Walking along the street, one wouldn't notice—
Yet resting on the table like this and gazing out the window, the dancing flurries of snow seemed breathtakingly beautiful.
It was noon, a rare hour when a faint trace of daylight appeared. In no time at all, these cotton-like flakes would likely blanket the entire town in white.
"It's very safe here. There's no need to worry about me. You can rest a while longer; I'll wake you once Boss Cat finishes making lunch."
Lanqi set down the book in his hands and spoke to Xigelei.
His voice was pitched soft enough not to disturb the half-awake girl, yet carried a subtle undertone of an instruction.
Perhaps only when framed as a work order could she sleep with peace of mind.
"Mm."
Drowsiness flared up within Xigelei almost instantly. She slumped against the table, letting out a faint whimper.
His gentle voice sounded even more like a lullaby at times like this.
For some reason, she felt as though she had just had a dream—an endless winter like the descent of eternity. In her hazy memory, she had been trekking across boundless snowfields together with this very person beside her.
Yet even though they had clearly been on the run in the dream, she had felt not a shred of panic.
It was indeed a dream, a rare sweet dream. In reality, no matter how safe things appeared, she had never known peace of mind.
It wouldn't be surprising if one day the Blood Clan caught up to her and killed her.
Xigelei closed her eyes, sinking into slumber once more.
Even so...
She wished she could linger in this gentle comfort just a little longer, even for a moment.
...
Dozens of minutes later, wind and snow swirled over Little Night City.
In this cozy living room, the decor appeared somewhat rustic yet full of charm. Lanqi and Xigelei sat beside a wooden table.
Several half-empty plates rested upon it.
Today, Boss Cat's chosen main course was sous-vide beef short ribs with black truffle and mushroom sauce—a dish widely praised at Boss Cat Restaurant for its tender meat and rich umami. The ribs, slow-cooked to perfection, were sprinkled with precious black truffle shavings and accompanied by rich sauce, making every bite a feast for the palate.
The staple dish, lemon-flavored salt-baked lobster noodles, had taken the longest. Fresh lobster meat was tossed with delicate handmade noodles and paired with lemon juice and spices, delivering a flavorful experience that was zesty, slightly spicy, and refreshingly vibrant.
There was also a dish favored by children: caramel roast duck with roasted pears and black pepper honey sauce. Tender duck meat roasted to a crisp caramel hue, complemented by the sweetness of roasted pears and the mild kick of the black pepper honey sauce.
*Burp.*
Xigelei leaned back against her chair. As always, she had finished her lunch far faster than Lanqi.
She perpetually resembled a feral child devouring food like a starving tiger, without a shred of table manners.
Naturally, this was also partly due to Lanqi's indulgence.
In the guidelines handed down by the secretary before their departure, she had actually been forbidden from dining with Lanqi in such a manner.
Only after receiving personal confirmation from Lanqi telling her to do whatever made her comfortable did she completely stop caring.
Lanqi continued eating at an unhurried pace.
Seeing this, Xigelei retrieved a sheet of letter paper and a pen from her luggage.
If she was going to accompany him into the Demon Realm, it would be a long time before she could find a courier to send letters back to the Polant Empire. Little Night City was the last city-state where mail could be dispatched.
Xigelei bowed her head and gripped the pen, a troubled look slowly creeping onto her face. Her strokes were clumsy, and from time to time, she had to stop and ponder how to write a word.
Her expression betrayed a complete lack of confidence in her writing, yet it was filled with an earnest desire to express herself.
Lanqi set down his utensils and lightly dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
He did not rush Xigelei, merely watching her paper with a gentle and amused expression.
"I'll be done soon," Xigelei promised, scratching her head as she got stuck again.
She had never attended school; the few words she knew had been taught to her by the nun at the orphanage.
"Do you need some help?" Lanqi asked.
"Then... help me out," Xigelei said, finally looking up at him after wrestling with her thoughts for a while.
This time, she did not refuse his offer to teach her.
"First of all, the purpose of writing a letter is to convey your longing and allow the recipient to feel it. If it is merely a dry, routine record of what you ate each day, wouldn't it read more like a diary? The recipient won't truly know whether you're doing well or not."
Lanqi sat across the table, his posture upright and elegant. His fingers lightly tapped the tabletop as he seemed to consider how best to guide Xigelei.
"True..."
Xigelei looked down at her clumsy handwriting, looking a bit crestfallen.
"It's all right. You're very smart, and writing letters is actually quite simple."
Lanqi shifted his chair and sat down beside Xigelei.
His gaze was gentle and focused across the edge of the paper, his voice brimming with encouragement.
Xigelei's small hands were covered in chilblains and calluses. She raised her head to look at Lanqi again, waiting for him to continue.
"Xigelei, try not to just write down words you want to state, but the feelings in your heart—the way you miss your younger brothers and sisters," Lanqi began softly.
Having seen Xigelei writing letters over the past few days, he had gained a general idea of her life and circumstances.
"But I don't know how to put it into words. It's already good that I can write any words at all," Xigelei replied, sounding slightly bewildered.
"Xigelei, everyone's emotions are unique. Your love for them, your longing—these belong entirely to you, and they don't require ornate rhetoric."
Patiently, Lanqi explained slowly and clearly how to express oneself through words.
"Sometimes in doing things, there is no need to think that you must score a hundred. Thinking of aiming for a sixty is enough. That makes it far easier to take the first step and tackle what's in front of you. You'll find that in the time spent fretting and hesitating over how to produce a single perfect, hundred-point work, you could have comfortably embarked on five sixty-point tasks."
Then Lanqi picked up a pen and demonstrated writing a few words in his own notebook.
He would not write the letter for Xigelei; he merely showed her how to write the words she had struggled with earlier.
In the end, it still had to come from her own thoughts.
"..."
Xigelei hesitated for a moment.
"You don't need to worry about me. I'm very safe."
She picked up her pen again and began to write slowly, reciting aloud for Lanqi:
"My work is going very well, but without you all by my side, my heart feels a little empty."
Her tone grew steadily more confident.
"Very good, Xigelei, just like that. Speak from your heart, and I'll teach you any words you don't know," Lanqi encouraged her.
The faint daylight filtering in from outside intertwined with the indoor lamps, and this quiet, snowy day bore witness to their harmonious companionship.
It was as though Xigelei was gradually shedding her defensive shell, opening her heart as her words became more fluent and sincere.
"Sometimes, when I see beautiful scenery along the way, I think about how happy you all would be if you were here to see it,"
she wrote, murmuring the words aloud for Lanqi.
"That is precisely what you should share, Xigelei. Genuine feelings," Lanqi said, nodding in agreement.
He was not merely teaching language and writing techniques, but sharing his appreciation of life and subtle understanding of emotion.
Boss Cat stood up from its chair, resting its paws against the corner of the table as it peered at Xigelei's letter.
It realized that Lanqi seemed genuinely adept at getting along with children.
For a moment, it actually felt as though Lanqi had turned into a normal person.
It seemed that Hubao's and its own counsel had indeed been effective; his condition was finally improving.
As long as he didn't suddenly have an episode and teach children how to make zombies or mummies, he really was quite wonderful.
Chapter 552