In palace intrigue dramas, there's often a plot like this, someone surreptitiously takes another person's hair to make a voodoo doll, and then all sorts of things happen.
Su Nanzhi looked at the two cloth wraps in her hand, this was indeed a skillful imitation.
"How old is your brother now?" Su Nanzhi turned to ask him.
Zhao Qingheng frowned, "He's not my brother."
He would not admit it, and neither would the Zhao Family.
"Oh, how old is the son your father has kept outside?" Su Nanzhi was very considerate, yet very coldly, she changed her phrasing and continued to ask him.
Zhao Qingheng: "..."
Of course, he had looked into it.
Only upon investigating did he find out that his father had been raising a son outside for twelve years.
It was somewhat laughable, but for a wealthy family, it wasn't exactly unusual.
Zhao Qingheng could accept this outcome.
The role of a father didn't seem essential to him; rather, it was an opportunity.
