Early the next morning, Nalan Yanran rose and headed to the west wing.
She raised her hand and knocked, her knuckles making crisp sounds against the wooden door, but no one answered.
Her brows drew together slightly as she pushed the door open and entered. The room was empty, the bedding neatly folded. The teacup still held a trace of warmth, but its occupant was nowhere to be seen.
Her heart tightened, and she turned and rushed toward the east wing.
Yun Yun's room was equally deserted. Only a note remained on the table, its ink still fresh.
The note held only a few words: beware of Xiao Yan.
Nalan Yanran clutched the note, her knuckles paling slightly as her chest heaved.
She had tossed and turned last night, thinking it over until morning. She had finally persuaded herself to swallow her pride and seek out Fan Tian today. Even if she had to bow her head and admit her mistake, gaining his support would give her a better chance in the Three-Year Agreement.
But now he had left, and she had not even seen his face.
"Teacher, you've changed. You won't even tell me when you're leaving anymore?"
She tightened her grip on the note, hurt and resentment churning in her eyes, but a surge of stubbornness soon forced them down.
Taking a deep breath, she folded the note, tucked it into her sleeve, and strode out of the room.
"Yanran."
Nalan Su approached from the end of the covered walkway, concern showing on his face.
"That lord and Sect Master Yun left before dawn this morning. I couldn't stop them..."
"I know," Nalan Yanran interrupted, her voice calm. "There's no need to say any more, Father."
She went to bid Nalan Jie farewell.
The old man leaned against