Son,
It has been more than a year since you left home, and from morning to night my thoughts are with you. I sleep poorly, I eat without appetite. Though the daylilies still bloom in the hall, the cassia in the courtyard stands quiet; whenever I think of your face, there seems to be a little more frost at my temples. Your father often takes up a book and sighs, saying that your diligence at study and the lively image of you at play still seem to linger before his eyes. Whenever he speaks of it, he falls silent for a long while.
If you can possibly spare the time, do come home for a visit. Though nephews and nieces fill the household, it is still our deepest regret that you remain so far away, beyond clouds and mountains. You have always been slight of build and easily affected by heat and cold. Your studies may be demanding, but your health is the root of all else. Do not imitate those of old who burned the midnight oil at the expense of their natural strength. Take proper rest, be moderate in food and drink, and do not leave me worrying over you.
There is another matter I wish especially to ask you about. I have heard that the Inkbound Order is considering a move to Jiangnan. My first reaction was joy, but the more I thought on it, the more uneasy I became. Tell me truthfully, my son: does this idea truly come from your own heart, or are the elders around you forcing your hand? If it is indeed your wish not to remain in the North, but to return to the South, then I will do all I can to persuade your father and make sure you are not left with no good way forward.
If it comes to pass, then home will be within sight, and we may have you near us again from morning to night. Every day I prepare food for the younger ones in the clan, yet my heart finds no comfort. It is not the food itself that matters, only that I miss you so deeply I cannot help myself.
We miss you and long for your return. Come home soon.
Letter