Julian caught his breath, the question hitting him like a physical blow. He had completely forgotten that Evelyn was at the post office yesterday; he’d forgotten she had stood right there at the counter, asking the clerk if anything had arrived in her name.

The realization settled in his gut like lead. They hadn't just lost their own survival gear; they had lost hers. The embarrassment was suffocating—the frantic guilt of a man caught red-handed in a crime of negligence.

Evelyn’s eyes, cold and analytical, searched his face. She didn't miss the flicker of panic. "Is it a difficult question? Either you saw it, or you didn't."

Julian forced a cough, trying to reclaim some shred of authority. "Was it from your parents? What was in it?"

A faint, mocking smile touched Evelyn’s lips. "I had someone in Jiangcheng buy me a winter quilt and a padded jacket. Essentials."

Julian stiffened. He had assumed her parents had sent her a care package, but to hear she’d arranged it herself shifted the dynamic. It implied a resourcefulness he hadn't credited her with.

"Who did you ask?" Julian’s suspicion flared. He couldn't recall her having friends with that kind of reach—getting quality cotton took influence. "Who is this person?"

"Who I deal with is none of your business," she countered, her voice dropping an octave. "I asked if you saw the parcel. Why do you look like a man with a guilty conscience?"

He was guilty. The weight of the theft was already crushing, but the thought of telling her that her only protection against the coming frost had vanished under his watch was unbearable.

"No... I didn't see anything." The lie tumbled out before he could stop it, a reflex born of cowardice.

Evelyn’s expression turned to stone. The corner of her mouth quirked into a sharp, derisive arc. "Fine. I’ll go and ask the clerk myself this afternoon."

Julian’s blood ran cold. The tension in his nerves snapped tight, his entire body locking up as he watched her walk away. He had intended to eventually give her a set of supplies as a peace offering, but now he had effectively robbed her.

As he sat on the oxcart heading toward town, he was gnawed by a frantic, buzzing anxiety. It was a pathetic lie—transparent and easily broken. The post office kept a ledger; all she had to do was look at the signature to see who had claimed her mail. The thought of her looking at him with that quiet, lethal contempt made it hard to draw a full breath.

Once in town, the pressure became a physical weight. Julian had originally planned to scour the black market, but the cost of outfitting four people was astronomical. He had no choice. He had to swallow his pride and beg his cousin for help—at least enough to replace Evelyn’s things. If he could hand her the parcel before she went to the post office, perhaps she wouldn't have a reason to be angry.

Adrian was in a meeting when Julian arrived. When his secretary mentioned a visitor was waiting, Adrian’s stern features softened for a moment, thinking it might be Evelyn.

When he stepped into the office and saw Julian instead, the air in the room seemed to chill.

"Cousin..." Julian stood up, looking small.

"Mm." Adrian glanced at him, then frowned. He hadn't seen Julian since the frantic days of the wheat harvest. Back then, Julian had been exhausted, but now he looked hollowed out—sunken eyes, sallow skin, and a frame so gaunt he looked like a ghost of his former self.

Adrian arched an eyebrow. "What happened to you?"

Julian dropped his head, his shoulders slumping. He hadn't wanted to come here like a beggar. During the harvest, when he was working like a dog, he’d stubbornly refused to ask for a handout. But he was at the end of his rope. He knew Adrian had told the family to stop subsidizing him, but if help didn't come now, he feared the winter would simply bury him.

"My mother sent a parcel," Julian began, his face flushing.

Adrian watched him, unmoved. A simple parcel wouldn't have brought Julian here to face his judgment.

"But... it was stolen yesterday. Just after we picked it up."

Adrian’s brow furrowed. "Did you report it to the police?"

Julian nodded quickly. "Everything is gone. My things, and the Wards' gear too."

"And why are you here?" Adrian asked directly.

Julian took a breath, forcing the words out. "Do you have any spare quilts? Anything for the winter? I need to replace Evelyn’s parcel first."

Adrian’s gaze sharpened into a blade. "Evelyn didn't ask you to pick up her mail, did she? You took it upon yourself."

The silence that followed was Julian's confession. His face was a mask of humiliated crimson.

"Cousin... please. I'll figure out the rest, but I have to make it right with her."

Adrian felt a flicker of profound disappointment. They had both come to the same countryside, yet Julian hadn't managed half the resilience of a young woman. Every time Barrett came to town, he sang Evelyn’s praises—how she was clever, capable, and had earned the respect of the villagers. Julian had thrown away a woman like that for... what?

Ultimately, Adrian sighed and relented. He went to his storage and brought out a set of winter gear he had already set aside specifically for Evelyn.

"Thank you, Adrian!" Julian’s eyes grew misty with relief. His confidence, brittle as it was, began to reform. He was Adrian’s only cousin, after all. Surely, this meant he still mattered.

Adrian watched him leave, shaking his head. If anyone from the family saw Julian in this state, they’d haul him back to the city in a heartbeat. He decided not to mention the secret subsidies Julian's mother had been sending; with a head like Julian’s, even a fortune wouldn't stay in his pockets for long.

With the heavy bundle in tow, Julian felt his spirit revive. He no longer had to fear the scorn in Evelyn’s eyes. He stopped by the hospital to collect Serafina for the trip back to the village.

When he told her that Adrian had given them a full set of winter supplies, her eyes lit up with predatory greed. Anything from Adrian would be the best quality—the kind of luxury she craved.

"This should be enough for Evelyn," Julian murmured, not noticing the flash of resentment on Serafina's face.

"For Evelyn?" Serafina echoed, her voice thinning. "You're giving all of this... to her?"