Sitting in the carriage, Mrs. Tang held the Duan Inkstone that Old Master favored most in his lifetime, tracing the bamboo patterns with her thumb, recalling the scene of Old Master dipping his brush in ink to write documents while she clung to his arm playfully.
Tears blurred her vision at some unknown point.
Even though she had resolved not to help the Wenyuan Bo Mansion, seeing these things and thinking about Old Master filled her with guilt.
She clutched the Duan Inkstone tightly, sobbing uncontrollably.
Marquis Dongxiang rode ahead on horseback.
He turned several times to look at the carriage, sighing repeatedly in his heart.
Mrs. Jiang was with Mrs. Tang, but she did not sit in the carriage, walking outside instead.
In the distance, a woman stood with a boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old in a corner.
Upon seeing Mrs. Jiang, the woman quickly walked forward.
After a few steps, she found the boy still standing there and hurried back to grab him.
