Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The six beggars were young to begin with, and once separated, their fighting ability was pitiful. They were quickly pinned to the ground by the crowd, who were worked up into a fervor, unable to move.

The clerk swiftly scanned the surroundings. Luckily, they were just young beggars, and there weren't many of them.

Otherwise, with Shen Yuan's few words stirring things up, combined with everyone's unwillingness to back down and their fierce determination to finish each other off, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

Even so, the pinned-down beggars glared with resentment at the adults holding them down, clearly ready for another round.

Fortunately, the Wu Kingdom revered martial culture and respected authority.

Even a minor functionary was someone the common people dared not provoke.

Those who could serve as clerks in the yamen usually had some family background and clout.

That was why the clerk alone was able to quell the crowd and restore order.

Those pinning the beggars quickly let go and slipped back into the crowd, while others who had been about to charge in aborted their charge and hastily backed off.

The beggars didn't dare run; the clerk's eyes were fixed on them.

They were well aware of the seriousness of his words. As beggars, they were confined to wandering the county. Without proper identification or travel papers, if the officials decided to track them down and eradicate them, escape was impossible.

Their earlier threats were just bravado in the heat of the moment; they wouldn't dare act on them for real.

Paying no mind to those who had slipped away, the clerk continued coldly to the beggars, "On your feet, all of you. You are arrested for assault and robbery in broad daylight. You'll go to the yamen for a round of beatings and one month of corvée labor."

The lead beggar finally came to his senses. Pointing at Shen Yuan, he said, "Sir, we were beaten by him too! He should come with us!"

He hadn't seen the others who joined the fight. Fine, he'd take that loss, but he couldn't let this scrawny kid off! Once they got to the corvée labor site, he and his brothers would make him regret it!

The clerk tsked impatiently. "I only saw you lot assaulting and robbing people; I didn't see you getting beaten. Stop your yapping and get up, or you'll regret it!"

Even a fool could tell this was blatant favoritism and covering up.

The lead beggar looked at the clerk, who barked coldly, "What are you looking at!"

He shrank back, not daring to show anger or speak. An official's word could crush a man; he valued his hide...

Even though it was just a single clerk, the beggars didn't dare run and could only stand up obediently.

Usually, when they robbed or assaulted people, no one dared report it. These matters, if unreported, meant the officials wouldn't investigate. Sometimes, even if clerks witnessed it, they'd turn a blind eye out of laziness.

Today, they were unlucky, running into someone who liked to meddle.

Since an official was involved, they had to submit meekly, or their days ahead would be bleak.

Watching them line up, the clerk handed the fish back to Shen Yuan. "Take this yourself. It weighs a ton."

Shen Yuan had initially wanted to give the fish directly to the clerk, thanking him for willfully turning a blind eye and giving him a pass. But then he heard the clerk call it "damn heavy." The fish was only about two pounds, hardly heavy at all. Shen Yuan was getting a read on the clerk's character; saying this clearly meant he wouldn't accept it.

He had no choice but to take the fish. "Brother, thank you."

The clerk said, "Don't get chummy. My name is Ji Ping'an. You can call me Ji..." Brother.

Before he could finish, Shen Yuan smoothly changed his address. "Brother Ping'an, thank you so much! Tomorrow, I'll haul a few more sacks and buy you sesame cakes."

Ji Ping'an was annoyed. Whatever, let him call him what he wanted.

"No need to remind me I ate your sesame cake." Ji Ping'an gave Shen Yuan a once-over. This kid wasn't bad at heart, smooth-tongued and likable. Though a bit impulsive, he also knew how to size up a situation. Otherwise, he would have rushed out at the docks. He was clever and sharp-witted, with a good head on his shoulders. There just happened to be a job he could recommend him for, as a way to repay that sesame cake.

That way, this kid wouldn't keep trying to butter him up because of it.

"There's a teahouse on Duofu Street short of a tea attendant. Go check it out tomorrow if you're free. Just say Ji Ping'an recommended you."

Shen Yuan was taken aback. A tea attendant? A good job! He could do that! Was this repaying the favor of the sesame cake? That seemed too generous. He said with embarrassment, "Brother Ping'an, one sesame cake isn't a big deal. This feels like I'm taking advantage of you."

"I wouldn't tell you if you weren't suitable. If you don't want to go, I'll find someone else," Ji Ping'an said.

Shen Yuan quickly said, "I'll go, I'll go! I was just feigning reluctance for a moment."

He was worried about finding work. How could he not go!

Ji Ping'an let out a cold snort. "Don't mention that sesame cake again, and don't try to get familiar with me."

Shen Yuan felt "don't get familiar" and "none of that familiarity" were Ji Ping'an's catchphrases—all bark and no bite.

If he had actually taken them to heart, he wouldn't have caught Ji Ping'an's attention in the first place, let alone gotten a recommendation for a decent job.

Though he didn't know why he had caught Ji Ping'an's eye or why the man had helped him.

Shen Yuan picked up the fish and waved. "Take care, Brother Ping'an." Remembering Ji Ping'an seemed to care a lot about that sesame cake, he promised, "I definitely won't mention the sesame cake again."

Ji Ping'an answered with a nasal grunt and led the six beggars back to the county yamen.

The surrounding crowd also dispersed immediately, afraid Ji Ping'an might remember them. Shen Yuan turned and helped Lao Xutou up.

"Thank you, young man, thank you, thank you..." Lao Xutou ignored his own injuries, bowing repeatedly in thanks. Earlier, he had truly thought he was going to die, never expecting someone to step in and save him.

He had merely supported the boy momentarily while carrying a heavy load, never expecting not only to receive precious coarse grain cakes but also to be rescued like this.

"Please don't mention it, Elder. There's no need for thanks. Are your injuries serious? There's a clinic just ahead; shall we have a look?"

Hearing the young man's concerned words, the bitterness and sorrow in Lao Xutou's heart lessened considerably, replaced by a warm current.

"It's nothing serious. You..." Lao Xutou paused, his aged, cloudy eyes fixed on Shen Yuan. "My sons were all about your age when they left home for the battlefield."

Shen Yuan finally understood why the old man's eyes seemed to glisten with tears when looking at him.

So that was why.

Remembering what Ji Ping'an had told him, he spoke to comfort the old man. "Your sons were all remarkable heroes. I also thank them for protecting us with their lives."

Upon hearing this, Lao Xutou's eyes shimmered with tears. No one had ever said such words to him. So his sons were great heroes. So someone remembered why his sons had died and was grateful for it.

He wiped his tears. "Yes, they were all good boys. If they were still here, I definitely wouldn't have been beaten. You don't know, they were all good boys. This old man misses them terribly."

Watching the old man suppress his sobs, Shen Yuan felt a heaviness in his heart.

Deceased loved ones, not even a final farewell, so many words left unsaid, so much longing left unexpressed, so much grievance left unconsoled.

But they could never be seen again.

The yearning could not be conveyed, but nothing could stop its wild, unchecked growth.

"They’re gone without a trace, not even their bones remain. Sometimes I just want to sit and talk to them, but there’s nowhere to go." Old Man Xu was already in tears. "How could they be so cruel, abandoning their mother and me like this? They promised before going to the battlefield that they’d come back alive."

Because of that promise, the old couple would stand at their door every day, waiting for their children who had left home.

But all that came were death notices, one after another.

They would never see them again.

Shen Yuan wiped the old man’s tears with his sleeve. "There can be a grave—a place to sit and talk to them."

Shen Yuan said, "We can set up a cenotaph. Even if it’s far away, even without their remains, the departed spirits can return home."

Old Man Xu was stunned, then grabbed Shen Yuan’s sleeve tightly, as if clutching a lifeline. "What’s a cenotaph? What are departed spirits?"

A grave is just a place to visit when missing departed loved ones. It feels like they're still there, just asleep in the ground.

But what was a cenotaph? And what were spirits? Old Man Xu had never heard of such things.

Shen Yuan also noticed something odd about Wu Country—it seemed that traditions around rituals and sacrifices were largely absent.

In his original memories, the origins of Taoism here started from ancient nature worship, shamanistic arts, and using talismans and spells for healing (Note 1). Thus, there were many deities related to nature, such as those governing wind, rain, thunder, lightning, the four seasons, and even various diseases…

But underworld gods? None at all.

It seemed that when people died here, that was it—they were just gone.

Shen Yuan figured it might be because books and the right to learn were held by the noble families. Even if there were relevant records, the upper class kept to their own rituals but wouldn’t bother informing the common folk.

After all, they didn't even have paper books here—they used bamboo slips. There was no imperial examination system either, so ordinary people had no opportunity to learn to read.

The gap between classes was stark, and knowledge was hoarded by the elite.

"When people die, their spirits linger, though the living can’t see or feel them. Spirits shouldn’t stick around the living, as they can harm the living’s health, and the living’s vitality can also scorch the spirits."

Shen Yuan’s voice was clear and steady as he explained in detail, word by word.

"A grave is their home in death, giving the spirits a place to return to. A cenotaph requires clothing worn by the deceased, preferably something they wore often. Then, their loved ones bury it; while burying it, remember to silently recite the deceased’s name and their birth date and time. Say your home address clearly, asking them to come home. After repeating it several times, walk from the grave back home, continuously reciting the name and birth details. Then return from home to the grave without stopping the recitation. This way, the deceased will know where their cenotaph is in relation to home. It’s like showing their spirit the way home."

Shen Yuan made it sound detailed and complicated on purpose, thinking it would sound more convincing and believable.

Sure enough, after hearing this, Old Man Xu eagerly asked, "Young man, where did you hear this? Is it true?"

Shen Yuan thought about saying he pieced it together from various odd things he’d read in his previous life, but then his eyes lit up with an idea.

"My parents said a wandering Taoist gave me my name and said I had a connection to the divine. Yesterday, I fainted, and when I woke up, I knew things I hadn’t before. Maybe that connection manifested. I learned about cenotaphs and spirits after fainting yesterday."

The story of the Taoist naming him was known to everyone in Dashu Village.

Back when times weren’t so hard and the Shen family elders were still alive, neighbors would joke with him, asking if he’d encountered any divine connections yet.

Shen Yuan wasn’t afraid of the old man asking around in the village—his explanation held up.

Old Man Xu hadn’t expected the young man before him to have such a miraculous experience. But then again, without such a divine connection, how else would he know such things?

When people want to believe something, even if it’s full of holes, they’ll find ways to justify it themselves.

Finally having a way to channel his longing, Old Man Xu was overjoyed. So his sons could still return—had they been waiting to come home for a long time?

It was all his fault for not knowing these things, leaving his children drifting outside for so long, unable to return home.

It was his failing as a father.

"Young man, I want to build cenotaphs for my sons. Could you help oversee it?" Old Man Xu cautiously asked Shen Yuan. "I’ll pay you. However much you want, I’ll find a way to give it to you."

Shen Yuan gently shook his head. "No need for money. Just choose a burial date and come find me in Dashu Village beforehand."

"I must pay, I must," Old Man Xu muttered, his weathered face carrying a glimmer of hope. Shen Yuan didn’t say more—the old man’s mind was elsewhere, and he wouldn’t listen anyway.

After accompanying Old Man Xu to the pharmacy to get medicine, Shen Yuan saw the time was about right. He bid Old Man Xu farewell to meet Wang Sanhu at the grain shop.

Before leaving, Old Man Xu repeated that once he decided on a date, he would go to Dashu Village to find Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan nodded in agreement.

When Shen Yuan arrived at the grain shop, he found Wang Sanhu was already there and had bought his grain.

Shen Yuan had already decided what to buy, so he quickly had the shop assistant weigh it out.

After their purchases, the two headed back to Dashu Village together.

Going home.

With his arms full of food, Shen Yuan felt happy. He was determined to have a hearty meal with his younger siblings when he got back.

Author’s Note:

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Note 1: Baidu