......

Handling a funeral is a very exhausting affair.

It wears people down.

Time wears people down.

Emotions also wear people down.

At the very least, the body must lie in state for several days, and an auspicious date must be chosen for burial to ensure peace for the deceased.

If it's a youth who died prematurely, there are even more customs to observe.

The Jiang family still invited the masters from Qingyuan Temple to perform the funeral rites.

In the past, these masters wouldn't leave their mountain. Only the wealthy would go to make offerings, spending lavishly. To have them come down to perform rites was a privilege reserved for the elite and extremely expensive.

However, since the rebels came and Jiang Er took power, he showed no reverence for them. His first act was to make them pay taxes.

Even Buddha had to pay taxes now.

If they didn't pay, he would lead a group to train in front of the temple every day.

This scared away all the worshippers.

So now they accept cheaper jobs too, after all, even Buddha needs to make a living.

Every peck and sip is part of the cycle of karma.

If the monks still charged their previous rates, the Jiang family certainly couldn't afford to have them perform the rites now. But since they have to pay taxes and make a living, they've lowered their prices, so the Jiang family can still afford them.

In fact, seeing these fat monks, Jiang Wan couldn't help but wonder if they could return some of the money she and her grandmother had donated as oil money for the incense, even just half, no, even a third would do.

So much money - even a tenth of it would be enough to live quite well now.

Jiang Wan, who had never experienced hardship before, now found it incredible to think back on how she and her grandmother could have donated so much oil money to a Buddha who couldn't even speak - enough for an ordinary person to live several lifetimes.

Of course, asking Buddha for a refund was just a thought. Jiang Wan wasn't so tactless as to actually do it.

The big monks were singing and dancing.

Not as good as the one he had chosen for Rong'er.

Who had dared to switch the coffins? It was too much.

He stood up and walked forward, only to find that the person lying inside wasn't Rong'er, but actually Jiang Feng.

He just wanted to laugh out loud. Although it was his nephew, at this moment he actually felt happy and relieved.

It wasn't Rong'er, Rong'er wasn't dead, it was Jiang Feng who had died.

He looked up and suddenly saw a madwoman rush in front of him, trying to kill him.

Startled, luckily he had guards, and it took four strong guards to restrain her.

It was actually a woman.

It was his sister-in-law, who seemed to have gone crazy, screaming and howling, demanding he pay with his life.

Even four people had difficulty restraining her. She completely disregarded propriety between men and women, her clothes torn in the struggle, still howling there like a wild beast.

He saw his brother, dressed in shabby, tattered clothes, come forward to embrace the woman, calling, "Sister Xia, Sister Xia."

Only then did she slowly calm down.

Jiang Huaisheng left the mourning hall with his guards. It was too desolate here, frightening.

He felt as if Jiang Feng in that thin coffin still had consciousness and was watching him.

He left, but still felt someone staring at his back.

He turned around and saw his brother leaning against the coffin, holding a woman who was like a wild beast, looking at him.

The white curtains fluttered, occasionally obscuring his blood-red eyes.

He felt a lump in his throat, terrified, and when he returned home, he begged his mother to go to the capital together.

Finally, they left Ming County, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

As the carriage rocked, he fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes, he was still in the mourning hall.