The Pen Pal Predicament

“……Fine, I won’t argue with you.”

Upon witnessing Fanny and South Creek’s awkward silence, Jack’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. With a swift motion, he snatched the treasure from the ground, twirled it once in the air, and then, with a casual flick of his wrist, tossed it to the two girls.

“You… what exactly do you mean by this?”

“It means nothing. I have no need for this, and since you both seem to covet it so much, consider it yours.”

“……Are you plotting something?”

Fanny, predictably, found it difficult to trust Jack’s words. To her, this obnoxious fellow had been their adversary at every turn just days prior, and his sudden generosity simply didn’t sit right.

South Creek, however, remained silent, clutching the bag she had caught, her thoughts inscrutable.

“The treasure is now yours. Whatever you choose to think of me is entirely inconsequential,” Jack shrugged, an air of nonchalance about him.

Fanny, of course, remained blissfully unaware that he had just concluded a rather affectionate session with his animal companions and was now basking in the afterglow. His seemingly unconcerned demeanor was, in truth, merely a lingering reverie of the recent petting.

“If you truly don’t care, then why bother participating in this event at all?”

“I’ve already told you, it has nothing to do with you…”

Evidently displeased with Jack’s evasive response, Fanny was poised to press further, only to find his gaze shifting towards South Creek. He then spoke, his voice low and serious:

“I’ve already prepared the item. I made sure to consult Mr. Lister specifically on the writing style; he shouldn’t be able to detect any flaws. As for what comes next…”

“I understand. I haven’t forgotten.”

“……Come to think of it, I genuinely believed you would have told her by now.”

“Ah, I truly hadn’t intended to say anything, but it appears I have no choice now.”

“……”

Fanny’s eyes darted between the two, a bewildered expression clouding her features as she sank into an inexplicable silence. In mere moments, the conversation had inexplicably shifted to a topic entirely beyond her comprehension. More critically, had they not been bitter rivals, their eyes burning with animosity, just days before? How had such a sudden reconciliation come to pass?

“The reason I’m participating in this utterly tedious event is for entirely different motives; the prize itself holds little significance…”

Jack’s gaze snapped back to Fanny, and a distinct expression of disdain slowly crept across his face. He pointed a finger at her, his tone dripping with arrogance:

“Do not project your squalid thoughts onto me, you mud-wallowing wretch.”

“You—!”

Fury erupted within Fanny in an instant. Such an egregious insult left her seething. Her lips buzzed, poised to unleash a torrent of venomous words, but before she could articulate the most scathing retorts she had ever known, Jack had already turned and departed with decisive swiftness.

“You uncouth grunt-pig! You blue-crested beastkin!”

The girl’s furious curses reverberated through the air. To South Creek’s knowledge, these were considered quite potent insults in this world, where the art of swearing largely remained confined to likening individuals to wild beasts or common livestock, or, at most, delivering a caustic remark about their family lineage. Such invective paled in comparison to the “dimension-level” curses of her original world—the kind that “greeted” one’s ancestors eighteen generations back—which, as a diligent student, she had always refrained from uttering.

Yet, this was not the crux of the matter. What truly vexed South Creek was the inevitable confrontation that awaited her.

After sputtering a few more indignant curses at her retreating target, a faint flush of anger still lingered on Fanny’s cheeks. But before she could fully compose herself, she abruptly swiveled, directing her ire squarely at South Creek, who had stood by as a silent spectator.

“Heavens above! My dearest sister, what precisely transpired between you and that rogue? Have you betrayed the noble, unbreakable bond of our friendship, or was that unbreakability merely a figment of my unilateral conviction?”

“Please, calm yourself. I assure you, I have not betrayed you.”

“How can you deny it? You and he share some unspeakable secret, one you’re unwilling to divulge to me, despite the fact that we were his sworn enemies only days ago!”

“Alas…”

For a fleeting moment, South Creek felt an overwhelming urge to display an expression of utter despair. Heaven help her, she had merely intended to perform a commendable act, only to find herself cornered in this predicament. She was utterly at a loss as to how to appease the teary-eyed, enraged girl beside her with a satisfactory explanation.

“Allow me to explain: there is absolutely no relationship between him and me.”

Lifting the long-anticipated treasure, South Creek gazed intently into the bag. Within, she discovered an assortment of soft candies, crafted from Lulu grain, Rowling flowers, and various fruits. A radiant smile immediately bloomed on her face. South Creek briefly estimated the quantity; though it didn’t appear substantial, she realized that by consuming them sparingly, they could sustain her for nearly half a month.

“Ahem, in truth, he has a favor to ask of me. That insufferably arrogant fellow, don’t be deceived by his usual air of haughty disdain; it’s all because he has a pen pal.”

“A pen pal? What in the world is that?”

Evidently, a country girl raised in the rural expanse would not be acquainted with such a sophisticated term, and South Creek’s revelation left Fanny utterly bewildered.

“It’s someone you communicate with through letters, confiding in one another, despite never having met in person. His so-called pen pal, you see, is actually a wealthy young master from a grand city, who frequently regales him with tales of metropolitan life in their correspondence. That fellow’s notoriously foul temper, believe it or not, is entirely attributable to this very pen pal.”

“What… what connection could there possibly be?”

The more South Creek elaborated, the more bewildered Fanny appeared. Despite a slight stammer in her voice, South Creek resolutely pressed on, determined to complete her fabricated tale.

“Just consider it: a wealthy young master from a sprawling city is invariably an arrogant sort. By consistently interacting with such an individual, Jack must have come to believe that this demeanor is exceptionally dashing, prompting him to imitate it. That, my dear, is precisely why that fellow carries himself with such a conceited air every single day.”

“Ordinarily, when he sends his letters, he relies on the postman who regularly visits our village. However, as you’re aware, the Starfall Festival is upon us, and even the postman has returned home for the festivities. Consequently, he found himself without options and was forced to approach me.”

“You?”

As they walked together along the path back to the night market, the sky had already succumbed entirely to darkness. They could discern the road ahead only by the meager light, yet in the distance, the vibrant flames of the night market blazed brilliantly, serving as a beacon to guide their way.

“Well, you see, to send a letter now, the only way is to journey to the city’s designated postal station. Furthermore, his correspondence with this pen pal is a closely guarded secret, one he’s unwilling to share with any adult. Thus, he had no choice but to entrust me, the only person who knows the way into the city.”

“Into the city? You mean, actually go to the city? Heavens! I’ve never once had the chance to visit a city. Those who emerge from the metropolis are always so elegantly dressed. Could it be that you’ve been there?”

South Creek’s body stiffened, and the corners of her lips twitched involuntarily. She had, in fact, visited cities—more than one, even—but those were memories so ancient that only faint, blurry impressions remained. To be entirely truthful, it was almost as if she had never set foot in one. Nevertheless, intent on placating Fanny, South Creek resolved to continue embellishing her half-truth.

“If I hadn’t been, how else would I know the path to the city?”

It sounded perfectly logical, yet in truth, her knowledge of the road to the city stemmed purely from possessing a map. As for the map’s origin… that remained a closely guarded secret.

“Is that truly the case? It appears I have misjudged you.”

[She finally believes me.]

Internally, South Creek exhaled a lengthy sigh, then, with a profound sense of relief, wiped away a bead of sweat that wasn’t actually there. Yet, before she could resume admiring her spoils, another astonishing declaration reached her ears.

“Why don’t you take me along as well! I, too, wish to see the city!”