Ashes Joke
On the day of Xin Xuan's funeral, it snowed lightly in the mountains.
The snow on the road had just melted, and the sewage had soaked everyone's trouser legs, making their steps increasingly heavy.
The person walking at the front carrying the urn was Xin Xuan's nephew, and the person holding the photo was her niece who appeared out of nowhere. Xin Xuan had no children of her own and there was no record of her being close to any relatives.
Now, as they face death, they've all surged forward.
It's clear they're eyeing Xin Xuan's meager retirement savings.
Jin Xilu didn't want to compete with them. She walked at the back, symbolically holding a white towel in her hand, and walked with a few scattered students who had been taught by Xin Xuan.
The funeral procession was not long, especially since it was not yet the Lantern Festival, and many families had already closed their doors tightly after hearing the sound of gongs and drums from afar.
The nephew at the front was faking his crying louder and louder, which annoyed Jin Xilu. She looked up and scattered white paper money into the gray sky, where it finally fell to the ground and was wiped away by someone who had left behind a series of overlapping footprints.
The funeral procession passed by Song Yanan's noodle shop, which was the only shop open on the main street at a glance.
Everyone knows that Xin Xuan died because of burning down the ancestral hall. Most shopkeepers would probably have thrown dirty water on the ground if it weren't for the fact that Xin Xuan had taught in the town for decades.
This is why Kim Hee-ro was worried and insisted on staying with the group for the entire journey.
Aunt Song stood at the shop entrance, the noodle press taking a rare break, quietly watching the funeral procession disappear into the distance. Then, she held onto the bamboo broom hanging upside down by the door, standing there firmly, watching to see who dared to deliberately cause trouble.
Song Yanan's foot wasn't fully healed, but she still limped here with Jin Xilu, leaning on crutches.
"Alright, it's almost over. Your foot isn't feeling well, you should go home and rest early." Jin Xilu helped Song Yanan stop.
"Oh my god, I really have to admit that Teacher Xin's relatives must be out of their minds. They've been acting for so long and they're not tired yet, but they insist on going out of their way to come here."
Song Yanan caught her breath. Her useless feet were still swollen. She really regretted running around with He Canyang that day; now they were even more swollen.
Thinking of He Canyang, Song Yanan naturally knew that Jin Xilu and Jiang Yilin had fallen out. She choked back a sob, glanced around, and immediately cursed, "He Canyang is crazy. He's lost his mind following Jiang Yilin. He likes to meddle in everything, but he's nowhere to be found when it matters."
Jin Xilu wasn't surprised that He Canyang didn't come to the funeral. After all, he already had a prejudice against her because of what happened back then. Their relationship had finally eased up a bit after he came back, but now, because of Jiang Yilin's matter, their relationship would probably only get worse.
The two exchanged a few words and were already more than ten meters away from the group when they suddenly heard a commotion coming from the group ahead.
The already disorganized funeral procession erupted into chaos. People at the front jumped up to try and block someone, cursing and shouting. Those at the back, bewildered, scrambled to avoid being bumped into.
From Jin Xilu and Song Yanan's perspective, a string of red firecrackers burst out from the white expanse in front of them, and the string of firecrackers was rushing towards them.
"You brat, do you know what you're doing?!"
"A bunch of old fogies, I'm perfectly sober, I'm going to rob you!"
When the person got closer, Jin Xilu was shocked to recognize that it was actually He Canyang.
Today, he was no longer the sophisticated and flamboyant man he usually was. Instead, he gave off a foolish and rich vibe. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing a bulky red coral fleece pajama set and a pair of summer sandals as he strode out of the crowd.
If he weren't still holding Xin Xuan's urn in his hands, Song Yanan would have suspected that the person in front of her was an alien impersonating He Canyang, who was abducted because of his low IQ.
"He Canyang, what are you doing!" Jin Xilu had been staying up all night for several nights in a row, and her mind was a little slow.
"Jin Xilu, catch!" He Canyang couldn't run anymore. Seeing that the man chasing behind was about to grab his coat, he quickly turned his body, made a feint, and then threw the urn to Song Yanan on the other side.
Song Yanan was stunned when she suddenly received the urn. She instinctively grabbed the contents and tried to run away, exclaiming, "Oh my god, why did you throw this at me?!"
"I don't know what benefits the Jiang family has given them, but they actually said they want to send the ashes to the Jiang family to accept their punishment. What kind of creepy ashes ceremony is this? A bunch of lunatics!"
Without the urn, He Canyang immediately used his height advantage, headbutting several people and using his hands to block a few others, all the while turning back to urge, "Run!"
"Okay, okay!" Song Yanan had only taken two steps with her crutches when her useless leg struggled to move forward.
At the crucial moment, Aunt Song appeared unexpectedly beside me, pushing an electric wheelchair.
"Come on, girl, sit down. Xilu, you push the wheelchair." As soon as she finished speaking, Aunt Song let go and let the wheelchair drive towards Jin Xilu and the other girl.
The scene was extremely chaotic. Aunt Song tossed her long hair, pulled out two bags of flour from somewhere, and threw them at people's eyes. With decades of business experience, Aunt Song's verbal skills were absolutely unmatched by anyone present.
When she approached a young woman, she immediately told her to get lost, saying that her man was beyond saving and that she was just trying to get back at him. When faced with a woman who overestimated herself and rushed to help, she said that her man had died and she was just here to join in the fun.
Not only were the people who came to snatch the ashes stunned, but even He Canyang, who was helping, was taken aback. He hadn't known that there was such a trick to fighting.
Once the psychological warfare begins, regardless of the final outcome, getting insulted is a win.
Taking advantage of this moment, Aunt Song unleashed her full power and momentum, not wasting a moment with her hands or mouth, and even had time to instruct He Canyang beside her: "Little He, get the water pipe under your feet."
"Okay!"
He Canyang was agile. He grabbed the man's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, then threw a punch that hit the man in the eye. He then used a feint kick to trip the man and squatted down on the already turned-on faucet.
Young people are healthy. After another stroll, He Canyang and Aunt Song reunited.
The two stood back to back, their mouths never stopping, their coordination surprisingly perfect, as if they were the mother and son.
One person sprinkled flour, while another sprayed water on their faces. In no time, they subdued the loudest ones.
There were mostly onlookers anyway, and stopping Xin Xuan's relatives was enough.
"Ah! You just wait, He Canyang, you'll get your comeuppance for openly opposing the Jiang family like this!"
"You just wait, you simp!" He Canyang rolled his eyes so hard they almost reached the sky. When he found out that Jiang Yilin was the one who mentioned the bizarre thing about offering ashes as offerings, he immediately went to find Jiang Yilin to find out the truth.
He still remembers Jiang Yilin standing by the largest window in the corridor, wearing a silver-white cloak embroidered with layers of feathers in gold thread. Outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten, and Jiang Yilin looked at him with cold and distant eyes. "Yes, it was me who said it."
"Jiang Yilin, have you lost your mind? What kind of ashes memorial service is this? How did you become like this?" He Canyang ran over with a flushed face. He didn't trust outsiders, but when he heard Jiang Yilin say this with his own ears, he really doubted that the person in front of him was Jiang Yilin.
Jiang Yilin's expressionless, dry fingers traced the glass, and the snowflakes melted into water droplets that clung to the glass. His voice was flat: "Don't you think the people in this town have all become wild? The sacred mountain has given everyone so much; it's time to take what they want."
"What do you want to do?" He Canyang really found Jiang Yilin's behavior terrifying. He stepped onto the stairs, and Jiang Yilin stepped back.
He looked up at Jiang Yilin, who was always a head taller than him, and laughed self-deprecatingly: "You used to say we would go out and see other mountains together, but now you can just stay here guarding your gold and silver mountains for the rest of your life. Now I know why Jin Xilu wanted to escape from your side."
Jiang Yilin was like a piece of silk that had been smoothed out; his emotions were calm, and he did not deny He Canyang's words.
“If Xin Xuan burns down the ancestral hall today, someone will dare to burn down the mountain tomorrow.” Finally, Jiang Yilin, leaning on the stair railing, seemed a little impatient and began to shoo He Canyang away: “Is this answer acceptable? He Canyang, no one is willing to keep coaxing you like a child.”
"Alright, alright Chief Jiang, I'll go snatch the ashes back first before I come back to scold you!" He Canyang flung his hand away, pushed open the door in his slippers, and plunged headfirst into the snow and rain.
The red figure staggered through the gray-blue snow, just like his name, making him seem cute and heartwarming.
As soon as He Canyang left, Jiang Yilin couldn't hold on any longer. She slowly sat down, holding onto the wooden armrest, and leaned her head against the cold, thick glass window. She smelled the faint smell of rotting wood in the living room, and her golden pupils couldn't focus on anything in the mist.
A woman wearing a custom-made white sunflower lace eye mask and a coat made from the same fabric as Jiang Yilin's rushed downstairs, the wooden stairs creaking and groaning with each step.
"Chief Jiang, are you alright? Why did you do this?" She asked with concern, carefully crouching down to help the chief, but Jiang Yilin stopped her.
Jiang Yilin's voice was deep and authoritative without being angry: "How many times have I told you, you need to get used to calling me A-Lin, just like I call you A-Qing, remember that?"
"Okay, I got it." Seeing Jiang Yilin gritting his teeth and struggling to even stand up, Aqing couldn't help but tear up.
Feeling sorry for him, she took the initiative to hug his much thinner waist. After sensing Jiang Yilin's stiffness and resistance, she couldn't bear it, but still quickly let go.
She should have realized it sooner; it was just acting. She told herself she had to act well, and it was normal to get emotional.
With a sob in her voice, A-Qing asked, "Why do you have to do this? Can't you just tell that woman directly? At least you'd feel better."
"Alright, A-Qing, go and give the orders. We're in a bit of a rush. Stop the Xin family so He Canyang can successfully grab the urn." Jiang Yilin pretended nothing had happened and calmly walked down the stairs alone, only reminding her before leaving the door: "A-Qing, take my hand."
"Okay," A-Qing agreed, but she was still unwilling.
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