"A letter… from Lianyu? Are you lying—"
"Why would I lie?!" Renshu snapped, clearly annoyed. "Apparently it was addressed to you under the name of a maid of Lanxuan Pavilion. Fortunately for you, the Consort decided to hand it to Shuyin to discard. Shuyin gave it to me, and I'had to send it to you. I didn't open it, in case you were wondering."
A letter from Lianyu?
I barely heard the rest of his words. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned everything out. Half a year had passed since I'd left, how could a letter reach me now?
Renshu pushed the envelope into my hands. My fingers trembled as I struggled with the seal, hesitation gripping me. What if this was a joke? What if it wasn't really from her?
I didn't wait to find out. I ran toward my room, my breath unsteady, and with a flick of my wrist I finally broke the seal.
The paper inside was crisp, the handwriting unmistakably hers. My eyes locked on the signature at the bottom,
Lianyu.
The letter read:
---
Dear Meilina,
I know you might never read this, and even if you do, I will not receive a reply.
Still, I hope you are alive and well. Yichen asks about Yixuan often, and Ariya still prays for you.
I have not fully recovered from my sickness, but I am much better.
If you are reading this, please… send a letter back.
Lianyu
---
I reread the words again and again.
I will not receive a reply?
What did she mean by that? This was the first letter she'd ever sent me… how would she know if I'd reply back or not?
Clutching the paper to my chest, I lay back on my bed, thoughts spinning. Tomorrow. I would reply tomorrow, no matter how long the message took to reach her.
My duties as the chief strategist were finished for the day, and I could visit Shuyin as well.
But first, a letter.
---
Morning
Sunlight spilled across my face, waking me. The letter still rested in my hand.
Oh. Right. Lianyu.
I sprang from the bed and sprinted to my desk. The faster I wrote, the sooner the words would find her.
---
Dear Lianyu,
I reached the palace months ago and worked as a maid for a while,
but my sword skills caught the eye of a general.
He offered me different work.
Now, I dress as a man and serve as an official.
I have also discovered Yixuan's whereabouts.
He still works as a carpenter here.
Meilina
---
The letter felt far too short, but speed mattered more than eloquence. I dressed quickly and stepped outside.
The servants hadn't arrived yet; breakfast waited untouched on the table. Renshu was nowhere in sight, probably busy with work.
No matter. I could eat later. The letter came first. But where was the post office?
I wandered through the palace grounds until I spotted a maid. "Hey! Where do you send letters?"
She smirked, her tone sickly sweet. "Well, Sir, the post office is reeeeally far. Perhaps you should give it to me and—"
I turned on my heel before she could finish. Clearly a liar.
Another servant passed by. "Where is the post office?" I asked.
Thankfully, he answered without games, pointing me toward the southeastern office, the closest one.
I hurried through the bustling streets until I reached a narrow building with faded signage. Inside, a clerk glanced up with barely concealed suspicion.
"I'd like to send a letter," I said.
"To… where?" His eyes narrowed.
I gave the address. He snatched the letter and waved me off with a grunt. Rude, but I was used to it. At least the letter was on its way.
With that done, my next plan was to write to Shuyin—but a thought nagged at me.
Yixuan.
When I'd been writing to Lianyu, his name surfaced again. Shuyin had told me to write letters to her anyways, and meeting Yixuan in person might be quite useful. And who knew when I'd have free time again?
I asked for directions to the eastern wing. The guards barely knew the way; even the palace itself seemed determined to keep secrets. My stomach growled from hunger, but I pressed on. Breakfast could wait.
Finally, after nearly an hour, I arrived at the carpentry station. The sharp scent of wood and smoke filled the air, mingling with the heat of open furnaces. The yard was barren, no grass, only packed earth and scattered scraps of lumber.
Inside, I approached a worker. "Where can I find a man named Yixuan?"
Without a word, he pointed toward a wooden door. No questions. No curiosity. Perhaps I was quite fortunate today, or perhaps they were simply too busy to care.
I stepped inside.
The room was large and cluttered, full of machinery I couldn't name. Three fireplaces roared along the walls, their glow half-hidden by piles of tools and timber.
"What do you want?"
The voice startled me. A man stood near a workbench, a carving knife in hand.
Not just any man.
Yixuan.
The resemblance to his brother, Yichen, was undeniable, the same round, youthful face, though his was roughened by years of labor. How old was he now?
"I… I bring a message from your brother, Yichen," I said carefully.
The knife slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. His eyes widened in shock.
"You—who are you?!" he shouted. "Leave! I won't hear such a cruel joke—"
"No! Yichen needs to know why you left him that night!" I shouted back, desperation sharpening my voice. I had come too far to let this chance slip away.
"Who are you to my brother?!"
"A… a friend."
He drew a shaky breath, then barked, "Tell Yichen that his brother has sent his 'friend' away!"
"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you abandoned him," I insisted.
"I—I'm not worthy of Yichen, all right?!" His voice cracked, raw and furious. "He's kind. Innocent. Gentle. How could I care for someone like him? He deserves someone better, someone like Lianyu! Not me. Now leave. You have your answer!"
I stared at him in disbelief. "You're not worthy of your own brother? Do you have any idea what your disappearance did to him? Do you even care about the pain you caused?"
"I told you!" His shout faltered into a hoarse whisper. "I am not worthy. I'm too rough, too stained. He… he deserves a life untouched by me."
The strength bled from his voice until it was barely more than a whimper. In the faint glow of the fireplace, I thought I saw tears glinting on his cheeks.
I couldn't speak. I turned and left, my chest tight with confusion.
Not worthy?
Too rough?
Yichen had never mentioned any of this. He spoke only of a loving brother, never of fear or pain.
Perhaps I would never understand.
But maybe Yichen would. And that, for now, would have to be enough.
With a heavy heart and an even heavier mind, I headed back toward the palace. Breakfast awaited, but answers did not.