The Guide to Capturing a Black Lotus

120 (Extra 8: Forgotten Lover End)

Madam Xue's funeral was held in June. During that month, the eldest son of Marquis Qingyi died of a serious illness, his young daughter was lost and could not be found, and Marquis Qingyi, who had the perfect life, suddenly returned to being alone. To outsiders, they described him as pitiful.

At that time, the taoists of the Celestial Bureau  were arguing with the Buddist monks who had come to perform the ceremonies for helping the soul find peace. In the midst of the cacophony, he was kneeling alone in front of the funeral hall, white, snow-like paper strips falling over his shoulders.

He was still thinking about Madam Xue's last words.

——When you look at me, it's like you're looking at someone else.

"Marquis." The servant called him in a soft voice, holding a scented sachet with a voluminous tassel in his hands, looking a bit embarrassed: "I found this among the lady's belongings......"

He lowered his eyes, scanning over it. The palm-sized scented sachet was elaborately embroidered with a vivid, lifelike qilin made of silver thread.

This scented sachet was all too familiar to him, as his wet nurse had lost her sight embroidering it for him when he was five years old. Ever since then, he kept it close to his body until he accidentally lost it at the beginning of his marriage.

The whole family was mobilized to find it, but to no avail. He once knelt in front of his nanny's grave for the time it took to burn one stick of incense because of this.

"...." He took the incense bag, and the tassel swung through the air, making an arc.
-Why did Madam Xue need it?

The incense pouch was heavy in his hand, and when he opened it, there was a gold ingot and a pigeon egg-sized dragon's pearl inside.

There were also several thin papers rolled into tubes, which were originally the deed to a house and land, but after seven-eight years, the folded corners were worn and torn.

The wavering lights of the hearth lept across his face, and he pursed his lips.

It was the deed to a house and land under his name.

"Remember how this scented sachet was lost seven years ago? He looked back at the butler, his gaze cold.

Seven years ago, he fell off the horse, lost an important part of his memory, and started to have headaches. Madam Xue hid his personal scented pouch, and the "others" she mentioned, all of which were very strange,

"——How could this servant know?" The butler had a dodgy expression on his face.

The Zhao family was a powerful family, and the main wife had only given birth to a son and daughter. The son was ignorant and incompetent, so the daughter had to be dominant and aggressive, a common result.

Elder sister's reach had always been very far, like a sea animal with tentacles. Using the excuse of their family's glory, she had enclosed his world, and he had always known it.

He swept his gaze over the butler's anxious expression—— as if the only way to survive the oncoming wave was to play a fool.

"You've been with this Marquis for over ten years," he said. He lowered his eyelids, his tone very calm, "Do you think that even if I flee to the ends of the earth, I am still a puppet in the hands of Consort Zhao?"

In such a mourning hall, white streamers and coins fluttering, the sight of the always proud and untalkative Marquis Qingyi, who's wife was dead, and was left all alone, laughing at himself to a servant, was very unbearable to see.

As expected, this method worked very well. The butler stuttered for a while. Finally, sympathy prevailed. He knelt, red-eyed, with a thump, "......This servant dares not deceive the marquis......"