Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Early the next morning, white mourning banners fluttered at the Chen residence on North Street.

The night watchman, passing by, paused to inquire, "Who has passed away?"

Lin Zai, the gatekeeper responsible for hanging the banners, sighed. "Our Young Master. He fell ill last night and died suddenly."

"Oh, heavens, how tragic… so young and gone just like that…"

As they spoke, Chen Biao arrived with his two sons. From afar, they spotted the glaring white banners on the main gate, and the three of them were visibly excited.

Just as they were about to enter, Lin Zai blocked their way. "Please return, the family isn't receiving visitors today."

Chen Qingfeng shoved Lin Zai aside. "Are you blind? Don’t you recognize my father?"

Lin Zai certainly recognized all three—they came every year seeking handouts, how could he not? But the Young Master had previously instructed that if Chen Biao and his family showed up again, they were to be driven away.

The three boldly entered the courtyard and found Wang Ying arranging the funeral in the front yard. Dressed entirely in white, with his hair tied back with a white ribbon, he resembled a pure white lily, making Chen Qingfeng stare transfixed.

Chen Qingfeng hadn’t been present at Chen Qingyan’s wedding and had no idea this Wang fellow was so handsome. He immediately became interested.

Wang Ying also noticed the three of them, thinking they had arrived quite quickly. He immediately put on a sorrowful expression and walked over. "Uncle Chen's here."

Chen Biao snorted and brushed past him, heading straight into the main hall.

Chen Qingling followed him inside, leaving only Chen Qingfeng, who paused beside Wang Ying. "Brother-in-law, we haven’t met. I’m Qing Yan’s elder brother, Chen Qingfeng. I had business on the day of your wedding and couldn’t attend."

"It’s good to meet you, Brother Qingfeng."

Wang Ying’s voice was somewhat hoarse. The family had discussed matters late into the night, and by morning, his throat was almost too raw to speak. But to Chen Qingfeng’s ears, it sounded like a hook, making his heart flutter.

"My brother was always in poor health and passed so early. It must be hard for you to carry on alone from now on."

Wang Ying wasn’t sure why he was saying this. He took out a handkerchief and pretended to wipe away tears. "Thank you for your concern, Brother Qingfeng."

In the main hall, Li Shi leaned back in her chair, exhausted. Having stayed up all night, she was weary but had to maintain a sorrowful demeanor to deal with Chen Biao, appearing utterly drained.

"Uncle Chen, you’re here…"

"Sister-in-law, my condolences. I know you’re grieving Qing Yan’s passing, but you must take care of your health."

"Ah…" Li Shi yawned, quickly covering her mouth and pretending to sob.

Chen Qingling said, "Brother Yan had been ill for so long; living was suffering. Now that he’s passed, he’s been released from suffering. Aunt, please don’t cry yourself sick."

Chen Biao glared at his second son for speaking without thinking.

Li Shi felt like scolding him, but she had to keep up the act. She nodded weakly. "Right now, I don’t have the energy to entertain you. Please come back another time. We can discuss matters after Qing Yan’s funeral."

"How could we do that?" Chen Biao sat down without invitation. "The funeral is a major event. Since my elder brother is no longer here, as his uncle, I can’t just stand by and do nothing. Qing Yan’s funeral should be handled by me!"

Li Shi had expected him to say this. Following the script Wang Ying had prepared the night before, she replied, "Then I’ll trouble you with it, Uncle. Right now, the family doesn’t have much available silver. My dowry isn’t easy to liquidate quickly. Could you cover the costs for now? After the funeral… we can make arrangements."

Her words implied handing over the entire household to him. Chen Biao was so delighted he nearly laughed aloud.

He coughed twice to hide his smile. "Don’t worry, sister-in-law. I’ll make sure our nephew’s funeral is proper and dignified! Have you sent word to Third Sister and Fourth Brother?"

"Not yet. It was so sudden… there wasn’t time."

The Chen family’s third aunt had married into a family in the county town, a two or three days' journey from the town, and seldom returned. The fourth uncle was an official in Laizhou, even farther away.

"In my opinion, just send word to Third Sister. Fourth Brother is busy with official duties; no need to trouble him to travel back and forth."

"Uncle, you decide." Li Shi could no longer keep sitting. She held her forehead and stood up to rest in the bedroom.

Chen Biao, looking pleased, led his two sons toward the mourning hall in the backyard.

In the backyard, Chen Qingyan was lying in his coffin reading a book. Worried he might be uncomfortable, Wang Ying had laid dry grass and thick padding inside, so lying there all day wouldn’t be too tiresome.

Qing Yun and Qing Song, dressed in mourning clothes, sat on prayer mats burning spirit money. Having burned paper for their father a few years prior, the two were experienced—they knew how to burn it quickly without producing smoke or letting ashes fly everywhere.

"Sis, do you think since we’re burning so much spirit money now and no one’s collecting it, we could deposit it in the underworld and withdraw it after we die?"

Chen Qingyun rolled her eyes. "Do you think the afterlife has banks? How about… we burn this paper for Dad instead? Let him spend it."

Chen Qingsong frowned. "Stop talking nonsense, both of you. Focus on your task."

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside, followed by Chen Biao’s performative wailing. "Oh, my dear nephew, why were you so unfortunate…"

Chen Qingyan quickly slipped the book under his hip, straightened his clothes, closed his eyes, and pretended to be dead.

Uncle Chen, upon seeing the three, nervously stepped forward to block them. "Why are you here? Don’t—don’t go in and disturb the Young Master."

Chen Qingfeng said, "Tch, you old fool. Do you still think the Chen family is under my uncle’s control? Look at the situation—after we send off Chen Qingyan, you can pack your things and go!"

"You!" Uncle Chen’s face flushed red with anger.

Chen Qingyun and Chen Qingsong also stood up, glaring at him furiously.

Chen Biao patted his eldest son’s shoulder, wearing a hypocritical expression. "I know you’re grieving over Qing Yan’s passing. I’m heartbroken too. But life must go on. My elder brother is gone, and sister-in-law is struggling on her own. You two are too young. From now on, I’ll have to take on more responsibility and look after things."

With that, he pushed Uncle Chen aside and strode in. Chen Qingsong rushed over to drive them out but was pulled back by Qing Yun. The siblings hugged each other, shaking with anger.

The three entered the mourning hall but didn’t dare approach the corpse. After all, they were the ones who had poisoned him, and guilt made them uneasy.

Chen Biao lit a stick of incense and handed it to his younger son. "Go offer this to your cousin. Tell him not to worry about the family. We’ll take care of his mother and brother-in-law from now on."

Chen Qingling took the incense with a smirk and placed it in the incense burner. "Cousin, rest in peace."

Inside the coffin, Chen Qingyan clenched his fists. Thankfully, it was all an act. Thankfully, A Ying was here—otherwise, who knew how difficult life would have been.

Chen Biao pulled up a chair and sat down. "Go call the man of the house here. We need to discuss the funeral arrangements."

Uncle Chen stormed out angrily. Shortly after, Wang Ying entered, looking weary and grief-stricken, a far cry from his usual arrogant self.

"How do you plan to handle the funeral?"

"Mother is Buddhist. She wants to invite monks to recite sutras for seven days, to ensure he passes peacefully."

Chen Biao calculated that chanting sutras shouldn’t cost too much. "Fine, I’ll send for them later. What else?"

"I’m not sure about the rest. I’ve never arranged a funeral before. Uncle, you decide."

This was exactly what Chen Biao wanted. Since he was scheming to take over the main family’s property, he had to put on a good show; otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to justify himself to Third Sister and Fourth Brother.

"Leave it to me. First, give me the keys to the storeroom."

Wang Ying hesitated, then untied the keys from his waist. "Mother has been going to the mountain to worship Buddha every day lately and donated a lot of temple money. There isn’t much silver left in the house now."

Chen Biao brushed it off, heading straight to the storeroom with his two sons.

Upon opening the door, their jaws dropped—the storeroom was almost empty, containing only a few bolts of cheap coarse cloth and half a box of unsellable ink sticks.

"Dad, what—what do we do now?"

"That thieving good-for-nothing must have hidden everything! Don’t worry, let’s scrape together some money to handle the funeral first. In a few days, he’ll get what’s coming to him!"

*

Funerals in ancient times were different from modern ones—not only complicated but also time-consuming. Just selecting a burial site took three days.

Since Chen Qingyan did not die a natural death but a violent one, Chen Biao, afraid the ghost would come back to haunt him, specially paid a feng shui master to find a grave site believed to suppress restless souls.

They also hired monks for chanting scriptures. Coincidentally, they were from the very temple Li Shi often donated to. The cost was one string of cash a day, totaling seven strings for seven days.

Wang Ying couldn’t afford this, so Chen Biao had no choice but to bite the bullet and borrow high-interest loans, planning to pay it back once everything was settled. The family busied themselves back and forth, and anyone unaware might have truly thought they were so genuinely helpful.

On the ninth day of the eighth month, Third Aunt Chen Rong returned from the county town. She hadn’t been back home since her eldest brother’s death three years ago, and never expected her return would be for another funeral.

The carriage stopped at the Chen family’s main gate. Seeing the white funeral banners swaying in the wind, Chen Rong felt her heart break. She was crying as she walked into the courtyard.

"Qing Yan, my poor nephew—"

Hearing the voice, Li Shi hurried out to greet her. "Third Sister, you’re back."

Chen Rong was too choked up to speak, clutching Li Shi’s arm as tears streamed down her face. Her grief made Li Shi feel guilty. "Don’t cry like this, you’ve come such a long way—be careful not to harm your health."

"How could this happen so suddenly? When Qing Yan went to the county for the exams last year, wasn’t he perfectly fine? How could he be gone in such a short time..."

Li Shi dabbed her tears with a handkerchief. "After he failed the exams, he returned home and fell seriously ill. We called many doctors, but none of them worked, and he never got his strength back."

"Eldest Sister-in-Law, how could you be so careless? Why didn’t you send him to the county? As his aunt, I would have sold everything to see him cured!"

"The child refused to go..." This part was not a lie. When Chen Qingyan fell ill, Li Shi had considered sending him to the county for treatment, but he refused to eat and threatened suicide at the mere mention of going, so she had to drop the idea.

"Where is the child? Let me see him one last time..."

Li Shi led her directly to the mourning hall in the backyard. The third aunt was a straightforward person—she went in, leaned over Chen Qingyan’s body, and began to weep.

As luck would have it, she happened to press on his ticklish spot, and he couldn’t bear the itch, so he pushed her away slightly.

This, of course, caused a panic. Terrified, Chen Rong let out a sharp cry and fainted.

Wang Ying reacted quickly, catching her. "The aunt has fainted from excessive grief! Quickly, take her to a room to rest!"