The letter remained on Murong Qian's desk for nearly an hour before she finally reached for it.
She had been in the garden when it arrived. A young maid had delivered it quietly, handing it to a servant before leaving without lingering, as though she did not wish to attract attention. Murong Qian had taken the letter inside and placed it on her desk, yet she had not opened it immediately.
Instead, she sat by the window, watching the lotuses in the fading light. It was the third week of the month, the time her mother had once liked most, when the flowers were at their fullest. The room was quiet, and the letter remained where it was, untouched.
Who would send a letter without a name?
When she finally picked it up and broke the seal, she found only a single line inside.
You are not alone.
She read it once, then again, her expression unchanged, though her thoughts had already begun to move.
Who sent it, and for what purpose?
It did not take long for Murong Qian to narrow it down. The maid's uniform belonged to the Prime Minister's residence, and the letter had been delivered too carefully to be random. She had only met one person from that household recently, and given the nature of the message, there was no need to consider anyone else.
Only those four words.
She turned the letter slightly in her hand, her gaze lowering as she considered it more carefully. A message like this, sent without precaution, could not be taken at face value. The Prime Minister had always remained neutral in court, avoiding open alignment with any faction, which made this even more questionable. If this was deliberate, then it was either poorly planned or intentionally subtle, and neither possibility could be ignored.
In the end, she held the paper over the candle and watched as the flame slowly consumed it. The edges curled inward, the ink faded, and within moments, nothing remained but ash.
That was the correct decision.
And yet, after setting the remains aside, she found her gaze lingering on the empty space where the letter had been.
Chun Tao returned just before sunset.
Su Yuxiao had been waiting, and the moment the door opened, she stood up so abruptly that the stool beside her nearly tipped over.
"What happened?" she asked, unable to hide the tension in her voice.
"I delivered it, miss. A servant took it inside."
"And? What happened?"
"Nothing, miss. The servant just took it and closed the door."
Su Yuxiao slowly sat back down. "Nothing at all?"
"No, miss," Chun Tao said, hesitating slightly. "But the servant kept looking at me, like she was trying to figure out where I came from.
Su Yuxiao let out a quiet breath and leaned back against the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Four words. That was all she had sent, and now there was nothing in return.
For a moment, she regretted it.
"This was a bad idea," she muttered under her breath.
Chun Tao glanced at her. "Miss, you said you didn't care how she would react."
"I don't," Su Yuxiao replied, though the words lacked conviction.
"You're lying."
Su Yuxiao turned her head slightly, frowning. "I'm not lying. I just don't know what I was expecting."
Chun Tao studied her for a moment before speaking again. "You should rest. You've been restless all day."
"I'm not tired."
"Even so, it would be better than thinking about it endlessly."
Chun Tao stood up. "Then this servant will make tea."
"That's not going to help."
"Tea always helps." She walked to the door. "This servant will be right back.
Left alone, Su Yuxiao remained where she was, her thoughts refusing to settle.
Murong Qian had definitely read the letter. There was no doubt about that. But what had she done with it?
Ignored it?
Dismissed it?
Or burned it without a second thought?
The last possibility felt the most likely, and for some reason, that bothered her more than she expected.
"What was I even thinking" she murmured to herself.
Murong Qian did not sleep that night.
She sat by the open window, the cool air brushing against her skin as she looked out at the pond. The palace had grown quiet, but her thoughts continued to circle back to the same matter.
The Prime Minister had always remained neutral, careful not to involve himself in court conflicts. That alone made this even more suspicious.
So why now?
And why her?
Her gaze darkened slightly as she recalled the contents of the letter.
The Prime Minister's daughter had no reason to contact her directly, and even less reason to send such a message without explanation. If there was a purpose behind it, then it had yet to reveal itself.
And yet, despite all that, the words lingered.
No one had ever said something like that to her before.
Not her mother, who had passed too early. Not her father, who lacked the strength to stand beside her. Not the Emperor, who loved her but kept his distance and Not even the General.
There had been something, once, many years ago, but even that was not the same.
You fight alone. That must be tiring.
This was different.
Murong Qian stood and walked to her desk, her movements calm and measured. The paper, brush, and ink were already prepared, and for a brief moment, she considered writing a response, if only to test the other party's intentions.
But without understanding the purpose behind the message, any reply would be unnecessary and potentially dangerous.
After a short pause, she set the brush aside.
This was unnecessary and potentially dangerous.
She would not respond.
Murong Qian turned away from the desk.
But even as she did, one thought refused to leave her mind.
What exactly was the Prime Minister's daughter trying to do?
Morning arrived quietly.
Su Yuxiao woke to the soft light filtering into her room and remained still for a moment as the memory of the letter, the silence, and the lack of any reply slowly returned to her.
She had already expected this outcome, yet the certainty of it still left a faint sense of disappointment.
There was nothing more she could do.
Whether Murong Qian had kept the letter or destroyed it did not matter. The words had been delivered, and that alone was enough.
At least, that was what she told herself.
Chun Tao entered soon after, carrying water. "You're awake."
"I'm awake."
"The Prime Minister has already left for court. He said you should remain in your rooms today."
"Of course he did."
They spoke little after that. Once she was dressed, Su Yuxiao sat by the window, watching the quiet courtyard as clouds gathered overhead. The sky looked heavy, as though it might rain at any moment.
Despite herself, her thoughts drifted back again.
Had Murong Qian read the letter?
Had she ignored it?
Or had she simply burned it and forgotten entirely?
Su Yuxiao closed her eyes briefly.
She needed to stop thinking about it.
But she couldn't.
Across the city, Murong Qian sat in her garden.
The lotuses were beginning to close, their petals folding inward as the day grew heavier. A maid approached and placed a cup of tea beside her before stepping back.
"Wait," Murong Qian said.
The maid paused.
"The servant who delivered the letter yesterday where did she come from?"
"The Prime Minister's residence, Your Highness."
Murong Qian nodded slightly, her gaze returning to the pond as she picked up the cup. The surface of the water remained still beneath the grey sky.
Rain was coming.
She thought of the girl again, the one who had sat beside her without asking for anything and had sent a message without expectation of a reply.
That alone made the situation harder to read.
Murong Qian lowered the cup slightly, her expression unreadable.
She did not respond.
But she did not forget.