“Yes, my lord.”
The candlelight inside the room stretched the shadow of someone outside the door very long, but as soon as the voice fell, the figure vanished instantly.
The young man in brocade sitting before the desk lowered his eyes once again to the letter spread out on it.
After a moment, he extended his well-defined right hand, picked up the letter, and held it above the flickering candlelight.
The flame reflected in his eyes like a beam of light without any warmth, his pale face remaining impassive.
However, when the edge of the letter touched the candle flame, it suddenly shattered into a faint golden halo of light, scattering in specks and disappearing in an instant, as if it had never existed.
Yet, watching this mysterious scene, he showed no sign of astonishment, remaining entirely calm.
As the faint golden light faded, his gaze once again settled on the seemingly ordinary copper pendant on the desk.
This object was found in the study of Shao Anhe.
At that time, besides him, there were five or six guards in the study.
But none of them truly saw the mysterious light curtain that appeared above the wooden rack holding the copper pendant.
It was a mirage-like spectacle he had grown accustomed to seeing from childhood, appearing suddenly and having no connection with the world he lived in.
Often, he would see scenes quite unlike this world.
Like illusory spectacles, he could not touch or feel them even if he reached out.
But this time, it seemed different.
Because he clearly saw that only the wooden box holding the copper pendant, or at least half of it, was submerged in that light curtain.
It seemed that this object could be touched, even passed through that light curtain.
When he took down the wooden box, the light curtain had not yet dissipated.
But when he just opened the box and took out the copper pendant, at that moment, the relief of the phoenix tail on the edge of the pendant suddenly broke off.
The moment the fragments flew into the light curtain, he seemed to see the vague figure of a girl.
But it was just for a moment; then the light curtain turned into a whirlpool, swallowing all the images before disappearing without a trace.
The young lord closed his eyes, seemingly contemplating something.
A fragrance burned in the incense burner at the edge of the desk, light and faint. Suddenly, a gust of night wind blew in, pushing open the window that was left ajar for an instant.
The somewhat brisk wind brushed against his face. When the young lord opened his eyes, he saw a faint golden halo condensing on the copper pendant on the desk.
Amid the barely audible sound of bells, he saw with his own eyes the faint golden light from the pendant flying out, condensing into a letter in front of his desk.
The envelope bore just four words: Wei Yun’s Personal Letter.
The handwriting was rigid and lifeless, not resembling that which a person could write.
After an unknown amount of time, Wei Yun finally reached out to open the envelope.
Inside was only a thin piece of golden-sprinkled letter paper, with just one line of ink:
“Sorry, sent to the wrong person.”
The handwriting, just like on the envelope, was rigid and devoid of spirit. It wasn’t written vertically but horizontally, to be read from left to right for it to make sense.
But what does such a vague and abrupt statement mean?
Wei Yun’s eyes slightly cooled, and with a little force in his knuckles, he crumpled the letter in his hand into a ball.
At this moment, Xie Tao had hesitated for a long time before sending such a message via WeChat. Seeing no response from the other party, she didn’t think much of it and scrolled through her previous chat history with Zhou Xinyue, sending another message to Zhou Xinyue.
While Xie Tao was waiting for her reply, holding her phone, she fell asleep without even realizing it.
She had a dream.
She dreamed of Zhou Xinyue.
In the dream, she saw Zhou Xinyue standing on a windowsill. No matter how much Xie Tao called out to her, Zhou Xinyue remained silent, only looking at Xie Tao and crying continuously.
The snow-white curtains fluttered loudly in the wind, and the azure sky gradually turned into a vast black hole. A dark shadow pressed down, like a monster about to devour everything.
Zhou Xinyue moved her dry lips, as if she wanted to say something to her.
But Xie Tao, from beginning to end, never heard it clearly.
When Xie Tao woke up, Fu Hua was still asleep. Yawning, she quietly got out of bed.
After quickly washing up, Xie Tao came out from the back yard and saw Fu Miaolan sitting on a high stool in front of the counter, flipping through a notebook with a pen in hand.
“Tao Tao is up?” Hearing footsteps, Fu Miaolan turned to see Xie Tao and smiled at her, “Go have cold noodles at the breakfast shop near the bridge. They’re best when just steamed.”
The cold noodles Fu Miaolan mentioned involved laying a cloth in a steamer basket greased with rapeseed oil, spreading the ground rice milk evenly over the cloth, steaming for a few minutes, then cutting it into wide noodles. After adding soy sauce, vinegar, garlic water, chili, and other seasonings, you get Qizhen’s favorite breakfast.
Qizhen, part of Linzhou, is located in the Sichuan-Chongqing region, where the locals particularly enjoy spicy food, including for breakfast.
Despite the word “cold” in cold noodles, according to Xie Tao’s many experiences, they are best eaten hot.
Especially the noodles just out of the steamer, which are soft, sticky, and chewy.
Perhaps it’s because of the special water quality of Linzhou’s moat that makes these cold noodles unmatched elsewhere.
“Okay, I’ll go,” Xie Tao responded.
Fu Miaolan, an early riser, usually went out to have breakfast alone. Later, when her daughter Fu Hua woke up, she would then go to the breakfast shop near the bridge again to pack a breakfast for Fu Hua.
Leaving the cake shop, Xie Tao walked towards the bridge.
Upon reaching the breakfast shop at the other end of the bridge, she ordered a bowl of porridge and a small serving of cold noodles, then sat at the table to wait.
Remembering the WeChat message she sent to Zhou Xinyue last night, she took out her phone.
But when she checked WeChat, she saw that Zhou Xinyue had still not replied.
Xie Tao felt uneasy, and the dream from last night made her even more worried about Zhou Xinyue.
Could something have happened?
Thinking this, Xie Tao exited the chat with Zhou Xinyue, but in the next moment, her gaze lingered on an unfamiliar WeChat ID.
Before going to sleep last night, she thought it over and still sent a message.
But now, scratching the back of her head, Xie Tao felt that her message from last night might have been unnecessary.
After all… it’s just a stranger.
Xie Tao clicked on the option to delete a friend and pressed confirm.
However, at that moment, her phone suddenly froze, stuck on the delete friend page, unresponsive to any of her taps on the screen.
At this time, the owner of the breakfast shop came over with a bowl of cold noodles and porridge, placing them on her table.
Xie Tao thanked her and then continued to fiddle with her phone.
After a while, her phone seemed to finally respond, suddenly exiting that page and returning to normal.
Xie Tao breathed a sigh of relief.
She couldn’t afford to buy a new phone right now.
But when she looked at the WeChat interface, she found that the friend she had tried to delete was still in her WeChat friends list.
“…”
Never mind.
Xie Tao put down her phone, took out the chopsticks from the bamboo tube, wiped them with a napkin, stirred the chili oil evenly into the cold noodles, and started eating them along with a bowl of vegetable porridge.
Life in Qizhen is inseparable from the taste of chili from morning till night.
Xie Tao liked it here.
After breakfast, Xie Tao returned to the Fu family cake shop to start making today’s crispy heart candy.
Perhaps because she was still preoccupied with Zhou Xinyue’s matter, after making the first batch of peanut crispy heart candies last night, Xie Tao took off her gloves, picked up her phone, and began to look through her chat history with Zhou Xinyue for something.
Xie Tao remembered that Zhou Xinyue had once given her her family’s phone number.
Throughout the morning, Xie Tao called that number several times but no one answered.
This made Xie Tao increasingly anxious.
In the afternoon, when Fu Miaolan returned, she saw Xie Tao sitting behind the counter, lost in thought and seemingly troubled.
“Tao Tao, what are you thinking about?” Fu Miaolan handed her a bottle of fresh milk she had bought outside.
Xie Tao came back to her senses and hurriedly reached out to take it, “Thank you, Aunt Fu.”
But holding the milk bottle, Xie Tao bit her lip and hesitated for a while before looking up at Fu Miaolan again, “Aunt Fu…”
“What’s the matter, child? Why are you hesitating?”
Fu Miaolan is an impatient person. Seeing her like this, she poked Xie Tao’s forehead with her finger, then continued to fiddle with her bag.
Xie Tao touched her forehead and finally spoke, “Aunt Fu, I… want to go to Nan City for a few days.”
Upon hearing this, Fu Miaolan found it odd, “Didn’t you just say last night that you wouldn’t go back?”
“Or have you changed your mind? If you’ve changed your mind, why only go back for a few days?” Fu Miaolan laughed and patted her shoulder, “Tao Tao, that’s right, you should go home and study properly!”
Xie Tao shook her head, “No, Aunt Fu.”
“Do you remember? I mentioned to you before, I have a friend named Zhou Xinyue.”
“I want to go see her.”
Fu Miaolan seemed to remember her mentioning this, but looking at Xie Tao’s frail and thin appearance, she was somewhat worried, “Do you want Aunt Fu to accompany you?”
“No need, Aunt Fu. If you come with me, what about Fu Hua? Don’t worry, I can manage on my own,” Xie Tao said.
After speaking with Fu Miaolan, Xie Tao went to the Qizhen train station early the next day.
She took a bus to Linzhou City, and then Xie Tao took a high-speed train. In two to three hours, she arrived in Nan City.
It had been just over a year since she last visited, and it seemed as though nothing had changed here.
Xie Tao had visited Zhou Xinyue’s home before, and during her time in Qizhen, she had even sent her butter candies a few times, so she knew the exact location of Zhou Xinyue’s house.
When she arrived, just as she took the elevator up to the eighth floor, she ran into a middle-aged woman hurriedly carrying a thermos container.
“Aunt Yan?”
Xie Tao recognized her; that was Zhou Xinyue’s mother.
“You are…”
Yan Xiping sized up the suddenly appeared girl for a while before remembering, “You are Xie Tao?”
“Yes, Aunt Yan.” Xie Tao nodded.
“I haven’t seen you for a long time, but you haven’t changed much,” Yan Qiuping smiled.
Xie Tao smiled shyly but quickly asked about Zhou Xinyue, “Aunt Yan, is Yue Yue here?”
Yan Xiping’s face, which had been smiling, turned solemn at the mention of Zhou Xinyue. The smile vanished, and she seemed much heavier.
Only then did Xie Tao notice the tired blue shadows under her eyes and the red veins in them.
She suddenly had a bad premonition.
“Xinyue… is in the hospital.”
When Yan Xiping said this, her eyes reddened uncontrollably.
