Chapter 176: Mourning Hall
Handling funeral arrangements is an exhausting task.
It is very draining.
Time is draining.
Emotions are also draining.
At the very least, the body must lie in state for a few days, and a good date must be chosen for burial to ensure peace after death.
If it is a youth who has died prematurely, there are even more particulars to observe.
The Jiang Family still hired the masters from Qingyuan Temple to perform a Dharma Ritual.
These masters used to never leave the mountains; nobles would come to them to offer incense and pay handsomely. If they were to leave the mountains to perform a Dharma Ritual, it was an exclusive service for nobles, and it was incredibly expensive.
However, ever since the Rebels arrived and Jiang the Second took power, he had no reverence for them at all; the first thing he did was make them pay taxes.
The Buddha actually had to pay taxes.
If they didn’t pay taxes, he would bring a group of people to train in front of the temple every day.
It scared all the worshippers away.
So now, they accept even cheap jobs; after all, even the Buddha needs to eat.
Every bite and every sip has its own cycle of karma.
If the monks still charged their old rates, the Jiang Family certainly wouldn’t be able to afford to hire them for a Dharma Ritual now. However, because they have to pay taxes and make a living, they have lowered their prices, so the Jiang Family can still afford them.
In fact, seeing these chubby monks, Jiang Wan couldn’t help but wonder if she could ask them to return some of the incense money she and Old Madam had previously donated—half of it, no, even a third would do.
With that much money, even a tenth would be enough to live very well right now.
Jiang Wan, who had never suffered before, found it truly unbelievable when she looked back; how could she and Old Madam have donated so much incense money to a silent Buddha—enough for an ordinary person to live on for several lifetimes?
Of course, asking the Buddha for a refund was just a thought; Jiang Wan wasn’t about to make a fool of herself.
The big monks sang and danced.
Their ornate robes even had patches on them, showing that their days were not as good as before.
Jiang Rong lay there stiffly.
Old Madam Jiang also lay there stiffly.
Her injuries had almost healed; her recovery could be considered quite fast. This was thanks to her daily regimen of maintaining her health and paying attention to small details, so her resilience was comparable to that of a young person.
But to suddenly suffer such a calamity, she was struck down and couldn’t get up.
Jiang Rong was her legitimate grandson.
Her only legitimate grandson.
This time, when Heir Han came to Ming County, she heard people outside saying that the two sons in Heir Han’s estate were not his at all; he was raising sons for someone else.
Such shocking news had even reached Ming County; where there is smoke, there is fire.
So the more impossible it seemed, the more likely it was to be true.
If that were truly the case, then she only had Ronger as a legitimate grandson.
The sound of the wooden fish, tapping continuously, made one feel distracted and anxious.
Old Madam Jiang lay there, her heart aching, her whole body in pain.
Jiang Huaisheng felt somewhat numb and bewildered; he had simply drunk too much, and upon waking, Jinger had run away, Shushu was missing, and Ronger was dead.
He kept a dazed vigil in the mourning hall; for an older person to bury a younger one was such a catastrophe.
At this moment, he suddenly felt a bit relieved that Jinger had left; if she were here, she would surely be very sad.
He told Wan to go rest for a while; he would keep Ronger company.
After someone passes away, one worries that their soul might be lost, so a relative must always stay by their side.
Jiang Huaisheng sat numbly in the mourning hall, listening to the big monk’s wooden fish, and he actually fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes, he was still in the mourning hall.
But it was much more sloppily arranged.
There were no big monks performing the Dharma Ritual, and the coffin in front of him was a thin one; although it was colorful, it looked of mediocre quality.
It was not as good as the one he had chosen for Ronger.
Who had stolen and replaced the coffin? This was too much.
He stood up and walked forward, only to find that the person lying inside was not Ronger, but actually Jiang Feng.
He just wanted to laugh out loud; although it was his nephew, at this moment, he was actually just happy and relieved.
It wasn’t Ronger; Ronger hadn’t died; it was Jiang Feng who had died.
He looked up and suddenly saw a madman rush in front of him, wanting to hack him to death.
He was startled, but fortunately, he had guards; it took four strong guards to stop that person.
It was actually a woman.
It was his sister-in-law, acting like a madwoman, roaring and howling, demanding his life in exchange.
It was difficult for four people to hold her; she completely disregarded the boundaries between men and women, her clothes were torn in the struggle, yet she was still there roaring like a wild beast.
He saw his brother, dressed in shabby and tattered clothes, step forward to hold the woman, shouting, “Sister Xia, Sister Xia.”
She then slowly calmed down.
Jiang Huaisheng took his guards and left the mourning hall; it was too desolate and terrifying.
He felt as if Jiang Feng in that thin coffin had consciousness and was looking at him.
He left, but he still felt someone staring at his back.
He turned around and saw his brother leaning against the coffin, holding the beast-like woman, looking at himself.
The white curtains fluttered, occasionally obscuring his blood-red eyes.
He felt as if he had a fishbone stuck in his throat, terrified; upon returning home, he begged his mother to go to the capital together.
Finally, having left Ming County, he breathed a sigh of relief.
The carriage swayed, and he fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes, he was still in the mourning hall.
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