Burn That Letter

Three hundred li east of Heaven Dou City lies the Ye Family Estate.

This is an old house built halfway up a mountain, with blue bricks and gray tiles, hidden in a grove of ginkgo trees.

Autumn is deep, and the ground is covered with fallen ginkgo leaves, like a thin layer of gold leaf.

A gust of wind blew, and leaves fell from the eaves. A few landed in the water tank under the eaves, floating on the backs of the koi, swaying gently.

Gu Mei sat by the water vat, trimming the flower branches with an extremely fine silver pair of scissors.

She cut very slowly, each cut like she was cutting an invisible piece of silk.

The fingers were slender and pale, with even knuckles, and only a very thin callus at the base of the thumb.

That was left from when I was young and wielding a sword.

She hasn't wielded a sword for many years now, but the calluses on her hands haven't completely disappeared; they're like an old habit ingrained in her bones.

"Madam, we have a guest."

An old servant poked half his body in through the moon gate, his voice low, his hands wiping incessantly on his apron, as if he had just come from the kitchen.

"Who goes there?" Gu Mei didn't look up, but slowly cut a withered branch off at the base.

"They said they were from the north, an old acquaintance of the Gu Family. They only handed over half a copper coin and didn't say anything."

Gu Mei finally stopped.

She raised her eyes and looked at the old servant.

The old servant was indeed holding half an old copper coin in his hand. The coin had a tiny pattern engraved on its surface, and the edges were worn smooth, as if it had been caressed by countless hands.

She put down the silver scissors, took out a plain handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe her hands, and then carefully folded it before saying, "Please go to the west wing, and don't disturb the people in the front yard."

The old servant acknowledged and withdrew.

Gu Mei stood up.

Today she wore a very simple turquoise jacket, her hair was simply tied up in a loose bun and adorned with a white jade hairpin. She wore no valuable jewelry, yet she inexplicably exuded an air of refined elegance that was impossible to look away from.

She walked to the porch and glanced towards the front yard in the distance.

The lights were still on in the main hall of the Ye Family. Her husband, Ye Qing'an, had not yet returned. He had heard that there was trouble on the trade routes in the Eastern Frontier of the Federation, and he had been staying at the official post station for the past two days.

She withdrew her gaze and turned to walk towards the west wing.

Her embroidered shoes rustled on the fallen leaves, like the steady, yet heavier, beating of her heart.

The west wing was unlit.

The visitor stood under the window, wearing an old gray-black cloak, completely covered from head to toe, with only his eyes showing.

When the man saw her come in, he took off his hood, revealing an unremarkable face, and took out a very thin letter from his pocket, which he handed over respectfully.

"Your Highness asks if the old friends in the Star Luo Empire are still well."

Gu Mei did not answer.

She walked to the table, slowly sat down, and poured herself half a cup of cold tea.

The tea had gone cold, but she picked it up and took a sip, her gaze fixed on the old ginkgo tree outside the window, as if she hadn't heard what the person had said at all.

After a long while, she finally spoke, her voice very soft, as if it were drifting from a great distance:

"An old friend? Which old friend?"

The spy lowered his head, placed the letter on the table, and lightly pressed his finger on the corner of the letter. "His Highness said that if the lady does not wish to read it, then it should be considered as if this letter was never delivered."

Gu Mei lowered her eyes.

The letter lay beside her, thin and unsealed, with only a tiny pattern stamped on the corner.

She didn't touch it, she just watched quietly.

A breeze blew through the window, carrying a few ginkgo leaves inside.

One of the pieces landed on the envelope, golden and shimmering, like a withered butterfly.

"What else did His Highness say?" she asked.

"His Highness said that whether or not to send a letter is up to Madam. Whether Miss Ye responds or not is also up to her. Star Luo Empire simply pushed the door open a crack."

After hearing this, Gu Mei's lips curved into a very slight smile.

That smile wasn't a smile; it was more like a crescent moon reflected in deep water, cold and silent.

She slowly put down the teacup, her fingertips lingering on the envelope for a moment before she withdrew them.

"You can go now," she said. "I'll burn this letter tonight."

The spy didn't move, but asked in a low voice, "Does Madam have any message for me to convey?"

Gu Mei turned her head and looked out the window.

The night was so dark that it seemed impossible to see through, and the crescent moon peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the ginkgo trees in the courtyard as if they were coated with frost.

She stared for a long time, so long that the spy thought she wouldn't speak again, before she whispered:

"Tell Your Highness that Star Luo Empire's faint bloodline is in Shrek's hands. Don't even think about harming her. She is no one's weapon, and she never will be. I forced her to leave back then, not so you could drag her back in this chaotic world."

Her voice was calm, as if she were talking about something unrelated to herself, yet every word carried something extremely deep and heavy.

The spy dared not accept the order again. He bowed respectfully, put his hood back on, and disappeared into the night.

Gu Mei was left alone in the west wing again.

She sat for a moment, then got up and went to the window. She picked up the ginkgo leaf that had fallen on the envelope, held it between her fingers, examined it, then broke it in half and threw it, along with the letter, into the small charcoal stove where tea was being brewed.

With a flicker of flame, the letter and the fallen leaves burst into flames, flashing brightly for a moment before slowly curling up, turning black, and finally crumbling into ashes. The wind carried them out of the furnace, drifting out the window and scattering them into the vast night.

Gu Mei stood by the window, watching the ashes drift away, and suddenly let out a very soft sigh.

"Xing Lan..." she called softly.

She recalled many years ago.

The ginkgo trees weren't this tall back then.

When Ye Qing'an returned from outside, he would always stand under the tree for a while, brushing off the leaves that had fallen on his shoulders before going inside.

Xing Lan was still young, having just learned to walk. Holding a ginkgo leaf as a sword, she stumbled and gestured at the steps, babbling incoherently.

Gu Mei sat under the eaves embroidering. Occasionally, she would look up and see two shadows, one big and one small, chasing each other in the golden light scattered on the ground. She would think that it would be good to live her life like this.

Later, Xing Lan awakened the Stargod Sword.

That night, Ye Qing'an stood guard outside her door, silent as a stone.

When Gu Mei entered, Xing Lan was huddled in the corner of the bed, her eyes still shining with lingering starlight, and asked her, "Mom, am I amazing?"

Gu Mei looked at her as if she were looking at a newly sharpened sword.

The sword was too sharp, too bright, bright enough to shatter the peaceful lives of all of them.

She didn't dare say "yes".

Her father died by the sword, but her daughter is even more talented.

So she shook her head and said, "It's not good. Don't practice anymore, learn something else from Mom."

Xing Lan didn't say anything, she just buried her face in the blanket.

Her little shoulders trembled all night.

The next day, she never mentioned the sword again.

But after that, there was always a small shadow in the Ye Family's courtyard, taking a broom and gesturing behind the tree when no one was around.

Gu Mei had witnessed this several times, but she didn't expose it. She just stood under the eaves and watched, her heart aching with pain.

Later, Xing Lan went to Shrek.

The day Ye Qing'an saw her off, the ginkgo leaves fell like a golden rain.

Xing Lan, dressed in new clothes, stood at the door and glanced back at her.

There was no resentment or reluctance in that glance; he simply looked at her quietly.

Gu Mei cried until midnight that night.

Ye Qing'an sat down next to her, offering no words of advice, but simply holding her hand.

Neither of them spoke.

Now, the ginkgo leaves have fallen all over the ground again.

Gu Mei stood by the window, her fingertips still carrying a faint smell of paper ash.

She slowly raised her hand, tucked the stray hairs behind her ear, and looked towards the front yard.

The lights were still on there.

Ye Qing'an hasn't returned yet.

The wind is strong tonight, making the ginkgo trees in the courtyard rustle, like countless tiny swords darting through the leaves.

She suddenly wondered, if Xing Lan hadn't left that year, if the Stargod Sword hadn't awakened, if the Federation hadn't pressed on relentlessly, would she still be by her side now, practicing her sword under the eaves, scattering ginkgo leaves everywhere?

That scene was so distant, like something from a past life.

She cried for a long time on the day she heard that Shrek had been destroyed.

She begged her husband to inquire everywhere, and the final message she received was: he might be alive, but his whereabouts were unknown.

She exhaled softly, put the silver scissors back into her sleeve, and turned to walk out of the west wing.

The moonlight shone on her, turning her frost-blue jacket into a very pale silver-white.

She passed through the moon gate, walked into the courtyard, and stopped in front of the old ginkgo tree.

The bark is rough, with several very shallow scratches on it, as if it had been carved by something small and sharp many years ago.

She reached out and touched one of the marks, a mark left by Xing Lan when she was five years old with a stone shard.

"Xing Lan, my daughter, if you were still alive..."

"Don't blame Mom... okay?"