When Zhang Qiling loses his memories, the Zhang family attempt to whitewash Wu Xie from his world. Only the box he instructed they give him as a precaution was never checked for compartments and some of the pictures hidden inside, lead to certain c...
🙃 A little early Christmas gift of Pingxie....Its been a long difficult year, and this season is always busy, so I thought some romance might be a fun distractions. :) You are such a dear friend and such a beautiful person. :)
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The box looked innocuous.
It was highly decorated, red lacquered with a motif inside of golden chrysanthemums flowers and decently painted birds. It was not an expensive antique and possibly only sixty to eighty years old, the edges of the rim worn a little. A chip in the bottom right corner.
It sat like boulder in the middle of a river and the man who stared at it, wondered why, if the former version of himself had known he was going to lose his memories, he hadn't provided more information. More detail, to fill the void that he had woken up with.
It had been explained that the injury he had received had been poisoned. The resulting fever saved his life as his blood dealt with it, but the price was a memory reset. Why he had been injured was never mentioned.
So many things, carefully skirted around or not said.
Zhang Qiling stared at the box and then at the meager contents that was supposed to encompass his entire life. A few documents, an abruptly written letter discussing his duty and several relevant points that was apparently enough for him to continue on in this world. A journal or manual, that explained the Zhang family, their role and his position. It explained his blood and tattoo that only appeared when one of the Zhang people poured warm water down his bare shoulder.
Two showers later and he was still mesmerized by how it appeared, gradually bleeding into existence.
Beside it on the coffee table, was an antique high quality saber. This blade felt more familiar to him than anything else he had encountered so far. He felt attachment to it and his body during all of the tests they had performed so far, had moved fluidly and with lethal grace.
At this point, he had absorbed very little of what he had been told. The details churning into a mass of similar and vaguely familiar information.
He was apparently their Patriarch, the head of their clan and the oldest surviving member of his generation
He had been born in Tibet. And he had no one beyond the Zhang.
His purpose and function was to protect their secrets and the world.
His profession was grave robbing.
He owned a sword, which had been handed to him yesterday.
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The Zhang family who had introduced themselves when he had awoken in this room, his mind and memory blank except for childhood recollections that placed a few faces in the small group, he had spoken with earlier. Instinctively, he didn't trust any of them and felt nothing....affectionate towards them. They were strangers and every interaction seemed constrained or tense, hidden by deceiving smiles he disliked or cold expressions that mirrored his own.
