On the very day the autumn examinations concluded and the Dragon Gate opened, Lena Sanders' Swiftwind Couriers officially began operations.
After ten days and nine nights locked away in the examination halls—dizzy, bleary-eyed, and reeking of confinement—the scholars staggered out through the Dragon Gate, only to have flyers for Swiftwind Couriers thrust into their hands.
The notice was concise and clear: Swiftwind Couriers specialized in letter delivery throughout the prefectures of Chenzhou, Yingzhou, Shouzhou, and Wuweizhou.
Delivery times were proudly listed—letters to Chenzhou's Huaiyang Prefecture would arrive the next day; to Yingzhou's Ruyin Prefecture in two; to Shouzhou's Shouchun Prefecture in three; and to Wuweizhou in five. Deliveries to county towns added a day, and to villages and hamlets, two.
The prices were modest: two hundred copper coins for a letter to Chenzhou. Small lines at the side noted two things—each letter must not exceed one tael and five mace in weight, and that delivery to Yingzhou cost an additional hundred coins, to Shouzhou two hundred, and to Wuweizhou three hundred.
Stacks of these flyers, thick and thin, appeared at the gates of every yamen, merchants' guild, and academy across Castleton.
Outside Donghua Gate, where officials of all ranks entered and exited, Darren Chang handed out flyers with relentless energy—one for every passerby, be they grand minister or lowly clerk.
The morning's broadsheets in Castleton all bore the same crimson headline in bold print: Swiftwind Couriers, followed by the details from the flyer.
Gavin Shea received his own copy on his way from court. Reading it astride his horse, he paused, drew in a breath, and handed it to Simon Wen with a frown. "Go see for yourself."
Simon took one glance at the address printed in large type on the back and signaled to the guards.
The courier shop lay not far from Donghua Gate, just south along Gaotou Street. As soon as Gavin turned his horse, he saw the two great characters—Swiftwind—fluttering high above the rooftops.
Simon let out an involuntary laugh. Measuring the towering banner pole against the nearby corner tower, he marveled aloud, "It's only a little shorter than the East Watchtower! Where on earth did Miss Li find a pole that tall?"
"Pan Qi would know," Gavin said coolly.
Spurring his horse, he rode up to the junction where the giant pole stood. Beneath it sat a small shopfront, and there was Lena Sanders herself, lounging in a bamboo chair, one foot propped up, leisurely cracking melon seeds.
Simon craned his neck to take in the towering banner with its bold letters, and then the tiny storefront beneath it—an incongruous sight if ever there was one.
One of those banners alone could have covered her entire shop—and then some.
Gavin dismounted. Lena rose, tucking away her seeds. From within the shop, Harris Ma burst out, blurting "Prince Heir—!" but swallowed the rest, straightened up, and hurried to stand respectfully behind Lena.
Gavin stepped back a few paces, surveying the surroundings. To the west, beyond a single wall, lay the Dali Temple prison. To the north, a bootmaker's shop. Beyond that, a herbal pharmacy. Diagonally opposite—a coffin maker's.
"Why choose such a place?" Gavin asked, brows furrowed.
"Boss said so," Harris replied proudly before Lena could speak. "See—Dali Temple stands for the law, the boot shop means quick fortune, and coffins—'guan' and 'cai'—sound like 'official' and 'wealth'!"
Simon couldn't help but laugh again.
"First," Lena began cheerfully, "it's easy to find. Second, a letter costs two hundred coppers—our clients aren't paupers. Most come with horses or carriages. This corner's wide; plenty of space for traffic, and the open ground before the prison makes for a fine lot for horses and carts once business grows.
Third, there's room for a stable behind the shop. The frontage may be narrow, but the back opens into a spacious courtyard—with its own well!
And it's cheap. The place's been on sale three or four years with no buyers. I got it for twenty taels of silver. Among all the unsold properties, this was the best."
She smiled as she beckoned Gavin to follow her to the rear.
"All the unsold ones?" Gavin repeated, catching the key phrase.
"Mmh. Money must be spent wisely. Look—this yard's big, isn't it?"
Indeed, the courtyard behind the shop was broad and tidy. Stables lined both sides, with sturdy horses swishing their tails as they grazed.
Beyond the yard, Lena pointed to the moat glimmering in the distance. "See there—the moat, with clear water and shade. Cool in summer.
That's the prison wall—high and secure.
This whole row of warehouses runs to Donghua Gate. Most are empty, except mine, which has a yard. Perfect—no one will complain about the smell of horses.
And that empty patch over there? Half an acre—also mine. I'll plant vegetables there and compost horse manure for fertilizer. The crops will thrive.
Pan Qi said many of these nearby warehouses—dozens, even—have stood vacant for five or six years. He'll ask if I can lease them cheaply. Once business grows, we'll need more stables anyway."
Simon chuckled again, glancing along the row. Those warehouses belonged to the Palace Arsenal and the Armory Bureau, with a few under the Ministry of Works.
The Prince Heir himself commanded the Palace Arsenal, and Shouzhen oversaw the Armory Bureau. As for the Ministry—well, she did seem on good terms with Pan Qi.
"That warehouse belongs to the Armory Bureau," Gavin said mildly. "If you wish to lease it, speak with Shouzhen."
They walked back through the shop. Gavin tilted his head up at the towering banner. "The wind has no root, no origin, no anchor—why choose that word?"
"Boss said, wind travels faster than water," Harris chimed in.
Simon bit back a grin, squinting at the silk banner. "Wait—is that…a hole in it?" he asked, pointing.
Harris grinned. "Good eye, Fourth Master! That's on purpose—Boss said it's so tall the wind'll be strong, so she left gaps to let the air through. Otherwise, the silk might tear. Finest silk, too—four taels of silver for just those two characters!"
Gavin couldn't help but laugh. Well, so be it. The flyers were already all over the city—there was no turning back now.
He had even asked the Astronomical Bureau to pick auspicious names and scouted several better locations… but never mind.
"Master Li!"
A young servant rode up, waving from afar. Leaping down, he bowed quickly to Gavin. "Prince Heir! Fourth Master!"
Gavin recognized him—Paul Denton's servant, Tingxi. Before he could ask, the lad explained, grinning, "Our Seventh Master sent me with a few letters for delivery. He said Master Li's business is small and can't afford credit, so he told me to bring the full payment in silver and copper."
Gavin gestured for him to go inside.
Tingxi bowed again and went in. Gavin remained at the doorway, watching Harris and the accountants receive the letters and payment with practiced order.
When the servant departed, Gavin turned to Lena. "If you need anything—or anyone—come to me, or Shouzhen, or even Zhihe."
"All right," Lena replied with a bright smile, before turning back into her shop.
――――――――――――
After supper, Gavin stopped by Brightpeace Palace before heading to the Ministry of Revenue.
Gu Jin greeted him with a grin, lifting a flyer from her desk. "You've seen this? Two hundred coins to Chenzhou, and it arrives the next day! I'm half tempted to send all these documents through Swiftwind myself!"
She laughed.
"She set up shop right beside the Dali Temple prison," Gavin said, sitting down. "Bought it for twenty taels. Erected a banner pole nearly as tall as the East Tower—half the city can see it. Quite the spectacle."
"Has she business yet?" Gu Jin asked, smiling.
"I stayed just a short while. In that time, Paul Denton's servant alone brought more than ten letters. I watched Harris and two old accountants register them all before I left."
"And?" Gu Jin asked, intrigued.
"Very orderly. They logged each letter—sender, destination—bound them with hemp cord, sealed with wax, and attached two numbered slips: one to the letter, one as receipt for the sender. Records could be checked within a year.
Four cabinets along the wall, each labeled for a prefecture, with shelves for counties beneath. Every letter sorted at once."
"Mm." Gu Jin smiled. "The real challenge lies not in receiving but delivering. How has she arranged that?"
"For the first dispatch—Jack Golden to Wuwei, Harris Ma to Shouzhou, Darren Chang to Yingzhou. She herself will cover Chenzhou and Castleton."
"Good. Assign a reliable overseer for Castleton—no need to interfere, just observe. As for the riders," Gu Jin's lips twitched in amusement at the term, "and the horses and grooms, have Zhihe keep an eye on things until she finds her rhythm."
"Understood," Gavin said readily.
Those thirty riders and a dozen grooms had indeed been chosen from retired soldiers—by Simon Wen, at Lena's request.
――――――――――――
That day, aside from the friendly patronage of Paul Denton, William Chen, and Simon Wen, Swiftwind Couriers received just seven genuine letters—seven letters across three prefectures. But together with the courtesy ones, all four routes were covered.
At dawn the next morning, Jack Golden and Harris Ma each rode out with a single horse, while Darren Chang rode one and led another, all passing through Chenzhou Gate and heading south.
Lena inspected the shop, gathered a few letters, and set off for Chenzhou herself.
Those bound for Huaiyang were all courtesy letters—each addressed to someone within the city.
Her local partner there was the head of the Apothecaries' Guild, old Madam Nie.
When Lena arrived at the Chenzhou relay station, Madam Nie had been waiting half the day already.
"Oh, Master Li! You're here at last!" she cried, beaming as she hurried forward.
"I ate early today," she chattered as she poured tea. "Been waiting since noon. First came Master Mao—rode like a gale! Then a dark-faced gentleman, very auspicious-looking! Then another, tall as a god—Master Chang, I think?"
She talked without pause, bustling about as she poured tea and ushered Lena to sit.
"Thank you," Lena said, taking the cup and setting down her cloth bag. "Each bag is marked. Only take those labeled Huaiyang City—no others."
"Of course, I remember!" Madam Nie smoothed the bag and tapped the characters Huaiyang City with a knowing nod.
"Good." Lena opened the bag, removed a small bundle of letters, and handed her the inventory list. "Check each—names, addresses, count. Everything must match."
"Right away!" Madam Nie compared the list and letters one by one, then pressed her fingerprint on the document, followed by another mark in her ledger.
Lena added her own print beside hers.
"That's settled then," Madam Nie said briskly. "Seven letters, five coppers each, plus ten for the daily base—forty-five altogether."
"When I receive seven receipts tomorrow," Lena reminded her, raising a finger. "Miss one, it'll cost you a tael."
"Rest assured—none will be missing!" Madam Nie bundled the letters carefully in an old cloth and hurried off toward Huaiyang City.
Lena watched her disappear down the road before following at a distance.
All seven letters were Paul Denton's—addressed to his wife's family in Huaiyang.
Madam Nie headed straight to the Tian family estate in the east of the city, delivering each letter along the way, until all seven were done. The sealed receipts she bundled up carefully, clutching them to her chest as she trotted home.
Outside a pastry shop, she paused, glanced around, and after a long moment's thought, bought half a jin of sesame crisps—her small indulgence for the day.
Watching her from afar, Lena smiled faintly, then turned away in search of supper.
After eating, she returned to the relay, chose a horse, and rode through the night back to Castleton.