On the day of the funeral, those who weep the loudest, as if crying to the heavens, are often not the dutiful children who have cared for the deceased for years.
Instead, it is those who have daily attended to them, who find it hard to shed tears at the funeral.
Time and emotional energy are limited resources; like anything that can be labeled with “value,” they can be spent and eventually exhausted.
At this moment, Yin Meng smiled—not a forced smile, but one of relief and gratitude.
Her grandfather was now trapped in a coffin, while she felt confined in the funeral parlor.
Both of them were suffering in their own ways, but now, they had finally been freed from their torments.
She felt grateful that she had held on to the end, showing no impatience or sadness.
Day after day, she had maintained a bright and positive attitude while tending to her grandfather, changing his diapers and speaking to him at the edge of the coffin.
She knew this was what she should do, for he had raised her.
There were moments when a wave of numbness and disgust would wash over her, making her feel sick with herself, leading to criticism and self-education.
She was terrified she wouldn’t be able to hold on; she didn’t want to show a side of herself that wasn’t in line with being a “good granddaughter,” even for an instant.
But now, she felt victorious.
She had won the battle within herself and could face whatever came next without regret.
Tan Wenbin stepped forward with a smile and said, “The old man has passed peacefully; this is a celebration of his life.”
Runsheng added, “Let us prepare for the funeral.”
The arrangements were simple; there were no outside guests.
Yin Meng didn’t need to wrap herself in black or kneel while inviting people.
On either side of the shop sign hung two white lanterns, and at the entrance was a wreath bearing three names.
The elegiac couplet was written by Li Zhuiyuan, who had the best brush calligraphy among them.
The shop had an old sound system that now played somber tunes outside.
However, being in Fengdu and the eerie Ghost Street, even with these arrangements, passersby wouldn’t think a person had died; they would instinctively believe it was merely a festive decoration.
For a while, more curious customers filtered into the shop than usual.
After dressing her grandfather in his burial clothes, Yin Meng donned her mourning attire and sat cross-legged before the coffin.
Tan Wenbin and Runsheng sat across from her, burning joss paper.
As the ashes swirled, the air grew stuffy in the room.
Outside, it began to rain.
Li Zhuiyuan closed the family genealogy and moved a small stool to sit by the door.
The rain brought a fresh scent, but it also dampened the outdoor activity.
Runsheng inquired, “How long will the body be kept, and what do you have planned for the arrangements?”
“I want to bury my grandfather tonight,” Yin Meng answered.
Runsheng cautioned, “That’s not how it’s usually done.”
Unless the situation is chaotic or urgent, one rarely hears of a body being buried on the same day as death, but Yin Meng responded, “I don’t care about rules anymore.”
Tan Wenbin quickly chimed in, “Those who filial during life have the confidence; there is no need to pretend.”
Runsheng asked, “Shall I take you to the family tomb? Where is your ancestral resting place?”
Yin Meng shook her head, “We don’t have one. My family tradition is water burial.”
Runsheng asked, “Which body of water?”
Again, she shook her head, “I don’t know. My grandfather never went into detail about these things when he was alive.”
Li Zhuiyuan, sitting facing away from everyone at the doorway, said, “Jiu Guai River.”
Yin Meng looked at him curiously, “Xiaoyuan, how did you know that?”
“It’s written in your family genealogy,” he replied.
“Written? I’ve seen the genealogy, but I don’t remember this.”
“It’s in the notes at the back. One of your ancestors from the Ming Dynasty detailed the burial process for his father, and it was very thorough.”
“Oh, that explains it. I couldn’t get through all those notes; there were far too many, and the writing is hard to read.”
Li Zhuiyuan commented, “Your grandfather indeed wasn’t careful enough.”
Despite being of a considerable age, he had not told his granddaughter about these matters.
Of course, it could also be that the old man no longer cared for such customs, especially since he had borrowed the genealogy without a second thought.
His only remaining family tied to him was a granddaughter; with his poor health, he must have prepared for the family legacy to be severed long ago—otherwise, he wouldn’t have neglected to teach Yin Meng the ways of the family.
“Then, will you help me arrange for my grandfather's burial, Xiaoyuan?” she asked.
“I’m older than you, call me brother,” Runsheng replied.
Tan Wenbin grinned playfully, “Xiaoyuan brother, what would you like for lunch? I’ll go buy it.”
Yin Meng got up and went to crouch beside Li Zhuiyuan, saying earnestly, “Xiaoyuan brother, please help me.”
Li Zhuiyuan nodded.
Yin Meng let out a sigh of relief and then called to Tan Wenbin, “Go to Aunt Wang’s stewed dishes shop; I want pig’s trotter.”
Tan Wenbin opened the umbrella and walked into the rain.
Not long after, he returned with a large bag of food.
There was no alcohol, but delicious meat and vegetables.
The four of them sat in a circle, pulling the plastic bag open and laid it on the ground.
The rice had come from home, and Runsheng had cooked it, not wanting Yin Meng to take part.
A big pot of rice was placed before them; Li Zhuiyuan and Yin Meng received half a bowl each, while the rest was given to Runsheng and Tan Wenbin.
While eating, Tan Wenbin asked, “What are your plans now? Do you intend to continue running this coffin shop?”
Yin Meng paused from gnawing on the pig's trotter and glanced stealthily at Li Zhuiyuan, whispering, “I’m already calling you brother.”
“What do you mean?” Tan Wenbin didn’t catch on immediately.
Runsheng replied, “She’s relying on us.”
Yin Meng nudged Runsheng with her foot.
Tan Wenbin raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What do you mean? Do you want to come with us? It’s quite far from here to Nantong.”
Yin Meng shrugged casually, “I have no family left. One person’s filled stomach is enough; I can go anywhere. I also don’t have much of a social circle; just you three.”
Tan Wenbin looked troubled. “But we already have one more at Li’s household eating for free.”
Yin Meng said, “I can help out! I can cook or anything else.”
Runsheng merely listened, and Tan Wenbin found himself silent as well.
Li Zhuiyuan then spoke up, “After you come home with us, you don’t have to do anything at all, but please don’t let your hands itch and start cooking.”
Even Tan Wenbin, with his iron stomach, couldn’t take it, fearing that if Yin Meng made a meal at home, it would send both him and the old man away.
“Did you agree?” Yin Meng asked excitedly, “Then I’ll go with you to Nantong.”
“Okay,” he replied.
Old man, your granddaughter is far brighter than you think.
After the meal, the sound system continued to play mournful music outside while everyone sat in the hall before the coffin, playing cards.
Initially, they played a four-player game of Dou Di Zhu, but after a while, the three of them tacitly left Li Zhuiyuan out and began a three-player game.
By the afternoon, they finally parted ways.
There were things that needed attending to in the shop.
Those handmade items weren’t worth much, and giving them away was fine.
What truly had value in the shop were the coffins.
The old man had sold one, leaving four behind.
Fortunately, coffins were currently a hot commodity.
Every family had older members.
Before they passed, everyone would prepare their own burial caskets.
To sell them quickly, Yin Meng directly slashed the price in half, and four coffins were sold in no time, receiving cash payments.
Runsheng and Tan Wenbin took carts to deliver the four coffins to the clients.
They didn’t even leave Ghost Street before other merchants bought them.
They weren’t worried about the coffins being displayed outside affecting business; here, it was as common as putting out a money-catching cat.
Yin Meng sat there counting the money. “It’s a good thing I haven’t paid next month’s rent yet. Whatever’s left in the house, I’ll leave for the landlord.”
Runsheng tossed down the leftover cooked dishes from lunch and began to prepare a big pot of mix porridge.
After a satisfying meal, night fell completely.
Yin Fuhai’s coffin was loaded onto the cart.
Runsheng was in front pushing, Tan Wenbin followed behind, Yin Meng walked beside the cart, while Li Zhuiyuan sat on the coffin lid, holding an umbrella.
It wasn’t that the boys were slacking off; the road to burial was difficult, and Li Zhuiyuan needed to sit high and look far to map the path.
They were burying at night, again in Ghost Street.
If they stumbled about carelessly, who knew what could happen.
Tomorrow they had to return, and Li Zhuiyuan did not want any unexpected events tonight.
They left the street, passed the county, and after crossing the village, the coffin arrived at the riverbank safe and sound.
Ahead was the Jiu Guai River, also known as the Nine Dragon Turn, named for its winding, twisting path.
After passing this section, the river continued straight on to merge with the Yangtze River.
From a feng shui perspective, this place holds promise and strength, waiting to flourish.
To have a water burial here symbolizes cleansing the deceased of the dust of their life, washing away all consequences.
Upon seeing the actual site, Li Zhuiyuan felt a little odd.
Logically, this was not a suitable position for a water burial.
In the eyes of normal people, the deceased should find rest, but here, it felt more like a light journey onward.
If this spot were designated for newborn blessings and coming-of-age rites, it would indeed be more fitting.
Tan Wenbin set up the offering table on the riverbank.
Li Zhuiyuan looked at Yin Meng and asked, “Do you know how to recite an elegy?”
Yin Meng spread her hands, she was already used to this kind of response today: “No, I don’t understand.”
Li Zhuiyuan suddenly felt a little wronged, as he was essentially acting as a caretaker for the old man.
Yet, this task wasn’t part of the deal.
He stepped forward to the offering table, gesturing for Yin Meng to kneel beside him with the incense stick.
“Alright,” she agreed.
Yin Meng obediently lit the incense and knelt down, holding the stick high above her head.
Li Zhuiyuan signaled to Runsheng, who then pushed the coffin into the water.
However, the coffin did not drift away with the flow; it remained lodged at the riverbank.
Li Zhuiyuan used a candle to light the yellow paper, waving it as he scattered the burning paper into the air, dropping some on the ground and throwing some into the river.
Using the flickering firelight, Li Zhuiyuan held the offering table, lowered his eyes slightly, and swayed gently as he recited the elegy.
The first half extolled and praised Yin Changsheng, the so-called Emperor of Fengdu.
Li Zhuiyuan recited this part completely from memory; it needed no revision.
However, in the second half, he had to recount the man’s life story, which couldn’t be copied verbatim but should be tailored to the specifics of the deceased.
The old man truly didn’t have much worth boasting about.
He hadn’t expanded or nurtured the family line; rather, he had brought it to the brink of extinction.
Had it not been for the one-eyed old witch who prematurely took a life, he would have carried the burden of his family’s annihilation, and no matter what grievances he had, the heavens would not concern themselves with that.
Since there was little to praise in his life, the only thing Li Zhuiyuan could highlight was that he was “careful and dutiful.”
In order to fill the content of the elegy, Li Zhuiyuan elaborated on this point from multiple perspectives and angles repeatedly.
Once he felt it was sufficient, he prepared to conclude, which was the most critical moment.
He took a deep breath, then leaned forward slightly, entering a semi-state of trance; his voice no longer was just a presence in this world but extended into an invisible “realm.”
“Li Zhuiyuan, on behalf of the dutiful granddaughter Yin Meng, prostrates to the great Emperor of Fengdu, securing the yellow springs, calming the underworld’s officials, and opening the gates of Yama. Receive Yin Fuhai, descendant of the Yin clan, return to Fengdu, step into the afterlife, and enter bliss.”
Li Zhuiyuan craned his neck back, concluding his trance, then looked at Yin Meng beside him and said, “Bow.”
Yin Meng quickly bowed her head in reverence over the river.
With the ceremony complete, a chilling, eerie wind swept over the riverbank, one that even an ordinary person could feel.
In the next moment, the coffin, which seemed to still cling to the earthly realm, finally broke away from the riverbank and drifted deeper into the water.
Tan Wenbin watched closely and seemed to notice something; he covered his mouth to suppress a scream while forcefully hitting Runsheng’s arm with a fist.
Runsheng understood his meaning too; he also saw four shadows emerge beneath the surface of the water, under the coffin.
The shadows solidified and became four ghostly forms, grimly rising to carry the coffin on their shoulders as they navigated the river.
Runsheng inhaled sharply, noticing a strong scent of damp decay in the air.
It appeared as though the four figures carrying the coffin were those who had perished.
Li Zhuiyuan was mesmerized by the scene; he grasped more about it than Runsheng.
These four lifting the coffin must have been the corpses of those who drowned in these waters years past.
They hadn’t been washed away by currents but had remained buried in the silt at the river’s bottom.
Now, they had all “resurrected,” seemingly summoned to perform the task of carrying the coffin.
This further validated Li Zhuiyuan’s earlier speculation: this Fengdu ghost city holds unique secrets.
At the same time, it indirectly confirmed another guess—Yin Changsheng consumed corpse pills to “achieve immortality,” meaning this “immortality” was likely the opposite of its literal meaning.
As for the peers Yin Changsheng claimed to have seen after achieving immortality—they are probably not ethereal beings but rather fearsome specters of death.
Whether they had exchanged thoughts in private or if one day he might get the chance to connect with them—those were more unknowns in the depths of his mind.
The sound of a crow’s cackle rang in the air.
Though dawn was still distant, a sharp crowing of a rooster echoed from unknown origins nearby.
The sun hadn’t yet been called forth, but above them a peculiar red hue began to spill across the clouds, casting an ominous and oppressive shadow over the riverbank and the water’s surface.
This phenomenon was fleeting, quick enough to make one think it was merely an illusion.
Then, the once “drifting away” coffin that still lingered in sight vanished completely.
Tan Wenbin repeatedly hopped on Runsheng’s shoulder trying to make sense of what had just occurred. “Hey, how did it suddenly disappear? Did it sink?”
Runsheng replied, “It was taken away.”
Li Zhuiyuan gripped the offering table, sweat pouring down his forehead as he took deep breaths.
Yin Meng got up from the ground, worriedly asking, “Xiaoyuan... brother, are you alright?”
She felt guilty, thinking the boy might be exhausted from handling the funeral for her sake.
But the truth was, after learning the twelve techniques of the Yin family, he was no longer as prone to bloody noses as before.
What he felt now was intense fear.
Just moments ago, even if it was a fleeting moment, he had managed to instantaneously traverse and catch a glance at what lay ahead.
The thought quickly surged, revealing a vast sense of impending danger.
It felt as though if he did that, he might witness true horrors.
After all these years, the Yin family had passed, yet they could still summon the “Four Ghosts Carrying the Coffin,” implying that the logic governing this occurrence hadn’t decayed yet.
Could it mean that Yin Changsheng, the Emperor of Fengdu... he was still around?
With eyes closed, he struggled to swallow.
When he reopened them, his breathing calmed.
Turning to face the direction of Fengdu Ghost Street, the surprise in his eyes shifted to a hint of excitement.
How wonderful, you remain.
This world is becoming increasingly fascinating!
The boy felt assured because he believed that even when he grew up, he wouldn’t be bored.
Packing their things, the four returned to the coffin shop in Ghost Street.
After clearing out the stock, the shop felt empty, forcing everyone to make do with a floor-sleeping arrangement for the night.
They even found themselves missing the coffins.
The next morning, they boarded the boat at the Ghost Street dock with their respective luggage.
No need to go back to Wanzhou; they were headed straight for the mountain city.
Yin Meng stood at the bow of the boat, observing as the river was continuously parted beneath her feet.
At the stern, Li Zhuiyuan lingered a bit, feeling reluctant to part with this place.
It was like a fine cuisine, with just a taste leaving one wanting more while also harboring high expectations.
Though he knew it was tantamount to courting danger, he believed that when the time was right, he would return to this ghost city to delve into its core mysteries.
As the dock faded behind them, the streets receded, and the mountains grew distant, yet the future drew ever closer.
Once back in the mountain city, Li Zhuiyuan called Xue Liangliang.
Xue Liangliang informed the boy that the restoration work on the bamboo slips would take quite some time.
Once he finished his current project and returned to Jinling, he would bring the restored slips personally to Nantong.
Not wishing to linger in the mountain city, the four made their way to the train station and bought tickets for their trip home.
However, without Xue Liangliang’s connections this time, they only managed to secure hard sleeper tickets for a compartment of six, and none of them were at the bottom bunk.
Even though Li Zhuiyuan was still young, lying on the hard bunk felt cramped.
The other three were worse off; they could only lie down, having no room to sit, making it unbearably uncomfortable.
Thus, aside from sleeping at night, the three of them preferred to stay in the aisle and move about.
Tan Wenbin especially cautioned Yin Meng several times not to share food or drink on the train, nor to engage too closely with strangers.
The last encounter with the little girl in red had left a deep scar, and they truly didn’t want to face treachery again.
By the time the train reached Nantong, it was well past midnight.
Few taxis and illegal cabs outside the station would pick them up after hearing they needed to go to the countryside.
With no other options, Tan Wenbin used a payphone to call Tan Yunlong.
The four waited on the roadside for some time until a pickup truck filled with the strong smell of seafood stopped in front of them.
Tan Yunlong tossed his cigarette butt out of the window and urged, “Hurry up and get in! I need to return this truck; someone needs it in the morning for supplies.”
By the time the truck reached Siyuan Village, daybreak had arrived.
As the vehicle stopped, Tan Yunlong glanced at his son and asked, “Come home with me; your mother misses you.”
“It’s alright, I’ll go back tomorrow. Let my mother enjoy one more day of looking forward to our reunion,” Tan Wenbin replied.
Not waiting for his father to retort, he was already the first to jump out of the car.
While the others were still gathering their belongings, he waved his arms and ran towards home excitedly, shouting as he went:
“Grandpa Li, Grandpa Li!”
From the courtyard came the teasing voice of Li Sanjiang, pretending to not know, “Who is it so early in the morning?”
“It’s Zhuangzhuang! Zhuangzhuang is back!”
(End of Chapter)