The three returned letters lay on Ning’s desk in the clinic yard. Their seals had been cut and pressed shut again. The fourth had arrived only yesterday, its corners dark from rain and handling.
Yan touched the edge of the first envelope. “Why didn’t any of these reach the ship?”
“I didn’t hide them from you,” Ning said. “I kept the messengers’ names to myself until I knew who could be trusted.”
Bai leaned against the table. He had mapped each route from the scraps of notes inside the envelopes. “The first carrier left his letter at a village shrine. An inspector copied the contents before returning it. The second was stopped at the bridge toll. The last went through two caravan families and sat at a checkpoint for six days.”
Yan’s jaw tightened. “Who was the bridge keeper?”
“We don’t know that he opened it,” Bai said. “The seal was cut. That’s what we know.”
“I could ride there and ask.”
“And close the only road our suppliers still use,” Ning said. “If the families who carried these letters become known, the Registry may stop every message coming through them.”
