"I cry, I cry through seven passes, I've cried all the way to the seventeenth pass, the first one is the Pass of Longing for Home~ Grandpa looks back at his homeland~"
"Grandpa lies in the coffin, and I kneel on the ground beside him, to spare him from suffering and disaster. I cry for Grandpa for seven years."
"..."
Jiang Lixuan looked at the small figure kneeling and wailing in the mourning team with a look of existential doubt. He couldn't help but raise his hand and wave to Zheng Feiyu, who had just finished kowtowing and was getting up from the ground.
"Zheng Feiyu, the mourning team your family hired isn't very professional. They're exploiting child labor!"
"Child labor? Where did this child labor come from?" Zheng Feiyu looked in the direction Jiang Lixuan pointed, completely bewildered. He immediately saw the little figure kneeling on the ground, imitating the old lady next to him, wailing loudly.
And beside him, he heard her innocent, clear wailing: "Holding a stick of incense, the smoke rises to the heavens, New Year's paper hangs on the front door, white banners hang on the second door, Grandpa is going to heaven!"
Zheng Feiyu: "!!!"
No! When did a little girl sneak into this mourning group?!
Isn't this just causing trouble?!
Before Zheng Feiyu could even call her "Mom," a sharp voice rang out: "Yuanman! Who gave you permission to come here! Get out of here!"
The next second, a short, stout figure nimbly squeezed into the mourning group, reaching out his large, fat hand to lift the little girl off the ground.
Yuanman rolled nimbly on the ground, dodging the woman's outstretched hand. Tears still lingered on her tender and adorable face as she chattered, "Oh dear! Aunt Zheng, isn't it because Old Man Zheng died? I'm here to attend his funeral in my grandfather's place!"
"If you think I'm too young, then I don't need the money for my funeral; just let me have a meal."
Aunt Zheng's lips twitched, and she gritted her teeth: "Who invited you to come and wail at a funeral!"
She turned around, grabbed a few steamed buns from the table beside her, and shoved them into her arms with a displeased look: "There's no rice, only steamed buns! Take it or leave it!"
Yuanman didn't mind at all. She hugged the steamed bun to her chest with a smile, sniffling, and said to her, "Thank you, Aunt Zheng. In consideration of the food you gave me, I'll give you a piece of advice."
"If you don't want to die, you'd better leave here quickly."
Her round, watery eyes swept around the mourning hall, her gaze finally settling on the corpse laid out in the main hall.
In her sight, a blood-stained female ghost was lying on Old Master Zheng's corpse, the ghost tightly locking Old Master Zheng's neck.
"Seven days from now will be the day of her revenge. At that time, none of you Zheng family members who used her 'money' will survive."
As if hearing Yuanman's words, the blood-clad female ghost slowly raised her head, revealing a pale face with a large gash on her head. She warned her in a sinister tone, "Don't—meddle—in—other people's business."
Fully puffing out her small chest, Aunt Zheng had been kind to her with a meal, and a single word of advice from her wasn't considered a favor!
Aunt Zheng: "..."
Aunt Zheng took a deep breath, turned around and looked around: "You brat, talking nonsense again! I'll teach you a lesson for your grandfather! Husband! Where's my broom!"
Perfection: "!!!"
She turned around decisively, grabbed the steamed bun, and scurried away on her short legs.
Those short legs moved around like bicycle wheels, which was particularly funny and comical.
Zheng Feiyu watched the little girl's nimble figure disappear with curiosity, then leaned closer to Aunt Zheng and asked, "Auntie, who is that child?"
Aunt Zheng's anger softened slightly when she saw Zheng Feiyu: "It's Feiyu."
Mentioning Nan Yuanman, Aunt Zheng's face turned speechless: "Who else could it be? The child adopted by Old Man Nan at the village entrance."
"That old man Nan was unreliable when he was young, and now the kids he's raised are just like him! They're lawless!"
Finally, she couldn't help but lower her voice and say, "Feiyu, don't go hang out with her. I heard she was born from a coffin, which is very unlucky. Be careful not to pass on your bad luck!"
After muttering bad things about Nan Yuanman, Aunt Zheng's face showed a trace of sadness: "It's just a pity about your grandfather. He worked hard all his life, and before he could even enjoy his good days, he was sent off with a cup of wine. It's fortunate that you came and saw him off on his way."
"He can finally rest easy now."
Upon hearing this, Zheng Feiyu's mood became heavy. He looked at the smiling old man in the black and white portrait with a touch of sadness, and his eyes welled up with tears.
Because of his family's business, Zheng Feiyu rarely saw his grandfather. He came back for the funeral this time with Jiang Lixuan, the fifth son of the Jiang family.
Jiang Lixuan came to Batang Village to find a relative.
Oh, right, relatives...
Zheng Feiyu suppressed the heat in his eyes and turned to find Jiang Lixuan: "Brother Xuan, what does the relative you're looking for look like? Do you have a photo? My aunt can help me find her; she lives in the village and knows everyone there!"
Jiang Lixuan had just pulled his gaze away from the disappearing little figure when he heard this. He frowned, his handsome face full of rejection: "I don't have any photos of her..."
Before he could finish speaking, Jiang Lixuan remembered something, took out his phone, and pulled out a photo from his album: "I don't have hers, but I have her mother's. Do you think that's okay?"
As he spoke, he handed the photo to Aunt Zheng.
Aunt Zheng craned her neck to look. In the photo was a very thin and pretty little girl. She was wearing a floral cotton-padded jacket, had two braids, and looked very nervous as she stared at the camera.
"This face... ugh, isn't that what that brat Yuanman looks like when he grows up??"
...
On the other side.
At the entrance of Batang Village stands a dilapidated tile-roofed house.
A small, dusty figure wearing a patched gray shirt came bounding over, carrying a white steamed bun.
She stood at the door, looked around, and only when she saw no one did she push open the dilapidated wooden door with a relieved air, calling out in her childish voice, "Grandpa, I'm back from begging for food! There are white flour buns for us today!"
The room was silent; no one answered.
Nan Yuanman didn't care that she didn't get a response. She took the steamed bun to the stove and carefully put it into a large bowl with a chip next to the stove.
She sniffed the aroma of wheat in the air, and couldn't help but suck her fingers, savoring the lingering aroma of steamed bun between her fingers.
She only managed to get three steamed buns from begging today. If she eats them sparingly, they can last her three days. But with her grandfather's help, they can only last her two days.
I'll have to go out begging for food later.
I wonder if Aunt Zheng will still give me some food if I go to mourn her again.
While thinking, Nan Yuanman carefully and preciously broke a small half of the steamed bun and put it into her own special little bowl. She then opened the iron pot, scooped out a large bowl of warm water, and ate her fill of water mixed with the steamed bun.
Then, clutching the remaining half of the steamed bun, he trotted off to the living room with his short legs.
There were no electrical wires or light bulbs inside the tiled house, making it extremely dark. Small, square coffins were placed in every corner, while a large coffin stood in the very center of the living room, creating an eerie and sinister atmosphere.
Nan Yuanman had already gotten used to the darkness here. She walked skillfully to the table where the memorial tablets were placed and lit the candles.
He turned around and knocked on the coffin: "Grandpa, get up and eat."
"grandfather?"
The coffin was silent. Nan Yuanman frowned slightly, put the steamed bun on the table, and prepared to move a small stool to stand up and lift the coffin lid.
Suddenly, a strange man's voice came from outside: "Is this the place?"
Is anyone home?
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