Chapter 167: Writing a Letter

On the other side, the carriage traveled along the official road, with only the sounds of soldiers and horses treading on the ground audible around them. Inside the carriage, however, it was warm and cozy, with not a hint of the cold wind from outside.

Lan Wu sat by the soft couch, holding the cloak Chu Mingheng had given her in her arms, feeling somewhat sad and silent.

After a while, Mujin entered. Seeing her like this, she stepped forward to replace the cooled tea in her cup, saying softly, “Your Highness, have some hot tea.”

Lan Wu raised her face, reaching out to hold the teacup but not drinking from it. Instead, she asked, “How far have we traveled?”

“Your Highness, we haven’t left the imperial city yet.”

From the start of the journey until now, it had been less than half an hour, so naturally, they hadn’t left the imperial city.

“Why is it so slow…” Lan Wu murmured softly, glancing at the still-empty carriage with no one else inside, and suddenly sighed.

“Your Highness, don’t worry. The imperial city is at most ten days away from Changyong Mountain, so it’s not too far,” Mujin comforted her.

Lan Wu seemed somewhat reassured and hummed in acknowledgment, lowering her head to look at the cloak Chu Mingheng had given her.

Master Huifan had said that as long as they were separated for three months and she stayed at Changyong Mountain for three months, Chu Mingheng would regain clarity from his current confused state. Today was the first day, and she wondered if Chu Mingheng missed her in the palace.

By noon, the carriage came to a brief stop, and everyone began having lunch.

Lan Wu had little appetite and only took a few bites before having the food cleared away.

In the afternoon, they continued their journey.

However, in the afternoon, Princess Yizhen came to her carriage to keep her company. At the time, Lan Wu was reading a storybook, and Yizhen noticed it as soon as she entered.

“You read these storybooks too?” Yizhen found it rather surprising. She also noticed the pile of books on the small bookshelf and couldn’t help but ask, “There are so many. Can I take a look?”

Lan Wu gave an awkward laugh, feeling a bit embarrassed, and nodded. “You can look, Princess. Just help yourself.”

Yizhen didn’t stand on ceremony. Hearing this, she casually picked up a book while enthusiastically chatting with Lan Wu. “I love reading storybooks too. Since I’m not in the palace, I have more freedom than you. It must be hard for you to bring these storybooks into the palace, right?”

But looking at this stack, so many of them, it must have taken considerable effort to collect them all.

Lan Wu shook her head gently and honestly replied, “It wasn’t too hard. His Majesty had someone find these for me.”

Huh?

Yizhen flipped through a couple of pages of the book, not quite registering her words at first. When it sank in, she stared directly at Lan Wu. “My… my brother found these for you to read?”

“He specifically had someone look for them?”

Lan Wu hummed in agreement, nodding, and touched her ear with a slight, embarrassed smile. “When the palace attendants brought them to me, I found it strange too. But since they were already delivered, he said it would be troublesome for me to send someone to look for them, so… Besides these, I have more in my trunk. If you like them, Princess, I can have some sent over.”

Yizhen declined. “I have some too, though not as many as you. If I want to read, I’ll just come over and ask you for them.”

“You don’t have to call me Princess; it sounds too formal. Just call me Yizhen.”

After all, the two of them had spoken several times before. As Chu Mingheng had said, Yizhen’s lively personality made her a good companion, and with her around, the journey was indeed less boring.

Fortunately, it hadn’t snowed these past few days, and the carriage journey toward Changyong Mountain proceeded without delay.

Five days passed in this manner, and Lan Wu received the first letter from Chu Mingheng.

To be precise, there were three letters.

Each Chu Mingheng had written her one, and the third was the one she had specifically asked Luo Yun to write.

Lan Wu opened the first letter, and within just a few lines, her nose began to sting with emotion.

Since departing from the imperial city, she hadn’t shed a single tear, but now, reading this letter, she found herself missing Chu Mingheng again.

Even in person, she could distinguish which Chu Mingheng belonged to this lifetime and which to the previous one, so naturally, she could tell from their letters as well.

Chu Mingheng’s letters were filled with matters concerning her—asking whether she felt cold on the road, whether the carriage ride was tiring, and whether she missed him along the way.

He also wrote about his own affairs.

Which of her paintings he had looked at that day, the conversations they had shared when she was around, the food they had eaten together, and even the playful moments they had enjoyed in the bathing pool.

Lan Wu’s cheeks flushed slightly as she read, and she couldn’t help muttering that Chu Mingheng was a lecher for writing such things.

But both of Chu Mingheng’s letters ended with a request for her reply.

Lan Wu gently folded the letters and carefully placed them in the wooden box beside her pillow. Only then did she open the third letter—the one written by Luo Yun.

As expected, the letter recorded the details of Chu Mingheng’s daily meals, though it was almost excessively meticulous, even noting the days when he had consumed one less bowl of soup.

Apart from these details, the letter made no mention of any health issues Chu Mingheng might have, not even occasional headaches.

Lan Wu found this strange.

When she was still in the palace, she had been practically inseparable from Chu Mingheng. No matter how well he pretended, she could always tell that he suffered from headaches upon waking and occasional dizziness.

During such times, she would pretend not to notice, silently lowering her head without a word. For if she showed even the slightest sign of awareness, Chu Mingheng would become even more cautious in his pretense, attempting to conceal any trace of his discomfort from her.

Now that she had left the palace, logically, Chu Mingheng would no longer need to pretend he was fine. So why had Luo Yun not noticed anything at all?

Could it truly be as Master Huifan had said—that Chu Mingheng began to improve as soon as she left him?

Lan Wu silently stared at the paper in her hand, tilting her head in confusion.

Soon, she called for someone to grind ink for her, as she intended to write back to Chu Mingheng.

To be precise, she would write two letters back.

She couldn’t show favoritism—both Chu Minghengs had to receive a reply, so as to appear fair.

Moreover, the contents of the two letters couldn’t be entirely the same.

Lan Wu sat by the soft couch, writing diligently all afternoon. She carefully weighed her words, comparing each sentence with the content of the other letter, proceeding with caution until both letters were finally completed and handed over, with instructions to deliver them to the palace for Your Majesty.

She roughly calculated that by the time she received the next letter, she would have just arrived at Changyong Mountain.

Unable to see Chu Mingheng, she could only guess his condition through his letters, uncertain of how he was truly faring alone in the palace.

If only these three months could pass more quickly.