Chapter 328: Burning the Purse

Chapter 328: Chapter 328: Burning the Purse

In the Northern Pass, it was customary for descendants to visit their ancestral graves the day before a wedding to inform their ancestors and ask for their protection.

However, this was a custom for the men; daughters were not required to participate.

But Ji Huan’s situation was different. She was both the head of the household and was marrying a man into her family, so there was no reason she couldn’t follow the male customs.

Besides, she was the only descendant Ji Lianbai and Mrs. Wei had left. For such a major life event, it would be inexcusable not to inform them.

The courtyard had been bustling with people coming and going for the past two days, so a bit of commotion was unavoidable. Dabao had been staying in the west room, but with Ji Mingfang keeping him company and his newfound fascination with paper cutting, Ji Huan wasn’t worried. She picked up a basket and went alone to the burial hill to the southwest.

Standing before the bare burial mounds of Ji Lianbai and Mrs. Wei, Ji Huan was speechless for a long time.

’What was there to say? There was nothing to say.’

’The marriage was a sham, and even she, their daughter, was a fake.’

Poking at the pile of burning paper money with a branch, Ji Huan felt a little unsettled.

When she had visited the graves before the New Year, she’d considered moving the couple’s graves come spring. But when Widow Xie found out, she urged her to reconsider.

According to local beliefs, only those who had committed grave mistakes or heinous crimes in life were moved from their ancestral burial grounds. Besides, several years had already passed. A sudden move would only disturb the peace of the deceased.

Although Ji Huan didn’t believe in such things, she didn’t want to needlessly stir up gossip about Ji Lianbai and Mrs. Wei. Thus, the matter of moving the graves was set aside.

’As long as I sweep their graves and pay respects during the holidays, I won’t have let them down.’

This was the only thing she could do for them.

’No, maybe there is something else I can do for them...’

Before leaving, Ji Huan took a slight detour to burn some paper money for Dabao’s grandfather, though doing so outside of a holiday was a bit strange.

By the time she returned home from the burial hill, the sun had already set.

A long altar table had been set up at the entrance of the main hall, laid out with offerings like fruits and pastries. On the floor before it sat a cattail cushion.

After honoring the ancestors, the household spirits also had to be appeased.

Ji Huan knelt and kowtowed six times as she had been instructed, then offered three sticks of incense. Only then was the ritual complete.

By this time, most of the chores in the courtyard were done. Since everyone had to be up early the next day, no one stayed for dinner, and they all headed home.

Ji Huan entered the east room and discovered the mat on the *kang* bed had been replaced with a red one. It was laid upside down, with dried fruits scattered around its edges.

The bed had also been prepared. Aunt Wang and Aunt Gao had made it; as they both had living parents and were blessed with both sons and daughters, they were the perfect choice for the task.

Widow Xie hadn’t rushed off. She painstakingly went over the next day’s procedures and etiquette again and again, explaining things like how to kowtow, how to perform the ceremonial bows, and which auspicious phrases to say.

Ji Huan wanted to tell her not to be so fussy, but she had already said it until she was blue in the face, and no one ever listened. This was especially true for Widow Xie, who was determined to give her a "grand wedding."

Feeling guilty that her decision had caused everyone to work themselves to exhaustion, Ji Huan was exceptionally cooperative, doing exactly as Widow Xie instructed.

Widow Xie had her demonstrate everything two more times before she was finally at ease.

"And, and that other thing..."

The moment Ji Huan saw the sudden awkwardness in her expression, she knew what Widow Xie was about to bring up.

She wasn’t embarrassed, just feeling guilty, because none of it would be necessary.

"Um, Aunt Xie, you don’t have to say it. I know..."

"You know?" Widow Xie looked startled, but then a thought seemed to strike her. "Did your mother teach you during her final days? Sigh. She couldn’t rest easy about you, even at the very end. Before she passed, she took my hand and asked me to... Well, since you already know, I won’t drone on."

A sudden bitterness welled up in Ji Huan’s heart.

Such is the heart of a parent. Even as she lay dying, Mrs. Wei had worried about what would become of her only daughter, and the only person she could entrust her to was Widow Xie.

"This is a happy occasion, so don’t dwell on it. Your mother would be overjoyed to know that you’ve grown up and are starting your own family."

Widow Xie offered a few words of comfort, then asked if Ji Huan wanted to invite someone for the "bed-warming" ritual.

Traditionally, on the day before the wedding procession, the bride’s family would send people to the groom’s home to help prepare the house. The groom’s family was responsible for the furniture, like the bed, tables, and chairs, while the bride’s family provided items like the bedding and curtains.

After preparing the bridal chamber, gifts would be presented for a "room-warming," and the relatives from the bride’s side would stand guard inside. No outsiders were allowed to enter before the bride.

There were, however, two exceptions: the groom himself, and the young boy chosen by the groom’s family for the bed-warming ritual.

The explanations for this bed-warming custom varied from place to place.

Some said the bride’s bed possessed a spiritual energy, and sleeping in it could cure a hundred ailments.

Others claimed that having a four- or five-year-old boy perform the ritual symbolized the bride giving birth soon after marriage and being blessed with many children.

In any case, it was all for good luck.

"But you’re the one who prepared everything, and you’re not moving. He’s the one coming to live here. So if a bed is to be warmed, it should be this one..."

Widow Xie seemed troubled. Finding a young boy would be easy enough, but how exactly would they perform the ritual?

Having Guan Shan come over early was against the rules. But having Ji Huan in there with a young boy or two seemed just as improper.

Ji Huan found the idea rather creepy herself, and she didn’t feel it was necessary at all.

"Let’s just skip it, Aunt Xie."

Widow Xie sighed. "Alright then. I made some pickled vegetable congee; it’s in the pot. Dabao has already eaten. You should hurry and have a bowl, then get to bed early."

Ji Huan nodded, and Widow Xie finally took her leave.

Not long after Widow Xie left, Hu Ximei arrived.

Ever since Hu Dacheng started attending the village school and Widow Xie began working at the workshop, she could no longer run over whenever she pleased.

Fortunately, she was no longer the same little girl who got bogged down in her own thoughts.

She had goals now. While at home looking after Granny Xie, Xiao’an, and Hua, she practiced the characters Ji Huan had taught her and kept up with her embroidery. When Widow Xie went home to cook lunch, she would run over to ask questions and learn something new. Her days were actually quite fulfilling.

Today, however, she didn’t look very happy.

Hu Ximei was indeed unhappy. Even now, she couldn’t understand why Sister Wan was marrying that vagrant.

Others might not know, but she did.

’Sister Wan clearly liked Brother Song, and Brother Song liked her so much, too. Why did things end up this way?’

"Everyone is saying... they’re saying that because Brother... because Song Jing married someone else, you just found a random person to marry out of spite. Is that true?"

Ji Huan froze for a moment. Then she smiled and said, "That’s not it at all. Don’t listen to their nonsense."

Hu Ximei didn’t believe her.

It wasn’t as if she had never seen the vagrant before. It was precisely because she *had* seen him that she felt Sister Wan was doing herself a great injustice by marrying him.

’But the only reason Sister Wan would settle like this had to be because of Song Jing.’

"And I actually thought he was a good person! Turns out he’s just like all those other scoundrels!"

The smile on Ji Huan’s face faltered for a moment.

After a moment of thought, she said, "Just because two people can’t be together, it doesn’t necessarily mean one has wronged the other. Don’t speak ill of Song Jing. He’s a good man. It’s just... things aren’t easy for him."

But Hu Ximei wasn’t convinced. She had also noticed that Ji Huan had gotten much thinner.

’It must be because she’s so heartbroken. People lose weight when they’re sad.’

Her eyes began to redden as she looked at Ji Huan. "How is he a good man? He’s not good at all! He broke your heart, he humiliated you! He’s just a jerk!"

Ji Huan gently tugged her braid. "You’re still too young. You’ll understand when you’re older. Every adult has their own silent struggles. You can’t always get what you want in life."

"But Sister Wan, do you really like that Guan Shan?"

Ji Huan nodded solemnly. "Of course I do! Don’t assume he’s a bad person just because he looks intimidating. You have to look past appearances to see a person’s true character, understand?"

Evidently, at her age, Hu Ximei was still unable to grasp such a profound principle.

And so, filled with deep worry, she left, looking back every few steps.

Before she left, she pressed a handkerchief and an exquisite sachet into Ji Huan’s hands.

"That silly girl... so thoughtful. This embroidery is much better than mine..." Ji Huan murmured, but her voice trailed off.

Ji Huan went into the east room, opened the wardrobe, and from a sewing basket on the bottom shelf, she retrieved the half-finished sachet she had sewn herself.

At the time, she had been stubborn and, to save face, had deliberately told Hu Ximei that it didn’t need to be ornate; plain and simple was perfectly fine.

She had later thought about it: other people’s sachets were embroidered with plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, and chrysanthemums, or with flowers, birds, insects, and fish. If Song Jing’s was the only one that was completely bare, it would be a little...

After that, she set aside time every day to practice her embroidery, planning to make a new, better one for him. But she never expected...

Now that her beloved was a married man, there was no longer any reason for this clumsy sachet to exist.

Ji Huan gave it one last look, her hand suddenly clenching around it. She stood and went to the kitchen.

Embers still glowed in the stove. She tossed the sachet in, and it caught fire in the blink of an eye.

Ji Huan stared at the small flame as it flared, then dimmed, until the very last flicker of light went out.