Time passed quietly amidst the rhythm of daily training.
In the blink of an eye, a full month had gone by.
Yunchuan had finally adapted to his daily routine of running a full lap around the dirt avenue in a vest that weighed several hundred jin. What had once left him collapsed in exhaustion now felt almost effortless. His progress was astonishing.
Scaling up from here would simply mean increasing the number of laps—two, then three, and so on—until eventually, the weight vest would be upgraded.
But today was an exception. Yunchuan was granted a day off.
Bibi Dong believed that training needed balance. Constant exertion, even if physically bearable, would wear at the mind. So she allowed occasional breaks—important to loosen the taut string, and refresh the spirit.
Early that morning, freshly washed and dressed, Yunchuan opened his door with a plan to wander the city and enjoy his free day.
But before he could take a step, he was met by a palace attendant, who stood silently at his door with something in hand.
A letter.
On the envelope: four simple characters—
"小川亲启"
("For Xiao Chuan's Eyes Only")
Yunchuan blinked in surprise before spotting the sender.
It was from Qian Renxue.
His face lit with a rare smile. "Another letter from Xue-jie," he murmured, carefully taking it before closing the door behind him.
Inside, Yunchuan walked over to his desk by the window and sat down. With practiced ease, he opened the envelope and unfolded the neat letter within—each line written in elegant handwriting that carried both care and familiarity.
Most of the contents were playful grumbling.
Qian Renxue had been living under deep cover in the Heaven Dou Empire for years—currently impersonating the late Crown Prince Xue Qinghe. Her days were tedious, filled with politics and social obligations. The letter spoke of those routines, her boredom, small anecdotes… and often, humorous questions about whether he missed her.
Yunchuan read every word slowly, drinking in her tone. A gentle warmth spread across his face beneath the morning sun, blurring the sharp features of a boy far too young to look wistful—making him seem almost untouchable.
Qian Renxue was about ten years older than him.
Back when he was still a baby, she would visit often—carrying him, playing with him. Had things gone a different way, they might've grown up together, like a pair of childhood companions.
But fate had drawn them apart.
At age two, Yunchuan watched her leave.
In pursuit of her mother's approval, Qian Renxue had volunteered to infiltrate the Heaven Dou royal family. She orchestrated the replacement of the actual Crown Prince, using soul bone abilities to assume his identity.
That was four years ago.
Since then, she'd only been able to return to Spirit Hall every few months—each stay brief, usually just two or three days. Her cover identity couldn't vanish for long.
But letters? Letters were different.
Sometimes she'd write twenty in a single month. Sometimes only one, depending on time and circumstance. In those pages, they shared updates, frustrations, and pieces of their lives. Yunchuan replied to nearly every one.
Remarkably, despite the distance, the bond between them never weakened.
If anything, it grew deeper.
For Qian Renxue, the act of writing became emotional release. In written words, the things she couldn't say aloud flowed freely. And without realizing it, she'd begun to rely on him—confiding in him, thinking of him, caring more than she might even admit.
After finishing the letter, Yunchuan carefully folded it up and returned it to its envelope.
From his storage soul tool, he drew out an ornate brocade box and opened it.
Inside—dozens of envelopes, neatly organized.
Every letter Qian Renxue had ever sent him was tucked in there.
He added the new one, closed the box with care, and returned it to storage.
Then, brushing his sleeves, he pulled out fresh writing paper and a long, delicate brush. His hands were small, so choosing a thinner brush was necessary—otherwise, the writing would come out clumsy.
Dipping the tip in ink, he hesitated a moment—gathering his thoughts.
Then he began to write:
To the most beautiful, most radiant, most gentle, and most kind Xue-jie in the world—
Flowers may blossom with dazzling beauty, but none compare to your smile.
The warmth of summer sun cannot match your presence.
And no gentle rain could ever soothe me as your words do.
Even the finest artist can't capture your soul,
Even the finest poet can't express how much I hold you in my heart.
My dearest sister, I would become a guardian angel, just to keep you safe throughout eternity...
It's been two months since you last came home.
To me, these sixty days have felt like sixty years.
Now I finally understand what "one day apart feels like three autumns" really means.
I think of you under the stars.
I hear your voice in the wind.
Just knowing you exist in this world is enough to make every hardship feel lighter.
Wherever you are—by my side, or far beyond the horizon—my heart always follows.
An hour later, Yunchuan finally set the brush down.
He read back through the letter once, recoiled, and groaned aloud.
"Ugh. That was so corny…"
He rubbed the goosebumps rising on his arm. Even though he wrote it, the romantic syrup made his hair stand on end.
Still—
That was exactly what she liked.
Girls loved pretty words. Even if he thought it cringe, Qian Renxue might feel warm inside when she read it.
So he folded the letter carefully, slipped it into a clean envelope, and wrote in elegant script on the front:
"雪姐亲启" — "For Xue-jie Only."
It was done.
He walked over to the door and opened it.
Right outside, the same attendant from earlier stood waiting without a word. It wasn't his first time delivering for them. Over the years, he'd learned that Yunchuan's replies usually came soon after the letters themselves.
Yunchuan handed the sealed letter over. "Make sure she gets this."
The man bowed respectfully. "As you wish."
Four soul rings rose around him—a blend of yellow, purple, and black. Three of them lit up, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished like a breeze.
It wasn't teleportation. Just speed.
Yunchuan remembered: this envoy belonged to the Agility Clan but had been cast out due to a martial soul mutation. Spirit Hall had taken him in and found the perfect place for his particular skills—message delivery.
(End of Chapter)