheng Zhen’s perspective, they were the thieves, constantly trying to take what was rightfully hers.

Sheng Zhen’s hand moved to the hairpin in her own hair, gently tracing the carved patterns. A hint of pride gleamed in her eyes as she lifted her chin and said,
“And what if I’m unwilling?”

Si Wan glanced at her, ultimately realizing she could only sigh helplessly to herself.

Upon hearing Si Wan’s words, Song grew anxious and spoke urgently.
“How can that be? Officer Song and the others will be here tomorrow. We should let-”

Before Song Yan could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by Si Wan’s sudden coughing.

Sheng Zhen, standing beside Si Wan, cast a sidelong glance at Song Yan, who was still intent on retrieving the hairpin. Then, noticing Si Wan’s indifferent expression, she curled her lips into a playful smile, leaned close to Si Wan’s ear, and spoke in a deliberately suggestive tone.
“When you climbed into my bed back then, it was you who gave it to me with your own hands.”

Si Wan’s breath hitched for a moment at Sheng Zhen’s words. Her face flushed red as she coughed, forgetting for a moment that others were present, and hurriedly denied it.
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.”

Hearing Si Wan’s slightly raised voice, Song Yan and Liu Yaoyao exchanged puzzled glances before turning their confused gazes toward Si Wan.

Realizing her own impropriety, Si Wan covered her mouth with her hand and coughed again, her expression instantly returning to its usual cold and composed demeanor, as if the previous outburst had never happened.

But Sheng Zhen clearly had no intention of letting her off the hook. Her gaze burned with an intensity that made Si Wan blush, causing her heart to beat faster.
“What do you mean it wasn’t you? You were the one who blew out the red candles, you were the one who drew the curtains, and my dress-”

Every word she spoke carried an unprecedented suggestiveness, making Si Wan’s ears burn red. Unable to bear it any longer, Si Wan hastily kicked the female ghost beside her off the bed, silencing her.

From under the bed, Sheng Zhen poked her head out, looking at Si Wan with a pitiful expression, as if accusing her of being rough. The sight made Si Wan’s heart race uncontrollably.

Finally regaining her composure, Si Wan noticed that the other two were still staring at her in astonishment, waiting for an explanation.

Feeling a headache coming on, Si Wan spoke to them.
“I’m fine. You two should leave now.”

Despite her words, the two of them clearly didn’t believe her.

After a moment of hesitation, Song Yan still refused to give up and said,
“But the hairpin-”

At the mention of it, Si Wan warned them in a calm tone.
“Don’t speak a word about the hairpin to anyone.”

If Guan Yue found out, that person would only go to unnecessary trouble again.

Hearing Si Wan’s warning, they knew it was futile to argue further and could only agree for the time being.

As Song Yan was closing the door for Si Wan, she suddenly heard Si Wan speak coldly from inside the room.

“Why haven’t you left yet?”

Song Yan’s hand paused mid-air, her intention to re-enter halted as the door slammed shut as if blown by a fierce gust of wind. When she tried to open it again, she found it firmly locked.

Sheng Zhen had originally intended to return to Si Wan’s side, but upon hearing those abrupt words, she froze momentarily before lifting her gaze. Si Wan sat on the bed, looking down at her with an aloof and detached expression that inexplicably stirred memories within Sheng Zhen.

Seeing that reminiscent look on Sheng Zhen’s face again, Si Wan felt nothing but a chilling coldness in her heart.

Si Wan spoke softly, yet her words pierced through Sheng Zhen’s long-still heart like shards of ice.

“From the very beginning of your appearance, I couldn’t understand why. But whether human or ghost, everyone approaches something with their own purpose. While I was asleep, I had a dream that made your intentions clear to me.”

Every word she uttered carried extreme calmness, spoken with logical reasoning to the ghost before her.

Sheng Zhen raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, “What?”

“In my dream, I saw this hairpin. You said it was a gift from someone, it must be the person from my dream. As for me, you’re treating me as someone who resembles a figure from your memories.”

Her tone was so earnest, as if lecturing in a classroom, that it left no room for rebuttal.

Si Wan glanced at Sheng Zhen and, seeing her silent with no intention to interrupt, continued indifferently.

“You could call it a past life, but I don’t believe in such things.”

Sheng Zhen stood up, crossing her arms, her eyes filled with a disappointed coldness. “So, you’re driving me away? Are you tired of me?”

Si Wan shook her head and said, “No,” then spoke as if trying to guide her. “You must understand, you’ve been dead for a thousand years. The person you call an old acquaintance is also dead…”

Before Si Wan could finish, Sheng Zhen interrupted her, her voice slightly raised with a barely perceptible edge of despair. “So, what if she’s dead?! She died behind my back!”

Hearing this, Si Wan was momentarily stunned, the words she had intended to say stuck awkwardly in her throat.

Si Wan looked at her, instinctively wanting to offer comfort, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she saw Sheng Zhen lie down on the bed, turning her back to her in a sulking, unresponsive manner.

The room’s light remained on, casting an awkward glow over them.

Their current state resembled that of a quarreling couple. Si Wan stared at Sheng Zhen’s back for a long while before speaking softly, “You can’t stay by my side forever.”

Listening to Si Wan’s words of dismissal, Sheng Zhen, with her back still turned, remained silent for a long time before replying, each word dripping with displeasure and gritted teeth. “Understood.”

An eerie stillness hung between them. Though Si Wan was beginning to feel a hint of softness, as soon as she recalled the reason she had deduced for the ghost’s attachment to her, she quickly steeled her resolve.

Human and ghost lay back-to-back, the silence between them thick and heavy.

Outside the window, the distant mountains were already tinged with a warm, golden glow, yet Si Wan remained awake. It wasn’t just the ghost’s chilling presence beside her, it was her own restless thoughts that kept her from sleep.

After a long deliberation, Si Wan finally spoke. “It seems I never asked for your name.”

Earlier, Si Wan had been too afraid to pretend she hadn’t seen anything. Work had also kept her busy, which made her forget to ask the other person about it.

Sheng Zhen, with her back turned, acted as if she hadn’t heard and didn’t respond to Si Wan’s words.

Si Wan knew Sheng Zhen had heard her but simply didn’t want to speak to her yet.

“You knew,” Sheng Zhen said slowly after an unknown length of time. “That day, the name you wrote on the paper with your own hand was mine.”

At these words, Si Wan’s thoughts seemed to drift back to the moment she saw the broken tombstone, when that name had flashed through her mind. Then, she heard the other person speak, uttering the name aloud.

“Sheng Zhen, styled Nan’an, the most revered eldest princess of the Sheng Kingdom.”

As she finished speaking, a faint, mocking smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Without her personally revealing it, no one would ever know the full story behind the tombstone’s inscription, let alone her true identity.

The tombstone bore only her name. When she carved it in preparation for death, she no longer acknowledged her former status.

Si Wan didn’t hear Sheng Zhen’s soft laugh, but at the moment the other spoke her name, her expression froze.

She should have realized it earlier, the twin tombstones meant the other had someone she loved in her heart.

At this thought, an undeniable discomfort surged within Si Wan, spreading through her entire body. Yet, as if still seeking confirmation, she restrained herself and asked in a calm tone, “Why so many weapons?”

“Someone else’s.” Sheng Zhen replied swiftly and bluntly.

That “someone else” made Si Wan’s heart ache dully. She fell silent and changed the subject. “The blood on your clothes…”

She wanted to know why Sheng Zhen’s clothes were stained with blood, even though she knew she shouldn’t ask, she couldn’t help herself.

Sheng Zhen didn’t answer. Instead, upon hearing the question, her body stiffened slightly. She unconsciously touched her neck, then let out a muffled laugh, speaking with sarcasm. “Aren’t you afraid of ghosts anymore?”

Not receiving a direct answer, Si Wan had no way to force one out of her.

“I am.” Si Wan said.

But it seemed she wasn’t afraid of her.

Sheng Zhen snorted coldly, and then they fell into silence once more.

By morning, sunlight streamed through the glass, spilling over Si Wan. Beside her, the ghost had vanished without a trace.

The room held only one person now, with no evidence to prove the other’s presence, as if it had all been nothing but an illusion.

Sitting on the bed, Si Wan could still hear Sheng Zhen’s gritted words echoing in her ears.

She wanted to explain that she hadn’t found her annoying, she only wanted her to leave.

But now that she was truly gone, Si Wan longed for some trace to prove she had been real.

As she got out of bed, her fingertips brushed against something familiar and smooth.

The hairpin that had once been fastened in Sheng Zhen’s hair had returned to Si Wan’s hand, whether accidentally left behind or deliberately discarded, she couldn’t tell.

Holding the hairpin, Si Wan stared at it for a long while, as if deciphering the unspoken message behind the other’s departure.

She doesn’t want it anymore…

When a gifted item is returned, it can only mean one thing: she no longer wants it.

Sheng Zhen’s figure flashed through Si Wan’s mind.

The object in her hand suddenly felt scorching. Clutching it, that strange, indescribable feeling welled up inside her once more.

When Si Wan arrived at the cornfield, Guan Yue had already led a team to survey the scene. Everything was just as Si Wan had anticipated, the true entrance to the tomb was here.

The objects buried beneath the two tombstones were not merely a diversion. Instead, those underground had never intended to bring those items into the tomb. Instead, they used the belongings of the deceased to erect a separate cenotaph.

…