Chapter 327 I Suspected That This Was My Revenge
Seeing her eyes curved into crescents from her smile, Tu Subo whispered in her ear while no one was paying attention: "It's empty now, but you can't say for sure what it will be like in the future." A muffled laugh rolled out of his throat: "Maybe it won't be enough to live in."
Gu Yuexuan's ears suddenly burned, and she was about to twist his arm when a half-grown child suddenly jumped out from the alley. Tu Suminyang's shoes scraped against the blue bricks and he stopped, shouting in his truncated voice, "Brother and sister-in-law! Grandfather wants you to go home quickly!"
The young man, who was in his early teens, ran so hard that beads of sweat kept dripping into his collar. His throat felt like it was on fire, but he swallowed back the important words that were on the tip of his tongue - his grandfather had told him that no matter how serious the matter was, he should not shout it in the street.
Tu Subo and Gu Yuexuan's eyes met, and there was a tacit understanding of the dark clouds in each other's eyes. Gu Yuexuan dug her nails into her palms, her voice trembling: "Could it be that the old lady..."
The old lady, who was on the verge of death, did not survive the summer solstice.
The newly painted carved door still smelled of tung oil. The auspicious date for the family's move had been chosen, but the old lady had passed away at that moment. When Gu Yuexuan stepped through the second gate, her skirt lifted, the courtyard was packed with people.
Even Tu Suye, who had been missing for over six months, had reappeared. This playboy had gained weight, his silk shirt gleaming with gold buttons, yet he huddled in the southwest corner like a quail. His fat, lumpy face was as black as the bottom of a pot, and he snorted at the sight of anyone entering.
Xi Lanfang grabbed the breathless Gu Yuexuan, and Tu Su Yanting hurriedly handed her some chilled mint water. "The old man is staying inside with us, and no one is allowed in." Xi Lanfang pointed towards the east wing, "Let's wait, a little while..."
The second half of the sentence faded with a sigh. If the old lady passed away, the funeral would be very grand.
Just as Gu Yuexuan took the tea bowl, Li Shi pulled her to the bench and said, "Although we are not as grand as the Marquis' Mansion now, we must be polite and courteous. There are so many eyes on our family outside!"
The edge of the bowl clanged against the wooden table. Li lowered her voice and said, "The coffin and shroud are ready, and the linen has been dyed long ago. But the old lady passed away with great difficulty, and my knees must have been sore from kneeling during the days of vigil." She glanced towards the east room and said, "According to the village rules, the funeral should be held after three days, but if we follow the old rules of our ancestors' mansion..."
The last word lingered in his throat, turning into a wry smile: "It's possible to stop for 49 days. It all depends on what the old man decides."
The autumn harvest had already been stored in the warehouse, and the county shops were back on track. Gu Yuexuan stared at the white banners swaying on the window lattice and thought, thank goodness these important matters have been taken care of, otherwise I would have to be distracted at this moment - the newly painted grain cart wheels would have been tangled in the mourning cloth.
The scent of mugwort and sandalwood wafted through the mourning hall, but the number of people crying could be counted on one hand. Tu Suting squatted beside the coffin, burning paper money, feeling no pain even when sparks splashed on the back of his hand. After all, she was his mother, but she had been treated so harshly over the years that her filial piety had been worn to pieces.
Tu Suye, huddled against the wall, was a sight to behold. Tu Suting's teeth clattered as he tossed paper money into the brazier. "Second brother, you're really agile this time. I've delivered messages to the gambling house eight times before, but why did you take them so seriously this time?"
"Do you think I'm deaf?!" The voice suddenly became higher, startling the sparrows under the eaves and making them fly around.
Tu Suye turned his head and stared at the tip of his shoes: "I said I can't leave..."
"Bullshit!" Tu Suting jumped up and was about to grab his collar, "You can walk away after picking up dominoes at the gambling table? You can walk away after hugging a prostitute in a wine alley? You can't walk away when your own mother is about to die?"
Li slammed the lid of the teapot, sending shards of porcelain flying onto the surface of Tu Suye's satin boots. "Why waste time talking to this black-hearted bastard?" She grabbed her husband's arm. "Do you really want to start a fight and let the spit of those watching the joke drown us?"
Tu Subo quietly stepped between the two men, a hemp rope holding the mourning cloth half visible from his sleeve. "Uncle San, there's a clerk from the Wang family rice shop standing outside the ancestral hall." He pointed his thumb toward the courtyard gate. "If you want to teach my brother a lesson, at least wait until the gate is locked at night."
In the mourning hall, the sandalwood incense suddenly erupted in smoke, wrapped in paper ashes, rising straight to the rafters. Gu Yuexuan stared at the flickering eternal lamp, listening to the intermittent clamor outside, her nails scratching crescent marks on the bench—this wasn't a funeral; it was clearly a spectacle.
The old lady's throat made a hoarse sound like a broken bellows, her loose eyelids remained open, and her eyes were staring straight at the silver-haired old man in front of the bed.
The old man brushed off the corner of his robe and sat down. "We've been husband and wife for half a lifetime, and you poisoned me first." He tapped the edge of the bed with his bony fingers. "Now you're lying here, and you suspect I'm taking revenge?"
The dry claws had dug grooves in the brocade quilt.
"I've checked the medicine jars for you eight hundred times." The old man suddenly laughed out loud, shaking the tassels of the bed curtains. "From the prescription to the medicinal ingredients, is there anything that you don't check three times?"
Veins bulged on the old lady's neck, and her cloudy eyes were covered with bloodshot.
"But you don't dare drink it." The old man leaned over to hold down the flying corner of the quilt. "Seeing the medicine bowl is like seeing the Black and White Impermanence. I want to throw it eight feet away." His finger, like a dry branch, pointed at her sunken temple. "The root of the disease is here."
A crow cawing under the eaves startled the old lady so much that she convulsed all over. The old man slowly stroked his white beard and said, "Last December, when you were coughing up blood, if you had been willing to drink two bowls of ginseng soup..." The last words were drowned out by the sound of firecrackers outside the window - there happened to be a wedding in the village.
"You're trapped in your own web." The old man suddenly glanced at the crack in the carved door, "Don't look at it anymore. Do you think the second brother who hurts your eyeballs hasn't come?" Before he finished speaking, a sharp scream suddenly burst out of the old lady's throat.
"That evil creature is quite clever." The old man took out a piece of candy and stuffed it into her mouth. "The truth about poisoning his own father was revealed, and when he saw that your backer was about to fall, he ran away faster than a wild rabbit in the field."
The old lady's throat gurgled, and malt sugar mixed with blood foam dripped from the corners of her mouth.
"When the Marquis' Mansion was in its heyday, you stuffed seventeen concubines' daughters into the ancestral hall for posthumous marriages." The old man suddenly picked up the handkerchief soaking in the copper basin and slapped it in her face. "Now even your own son thinks you are unlucky."
The wet handkerchief slipped off, revealing a distorted ghost face.
As the old man leaned over, his silver hair brushed across her gray face. "Don't worry, you can go. The coffin is made of golden nanmu—" His withered hand suddenly grasped her twitching wrist, "It's a hundred times better than the thin coffin you prepared for me back then."
The sound of a clapper pierced the dead silence, and the old lady's eyes suddenly bulged. The old man shook off the withered claw and stood up, straightening his clothes in front of the bronze mirror: "Remember to drink Meng Po's soup on the road to the underworld, in your next life..."
Before he could finish his words, a muffled sound came from behind the bed curtains.
The old man stood with his hands folded as he watched the old lady struggling for life in bed for three months, her flesh falling off like dry bones. He felt neither hatred nor joy in his heart - they had become strangers eight hundred years ago.
The bed curtains were suddenly blown away by the wind, and the old lady's eyes suddenly widened. Her dry lips trembled as she tried to speak. The old man clamped her chin and stuffed a red pill into her throat: "Swallow it, and save yourself the pain."
The old woman's claw-like hands scratched at her throat, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. The moment the red pill gurgled into her stomach, the withered skeleton suddenly convulsed violently, and with a snap, its spine straightened.
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