Chapter 743 - 383: Hasting to the Funeral (Part 2)

Chapter 743: Chapter 383: Hasting to the Funeral (Part 2)

Huai Zi stepped forward, took Juhua’s arm, and said, "Let’s go. It’s no trouble. I’ll carry her later. If Pu Pao can’t keep up, Qingmu can carry her for a bit. It’ll just be a little more tiring for you, sister-in-law."

Liu Yunlan smiled nonchalantly. "I’m fine. What’s a little walking? I could even carry Hulu."

But Juhua called out to Pu Pao, "She’s underestimating us! Let’s hurry. I’ve never traveled far from home before. Walking and looking around on this mountain path isn’t boring at all. It would be even better if we’d come a little later in the year, when the grass and trees are green and the mountains are covered in blooming flowers..."

She was speaking excitedly when Huai Zi nudged her with his elbow. She immediately realized her mistake. ’We’re going to a funeral, not on a trip for fun.’ She felt a pang of shame.

This must be the difference, she thought. Juhua couldn’t feel the same sorrow as Zheng Changhe. For one, she only had respect for the Great-Aunt, not much intimacy, unlike the deep affection she felt for her maternal grandmother, Mrs. Wang. For another, they hadn’t reached their destination yet, so she couldn’t truly feel the somber atmosphere that came with death.

The group then fell silent and hurried on, only occasionally speaking in low voices. As Juhua walked through the wilderness, looking at the mountain fields and sparse villages on either side of the path, she was actually in a good mood. But she had never traveled such a long distance before, or perhaps it was because of her past surgery. After about two hours, her steps grew heavy. Pu Pao, on the other hand, was still running about playfully.

Huai Zi glanced down at her. Without a word, he walked ahead, squatted down, and hoisted her onto his back before striding forward.

Seeing this, Qingmu smiled faintly and asked Liu Yunlan softly, "Are you tired?"

Liu Yunlan shook her head. "Not at all. Look at Pu Pao, she’s still full of energy. I’m much stronger than she is. Pu Pao, if you get tired, don’t push yourself. Let Qingmu carry you, and I’ll carry Hulu."

Pu Pao had already run far ahead and shouted a reply from a distance.

Qingmu shook his head and chuckled. "She probably doesn’t get out much, so it’s all new and exciting for her right now. Once we get there, her legs will likely turn to jelly."

Resting on Huai Zi’s back, Juhua relaxed and immediately felt how limp her body was. She laughed and said, "It’s true. You don’t feel it while you’re walking, but the moment you relax, you collapse. Huai Zi, if you put me down after carrying me, I won’t be able to walk another step."

Huai Zi strode forward, smiling slightly. "Then I’ll carry you all the way to Great-Aunt’s place."

Juhua tugged his ear and whispered, "To Great-Aunt’s place? Do you even know where she is now? You’re talking nonsense!"

Huai Zi realized he had misspoken and turned to give her an apologetic smile.

No matter how pleasant the journey had been, the moment they arrived, they were enveloped in an atmosphere that was at once celebratory, solemn, and sorrowful. It sounded contradictory, but it was true.

The Great-Aunt’s village was situated on the slope of a small mountain. From the foot of the mountain, they could hear the high-pitched tune of a suona echoing through the hills, accompanied by the crisp clang of a gong. There wasn’t much grief in the sound; it had a feeling of deliverance and remembrance.

Once they entered the village, they wound past the clustered houses, following the music to the gate of a large courtyard. Inside, they could hear the chanting of Monks and faint sounds of crying. The courtyard was a sea of white—everyone was dressed in white mourning clothes, their expressions grave and solemn, showing neither mirth nor overt sorrow.

After Qingmu explained their purpose and identity to a man greeting guests, someone immediately brought them white linen mourning garments—they were just short capes worn over the head. The second generation wore plain white. For the grandchildren’s generation, a small patch of red cloth was sewn onto the front of the hood. For the great-grandchildren’s generation, a piece of green cloth was layered over the red, and a grass rope was tied around the waist.

Their group all received the mourning clothes with the red patch of cloth, except for Hulu, whose garment had an additional small patch of green cotton. Once they were properly attired, they were led into the mourning hall.

They passed through an outer hall into the inner hall, where a long, dark-red lacquered coffin came into view. In front of the coffin sat a large iron brazier filled with scattered, still-smoldering paper money. Smoke curled up from several earthen incense burners. The filial sons and grandsons knelt in rows on either side—and Zheng Changhe was among them. The sight, combined with the sounds of wailing, made goosebumps break out all over Juhua’s skin and the hair on her arms stand on end. Tears instantly streamed down her face.

All sorts of cries rose and fell throughout the mourning hall: soft whimpers, chanted laments, loud wails, and choked, silent sobs. At this point, the women’s tears were like a breached dam—unstoppable. Both Liu Yunlan and Juhua couldn’t help but start crying softly. Pu Pao cried even louder. If Grandma Liu had heard her, she would have probably smacked her on the forehead—she wasn’t dead yet!

Hulu, however, was looking around curiously. When he saw his mother and aunt crying, he grew flustered, quickly grabbing Liu Yunlan’s hand and calling out softly, "Mama!"