Qin Yuhuan took a firm step towards his father's body and said, "I'm not afraid. That's my father."
When Qin Changping was in a good mood, he would give Qin Yuhuan 500 yuan on her birthday every year after his mother passed away, even though the birthday he remembered for Qin Yuhuan was always wrong.
From now on, no one will give her a birthday red envelope on the wrong day.
The zipper of the plastic bag was unzipped, and Qin Yuhuan saw his father, whose skin had been oxidized black, and tears almost shed instantly, "Dad..."
Before she could spend more time with her father, the staff had already hurriedly zipped up the body and were about to send him for cremation.
For the first time, Qin Yuhuan realized that the urn could be hot because the ashes inside were hot.
She held the urn in both hands and got into the funeral home's car with Ziyi.
The shrine has been set up, and the invited master took the urn and placed it on the altar.
Qin Yuhuan was called aside and told to follow her master to the village to pray for blessings.
The so-called blessing was the miscellaneous grains given by seven old men from other families, either a handful of black rice or a handful of beans. Qin Yuhuan put it in his coat pocket. After returning, the master put it into a small jar and placed it right below the urn.
My cousin set up a large pot not far away and began cooking. Qin Yuhuan started making phone calls non-stop, prefaced each call with, "I'm Qin Changping's daughter, Qin Yuhuan. My father has passed away. I'd like to invite you to have a simple meal tomorrow morning or at noon. The meal will start at 8:00 AM and end at 12:00 PM."
Qin Yuhuan didn't understand the local dialect, so every time she spoke, Qin Jiadong would translate it in Supu.
Ziyi watched Qin Yuhuan with a numb expression, listening to the instructions of his relatives like a puppet. By the end of the call, his voice was almost hoarse.
After finally finishing the call and getting a chance to catch her breath, Ziyi quickly opened a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Qin Yuhuan.
Qin Yuhuan breathed a sigh of relief. "We have to go up the mountain to choose a place later. Do you want to go, Xiaozi? Or you can just rest in the car? We have to keep vigil all night."
"I'll go." Ziyi held Qin Yuhuan's hand, "Are you tired?"
"Fortunately," Qin Yuhuan forced a smile. "While on the phone, I suddenly understood the significance of funerals. Amidst the constant hustle and bustle, they give those who have lost loved ones time to gradually accept reality. Every time I tell someone that my father has passed away, it's like rubbing salt into a wound. The more you rub it in, the less it hurts."
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