My Partner Always Wants to Dig My Grave - Chapter 36

Upon hearing Sheng Zhen’s response, Si Wan unconsciously curved her lips, her eyes softening in a way she hadn’t yet noticed.

The door before her, illuminated by the gauze lantern, caught Si Wan’s gaze. It felt strangely familiar.

Si Wan placed her hand on the door. The aged wooden door showed no signs of decay, a marvel that made her examine it more closely.

Yet it was this closer look that reminded Si Wan where she had seen this style of door before.

In that nameless dream, she had followed the general into his residence. The door to his study was exactly like this one.

At this thought, Si Wan’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion.

She turned her head to look at Sheng Zhen, her throat unusually dry as she hesitated to ask, “May… may I enter?”

After all, this was Sheng Zhen’s space. The recreated flower banquet had already made it clear how deeply Sheng Zhen cherished her memories, and this replicated study must also be a testament to her longing for that person.

Hearing Si Wan’s question, Sheng Zhen tilted her head slightly, a faint smile gracing her lips that made her as radiant as a young girl. “Of course, Si Wan may enter.” she said.

She deliberately emphasized the name “Si Wan”, sending a chill through Si Wan’s heart, as if she had been plunged into an icy lake, the cold seeping deep into her bones.

Si Wan, the other tomb occupant who shared her name.

Sheng Zhen, who knew Si Wan all too well, immediately noticed her discomfort. A flicker of confusion passed through her eyes as she asked, “Si Wan, what’s wrong?”

Hearing her name spoken again by Sheng Zhen, even if tenderly, Si Wan couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t meant for her.

With no one else around, Si Wan tightened her hand slightly, as if steeling her resolve. Meeting Sheng Zhen’s gaze, she spoke as politely as she could, “I have another question, but it might offend you, Your Highness.”

Hearing the distant form of address, Sheng Zhen froze for a moment, forgetting to correct her. “Mm.”

After a few seconds of deliberation, Si Wan averted her gaze, staring into the distant darkness as if searching for something. “Why hasn’t the other tomb occupant appeared?”

It seemed that since Si Wan’s arrival, Sheng Zhen was the only ghost from the tomb who had shown herself. Apart from her, only fragments of information about the other occupant could be gleaned from Sheng Zhen’s occasional remarks.

Sheng Zhen’s grip on the lantern tightened, the smile fading from her lips. She stared at Si Wan’s face for a long moment, as if trying to see through her to something beyond.

Si Wan knew her question was too intrusive. Seeing that Sheng Zhen remained silent, she was about to apologize when she heard Sheng Zhen let out a soft sigh, laden with emotions unknown to others. “Her…”

Sheng Zhen’s words broke off abruptly. She bit her lower lip, struggling to hold back something. Si Wan’s gaze shifted to her, and upon noticing the slight tremble in Sheng Zhen’s body, her heart jolted in alarm. Instinctively, she reached out and grasped Sheng Zhen’s cold hand.

Feeling the slight tremble in her palm, Si Wan unconsciously tightened her grip.

She hadn’t expected Sheng Zhen to react so strongly to the topic. Guilt flooded her heart, and she spoke to Sheng Zhen with sincere apology in her voice.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ve made you uncomfortable…”

Before Si Wan could finish her sentence, Sheng Zhen’s hand suddenly grasped hers in return, holding it tightly as if only this could bring her a sliver of solace, a clear confirmation that Si Wan was still by her side.

Sheng Zhen spoke, her voice hoarse from the dryness in her throat.

“As for her… she’s long been reduced to dust and bones…”

Hearing this, Si Wan’s body stiffened abruptly. The other’s grip was so forceful it nearly crushed her hand, yet she endured the pain, allowing Sheng Zhen to hold on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

Sheng Zhen’s eyes fixed on Si Wan as she shook her head with a bitter smile, her sorrowful tone deeply moving.

“Si Wan, you know it’s no use apologizing to me. I want you to come home, whole and complete, to see me.”

Her voice grew increasingly strained toward the end, as if she had exhausted all her strength, and even the grip on Si Wan’s hand loosened.

Just as Sheng Zhen’s hand was about to slip away, Si Wan caught it. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind, but none could overpower her desire to pull the other into an embrace and offer comfort.

Ghosts shed no tears. What welled in the corners of Sheng Zhen’s eyes was the boundless sorrow accumulated over centuries of lonely waiting. Crimson tears traced down her pallid face, a terrifying sight that concealed a fragility few could perceive.

“From the frontier to the capital, even with urgent dispatch, news of a general’s death would take at least ten days to reach the palace.”

Her tone grew calm, but it was this very calmness that felt most dreadful.

Ten days, in a war-torn border region, a body would long have vanished without a trace.

Si Wan regretted having broached the subject. She wanted to stop Sheng Zhen from delving further into the memories, but before she could speak, Sheng Zhen interrupted her again.

“I sent people to search for months, but all they found was a broken halberd. The craftsmen tried their best to restore it, yet they could only bring it back to about eighty or ninety percent of what it once was…”

That spear and halberd, it turned out, had been Sheng Zhen’s object of longing for the deceased over all these years.

Thinking of this, Si Wan suddenly realized how merciful Sheng Zhen had been, she hadn’t been angered enough to kill her when she had picked up that halberd.

As Sheng Zhen’s emotions gradually settled, Si Wan also calmed down.

From Sheng Zhen’s words just now, it was clear that this tomb held only one occupant. Everything built here was an expression of Sheng Zhen’s longing for that person.

Orphaned from a young age, Si Wan had once struggled to understand the saying that death is cruelest to the living.

But now, she seemed to have touched upon that sentiment, not merely sympathy for the person before her, but an overwhelming sense of debt, as if she were the least qualified to urge the other to let go.

She didn’t understand why, after glimpsing fragments of memories that weren’t her own, she felt such uncontrollable emotions in Sheng Zhen’s presence.

Decades of textbooks offered no answers, and no one could resolve her confusion.

Helpless, Si Wan could only set aside her doubts for now and speak up to divert Sheng Zhen’s attention.

“What’s inside?”

Sheng Zhen had earlier mentioned that someone could enter, but Si Wan didn’t think it referred to herself. Yet Sheng Zhen didn’t seem intent on stopping her, rather, it felt like she was deliberately guiding her toward certain places.

“Letters.”

Sheng Zhen spoke, her feathery lashes lowering slightly, her gaze resting on Si Wan’s hand as it pushed the door open.

“Letters for Si Wan.”

Her voice carried a hint of laughter, tucking away all remembrance. The tenderness on her pale face was profoundly moving.

Upon hearing this, Si Wan paused her movements, her peripheral gaze drifting to the silk lantern beside her, visible only to them. Its light fell upon the mural, yet only her own elongated shadow stretched across it, as if merging into the bamboo grove and resembling a certain figure.

The letter addressed to “Si Wan” was not meant for her.

Si Wan closed her eyes for a moment, silently admonishing herself in her heart.

Yet she couldn’t suppress the desolation within. Pressing her lips slightly, she pushed open the door before her.

With a creak, the silent tomb chamber grew eerie and sinister.

But even before Si Wan fully lifted her gaze, she sensed the long-lost flickering flame. Only then did she raise her eyes, and as the scene before her came into focus, her breath caught sharply, followed by a drum-like heartbeat pounding in her chest.

Si Wan had not been mistaken, this was a study meticulously replicated under Sheng Zhen’s orders.

Every furnishing in the study was arranged meticulously: scrolls of books neatly lined the shelves, a lone candle flickered dimly on the desk, and an inkstone, brushes, and a letter spread across the desk appeared as though someone had just finished writing it, not yet sent out.

This study was identical to the one Si Wan had seen in her dreams, the study of General Si, except for the additional letter on the desk.

As Si Wan took in the scene, she instinctively wondered whether the books here were complete. In the next moment, an unfamiliar memory flashed through her mind.

Her leg, poised to step forward, suddenly felt as heavy as if weighed down by a thousand pounds. A cold breeze brushed past her, and a crimson figure swept by, striding directly into the study that belonged to no one she knew.

Sheng Zhen placed the silk lantern she carried onto the desk, where its light mingled with the flickering candle. The soft glow cast an elegant and dignified shadow on the wall, one that seemed slightly different from the present Sheng Zhen.

After a long moment, Si Wan realized that the shadow on the wall was not cast by Sheng Zhen at all.

A small clay statue on the desk, illuminated by the candlelight, projected the shadow onto the wall.

It took an unknown length of time before Si Wan finally stepped into the study. Before she could reach the desk, Sheng Zhen approached and blocked her path.

Sheng Zhen tilted her head slightly, her expression unable to conceal her arrogance. Her stunningly beautiful eyes glanced at the letter on the desk.

Si Wan felt that Sheng Zhen had long memorized the words on that letter. What memories that glance evoked, no one could tell.

Beneath her pale yet enchanting countenance, her expression shifted subtly. Her red lips parted, and a voice that seemed to pierce through millennia of solitude echoed through the study.

“General Si, tomorrow is the Lantern Festival. My father has ordered you to guard my side. However, since we made our positions clear that day, neither of us harboring any interest in the other, I grant you a day of rest. You must not cross paths with me during the festival.”

This was a letter of warning, cautioning the general who was at odds with the eldest princess at the time.

The princess of the imperial family, like a golden canary trapped in an exquisite cage, found it nearly impossible to leave the palace. Having once glimpsed the warmth and vibrancy of the outside world, the eldest princess hoped that the rare opportunity she obtained through deception would allow her a day of freedom.

Yet, imperial decrees were not to be defied. If the general failed to appear, it would likely be a crime punishable by death.

Si Wan had no way of knowing what choice the general ultimately made. She could only ask the sole witness from that time.

“Did she go?”

Sheng Zhen slightly shifted aside to make way for Si Wan, a faint smile in her eyes concealing an inscrutable emotion as she spoke.

“Didn’t go, but also went.”

Seeing that Si Wan remained unmoved, likely guessing at the deeply ingrained politeness and reservations within her, Sheng Zhen lowered her head and muttered “stubborn” before addressing Si Wan again.

“Everything here, including my letters, you can have someone come in and take away next time.”

The written words in these books were extremely precious to the archaeological community. Hearing Sheng Zhen’s words, Si Wan felt a flicker of surprise, but as she thought it through, everything began to make sense.

From that rainy night when Sheng Zhen in the tomb deliberately let the driver hear the sound of the zither, to the tomb she herself had described as full of traps yet repeatedly made exceptions for them after their arrival.

“Thank you.” Si Wan said.

After observing the study for a moment, Si Wan estimated that she had been inside long enough. Worried that Guan Yue and the others waiting outside might be concerned, she ultimately only took the letter from the desk before leaving.

However, Si Wan failed to notice that behind her, Sheng Zhen’s hand brushed over the desk, opening a hidden compartment from which she retrieved something.

…