Since Ling Jiheng said so, Chi Xingyue naturally wouldn't force herself.
After diligently completing the logistical work, he wrote down the traditional Chinese characters fluently.
Another comment: "This is not good if you don't have a foundation. It's crooked and looks like a dog crawling. My Xingyue's writing is still better."
Chi Xingyue rolled her eyes: "I'll just take it as a compliment!"
Ling Jiheng chuckled: "Of course I'm praising you!"
Chi Xingyue knelt behind Ling Jiheng and reached out to rub his shoulders.
Occasionally, I would look out of curiosity.
Time passed little by little, and it was the 27th day of the twelfth lunar month.
With the help of Cao Dashan and several young men in the village, Old Man Cao finally made all the coffins.
Song Lizheng also asked a fortune teller to calculate a good time, and brought some strong people from the village to handle the funeral affairs of the victims.
To be honest, he felt quite guilty about the delay.
But the situation was special and there was nothing he could do.
I could only burn more paper money for them: "Dahe, Laodou, don't blame the villagers. We all have families to support, who dares to come out and confront the Beiliao people?
If Zhou's army had not arrived in time, our entire village would have had to go down to accompany you.
It's fate, and since you can't change it, just accept it.
From now on, the village will burn more paper money for you so that you won’t be thirsty or hungry in the underworld.
The few remaining adobe houses can be used to grow mushrooms in the village.
From now on, every Qingming Festival and Zhongyuan Festival, let the younger generations in the village burn paper for you, and you will also be able to have descendants."
As soon as he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew.
All the paper money thrown by Song Lizheng was blown up, circled in the sky for a few times, and fell into the fire again.
It's like I don't want to accept my fate, but I have to accept it.
Song Lizheng raised his hand to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes: "I took that gust of wind just now as your consent, ah!"
No one responded, and those who came to help felt bad.
Song Yuangen reminded him, "Dad, it's getting late. Let Uncle Dahe and the others rest in peace!"
Yes, I've been lying outside for nearly half a month. If it weren't so cold, I'm afraid it would have been eaten to pieces by insects.
He quickly asked everyone to drag the coffin up the mountain. The huge back view of the group was really spectacular.
It has been snowing for so long that the soil on the mountain has been frozen hard.
If I hadn't burned firewood in advance, I wouldn't have been able to dig it out at all.
Even so, it took the villagers a long time to dig a large pit that was more than one meter deep, more than two meters wide, and more than five meters long.
They reluctantly buried a few victims and then put up a wooden plaque next to them, and that was it.
The younger people in the village kowtowed to them, burned some paper money, and then went down the mountain.
They were silent all the way until they arrived at these "haunted houses". Song Lizheng arranged for everyone to clean up the houses.
“I know you don’t dare to live here, so like I said, clean it up and grow mushrooms.
Ask the villagers if anyone is willing to come and look after the mushrooms. The wages are 25 cents a day. The profits from the mushrooms will belong to everyone and be divided equally among each household.
"Uncle Lizheng, if we divide it by household, won't those with more people in their families suffer a loss?"
Song Lizheng waved his hands, too lazy to argue: "Why don't you say that the money is free? It's good enough to have it! That's it. If you don't want it, I won't give it to you!"
"No, I do, I do!"
This is how people are. When they are alive, there is hope. But when it’s gone, it’s really gone.
There will be no one thinking about you all the time, and all the sad emotions seem to be buried in the ground at the moment of burial.
The Ling family heard the noise outside, but did not go out to see.
If it was a happy occasion, they could still join in the fun, but if it was a funeral, they would just pretend they didn't know.
The main reason was that I wasn’t very familiar with those families, so I just let it go with a regret.
Chi Xingyue handed the first three chapters of "Human Anatomy" to Doctor Cheng, indicating that these were the notes of the Medical Saint.
Doctor Cheng looked at the "dragons and phoenixes dancing" characters on the rice paper, feeling so mixed up that he was speechless.
I thought the Second Young Master's wife was good in every way except her handwriting, which was really not as good as her!
Looking closely, I found that it was actually plain language.
His brows were tightly furrowed, not understanding why the Medical Saint did this.
What a waste of words!
Chi Xingyue kindly explained, "Maybe they were afraid that whoever picked it up wouldn't understand its value and would use it as a fuel for a fire."
Doctor Cheng nodded after hearing this, and actually felt that it made some sense.
If it weren't for the plain words written above, the Second Young Master's wife would have dared to throw it into the stove.
He nodded, put the rice paper away carefully, and planned to copy it again when he had time.
Chi Xingyue seemed to have guessed his thoughts and teased with a smile: "How about asking Ling Yi and the others to help and each copy a paragraph?"
Doctor Cheng rolled his eyes at Chi Xingyue, thinking that such a precious thing was not something that those rough guys could touch.
Although he is not young anymore, he has sharp eyes and ears and is strong and healthy. Just a few pages of handwritten notes are not a problem for him.
All I can say is that imagination is richer than reality. Dr. Cheng really didn't expect that this vernacular letter could be so thick.
He couldn't bear it after copying only two pages. He complained that his hands hurt and his eyes were blurry, and asked Ling Jiheng to find a solution for him.
What can Ling Jiheng do? Of course he can fleece his subordinates.
However, Ling Yi and the others were full of resistance. They would rather be exposed to the cold wind for two or three hours than hold a pen in the house for even a moment.
Helplessly, I could only outsource the copying work to Boss Liu’s study.
Anyway, there are often students from poor families who go there to take jobs. As long as they are paid enough, they can copy any book, no matter how thick it is.
Ling Jiheng is not short of money, so he naturally offers a high price.
For fear of tiring the other party, he asked Boss Liu to separate the work according to the rules and assign it to different scholars.
Boss Liu made a small profit by selling gold-powder couplets, so naturally no one would refuse.
According to Ling Jiheng's request, he distributed it to a few people he knew well, and in just three to five days, he received the handwritten copy with neat handwriting.
Then he bound it into a book and handed it to Doctor Cheng, thus completing the task he had assigned him.
Doctor Cheng touched the freshly printed medical sage's notes and couldn't let them go. He had no idea how much psychological impact the scholars who copied the book for him had suffered.
Of course, this is all later.
On the 27th day of the 12th lunar month, as the New Year was approaching, Song Lizheng came over and called Ling Jiheng to go fishing.
Winter fishing should have started early, but Qingshan Village has never stopped since the beginning of autumn.
Now that the last batch of mushrooms has been sold to the county, everyone finally has some free time. Every household can cook some food and prepare for the New Year with peace of mind.
But the villagers always felt that something was missing, so they came over to ask Song Lizheng: "How about we go fishing in the river while we have nothing to do?"
Song Lizheng thought about it, felt it was okay, and agreed.
"There's an area bordering Dahe Village and Shanghe Village. There's plenty of water, and the fish there are boneless and very delicious. If you want to go, leave early tomorrow morning."
Ling Jiheng nodded, asked about the tools he needed to bring, and then sent Song Lizheng away.
I told my family about this. The old lady, the old man, Shu Muyun and Ling Weicheng were all very moved.
Ling Jiheng waved his hand: "If that's the case, then let's go together!"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
