He Xianjin's expression was too ferocious.
The lips that were once tempting with petals turned into the souls of monsters that eat people.
The originally narrow and upturned eyes turned into a sword of evil spirits to claim lives.
Cold-faced and cruel-hearted.
These four words flashed through Chen Silang's mind and he shuddered unconsciously.
"Did you hear that clearly?"
He Xianjin exerted force with his fingers, and saw four more palm prints on Chen Silang's face.
Chen Silang nodded hurriedly.
He Xianjin loosened his hands, put his hands behind his back, and secretly moved his slightly trembling joints.
Chen Silang gritted his teeth and looked for cool water, groaning and shaking his hands.
He Xianjin mentally matched it with a BGM from a certain app in his previous life that was extremely popular.
"Baifu! Baifu! Water! Cold water! Find me some water!"
In this situation, Chen Silang no longer cared about the subwoofer.
Outside the funeral hall, the only sounds were the cries of high school students in their voice change period.
He Xianjin didn't even want to give any glances and walked into the mourning hall with his hands behind his back.
After a long while, the screaming sounds outside the corridor finally disappeared.
Mrs. Zhang, who was hiding behind the white banner and seeing all of this, was picking up the savings box in her hands and shaking all over.
What did she see!?
When she saw He Xianjin, the burden, she poured a bowl of boiling wax on Silang!
That oil is so hot!
It solidifies when it gets cold!
It feels like there is a layer of hot rice crust that can’t be shaken off!
The back of Shiro's right hand is as red as a shrimp shell!
This... this is the master... and the third wife's favorite youngest son... and the right hand for writing and reading...
Mrs. Zhang was shaking, and the money-saving box in her hand was knocking.
He Xianjin's eyes swept over.
Mrs. Zhang's knees went weak and she almost fell to the ground.
"Jin...Jin Jie'er..."
He Xianjin nodded gently, "You're going to give my mother a four-color collection box?"
Mrs. Zhang nodded hurriedly, "Yes, yes, yes! It's been a day, it's time to change the offering box!"
He Xianjin smiled and said, "Thank you, Aunt Zhang, for loving me."
Mrs. Zhang fled backwards, waving her hands repeatedly, "No, no! It's my job!"
When she was about to escape, Mrs. Zhang gritted her teeth, half turned sideways, and poked her head out, saying, "Jin Jie'er, you should have informed the Third Master in advance about what happened just now. If you give in and cry a little, the Third Master will fall for it... Don't wait until the Third Madam comes to question you, because by then it will be too late!"
He Xianjin raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Mrs. Zhang quickly added, "We watched you grow up, too. When you were a kid, I even washed the wet sheets for you!"
…..
Oh, it turns out that this friendship was forged over a wet sheet.
He Xianjin looked away and said nothing.
The silence made Mrs. Zhang break out in a cold sweat.
"He won't make it public."
When Mrs. Zhang thought He Xianjin would not speak, He Xianjin broke the silence with a soft voice, "The master in the front yard was setting up the spirit, and he sneaked into the women's residence in the backyard. If the head of the family finds out, he will suffer the consequences."
Then he changed the subject, "However, I will definitely need to clean up the odds and ends. If you really love me, please help me buy ten sheets of jute paper and some ink."
Jute paper is the cheapest.
As he said this, He Xianjin stuffed half a pound of silver into Zhang Po's pocket.
The Chen family has everything, so how could they not have paper?
You can go to any concierge and ask for a few pieces of paper.
This half dollar is purely a gift to her.
Mrs. Zhang rubbed her hands and didn't take the copper coins. "Can I ask you for money? Your mother just died. It's not easy to do anything. Keep some money for yourself."
He Xianjin thought for a moment and then said, "Do we have a good pen to write with? The kind with a hard nib?"
This major is not suitable.
This pen business belongs to the Wang family next door.
Mrs. Zhang shook her head.
He Xianjin had seen bamboo pens in the Gansu Museum in his previous life, but he couldn’t remember which dynasty they were unearthed from, so he guessed that now was not the right time.
"Then could you please help me find a small piece of bamboo tip, I can use it."
Mrs. Zhang wanted to ask what the use was, but thinking of Chen Silang's hand that was burned red like a shrimp shell, she quickly shut up and just said "good".
In less than a moment, Mrs. Zhang came back with the things.
Things like combat power are sometimes simple and useful.
When everyone left, the entire mourning hall was so quiet that even the burning candles could be heard making tangible sounds.
No matter how bustling and bustling the place is during the day, after the face and feelings are over, everything will return to dust, and the two will go their separate ways and have no connection anymore.
In her previous life, she was on a hospital bed and her goal was to stay alive.
So what now?
In this absurd era where a man is praised for spending a month's money to buy a woman a coffin-stabilizing jade, in this weird era where "I am the master and you are the servant, and you don't even have a chance to burn incense", in this bullshit era where "you should beg the Third Master and take your own affairs into his hands while he is soft-hearted".
What is her goal?
Her life, her values, and her future are all determined by others.
But no one can decide what is in her mind.
He Xianjin knelt in front of the coffin, with flames flickering in his eyes.
The candles in the mourning hall remained lit all night.
At daybreak, the funeral procession arrived, followed closely by Mr. Chen San, looking distraught.
Before carrying the coffin, He Xianjin kowtowed three times towards it earnestly.
From then on, she lived with the lives of three people.
Mr. Chen Sanye insisted that the funeral procession pass through the Chen family's main gate in a dignified manner.
The second gate of the inner courtyard firmly blocked the love-minded man who was nearly forty years old.
The leader of the funeral procession gave Mr. Chen San an idea.
"Let's go around and find our way through the Tongxin Lake on the veranda. I know a small gate that is always unattended. We can also get to the front yard from there."
He Xianjin glanced at the person who was speaking.
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