A Farm Girl: Three Acres of Fertile Land Can Be Exchanged for a Country

Chapter 11 Writing a Reply

The letter was small, and even though she wrote in very thick characters, both sides were completely filled, leaving no room for her signature.

Wutong held the letter in her hand, turning it over and over, feeling a complex mix of emotions that were hard to describe.

Ruolan's suggestion was very kind, and she spoke it carefully, choosing her words carefully. But whenever Wutong thought of her and her husband, she would think of Zhao Sanyang's bright smiling face.

Zhao Sanyang was not yet twenty years old. He was unmarried and had no children. His wish was to fight until old age like his father and grandfather, then return to the countryside in southern Xinjiang to farm, build a house, get married, and live out the rest of his life surrounded by his children and grandchildren.

He's such a simple person, why should even his chance to survive be taken away?

Zhou Pan'an was someone he risked his life for; the better and more successful Zhou Pan'an became, the more tragic his death seemed.

Wutong sighed deeply, folded the letter into a ball and stuffed it into her clothes, picked up a piece of pastry from the table, crushed it and fed it to the pigeons.

Yinling had been listening to her the whole time and guessed that someone had written her a letter. Curious, she leaned over and asked, "Who wrote it?"

Wutong smiled and said, "My older sister."

Silver Bell blinked enviously, "That's so nice. I used to have an older sister too, but alas..."

Yinling's older sister, isn't that a princess? This was the first time Wutong had heard her talk about her family so openly, so she asked, "Where are your family now? In the palace?"

Silver Bell shook her head sadly: "No, they're all dead."

"Dead?" Wutong was somewhat surprised.

Yinling's father's death was expected, as a new emperor ascended the throne only after the old emperor's passing. But even if her father was dead, wasn't Duan Yanxi one of her brothers? And then there was her mother, her brothers and sisters. Royal family members are often numerous. Why did Yinling say they were all dead?

She recalled Yinling's past insults towards Duan Yanxi and tentatively asked, "Is Duan Yanxi your older brother or your younger brother?"

Yinling shook her head again: "Forget it, I can't explain this to you..." She stopped and sniffed, smelling the aroma of food. She immediately changed the subject, clapping her hands in feigned delight: "Great! The food is ready. Let's get off the bus and eat!"

After saying that, without waiting for Wutong to respond, he pulled her to get out of the car.

After a short rest at noon, the group continued their journey in the afternoon.

Wutong learned from Yinling that the man in black was an old guard who had served the King of Southern Xinjiang for many years. His name was Li Deming, and he was said to be a descendant of a famous martial arts master. He was highly skilled in martial arts and had been invited to protect Duan Fufeng, who was then a prince, for a long time.

He shared the same surname as Commandant Li, and their personalities were somewhat similar—both were very calm and taciturn. However, while Commandant Li was not talkative, he was actually very kind and approachable. This Li Deming, after removing his mask, revealed a sinister glint in his otherwise ordinary eyes, making people hesitant to approach him.

He was the leader of the team sent to rescue Silverbell, and everyone looked up to him.

In the afternoon, Wutong wanted to write a reply to Ruolan to tell her about her recent situation, but she didn't have any paper or pen at hand, so she mustered up her courage to ask Li Deming.

Li Deming glanced at her with a fierce look in his eyes, as if he were scraping flesh with a knife, as if he could see right through her.

Who are you writing this to?

Wutong truthfully replied, "My older sister."

Li Deming reached out his hand to one of the men, who then spurred their horses to catch up, untied the bundle, and handed it to him.

He took out paper, pen and other items and handed them to Wutong. Wutong reached out to take them, but couldn't pull them away. She realized he was still holding them tightly, without any force.

What does it mean?

Wutong was puzzled. After a moment, he let go of her hand and said calmly, "We didn't plan to save you in the first place. It was Princess Yinling who insisted on seeing you, otherwise she wouldn't leave. I hope you won't disappoint her."

Wutong remained silent, looking down at the banknotes, and said softly, "I understand, don't worry."

Li Deming didn't say anything more, but just whipped the horse's rump again.

Wutong returned to the carriage to write a letter. The ink was already ground and contained in a bamboo tube with a stopper, so it wouldn't spill even if shaken.

Halfway through writing, Yinling leaned over enviously, sniffing the ink, and said, "I also really want to write a letter. Back when I was in the Imperial Study, my handwriting was the best. Even the Grand Tutor praised it."

Wutong raised her head slightly, looked at her lifeless eyes, and said, "I'll write it for you."

Yinling waved her hand: "No need, I don't have anyone to write to... I really want to write one to Brother Fufeng..."

She rested her chin on her hand, pouted, and said dejectedly, "It's a pity he won't read it even if I write it; he's so busy."

In the month since they met, Wutong had heard the name of the King of Southern Xinjiang from her countless times.

She was certain that Yinling deeply loved him, but this love was expressed with great caution; she could only yearn for him from afar and dared not get close.

The two of them are engaged and grew up together, so why are they being so distant?

She couldn't help but glance at Yinling again. Yinling's face was like that of a maid painted by the most aesthetically pleasing artist, with soft lines, fair skin, and flawless features, except for her slightly dim eyes.

Once her eyes are healed, she will surely become even more beautiful and charming.

Suddenly, Duan Fufeng's face flashed through Wutong's mind for a moment, and she couldn't help but think that the two were a perfect match, both in terms of family background and appearance.

After sending out the letter, more than a month later, the group finally arrived outside Lingyun Prefecture.

This wasn't Wutong's first time here. She had accompanied Abuduo to a banquet on horseback before, and an embarrassing incident had occurred that night, forcing her to flee alone.

When she left the city gate, she was filled with boundless sorrow, feeling as if the sky had fallen and the earth had cracked.

So much time has passed, Abuduo is dead, and she has escaped death from Dongqi several times. Compared to life and death, that incident seems somewhat insignificant. If she doesn't think about it specifically, she won't even remember it.

Wutong hid inside the carriage, looking up through the window at the tall, continuous city walls of Lingyun Prefecture.

The city wall was built with countless huge stones, held together by a mixture of glutinous rice and clay, making it even stronger than copper walls and iron ramparts, protecting the entire city as if it were an impregnable fortress.

Three gates were opened in the city wall, one large and two small.

The main gate was reserved for the military and the King of Southern Xinjiang, and was never opened on ordinary days.

The left gate was for ordinary people to enter and exit, guarded by guards who strictly checked people's information, and people had to queue up to enter the city.

The door on the right is like a special emergency exit, through which all important people pass.

At this moment, a group of guards on tall horses stood outside the right gate; they were sent by the King of Southern Xinjiang to greet them.

Li Deming was familiar with the guards; he had personally trained the entire guard team of the Prince's mansion. He went over and said a few words, and the guards ran over to drive the carriage, taking Yinling and Wutong into the city.

End of this chapter