A few days later, at Yongning Manor.
Duan Yunfei sat under the eaves of Feiyun Pavilion, looking at the letter Xuan Ming had just taken from Qian San's hands, the corners of his lips slightly curved.
The letter didn't contain much, just a few words, roughly saying: "Two months apart, missing you deeply, snow heavy and cold deep, hope you take care, until we meet again — Qinglan"
"What's with him? Got a cramp in his mouth?"
Le Zhao came out of the room with an apple, took a bite, and poked Xuan Ying next to him.
"You're the one with cramps." Xuan Ying glared at him, "The Young Master is reading Miss Shen's letter."
"A letter?" Le Zhao raised an eyebrow and sneered, "So old Tang couldn't manage to bring her here?"
"You think Miss Shen is still the same as she used to be?" Xuan Ying crossed his arms and leaned lightly against the door, "Old Tang's excuses might fool the old Miss Shen, but not today's Miss Shen."
