How can one express infinite longing? Gazing southeast, a single song—Phoenix Seeks the Phoenix.
Because of these lines, Serena Feng was completely unsettled, her mind dizzy and filled with images of Ninth Royal Uncle. In her head, she could almost picture him reciting to her: “There is a beauty—once seen, never forgotten. A day without her, and I am driven mad with longing…”
Serena rolled around on her bed like a pancake, tossing and turning until her maid reminded her it was time for dinner. Only then did she come out, cheeks flushed red.
Her eyes brimmed with emotion, her cheeks rosy. She was still herself, yet a subtle new charm radiated from her—every gesture less cold, every movement more girlish and tender. The maids stared in a daze, secretly wondering what had happened to make their mistress seem like a different person.
Serena was no longer her usual calm and composed self; her quiet eyes now sparkled with love. When she met the gazes of Jada Tang and Mira Tang, she nervously dodged their looks.
Serena kept thinking that if Jada Tang and Mira Tang found out, they would definitely tease her. Worse, if this got out, her reputation would suffer—after all, exchanging private letters was a risky business.
She hurried through dinner, sent all the maids away, and locked herself in the study. Grinding ink, spreading paper, she picked up her brush and wrote a few words—none of which satisfied her. Frustrated, she crumpled the sheet and tossed it aside.
After thinking it over, she tried again, but this time couldn’t even put down a single stroke. Feeling defeated, Serena set the brush aside, took out the letter from her bosom, and gently unfolded it, smoothing its creases on the desk.
This was the very first love letter she had ever received in two lifetimes—and it was written by the man she liked. The happiness was beyond words.
Serena gazed at the characters on the page and couldn’t help but break into a silly grin.
“Ninth Royal Uncle’s handwriting is just like him—bold, powerful, every stroke full of strength. Honestly, it’s wasted on a love letter.”
Every single character on the page was beautiful to her—except for the line demanding a reply.
Outside, the hidden guard watched Serena’s silly antics with complete clarity, yawning out of boredom.
He just couldn’t understand what was so fascinating about a scrap of paper. Ninth Royal Uncle had insisted on delivering it himself, while Miss Serena had been reading it over and over from afternoon to night—never getting tired of it. Truly… so dull!
But the feelings between Serena and Ninth Royal Uncle were something the guards could never comprehend. Neither of them was the type to toss off sweet words or indulge in constant affection. Both preferred action over talk; their daily interactions were respectful but short on tenderness. For them, exchanging letters by wild goose post was something new—a way to say the things they were too shy to speak aloud.
Serena read Nolan’s letter again and again, thinking and thinking, racking her brain for what to write. After ages, she finally figured it out—half embarrassed, half delighted, she picked up her brush and started writing, each character carefully and seriously formed.
Her handwriting wasn’t beautiful, and she didn’t want to send just any old draft. After all, this was their very first love letter—a keepsake for years to come. So after finishing, Serena painstakingly copied it out more than twenty times, until her hand was sore, before finally setting the brush down, satisfied.
Once the ink dried, Serena folded the sheet. Only then did it hit her: she had no idea how to deliver the letter to Ninth Royal Uncle. Marching over to hand it to him would be far too forward.
“What should I do?” Serena fretted, clutching the letter. Outside, the hidden guard was practically jumping with impatience, wishing he could burst in and tell her, 'Miss Serena, don’t worry—just leave the letter here, someone will pick it up.'
She didn’t leave the guard hanging for long; soon, Serena figured it out. “If Ninth Royal Uncle could sneak a letter in, he can surely take one out. I’ll just leave my reply in the study. If you don’t take it before tomorrow, I’ll tear it up—hmph.”
At this moment, Serena didn’t blame the hidden guard at all. She grabbed a common envelope from the market, didn’t bother to seal it, slipped her letter inside, and placed it on the desk under a paperweight.
Satisfied, Serena left the study with a glowing smile and called for Spring and Autumn to prepare her bath.
As soon as Serena left, the hidden guard slipped in, scooped up both the letter and all the discarded drafts she’d forgotten to destroy, and hurried off. He was sure that this time, reporting to Ninth Royal Uncle, he wouldn’t get scolded.
Just as the guard expected, when Ninth Royal Uncle saw what was brought in, he was stunned for a moment—then broke into a dazzling smile, like winter thawing into spring, almost blinding the guard.
Nolan dismissed the guard, shut all the doors and windows, and made sure he was alone. Suppressing his excitement, he forced himself to act casual, slowly setting the proper letter aside and turning his attention to the crumpled drafts.
Good things should be saved for last—even though he was impatient, he could wait a little longer.
From the creases in the paper, Nolan could tell the guards hadn’t peeked; they brought everything just as it was. He was very pleased by this.
Joking to himself, Nolan thought: if anyone dared read Serena’s letter before he did, they must be tired of living. Seeing her handwriting repeated over and over, his smile only deepened.
“What a silly girl—I’d never dislike your handwriting.” Even so, knowing Serena had put so much care into her reply made him genuinely happy.
After all, he’d written his own letter on a whim, unsure if Serena would even like this old-fashioned way of communicating.
After leaving the palace, the two parted ways, but as soon as Nolan returned to his residence, he missed Serena—missed her terribly. On impulse, he picked up his brush and wrote that letter, sneaking into the West District courtyard to leave it for her.
He’d thought Serena would scold him for being reckless, but to his surprise, she actually replied. Though her letter held only forty characters, for Nolan, those forty words weighed more than millions.
Reading Serena’s reply made him happier than stirring up chaos across the realm—this feeling was second only to seizing the world itself.
Nolan recited every word on the page, again and again, never tiring of it.
Holding your hand, I’ll share madness with you across a thousand lives; kissing your eyes, I’ll accompany you through ten thousand reincarnations.
Holding your hand, I’ll share one lifetime of storms; kissing your eyes, I’ll gift you one lifetime of deep affection.
In the corner, the hidden guard waited for Nolan’s orders. Seeing Nolan so dazed, the guard began to worry—would Nolan, like Serena, need someone to snap him out of it? If so, he’d be stuck standing here all night.
Tears… The guard silently gazed at the dark sky, lamenting his fate. He’d thought this was a good assignment, but now realized it was pure torture.
He worried too much; Nolan wasn’t Serena. Nolan was far busier—he didn’t have time to wallow in romance.
Once he calmed down, Nolan got up as if nothing had happened, retrieved a secret box from the bookshelf, opened it with practiced care, folded Serena’s letter inside, and sealed it securely. He checked it multiple times before putting the box back in its place.
Then he took out a larger box from the other end of the shelf, removed the ancient paintings stored inside, and carefully smoothed out all of Serena’s discarded drafts, placing them in the box as if handling priceless treasures. The tenderness in his eyes was enough to drown someone.
Years later, when Serena finally saw these two boxes—protected by Nolan at the cost of his life—she realized just how deeply this man loved her, far more than she had ever imagined…