Chapter 65: Funeral

In Knowing the North it is recorded: "Human life is the gathering of qi; when gathered there is life, when scattered there is death. If life and death are merely trivial, what do I have to worry about?"

Human life and death are merely a temporary gathering and scattering of qi; when qi gathers there is life, when it scatters there is death; life and death are merely different manifestations of qi at various stages of a living being.

If this breath never dissipates, does it mean that even if the flesh returns to nothingness, the spirit can still be preserved?

Zhuangzi believed that life and death are nothing more than the gathering and scattering of qi; then what exactly is this so-called "qi"?

In the Third Realm, heaven and earth refine qi; what is it that they refine?

Could there be any connection between the two?

Carrying various doubts, Ye Qin sank into deeper meditation.

A breath was deeply hidden within his body, continuously circulating.

At this moment he had already entered the Third Realm; regarding whether his lifespan could be extended, he no longer cared.

To hear the Dao in the morning, to die in the evening is sufficient.

Ye Qin's heart held no regrets whatsoever; even life and death were not in his eyes.

This transcendent, worldly-detached feeling made his exhausted spirit become extraordinarily lively, even increasing somewhat, continually advancing toward the void without cease.

Those gray substances, together with his spirit, roamed in all directions, constantly exploring the void, making Ye Qin's soul feel extremely comfortable, to the point of being utterly exhilarating.

And in reality.

Ye Qin had already closed his eyes; the whole snake coiled in place, its scales dull and lifeless, appearing as if dead.

The surrounding small animals formed a ring around him, like stars surrounding the moon, with glistening tears, their expressions showing a human-like sorrow.

Moonlight fell upon Ye Qin's body, as if seeing him off, appearing as if conducting some ancient sacrificial rite.

And at the mountain foot, the woman lying in bed was already as faint as a wisp of breath.

As her condition worsened, even with medication sustaining her body, it was of no avail; she had lain in bed for many days, unable to get up and walk normally.

That day, she seemed to sense something, and summoned the village head and his entourage, as well as Hu Xiaocao.

Hu Xiaocao clung tightly to the woman's icy hand, tears glistening, her eyes already red from crying, "Mom, don't leave me; Xiaocao will be good and obedient."

The woman raised her hand, as if wanting to touch her head, but her hands had no strength and fell limp; she could only helplessly give up.

"Cough cough, Xiaocao be good; from now on you must listen to the village elder and others; Mom will be gone, you must take good care of yourself, and also regularly worship the Mountain God."

The woman spoke intermittently, coughing continuously, to the point that one feared she might run out of breath mid-sentence.

"Hu family girl, you rest first."

The woman shook her head, her pallid face contrasting with her reddened eye sockets, "I'm afraid if I don't say it now, I'll never get another chance."

She looked toward the village head, her expression full of pleading.

"Village head, after I'm gone, please look after Xiaocao more; she is also pitiful, having lost her father since childhood, and now I too must leave."

The village head hastily nodded, promising: "That is natural."

He paused, his voice choking with emotion, reluctantly saying: "After you're gone, we all will take good care of Xiaocao; you can rest assured."

"Village head, plus Uncle Zhang and Aunt Li, these past years I've owed you greatly for looking after me and my daughter; your great kindness I cannot repay in this life, I can only serve you as an ox or horse in the next."

Beside her, a short, stout woman wiped the tears from her eyes, her eye sockets reddened without cease.

"Hu family girl, what are you saying? We're fellow villagers; saying this makes you sound distant. Rest assured, I'll treat Xiaocao as my own child and look after her."

"Thank you so much."

The woman had never read a book, lacked education, and could only repeatedly express thanks, hoping that after her death the villagers would look after Xiaocao even more.

A mother, at the end of her life, still exhausts herself for her child.

"Xiaocao, Mom also owes you an apology; this frail, sickly body has delayed you, and in the future I cannot accompany you; you must definitely listen to everyone."

After saying these words, the woman seemed to have expended all her strength; her face grew even paler, her breathing became rapid.

Hu Xiaocao cried uncontrollably, sobbing and pleading with the woman not to leave.

Although it was already summer, the woman's body temperature was inexplicably low.

Hu Xiaocao rubbed the woman's hands hard, trying to warm her body, but to no effect.

Everyone present, seeing this scene, was moved.

Aunt Li took hold of Hu Xiaocao, wiping tears while comforting: "Xiaocao be good; your mother is just overly tired, she needs to rest well."

Usually well-behaved Hu Xiaocao, at this moment appeared somewhat stubborn.

"You're lying; if Mom rests she'll never wake again, just like Dad."

Previously, Hu Xiaocao did not understand what death meant.

Mom told her that Dad had gone to a faraway place; whenever Hu Xiaocao thought of Dad, she would sit at the village entrance, gazing and waiting.

But she waited from dawn till dusk, yet never saw that familiar figure.

When she later asked again, Mom told her that Dad had become a little star, now watching her from the sky.

Hu Xiaocao then moved a small stool, sat in the courtyard, lifted her head to gaze at the full sky of stars, hoping to find the star belonging to Dad.

There were too many stars in the sky; Hu Xiaocao cried anxiously, yet still could not find it.

After that, she knew Dad had died and would not return; from that time onward, little Hu Xiaocao's mind held the concept of death.

But now Mom too must go like Dad; at such a tender age, how could she accept these successive blows?

Hu Xiaocao's eye sockets were red; she could bear it no longer and ran out.

"Xiaocao!"

Aunt Li Shenzi originally wanted to pursue, but the village head stopped her: "Let the child go; Xiaocao's heart is bitter."

Seeing that the woman was already critically ill, and Xiaocao still young, the villagers could only help prepare the funeral arrangements in advance, awaiting the day the woman breathed her last to bury her.

Old Zhang, the coffin maker from the eastern village, whose skill is beyond reproach, quality good and price fair, knowing the mother and daughter's circumstances were poor, upon learning the woman had little time left, without a word made a coffin for free.

Soon white banners were hung inside and outside the courtyard, along with items needed for the funeral; everyone entering or leaving the courtyard bore expressions full of heaviness.

The courtyard was filled with a suffocating aura of death, almost pressing Hu Xiaocao so she could barely breathe.

She blankly watched the villagers bustling in and out, her eyes swollen like walnuts, and she hadn't eaten for most of the day.

Li Dashen couldn't stand it, brought over a bowl of rice with an egg lying on top, and also added a large chunk of sizzling oily cured meat, making one's appetite surge.

If it were usual, Hu Xiaocao would definitely devour it without hesitation, but now she just blankly stared at the woman's room in a daze.

It's like a kind of avoidance mentality; as long as Hu Xiaocao doesn't look, her mother will remain there.

She was really afraid; upon entering the room again, what she saw was her mother's eternally sleeping visage.

(End of chapter)