Chapter 60

At a road one hundred meters from the Sun family's residence, the Sun family had set up a table specifically to receive and direct guests.

Ahead of them walked an old man in patched clothes, hunched over, tightly holding the hand of a seven- or eight-year-old boy; the boy's clothes had fewer patches but were still sewn with several mends, though they were clean.

The old man led his grandson to the table and said, "I'm from Niutou Village. Master Sun built us a bridge—I've come to see him off."

Upon hearing this, the Guanshi let him in and pointed the way: "Cry at the gate, then go eat by the road behind the village."

The old man agreed, fumbled in his clothes, pulled out two wen coins as a gift for the Guanshi, then led his grandson inside.

Tao Ji had an invitation; he handed the Sun family's invitation to the Guanshi, who immediately summoned someone and said respectfully, "The Daoist may proceed directly to the mortuary chamber; on the eastern side, other monks and Daoists are already waiting—someone will attend to you there."

Tao Ji agreed, handed over his mule and cart to the Guanshi for arrangement, then picked up their bundles and headed toward the Sun residence.

The Sun family's main gate was draped in white mourning cloth; the wailing inside had paused for a moment; when they arrived at the gate, the grandfather and grandson had just arrived.

The old man pulled his grandson down to kneel, bowed three times toward the interior, then burst into loud weeping—his cries distant and sorrowful, with an odd rhythm, half-sung, half-chanted, recounting Master Sun's good deeds and his grief and longing for the man's passing…

Seeing Pan Yun listening intently, Wang Feiyin grabbed her hand and pulled her inside: "Come on, let's go meet our fellow practitioners."

The Sun family hadn't invited just one sect of Daoists—indeed, they hadn't invited only Daoists; they'd also invited monks and nuns.

Now that Buddhists and Daoists shared the same space, as Wang Feiyin and his group arrived, a young man in full mourning attire approached with the Guanshi and said, "Our late master has passed; our family is heartbroken. If we've neglected any courtesy, please forgive us."

All Buddhists and Daoists immediately rose to return the bow, assuring that the Bodhisattva (and the Three Pure Ones) would not blame them.

The Sun family planned to use both traditions: Daoists would hold a ritual on the left, while monks would perform rites of deliverance on the right.

The sole purpose was to ensure Master Sun's peaceful passage, clear his path to the underworld, guarantee he'd lack nothing in the afterlife, lessen his attachments to the mortal world, and know his descendants were filial.

This sounded far from filial.

Especially since the Sun family demanded the coffin remain in place for seven days, and rituals be performed for the full seven days—each day, one Buddhist and one Daoist must join the Sun family's filial sons and grandsons in guarding the coffin.

Because of this, the ritual fees were calculated per person—and doubled!

Even Pan Yun and her group, who came merely to fill numbers and assist, received payment; thus, all the Daoists and Bodhisattvas agreed.

Wang Feiyin also wanted Pan Yun and the others to learn more; he had a well-planned strategy: "After you finish this funeral, you'll know how to conduct funeral rites, how filial sons and grandsons should guard the coffin and show filial piety—you'll be able to use all this when you descend the mountain. These are skills that put food on the table."

Pan Yun: "Do we also need to learn the rules of how filial sons and grandsons guard the coffin and show filial piety?"

"Of course," Wang Feiyin said. "How to place the coffin, how filial sons and grandsons should weep, how to offer incense, how to seal the coffin afterward, how to exit mourning—you must learn all of it."

Some people simply don't know these rules, and their families have no elders to teach them—you can earn money from them."

"Also, feng shui, determining auspicious departure times—all can be livelihoods," Wang Feiyin said as he opened his bundle. "Remember, we Daoists are different from ordinary children—we have no home, no clan. The only thing we can rely on is ourselves. Don't think being a cultivator makes you special—we have only a little more than ordinary people, but we've lost far more."

Pan Yun didn't yet fully grasp this, but Seeing Miao Zhen and Monk understood instantly, their expressions thoughtful.

Wang Feiyin patted their heads and said, "Go fetch water—we must bathe and cleanse our hands before setting up the ritual altar."

Pan Yun and the others had come to assist; they immediately went out to find servants and asked where to get water.

Tao Yanbai, experienced, spotted a young Daoist acolyte emerging from a nearby room and sprinted off: "Quick—"

Pan Yun and the others reacted swiftly and dashed after him.

The young Daoist acolyte and the young monks and nuns who emerged saw them and also bolted.

Pan Yun's group ran fastest, leading the pack, quickly seizing four wooden buckets, then rushing to the boiling-water area to scoop water.

The servant woman tending the fire, upon learning the water was for the Daoists' ritual, though displeased, still let them take it.

Pan Yun and the others filled four full buckets of hot water; the pursuing young Daoist acolyte and monks and nuns found only three remaining buckets—nowhere near enough—and turned to glare at Pan Yun's group.

Pan Yun stared straight ahead, left hand gripping her own bucket, right hand grabbing one side of Monk's bucket, and gave Tao Yanbai a look: "What are you waiting for? Senior brothers are waiting for hot water."

Tao Yanbai snapped out of it, stepped forward to help Seeing Miao Zhen carry half the bucket, and the four of them carried the four buckets back in pairs.

First victory achieved, Wang Feiyin was satisfied; after bathing and cleansing, he personally taught them how to use various ritual tools, how to build the ritual altar, how to calculate auspicious times…

In truth, everyone just watched them work; once they finished, a Guanshi came to lead them out for meals.

Night had fallen, shadows barely visible; the grandfather and grandson who had been weeping outside the gate were gone—they'd gone to eat. When Pan Yun emerged after her meal, she saw them kneeling outside the gate, bowing toward the mortuary chamber.

Pan Yun stopped in her tracks and asked Wang Feiyin, "Senior brother, was Master Sun a great good man?"

Wang Feiyin also saw the pair and said, "What makes a man good? What makes him bad? I don't know Master Sun's life, but to this grandfather and grandson, he must have been good."

Pan Yun fell into thought.

A Guanshi had also noticed the pair; soon another Guanshi came out to lead them to the temporary mortuary pavilion outside: "Our third young master heard you came all the way from Niutou Village to mourn—he was deeply moved. Tonight, you'll stay in the pavilion; leave after lunch tomorrow."

Pan Yun watched them walk away; when Wang Feiyin saw them gone, he turned and said, "Come, I'll guard the coffin with the Sun family's filial sons and grandsons tonight—will you join me?"

Pan Yun agreed and immediately followed.

She was curious about this newly deceased Master Sun—dead, he was already so wealthy; how much richer must he have been in life?

How enviable—some are born wealthy, die wealthy, never suffer a single hardship in their lives.

As Pan Yun stepped into the mortuary chamber, she heard a string of furious curses: "Unfilial son, foolish coward—don't you dare weep for me, don't you dare—"

Pan Yun looked up and saw a ghost standing atop the coffin, spitting saliva as he pointed at a middle-aged man seated on a mat, screaming.

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The middle-aged man remained oblivious, wiping tears as he burned paper money in the fire basin; whenever guests came to pay respects, he wailed occasionally and dabbed his eyes.

Guests entering to offer incense sighed and comforted him.

Wang Feiyin saw Pan Yun frozen at the door; he tugged her, glanced quickly at the coffin lid, then casually pulled her to a corner, handed her a cushion, and sat cross-legged on his own: "Don't look. Tonight, we only need to guard the mortuary chamber."

Pan Yun glanced at her senior brother, then sat cross-legged too—right, Master Xuanmiao could see Zhou Wang; it wasn't strange that Senior Brother saw Master Sun.

Sitting on the cushion, Pan Yun's left ear heard guests praising the Sun family's filial piety: "Your father knows you're filial—this funeral is so well done, he can rest in peace."

Her right ear heard Master Sun on the coffin lid spit and curse: "You blind fool, where do you see filial piety?

This funeral used all my money—I paid for my own funeral! How filial of you! I hope your own descendants do the same to you—when you die, use your money to hire monks and Daoists to suppress your ghost…"

Pan Yun's eyebrows twitched; Wang Feiyin frowned.

The two senior and junior disciples exchanged a glance and began to carefully examine the mortuary chamber.

After careful searching, they truly found talismans for exorcising spirits hidden among the many funeral and blessing charms.

Wang Feiyin's displeasure rose; he sat up straight.

Taking people's money and dispelling their disasters is the proper way; by the same logic, dispelling disasters without taking payment is not a path that can last.

What they took was money for performing rites and sending the dead to rebirth, but what the Sun family did was spirit-suppression work—the price isn't the same, and the karmic consequences aren't the same either.

Taking payment for one share of work but making them bear a hundred shares of karmic responsibility—even a losing business can't be run that way.

Wang Feiyin fished a handful of roasted soybeans from his sleeve, quietly pinched up one with his right hand, flicked it with a whoosh, and it struck dead-center on the talisman script of a spirit-suppression talisman; the script was pierced and broken, and the talisman instantly lost all its effect.

She had only just pinched up a copper coin when Pan Yun, who was secretly plotting mischief, saw what was happening, immediately tucked her own money away, quickly glanced left and right, saw no one paying attention to them, and at once grabbed a handful of soybeans from Wang Feiyin's palm.

Wang Feiyin turned his head to look at her and said wordlessly: You grabbed too many.

Pan Yun, in turn, looked at his sleeve—was it empty?

The two held a silent exchange for a while, then turned their heads back to face forward together, each pinched up a soybean, and their two pairs of eyes swept across the talismans pasted all around the room like searchlights in the dark of night; whenever they spotted one, they flicked it, and before long, a full quarter of the talismans visible to the eye inside the room had been ruined.

But no one noticed either, because every talisman had simply been pierced through the middle with a soybean-sized hole.

Master Sun on the coffin lid had cursed himself hoarse, and only then stopped; he hopped down off the coffin lid still muttering curses, "I don't believe it—I still can't get out? I… huh?"

Master Sun stepped over the threshold; he lowered his head in some surprise to look at his own feet, then turned back to look at the mourning hall.

He thought for a moment, then hopped another step outward, and finding that he wasn't bounced back like before, he couldn't help laughing out loud in delight, "Pathetic lot—with the likes of you, you still want to pin down your lord here? Your daddy is still your daddy."

He gave his sleeve a flick, clasped his hands behind his back, and strode out with an air of lordly importance.

The lucky number for this chapter is a number ending in 9; screenshot as proof

(End of chapter)