Chapter 17
The night wind threatened to extinguish the candles in the hall, and the water dripping from the eaves slowed down. The waning moon shone silvery light through the half-open door, falling on the coffin and the person kneeling beside it.
Chen Yi watched the candlelight swaying in the wind, slowly tracing the coffin with his eyes. When he heard the sound of a door opening behind him, he just watched the figure reflected in the light block out the moonlight.
There were too many people awake in the mansion late at night, and only that person was allowed to enter the hall. "What brings you here, father?"
Only after Shen Yi opened his mouth did he realize that his voice was hoarse, and the short sentence he spoke seemed to be blown away by the wind.
"Come and take a look." Chen Qian also knelt down, making some small noises, and glanced at the still-flickering candlelight. "According to the custom, the funeral procession is conducted in court attire. Your mother is still in a coma..."
Shen Yi subconsciously supported himself on the coffin and finally looked at the visitor. "Grandfather never liked extravagance. Father came at night to decide whether to open the coffin?"
If that was the case, he would rather Shen Qian not care about his grandfather's funeral arrangements at all. Whether it was the coffin or the clothes, if his grandfather had discussed this matter before his death, he would probably tell those around him to just dig a grave in Longxi and bury them.
Year after year, the wind and sand will carve tombstones, and day after day, the grass and trees will grow luxuriantly.
He stared into Shen Qian's eyes, unable to detect any trace of sadness. Furthermore, he wore the same cold smile as Shen Qian. "Father always loves to talk about party disputes. I've been thinking about his teachings these past few days."
"Father didn't mean to do anything, so why bother yourself?" He spoke slowly, calming the sobs he had been holding back and hiding his anger. "The journey to Longxi is long, but since I've already received God's grace, I'll just keep things simple."
"One defeat, one victory; one life, one death. Grandfather, can you fulfill Father's wish and offset our merits and demerits?" He couldn't help but raise his voice, his voice becoming increasingly muddy. "If the funeral is too extravagant, I'm afraid it will cause Father more trouble."
Shen Yi turned his gaze back to the coffin, "I believe my grandfather doesn't want to bother my father. Let's bury him peacefully in the mausoleum the day after tomorrow."
He withdrew his hand from the coffin and continued to watch the flickering candlelight quietly. Chen Qian only responded with a whisper, a rare response.
It seemed that Shen Qian had only knelt for less than half an hour that night before he left the room, leaving Shen Yi alone in the hall. Shen Yi did not want to rest any longer, as he had not slept a wink day or night since Shen Qian's visit, guarding the coffin by himself in case anything went wrong.
It was not until late at night on the day before entering the mausoleum that he got up and changed into new clothes. After a while, he knelt beside the coffin again.
Shen Yi was still dressed in white, only tying up his long hair and wrapping it around his forehead with a white ribbon. Huo Yue's coffin was carried in front, carried by his old subordinates who had returned from Longxi.
Chen Qian and Huo Shi fell behind, following a long line of white people through the bustling streets and out of the city.
Shen Yi just stared at the coffin in front of him. It was like this when they sang the dirge, and it was like this when the royal family sent envoys to the funeral, until they knelt down and worshiped, and the wailing sounded for a long time.
Hoarse cries, silent cries, and the silent hypocrisy that mingled with them. He wondered blankly how his grandfather would just laugh it off if he were willing to take a look at this situation.
The coffin vanished from his sight, carried by special personnel into the already constructed mausoleum and buried with royal rites. All that remained to be carried in were the bronze and jade burial objects, along with precious porcelain, one by one.
After kneeling for two or three days, Shen Yi had long since grown accustomed to the stiffness of his body, and he had no time to care about the bruises and frostbite on his knees. He was now unable to make any sound and could only sing the elegy he had composed.
He knelt in front of the mausoleum and watched the invited scholar write the epitaph for his grandfather. Although it was called writing, it was just copying a few words according to the will of the heaven.
Buried here is the cavalry general of the Later Shang Dynasty. His life's achievements can only be summed up in one sentence: bravery and fighting skills.
He closed his eyes, somewhat unwilling to let his grandfather see the current situation. The simple burial became an lavish one, and the burial became a eulogy - the grace of heaven, it was sprinkled a little too late.
Or, only after people leave, can the ghosts sitting in high positions smile peacefully and reward people with things that they will never use again.
He never let out a sigh, kneeling as he watched the entrance to the mausoleum being sealed securely. The epitaph was complete, the offerings to heaven concluded. His grandfather was gone, completely.
When they returned to the Marquis' Mansion from outside the city, most of them had dispersed. The white clothes in the Marquis' Mansion had not yet faded, and Chen Yi finally lay down on the bed.
He fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from days and nights of sleep. The setting sun was still waiting for the waning moon tonight, but it was first met with dark clouds. The red glow in the sky was completely obscured by dusk, and only the birds outside the city could be heard chirping, struggling to find something to eat in the weeds before finally flying back to their nests.
This year's bustle was destined to have nothing to do with the Marquis' Mansion. When Shen Yi returned to his bed, he felt the pain in his leg, figuring it would heal on its own in less than a month. After a quick vegetarian meal and a white shirt, he closed the door of Mrs. Huo's room tightly.
He waited a long time until a maid brought hot porridge from the kitchen to his room. He tried to follow her in, but was unexpectedly stopped outside. "Madam... said she hasn't seen anyone lately. Young Marquis, why don't you—wait a few days until Madam feels better and come back to see her."
The maid lowered her head and whispered to him what Mrs. Huo had ordered. Shen Yi clenched his fingertips, and seeing that she had been waiting for him, he reluctantly responded and made way.
He retreated to the courtyard and watched the maid enter the room. After waiting for a while, he watched her leave. After their eyes met and he nodded, the maid was willing to walk away and continue with her own business.
Shen Yi wanted to move closer, but then thought of what he had just heard and stopped where he was. Mrs. Huo usually wouldn't change her words easily. Especially at a time like this, even if he saw A Niang again, what would it matter? He couldn't say anything to comfort her.
Including himself, they were still immersed in mourning, and didn't even know what kind of situation Shen Qian was in in the palace. They could only hear about some funeral rites sent in the name of Shen Qian through the imperial edict.
That emperor was unwilling to let my sister leave the harem for a few days even at this time.
The wounds on his body had scabbed over, and the new flesh was itchy. Chen Yi spent day after day like this, eating vegetarian food without alcohol, eating white clothes without joy. He used to dream about his grandfather, but in recent days, his sleep has become increasingly restless, and he has not even dreamed anymore.
The year-end bustle didn't reach the Marquis's residence. Even Chen Qian had to observe protocol, remaining confined to the mansion except for necessary court meetings. Suddenly, Chen Yi felt a little annoyed. His newly tailored white clothes were stained with dust. The cries of the past few days would eventually be forgotten by others. He could only secretly speculate on the year-end events. Since there were no banquets this year, he privately listened to the excitement outside the mansion.
It seemed as if the great victory in Longxi had faded away, and the elegy in the Marquis' Mansion had also faded away, but the living who remained began to look up and look forward to the next full moon.
He closed the door tightly and isolated himself in the room like Mrs. Huo. In the silence, he counted the days that had passed and the days that would come.
This kind of silence did not last for a few days. When he was about to take out the wooden box beside his pillow, the servant hurriedly called out in front of the door, "Young Marquis..." Seeing that he did not respond, he raised his voice a little and called out again, "Young Marquis..."
Chen Yi pushed the wooden box in his hand back to the edge of the couch, got off the couch and opened the door following the other party's shouting, "What's the matter?" When it was his turn to answer, the other party seemed to realize that something was wrong, so he lowered his voice and lowered his head.
"There's a Mr. Xue in front of the palace asking to see you. He said he has something important to tell the young marquis."
Xue Congzhi? Shen Yi paused, thinking of the piece of silk cloth that had been burned to ashes. "Just say you're still in mourning and won't see me." Did he also come back from Longxi?
The servant hurried out to pass on the message, only to return in a moment with another reply. "The master simply said he had something important to discuss and must see the young marquis today."
"Call him in." Chen Yi stretched out his hand and pushed open the window that had been closed for a long time, letting the cold wind blow in and dispersing the lingering incense in the room. However, he really didn't know what Xue Congzhi could have that required him to come find him.
"Young Marquis." Xue Heng, dressed in black, followed the servant into the room and bowed with his sleeve raised. Chen Yi, still dressed in white, stood quietly and looked at the man who had just returned from Longxi.
"What's the matter that requires you to come here today?" He spoke, continuing to look at the person in front of him. It seemed that he had not changed much since he passed by, except that his clothes were a little older.
"I shouldn't have come to your house at this time, but I'm following the old general's instructions." Xue Heng said nothing more and directly stated the purpose of his visit. He took out half a piece of coarse cloth from his sleeve and handed it to Shen Yi with both hands. "The old general wrote a few words on his deathbed, wrapped in a sign, and kept mentioning the young marquis."
He smiled faintly, "So Congzhi broke into the Marquis' Mansion without permission and handed it to the young Marquis in person, so as to live up to the old general's trust." After seeing Shen Yi took the cloth, he saluted again.
"Now that the things have been delivered, I hope the young marquis will mourn for you. The old general finally slept peacefully."
"I'll take my leave first." Xue Heng felt that he had said everything and seemed to understand Shen Yi's reaction. He turned around and walked out of the room by himself.
Ever since Shen Yi took the piece of coarse cloth, he really didn't listen to what Xue Congzhi said, nor did he hear the faint words of comfort.
His hands trembled as he thought for a long time about what other words his grandfather could have left behind besides the keepsake. Perhaps it was just some instructions, whether to his mother, to himself, or about the Huo family. After all, it was the last thing the old man thought of.
Regardless, Shen Yi thought, he had to do it and take over the keepsake that the old man had accumulated over his lifetime of riding. If he had the chance in the future, he would definitely go to Longxi to see if the wind and sand in the west were still there for his grandfather.
He slowly unfolded the folded coarse cloth and took out the token he had personally engraved before he could clearly see the words on it.
The two words were written in rough strokes, twisted with dried blood. There were only these two words—
By yourself.
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