Chapter 25 Underworld Alarm Bell

Chapter 25: The Underworld's Alarm Bell

Tan Youming gasped, his phone clattering onto the sofa. Shen Zongnian observed his ashen face, then silently bent to retrieve the phone, offering it back.

It took Tan Youming a moment to take the device and resume scrolling.

"According to an exclusive TCB report, Mrs. Xie passed away fifteen days ago after medical treatment proved ineffective..."

"Due to the New Year taboo against reporting deaths, news only broke today from an anonymous source. The Xie family has not disclosed the exact time of her passing. Xie Ruiguo, Xie Zhenlin, and other relevant individuals have all declined interviews..."

"Our reporter stationed at Mingshan reports that young master Xie knelt outside his family's gate, crying and shouting for hours, denied entry. His cries continued until dawn, after which bodyguards forcibly removed him from the premises..."

"Since 8:40 this morning, a small number of condolence bouquets have gradually appeared around the mansion."

"Since the early 1990s, Mrs. Xie dedicated years to philanthropic endeavors, establishing girls' schools in areas such as Yau Ma Tei and Lok Ma Chau. She also participated in and championed the reform of the church school system during the millennium, advocating for a balanced and gradual integration of Chinese and Western education..."

"Currently, the Xie mansion has sealed all access routes to Mingshan. This station will provide real-time updates on further developments..."

On the nineteenth day of the first lunar month, the Xie family officially issued an obituary. The four members of the Tan family, uniformly dressed in plain black suits, proceeded to Mingshan to attend the memorial service.

The Lincoln navigated the winding mountain road. Spring had fully blossomed from winter, heralded by flocks of sparrows.

Wild azaleas ran rampant across the slopes, blanketing the Xie residence like a thick, suffocating quilt. The few white buildings stood out like vividly colored tombs.

Upon arriving at the Xie mansion, they found a considerable number of people already present.

The Tan family presented two floral wreaths, one for each generation.

The memorial couplet, beginning with "Ms. Ceng Ni" from the Tan family, stood out starkly and incongruously amidst the uniform "Mrs. Xie" appellations.

Journalists exchanged glances, unsure if this deviation from protocol was acceptable.

However, the impassive gazes of Guan Kezhi and Tan Youming, looking down from their elevated position, made them suddenly hesitant to speak.

Guan Kezhi lifted her black sunglasses, her voice deep as she asked, "Is there a problem?" Today, her long black hair was tied in a low ponytail. Dressed entirely in black, she exuded a solemn, sharp aura, like a formidable secret agent.

A journalist stammered, "...No problem, Ms. Guan."

Guan Kezhi, her face etched with sorrow, walked alongside Tan Youming. Tan Zhongshan and Shen Zongnian followed behind the mother and son.

The Xie and Zeng families had restricted attendance at the farewell ceremony, excluding the general public and beneficiaries of their foundations. Only prominent families received formal invitations.

In such circles, even a mourning hall transformed into a social ladder and an arena for networking. Many seemed surprised by the presence of Tan Zhongshan and Guan Kezhi, approaching them for conversation. After all, the Xie family had long since been relegated from the upper echelons of society, becoming a second-tier family in decline.

Xie Ruiguo, visibly flattered, approached them, feigning regret and sorrow as an opening gambit.

Guan Kezhi observed him. While the media reported that Mr. Xie's hair had turned white overnight from grief, she detected no genuine sorrow in his demeanor.

Guan Kezhi felt a surge of weariness and responded coolly. Although Xie Ruiguo was displeased, Tan Zhongshan, Tan Youming, and Shen Zongnian stood around her like three unyielding mountains, forcing him to swallow his indignation.

The mourning hall was arranged before the altar, adorned with incense burners, offerings, candleholders, and bright lamps. The large black-and-white portrait depicted a woman not yet fifty, serene and virtuous, her gaze fixed on every mourner entering the room.

On either side of the altar, panels detailed the deceased's life achievements, extolling Ceng Ni's virtues as the Xie family matriarch—her wisdom, generosity, diligence, and frugality—and her filial piety and support for the Zeng family as their eldest daughter.

Her personal accomplishments were mentioned only in passing.

Guan Kezhi's eyes swept over them, a mix of sorrow and anger stirring within her. She wondered what the Xie family had done to deserve such a woman.

The Xie family had engaged Taoist priests for rituals. The four members of the Tan family offered incense, bowed, burned spirit money and paper houses as the priests chanted.

Guan Kezhi looked into Ceng Ni's eyes. They hadn't been particularly close, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been necessary for Guan Kezhi and Tan Zhongshan to attend.

However, they had been casual acquaintances for a few years at a church girls' school, and Ceng Ni's death had been exceptionally sudden.

In Guan Kezhi's memory, Ceng Ni was a very traditional yet exceptionally kind-hearted classmate. Xie Zhenlin, both as a child and an adult, had visited the Tan family—a sincere, good-natured boy. How could his story have ended this way?

The external reports were a chaotic mix of conflicting and sensationalized accounts. Yet, witnessing the Xie family's attitudes and actions today, Guan Kezhi, hailing from a bureaucratic family, keenly sensed a profound disconnect and absurdity.

Did her classmate truly die solely because of her child's sexual orientation? After decades in the Xie family, did she still retain her own identity? Were there any among the mourners today who genuinely grieved for her?

Was Ceng Ni truly the kind of mother who would resort to death threats? Or was she a bargaining chip Xie Ruiguo used to manipulate his son, or perhaps a sacrifice to balance the interests of the Xie and Zeng families?

However, the narratives of the deceased are always shaped by the living, and the rhetoric of powerful families is often deceitful and manipulative. The Xie family had already sealed her fate, and the full truth would remain forever unknown.

From the front hall to the mourning hall, Tan Youming saw no sign of Xie Zhenlin. Even the main officiants were Xie family nephews.

He hadn't been able to contact Xie Zhenlin since the New Year. Recalling the rumors, Tan Youming's worry deepened. Could the Xie family truly be so heartless as to deny a mother and son their final farewell?

His subtle unease did not escape Shen Zongnian's notice. Such a scene was particularly harsh for Tan Youming, who had never personally experienced death. Shen Zongnian instinctively wanted to offer support, as he always had, but his hand merely twitched, clenching into a fist, unable to reach out.

From the moment he stepped into the mourning hall, Ceng Ni's maternal eyes seemed to scrutinize him like a demon-revealing mirror, leaving Shen Zongnian exposed, with nowhere to hide.

The white flowers, candleholders, and solemn coffin, every mournful cry and eerie chant, felt like an interrogation, an alarm bell, echoing loudly and clearly, revealing the path ahead.

Hell was close.

Should he take another step forward?

Who did he intend to bring along?

Shen Zongnian's expression remained impassive, his posture rigid, yet a thin layer of sweat seeped from his back.

As the souls awaiting reincarnation perched on the flames of the spirit altar, the white paper in the mourning hall seemed to shed a bone-chilling snow under the tropical island sky.

When it was Shen Zongnian's turn to offer incense, as if by some ominous warning, a segment of incense ash fell directly onto the back of his hand.

The burn spread instantly like wildfire. Shen Zongnian did not even flinch. A cold wind swept through the hall, and a light piece of white paper ash settled on his collar—a tiny, weightless fragment, yet it felt like a mountain on his shoulder.

As the sun shifted westward, Shen Zongnian was gradually engulfed by the shadow of the spirit altar until not a trace of his own shadow remained on the ground.

In the heavy atmosphere before the spirit tablet, each person harbored their own thoughts. The priests' droning chants hung over them like a pervasive fog.

Many people approached to chat, but Guan Kezhi detested socializing in such settings and harbored numerous dissatisfactions with the Xie family's funeral arrangements. After a final glance at Ceng Ni, she departed early, leaving Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian to represent the Tan family for the remainder of the ceremony.

Tan Youming sensed his mother's distress and offered a few words of comfort, though he himself was dazed, replaying his few interactions with Ceng Ni: how she had held Xie Zhenlin as a child and told him to call Tan Youming "brother," how she had distributed Mango Pomelo Sago during school spring outings...

That gentle aunt was now reduced to the cold, formal "Mrs. Xie" in the elegy. No one would ever know how lovingly she smiled at children or how gentle her voice had been...

Finally, the time came to bid farewell to the deceased. The guests lined up in order, mournful music played, and the coffin was about to be sealed—Ceng Ni’s face was slowly being covered—

Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted from the front hall. A figure, wild-haired like a savage, broke free from four or five bodyguards and charged in.

"Mom!! Mom!"

"Don’t go, Mom, I know I was wrong, Mom—"

Xie Zhenlin, disheveled and tear-streaked, scrambled and clung to the edge of the coffin, struggling to see his mother one last time as the priests tried to seal it.

The nearly 1.9-meter-tall man wailed like a large dog abandoned on the street, pitiful and wretched. No matter how tall or strong, everyone becomes a small child before their mother.

He hadn't seen his mom in ages. Ever since returning from abroad before the New Year, Xie Ruiguo wouldn't let him in the house or visit the hospital. To keep things quiet, the entrance was heavily guarded—he had no idea how severely ill his mother had become.

"Wasn't it just a minor issue? Mom, why did it suddenly turn out like this?" Xie Zhenlin was sobbing uncontrollably, banging his head against the coffin, leaving red marks. "Didn't you say you wanted to meet Xiao Sui? Was that a lie, Mom?"

"Are you doing this to punish me, Mom? We had an agreement."

"We agreed that after I returned from abroad, we would have a meal together," Xie Zhenlin dug his nails into the coffin, his fingers bleeding. "Why did it suddenly turn out like this, Mom—"

"Oh, Mom, please!"

The person in the coffin remained motionless, like a large dog left out in the rain, utterly hopeless.

Tan Youming’s eyes grew hot, and he turned away, unable to bear watching any longer. At that moment, he suddenly realized with startling clarity that Xie Zhenlin, despite his tall stature, was actually a few years younger than him—just a young man just starting out in the world, still wet behind the ears.

He had rarely seen this younger brother cry so bitterly. Back when the Xie family was still thriving, Xie Zhenlin and Zhuo Zhixuan used to follow Tan Youming around every day. Zhuo Zhixuan never called him "brother," but Xie Zhenlin would always chase after him, calling him "Youming gege."

Tan Youming would bring them cookies made by the family’s housekeeper. Once, when Zhuo Zhixuan took an extra box, Tan Youming pointed it out, and Xie Zhenlin would understandingly scratch his head and say, "It's okay, let Zhixuan gege have it. I’m fine with this one."

The next time, Tan Youming brought an extra box for him, and Xie Zhenlin put it in his backpack, saying he'd bring it home for his mom to try.

He was the understanding, cheerful younger brother—and from now on, this younger brother would no longer have a mother.

Xie Zhenlin, eyes bloodshot, wept in agony, begging for his mother to return: "Mom, are you abandoning me? What about Songguo?"—Songguo was his mother’s favorite little dog—"It will worry if it can’t find you, Mom—"

Xie Ruiguo ordered the security guards to drag him away, shouting angrily, "You shameless wretch! How dare you show your face here? You drove your mother to her grave! Get him out of here—if he slips in again, you’re all fired!"