Xinyi: A Solitary Night, A Heavy Letter
The city outside her apartment window shimmered, but inside, the world had grown quiet.
Xinyi stood in the dim glow of her living room, staring at the small bundle of letters resting on the glass coffee table.
She hadn't touched them since she left the warehouse.
Not in the car.
Not when Ji Yao and Lin Zhou had escorted her upstairs.
Not even when Mei, ever the loyal second-in-command, hesitated at the door, clearly wanting to stay.
"I'll have the car pick you up in the morning," Mei had finally said. "It's not standard, but…"
She hadn't needed to finish the sentence.
Xinyi simply nodded. "Not standard, but necessary."
And now, as the door shut behind them, the weight of the night settled fully on her shoulders.
...
Unraveling the Past
She walked over, slowly lowering herself onto the couch.
The letters felt heavier than they should.
Her fingers brushed against the worn edges of the envelope. Her father's handwriting.
If you are reading this, then I have failed.
Her throat tightened.
Her father had been a difficult man—brilliant, calculating, but also haunted by something he never spoke of.
Xinyi had spent her life proving she was strong enough to lead.
But he had never trusted her with this.
She exhaled, finally slipping her finger under the flap. The paper inside was crisp but aged—preserved, but not untouched.
Someone else had read this before her.
She unfolded it carefully.
...
Her Father's Final Words
"Xinyi,
If you are reading this, then I have failed. And if I have failed, it means they will come for you next.
The curse was never just a burden—it was a debt.
And debts must always be paid.
I tried to break it. I tried to set things right, but I was not strong enough. If you wish to succeed where I have fallen, you must not only look to our past but also to our enemies. The curse is a lie that hides the truth.
You cannot break what you do not understand.
You cannot understand what you do not see.
Start where I failed. Find what I could not.
But do not trust them.
Not the Zhangs. Not the Elders. And not the ones who offer their help too freely.
They are all invested in keeping things as they are.
And Xinyi…
I did this so you wouldn't have to.
I thought if I fought hard enough, if I risked everything, you would be free of this burden. That my sacrifice would be the last. But I was wrong. And now, my failure is yours to carry.
If there were another way, I would have taken it. If I could rewrite fate, I would erase this road from beneath your feet.
But I cannot. And for that, I am sorry.
I have made you an heir to something cruel, and there is nothing I can do to stop it now.
I love you, my daughter.
But I have given you nothing but a fight you never asked for."
...
A Ghost in the Silence
Xinyi stared at the letter, the words engraving themselves into her bones.
The curse is a lie.
The Elders, the Zhangs, the ones who offer help—they all had a stake in this.
Her father had tried. And he had died for it.
Her hands clenched around the paper.
She should feel angry. Determined. Something.
Instead, all she felt was a bone-deep exhaustion.
She pressed her fingers against her temples, forcing herself to breathe.
He thought he was protecting her.
And yet, here she was, standing in the very place he tried to keep her from.
The weight of it settled in her chest—not just the inheritance of power, but the inheritance of loss.
Her vision blurred before she realized she was crying.
She hadn't even noticed.
Her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the paper, as if holding on to the words would change them.
Her lips parted, and in the quiet of her empty apartment, the words slipped out, raw and quiet.
"You fool…"
A tear slid down her cheek, falling onto the letter, smudging the ink just slightly.
Her voice trembled as she whispered,
"I loved you too."
And for the first time in a long time…
She didn't want to be alone.