Survival Guide After Accidentally Kissing a Demon - Chapter 163

Chapter 163

For this reply, Beili didn’t write about the trivialities of her daily life in a diary format like she had last time.

Of course, she didn’t just pull out a sheet of ordinary white paper or use a standard white envelope from the post office, either.

Lance’s letter had been so exquisite that it had sparked a competitive streak in her.

She felt she had to rally her spirits and put real effort into decorating her own letter.

It was as if they were in a competition to see whose letter would be more breathtaking.

One couldn’t blame Beili.

Lance was the one who had opened this particular field of competition.

She selected a sheet of jet-black stationery embossed with butterflies and a wine-red envelope.

Picking up a quill, she dipped it into silver ink.

Stroke by stroke, she wrote slowly, ensuring there were no mistakes as she described what kind of territory the Constance Family’s Butterfly Valley was.

Next, she ran into the valley to pick out several small butterflies with uniquely colored wings from among those that had recently died, and she also gathered some cute little wildflowers.

She cast a spell to dry and set them, quickly turning them into specimens before gluing them onto the stationery.

Perfume.

-Of course, she couldn’t forget the perfume.

She didn’t just spray the paper; she had to spray the envelope as well.

She even found a black silk ribbon to tie a beautiful bow around the thick red envelope.

By the time she finished the letter, the sun had already set.

Beili was extremely satisfied with the finished product, certain that when Lance opened this letter, he would gasp in awe just as she had when opening his.

Beili handed the letter to a servant, instructing her to take it to the town’s post office the next day.

The servant accepted the letter respectfully.

A night passed.

The next day, when the servant came to see the eldest daughter, Bartholomew, again, her eyes were so swollen from crying that it looked as if she had been severely stung by bees.

Because the letter the eldest daughter had entrusted to her was gone.

The servant knelt by Bartholomew’s bed with her hands clasped, waiting until she woke up.

“It’s the truth, I swear. I clearly remember putting that letter in the basket with my own hands, then covering it with a cotton cloth, and then putting the lid on… but when I got ready to leave today, I found the basket was empty.”

As the servant explained, she waited for her punishment in fear and trembling.

“Gone…”

The young girl had just woken up, her deep red eyes still misty with sleep. She repeated the servant’s words, her brow gradually furrowing.

“Could a rat have made off with it?”

“Perhaps…”

The servant nodded quickly, frantic sobs escaping her trembling lips.

“Forget it. Stop crying. It’s just a letter, not anything important. I’ll just write another one.”

Beili waved her off.

“Then about sending the letter-”

“I’ll arrange for someone else to send it.”

Relieved that she wasn’t being punished, the servant quickly wiped the tears from her face and left quietly.

It was just a letter; she could simply make another. Beili had plenty of leisure time now.

She also happened to need something to distract herself.

And so, the next day passed similarly.

Beili spent her time gathering butterflies and wildflowers, turning them into specimens to decorate the stationery, and choosing the silk ribbon for the bow on the envelope.

She followed the same process to create a nearly identical letter. In the afternoon, she handed it to the butler who was preparing to go out, asking him to stop by the post office while he was in town.
The butler respectfully took the letter from her hand and rode a horse away from Constance Castle.

However, before the sun had fully set, he rushed back to the castle with terrible news.

“What did you just say? A freak gust of wind blew just as you were about to enter the post office?”

Beili paused, repeating his words in disbelief. “And then that freak wind blew my letter straight into the blacksmith’s roaring furnace, where it was burned to ashes?”

“…Yes.”

The butler recalled chasing the letter as it was swept away by the wind. He had jumped several times but couldn’t catch it, eventually forced to watch helplessly as Miss Bartholomew’s letter flew into the furnace.

“I tried to salvage it, but unfortunately, the fire was too quick.”

The butler wore an expression full of apology as he bowed to the young woman.

Beili frowned, pressing a hand to her forehead. After taking a light breath, she said, “I understand.”

The third day.

Beili prepared a third letter, essentially a copy-paste of the previous ones.

This time, however, she clearly lacked the enthusiasm she’d had for the first and second letters. There were fewer butterflies and dried flowers, the bow on the envelope was gone, and as for the perfume… she forgot to spray it.

That was because Madam Constance had come to find her with a new edition of the Royal Post.

Today’s headline was a debunking of the photo from Rose Town published the day before-the one showing a kiss.

It wasn’t the second prince of the Royal Family and the eldest daughter of Butterfly Valley at all. They were simply two people who happened to look quite similar.

Beili had been distracted at the time, nodding absentmindedly and giving Madam Constance a vague “mm-hmm” to show she’d heard. As a result, she forgot to spray the perfume even though she was holding the bottle in her hand.

By the time she remembered the perfume, she was already sitting in the carriage on her way to town.

In any case-

Beili decided to go to the post office and mail the letter herself this time.

As the only town in Butterfly Valley, most of the valley’s commoners and Half-beasts lived here.

So, while it wasn’t as refined as Rose Town, it was still very lively.

The entire town was surrounded by green mountains, with a small river flowing through its center. When walking across the bridge, one could hear the slow, peaceful sound of running water.

The town’s roads were fairly wide, allowing carriages to pass through the main thoroughfare.

The Constance Family’s driver steered the carriage directly into the town, stopping at the roadside just a few meters from the post office.

Beili stepped out of the carriage. She could hear the clanging of hammers from the blacksmith’s shop, the glow of the furnace flickering in the doorway.

People standing on both sides of the street had set up simple stalls using tables and linen. Wicker baskets were neatly arranged on top, filled with various handmade goods, food, fabrics, and more.

Beili walked across the street toward the post office.

Her deep red eyes swept lightly over the stalls.

An old woman smiled as she tried to sell her a woven garland, while a young boy by the road stared curiously at the hem of her dress.

“Freak wind… there doesn’t seem to be any freak wind to me…”

With so many buildings around, where would a freak wind even come from?

She muttered to herself and stepped into the post office after only a few paces.