The Guide to Capturing a Black Lotus

119 (Extra 7: Forgotten Lover)

Note: This is the story of Marquis Qingyi (Mu Shengs father)

The last time he saw Madam Xue, she was panting on the bed, her neck crooked. She was horribly thin, her cheekbones bulging like two peaks, tugging at her dry mouth.

She stared at him with her bulging eyes, and looked like she wanted to say something to him. Just as her mouth began to move, tears suddenly came rolling down, wetting the silk cover of her jade headrest1.

He held her cold hand. The heat in her hand had begun to dissipate and her nails were pointed, like some kind of animal scales.

He remembered these hands. At the time of their wedding, the young bride had lifted the bridal veil by herself; her heavily made-up face had an uneasy look on it; the tips of her fingers were like peeled scallions2

"Marquis......" Her teeth lightly touched her lower lip, and her tears flowed silently as her words faded with her breathlessness.

"Yes." He replied, and slowly explained, "Yi'er, has already woken up."

He had a premonition that Madam Xue would not survive the day, so his tone was particularly soft.

He had lied. Up until now, she had given birth to a son and a daughter, one near death and the other lost. But as she was reaching the end of her life, it was more suitable for her to hear some good news.

But she shook her head, as if this was not what she wanted to hear. Now for her, even choking with sobs had become especially difficult. He hesitated, then put his ear to her lips and listened to her final words.

"Marquis......"

A warm puff of air sprayed on his earlobe only to dissipate soon after.

Her voice was thin, broken, and seemed to contain an infinite amount of confusion and resignation: "When you look at me...... it's like you're looking at someone else."

As if someone had taken a needle and iabbed it into his heart, he looked up abruptly. But the spark had already left her unfocused eyes, and her undried tears were still shining brightly.

The room fell into a dead silence.

They had been husband and wife for seven years, and they had respected each other like a family, but in the end she had only left him with such an absurd sentence.

He was now a new widower, but he was not as heartbroken as he had expected. He just felt a wave of fatigue and coldness that flooded his body like a tidal wave.

He sat motionlessly on the edge of the bed, the sunlight shining on his lightly stubbled jaw, outlining the smooth lines of a careful painter's work, thick and thin, just right.

The door creaked open and the butler's voice was cautious, as if he had seen his disoriented appearance and did not know how to interrupt out: "Marquis......"

"Out." His back was to the door, interrupting him in a flat tone.

To others, his back seemed melancholy, as if frozen by grief.

But only he knew that it was in confusion.

His slender hand pressed hard against the place above his heart. The young man's heart was still beating powerfully—— why was that?

The passing of his wife before him could not compare to the meeting of the strange demonic creature just a few days ago at Anding Gate. The moment those dark eyes met his, it felt like a sharp sword was thrust through his heart and lungs. The pain, so sharp, like the moment one wakes up from a dream. At that time, the two demon-catchers' words were absolutely ridiculous: "This is your flesh and blood......"