The Guide to Capturing a Black Lotus

117 (Extra 5)

Liu Fuyi and Mu Yao returned to Taicang three days later.

When they arrived travel-worn at the county mayor's residence, Ling Miaomiao was observing Mu Sheng in her room. She was observing so carefully that she didn't even hear the knock on the door.

At that time, Mu Sheng had his hair down. His eyes were lowered and he was quietly and meticulously polishing a vase, polishing it very attentively, with only the tips of his ears occasionally moving, like a sensitive little animal.

He finished polishing the vase, put it down gently, and went to polish the other things on the table. The places he polished were spotless, and a few rays of sunlight came through the window, orange in color, and fell on the back of the boy's pale hands, forming bright patches of light, one after another.

When he took one step, Ling Miaomiao followed a step, staring at him with unblinking eyes, suspecting that this man was the reincarnation of a sweeper robot.

After the sun came up, he looked like a faded colorful painting. The expression on his face gradually faded away, and he was back to his current appearance.

At first, Miaomiao thought he was pretending.

Only later did she find out that he truly was photophobic, like a nocturnal animal that wakes up briefly at night and then falls into a deep sleep after the sun comes up.

Ling Miaomiao also recalled, after Mu Huaijiang had used the forgetfulness spell on Mu Sheng, he was locked up alone in the darkness of Lotus Bloom Hall.

Even the windows were taped with black paper. It seemed to make some sense, but before she could understand how it worked, he had lost consciousness again.

As no one paid any attention to it for a long time, the knocking sound gradually became urgent. There was a bit of noise and snickering coming from the doorway.
"Coming, coming.....woah!" Ling Miaomiao opened the door swiftly, and was stunned into place.

There were two people in strange costumes standing at the door, with tassels and rings jingling on their bodies, animal furs sewn on their tunics with a bit of ethnic coloring, and fur collars covering half of their faces, swathed like Eskimos.

"Brother...... Liu?" Ling Miaomiao struggled to identify the mature man who was smiling at her. His skin was tanned and he had a dense beard.

Heavens, was this the white-clothed, confident and carefree, yet melancholy gentleman, Liu Fuyi, of the original story?

The man was even holding a baby girt with a round face. She was walking unsteadily, like a penguin, and after standing still, the little girl was leaning against his leg, raising her face and blowing saliva bubbles at Ling Miaomiao in boredom.

As soon as she turned her head, she saw a woman who was dress just as outrageously, her hair was not in a traditional bun, but in braids. Her smile was warm and gentle; her light-colored pupils reflected in the sunlight were like amber, and she was holding a small, cat-like baby in her arms.

"......Sister Mu?" Miaomiao froze as she looked at her.

"Shh." Liu Fuyi put up a finger. As soon as he opened his mouth, that familiar feeling came back. He was half amused and half chiding as he lowered his voice, "Don't be so loud, Er Bao is sleeping."

The second child was a boy, only four months old, a little more miserable than the snow silkworm. He didn't have a first name, instead, he had a nickname, Erbao.

Ling Miaomiao was accustomed to seeing the Daoist immortal couple who did not know the ordinary lives of the common people. In her memory, they would blush even when holding hands, but in the blink of an eye, they were like the mountain peasants, having children and spending their days. It truly was a novelty to behold.