Chapter 35: Die After Getting Your Fix?

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Fang Laique lifted a bronze gong and struck it vigorously. He didn't realize how serious the matter was; he only felt that being surrounded by a huge crowd of onlookers in Chang'an was immensely glorious.

On both sides of the over‑120‑meter‑wide Chunming Gate Street, crowds stood packed, watching them go by.

The bodies of the three princes sentenced to death were, astonishingly, being taken away for burial in defiance of the ban.

The onlookers mostly admired Fang Chongyong's party's bravery, yet worried they would be later repaid by Li Longji, even "settled on the spot," and therefore dared not openly support them all the way.

So they could only watch the drama from the side.

The most awkward were the Jinwu Guard, who usually maintain order in Chang'an.

If they blocked Fang Chongyong's party's path, they would not only be scorned by mainstream public opinion, but also likely incur Li Longji's sudden wrath.

The imperial edict was brief and did not specify how outsiders should handle the burial of the three bodies; after all, when Li Longji issued the order, he never expected such "bastard" people to exist.

If the Jinwu Guard followed Fang Chongyong's party, it would look like they were escorting those "troublemakers," effectively slapping Li Longji in the face.

Fang Chongyong and his group are outsiders, so their actions would be seen as driven by "righteousness"; the Jinwu Guard, however, are elite troops, and any hint of dissent would be swiftly dealt with by Li Longji.

Are you loyal followers of the former Crown Prince, sending him off?

Or are you loyal followers of other princes, stirring up trouble?

Or perhaps you resent the saint, so you stand beside them to protest and slap him in the face?

It's like in a crowded subway, where a little fairy falsely accuses the greasy middle‑aged man next to her.

You raise both hands, intending to touch me.

You lower both hands, intending to sneakily touch me.

You place both hands on your neck, making a lewd gesture to ogle me.

Anyway it's all your fault, greasy man, you real shrimp head!

The greasy man may be oily, but he's not a pervert; it's just that some "baseless" rules were twisted, leading to absurd situations.

By the same logic, under the imperial authority's unwritten rule of "no mercy for killers," the Jinwu Guard soldiers who usually flaunt their power in Chang'an now linger like evading plague gods, staying behind the ox‑cart and not daring to get close.

They stay at least a hundred meters apart.

Not following is not an option; Li Longji would deem it "deliberately letting thieves insult the royal house," and they'd suffer the same penalty.

At that moment, a young man in a gray round‑collared hemp robe and a blue cap ran to Fang Chongyong's side and whispered, "The monk from the Longevity Workshop, the coffin and banner from the Huaiyuan Workshop, the paper money from the Fengyi Workshop and the Taoist, are all ready. Go to the Daixian Workshop to wash the body into the coffin, then head outside the city for burial."

This time you really went big; your name is already famous throughout Chang'an.

In one breath he ran to the four wards near Yanping Gate, gathering all the one-stop funeral services needed by commoners, but it wore him out.

That man was Li Kui, who would only become a distant relative of Fang Chongyong after several winding years.

As for why both a monk and a Taoist were hired for the rites?

Li Kui didn't understand either; Fang Chongyong simply instructed that the burial fee for each body totaled five hundred strings, with no bargaining.

These unscrupulous merchants find excuses to hike prices; after all, no one will take on a business that offends the emperor!

Fang Chongyong could pull out half the wealth in his small treasury at once, which was indeed generous.

"Once you board this ship, you can't get off until you reach the end. Now you're in trouble; the Son of Heaven is angry, and I think your imperial examination is doomed."

Fang Chongyong couldn't help teasing Li Kui, saying that if possible, he didn't intend to drag Li Kui into the water.

He wanted to pull Li Kui into the water only to make him a witness, proving that his effort to bring Wang Zhongsi back to Chang'an and be tasked with a frontier mission involved great exertion, even risking his life to "open a channel."

He also wanted Wang Zhongsi's wife, Lady Li, i. e., his mother‑in‑law's side, the Li clan of Guzang in Longxi, to understand: you too are being dragged into the water; if trouble arises, don't stand by, but muster all effort to rescue me!

"I heard Minister Zhang might be dismissed; I've followed Zhang's path, and if we don't come, the imperial exam is probably hopeless. Better to gamble on this."

Li Kui leaned close to Fang Chongyong's ear and whispered, "Such glory, even if you're beaten to death on the spot, will go down in history; what's there not to gamble on?"

Your political insight is impressive!

Fang Chongyong gave Li Kui a slightly surprised glance and nodded in agreement.

Li Kui's political foresight indeed far surpassed that of Zhang Xun and Xu Yuan. Those two joined the affair purely out of righteousness, whereas Li Kui saw part of Fang Chongyong's scheme.

This wave, seemingly high‑risk, is actually as steady as Mount Tai in political investment, and not everyone can discern its crux.

A decision made in emotion often contrasts sharply with rational analysis over time; Li Longji now faces a similar situation.

The thrill is fleeting; the pain endures.

Even a former Crown Prince, a deposed and sentenced one, or any royal prince, is not subject to the casual gawking and ridicule of Chang'an's common folk! It's an inherent class oppression!

In his previous life, Fang Chongyong was a corrupt imperial guard who stepped on a little girl, a typical example. The royalty is inherently lofty, and Li Longji must preserve that face.

【48】 Li Longji will eventually realize that his brutal act of killing three princes in one day not only failed to intimidate the treacherous, but also set a terribly bad precedent for the fierce political struggles of the Tianbao era.

He rushed through the four workshops near Yanping Gate in one breath, gathering the full suite of funeral services civilians need, and it exhausted him.

A tiger's poison doesn't eat its own cubs; let alone a saint.

This is a justification Li Longji must give to the world, and it concerns the foundation of his governing legitimacy.

If he killed his son without explanation and then exposed the corpse at a relay station for passersby to view, it would appear even more tyrannical.

The idle gossip mocking Li Longji's cruelty will surely reach his ears. When that time comes, how the group that first stepped forward to collect the Three Princes' bodies should be dealt with still needs further discussion.

One can trust that once Li Longji calms down, he will see through this piece.

Moreover, Fang Chongyong also considered another point: their act of collecting and burying the three condemned princes aligns with the public morals of Tang society at the time.

When a person dies, their crimes are erased; the coffin is sealed, and burial brings peace—an unspoken rule universally accepted, from noble aristocrats to the humblest commoners.

Even if an entire family is annihilated, people generally would not desecrate a corpse, crush bones, and scatter ashes.

The world will only worry about Fang Chongyong's future, feel general sympathy for the severe retaliation they might face, and will not think Fang Chongyong is meddling, nor that they are crazily kowtowing to the Li imperial clan and bending to the powerful.

Fang Chongyong vaguely recalled that later Emperor Suzong, Li Heng, seemed to posthumously rehabilitate Li Ying and the other two, and chose a proper burial site for reinterment. This aptly shows that restoring socially proper matters to their rightful path is a common modest wish.

At this moment, Gao Lishi watched the ox‑cart hauling the Three Princes' bodies head toward Yanping Gate, but he did not step forward to block it.

Gao Lishi is usually reliable; stepping forward now would be like a rogue forcibly abducting a civilian woman in broad daylight, sullying Li Longji's reputation for three hundred miles.

He guessed Fang Chongyong's party would certainly stay at the four neighborhoods near Yanping Gate, handle the funeral, then leave Yanping Gate for the outer‑city burial area to inter the bodies. There's no hurry to convey Li Longji's decree now; after Fang Chongyong's party buries Li Ying and the others, coming to find them won't be too late.

Indeed, Gao Shang also thought that Li Longji's action greatly damaged the Li Tang imperial clan's face, struck the royal family's cohesion, and was actually an entirely unnecessary move.

Former Crown Prince, that is still a Crown Prince! Also the royal face! How could he be treated like a stray dog that died in a gutter, hung on a suburban inn's beam?

Isn't this telling those with ill intent, even imperial clan members or princes, that as long as they have a chance, they can trample at will?

If today they trample the corpses of imperial clan members, tomorrow will they think they can sit on the emperor's throne themselves?

"Alas, it need not have come to this."

Gao Shang sighed, moved silently through the onlooking crowd, and watched helplessly as they entered the Changshou Neighborhood near Yanping Gate.

……

The entire Tang funeral process, if divided finely, consists of twenty‑six steps, each with clear, strict regulations; the overall procedure is extremely complex.

But Fang Chongyong clearly does not have that much time to complete it all.

The preliminary steps—initial mourning, soul‑summoning, issuing mourning notices, guarding the mourners, escorting the mourners, setting the spirit seat, etc. —are all omitted; they go straight to treating the coffin and casket.

The funeral shops and temple Taoist halls belonging to the four neighborhoods act together, busily working inside Daixian Neighborhood!

Money can make ghosts grind the mill; one thousand five hundred strings to bury three people—this kind of business is rare.

Bathing, corpse‑ripping, feeding, bright banners, small collection, large collection, final dressing—done in one breath! Everyone assumes his own duty, alternating the tasks.

After everything is finished, the three bodies lying in the coffin are already dressed in funeral robes, their faces made up, looking as if they are peacefully asleep—not the ferocious, terrifying sight seen the first time at the Eastern City Inn.

From ancient times to the present, the funeral industry has endured, not merely due to feudal superstition, but also encompassing people's reflections on life and death and their care for the departed.

Fang Chongyong watches the three corpses change from ferocious to peaceful, gaining many life insights he would not share with outsiders.

This one thousand five hundred strings buys a few life philosophies. In the end, is it profit or a loss of blood?

A strange thought arises in Fang Chongyong's mind.

He does this, of course, to not wake the pretended‑asleep Li Longji.

Yet the fundamental purpose of this trip is not for that.

Operating the matter of Wang Zhongsi requires a channel. Fang Chongyong admits Li's point; he knows he has no channel, or rather the channel belongs to his father Fang Youde.

So he must rely on his own strength to open a channel that can influence central decisions. Deposing the Crown Prince is currently the only chance; otherwise he would have to go straight to Li Linfu and be manipulated by him.

"Sir, selecting the burial site, choosing the funeral day, opening the ancestral mourning, arranging the carriage position, setting the vessels, dispatching the funeral procession, presenting the bright vessels—these steps…"

Li Kui leaned in, hesitantly asking, implying that these steps either lack time, lack funds, or should be omitted if possible.

For example, "presenting the bright vessels" involves adding burial goods.

Ordinary burial goods are easy, but these three are not ordinary people. If the burial goods are too cheap, it violates protocol and will be criticized; better to give none. If they prepare precious bright vessels, Li Longji might have ideas.

Providing funeral rites for the three deposed princes is good, but a grand, special ceremony might be mocking Li Longji for killing them, no?

If the intensity is not mastered, excess will be courting death.

"Omit everything, let the funeral convoy set out, prepare for interment."

Fang Chongyong decided on the spot, without any hesitation.

"Um, the western funeral house is willing to provide free elegy services; sir, should…"

Li Kui asked, a little intrigued. The so‑called "elegy" service means a group sings funeral dirges during the procession and burial.

Chang'an is not only the political, economic and cultural center, but also excels in many other fields; even its funeral standards are outstanding.

Among the many individual operators of this business, two are the largest, monopolizing the trade. The industry was then called "xiongsi", essentially a funeral service center.

One "xiongsi" is in the east, the other in the west, hence the names East "xiongsi" and West "xiongsi".

Today the West "xiongsi" is handling Fang Chongyong's funeral affairs, and the four surrounding neighborhoods all run related supporting businesses.

"Um, no need. The play is over; now is the time for discretion."

Fang Chongyong whispered to Li Kui.

Soon, the funeral convoy set off, and the front‑most, addicted to showing off, Fang Laique rushed over with an excited face and asked:

"Sir, should we still strike the gong?"

"If you don't want to die, shut up and put the drums away! Careful, the sage will smash your dog‑head with his gong!"

Fang Chongyong scolded, his face unexpectedly pale.

"Oh."

Fang Laique reluctantly gathered up the bronze gongs and other items.

Fang Chongyong watched the convoy depart, standing alone before the West "xiongsi" gate, looking at the couplet written on the two sides of the main gate:

The left side reads: "Man has no thousand‑year lifespan."

The right side reads: "In my place there is longevity."

"That couplet is indeed sincere, I wonder what the sage will think upon seeing it."

Fang Chongyong couldn't help but sigh.

"The sage also knows that man has no thousand‑year lifespan; you, however, have surprised me greatly."

From behind Fang Chongyong came a slightly sharp high‑pitched voice; he turned, seeing a middle‑aged man in light‑yellow palace robes, smiling ambiguously.

"Elder?"

Fang Chongyong asked hesitantly, already guessing his identity.

"Just a slave of the sage's household, but you, son of Fang Quanzhong, how could you do such a thing?"

The speaker was none other than Gao Shang!

"Since the elder knows, there's no need to ask further."

Fang Chongyong sighed.

"I once saw you years ago, then thought you were hopelessly foolish; meeting you today, I am truly astonished."

After speaking, Gao Shang lightly waved his hand, and several Jinwu guards stepped forward to surround Fang Chongyong.

Bring them to the Dali Temple for trial; don't be negligent.

After speaking, Gao Lishi turned and returned to the Daming Palace, preparing to report to Li Longji.