Chapter 67: Uncle, I Don

Sun Dachang had objections, but when he met Qian Master’s warning gaze, he couldn’t speak, and so the matter was settled.

Qian Master took out a box, pulled out the land deeds for two hundred mu, and handed them to the village elder: “Everyone knows how much the founding emperor valued education. Since the Sun family’s public school was established in the twenty-eighth year of Hongwu, it has been forty-seven years—during which, the Sun family village has produced two Provincial Graduates and twelve Licentiates.”

Now, only five Licentiates remain in the village. If you don’t seize this moment to let the children study hard, what will happen when those five Licentiates grow old and die? Will the Sun family village decline into ruin?”

The village head perked up, his entire demeanor turning solemn. He said gravely: “Qian Master, you think far ahead—you’ve devoted much thought to our Sun family village.”

Qian Master shook his head. “This isn’t my idea—it’s my brother-in-law’s concern. The Sun family is still a branch of the Sun clan; one prospers, all prosper; one falls, all fall. My nephews here are poor students with short sight, nowhere near their father’s caliber.”

My sister-in-law passed away too early, too suddenly—many matters were left unfinished. It falls to me to take up this burden and fulfill his final wishes.”

Both of the will’s provisions strongly favored the Sun clan and the Sun family village; the village elders and the village head both expressed agreement and admiration.

Ah, no wonder Sun Master favored Qian Master—Qian Master truly cared more for his family than his own sons did.

“The third provision is the division of assets,” Qian Master glanced at the five kneeling men, his face stern. “The Sun family holds no official status, no hereditary privilege. According to the Great Ming Code, aside from noble titles and official patronage, which pass to the eldest legitimate son, all other family assets must be divided equally among the sons.”

Upon hearing this, Sun Er and Sun San perked up, their eyes brightening; even the youngest, Sun Wuyi, lifted his head.

Sun Dachang’s eyes instantly reddened. Without thinking, he shouted: “No!”

Qian Master asked him: “Why not?”

“This goes against our ancestors’ teachings,” Sun Dachang said. “When my grandfather divided the estate, he gave my father seventy percent of the property, and my second and third uncles split the remaining thirty percent. Even further back, my great-grandfather gave my grandfather the larger share. Our family tradition has always been for the eldest son to receive more—I deserve at least seventy percent. Why should I split equally with them?”

“Because of this very speech!” Qian Master jabbed his finger at Sun Dachang’s nose. “Do you think your branch of the Sun family rose from nothing? It was built grain by grain, basket by basket, starting from your great-grandfather—three generations of accumulation, and only then did we reach this fortune!”

Your second and third uncles are right here—ask them how much they had to begin with, and how much they have now. What did your father do for them all these years?”

Qian Master: “‘A good elder brother, a respectful younger brother’—I’ve said this until I’m hoarse! Your great-grandfather gave more to your grandfather, your grandfather gave more to your father, because they knew your grandfather and father bore the responsibility of the eldest—they would care for their younger brothers, honor and support their parents, and grow the family fortune. What can you do?”

Qian Master spat as he pointed at Sun Dachang’s face. “If you’d only been capable, if you’d only had a broader heart, if your father had seen you capable of upholding the family, he’d never have planned to divide it this way!”

Sun Dachang, face flushed and voice hoarse, cried: “But my father never said he’d give me only twenty percent—he said he’d give me forty percent!”

Qian Master shouted: “Half of that forty percent belongs to your mother!”

Sun Dachang fell silent.

Qian Master’s face darkened. “That’s precisely what I’m saying—your parents must also be counted. Divide the estate into six shares. When your mother passes, you’ll divide her share equally among yourselves.”

Sun Dachang: “There’s never been such a division.”

Sun Er and Sun San whispered to each other: “We’ve never heard of a mother being included in the estate division.”

Sun Si and Sun Wu remained silent.

Even the village head and elders couldn’t help shaking their heads—they finally understood why Qian Master insisted on dividing the estate at the funeral and why he demanded a share for Sun Laoyi.

Seeing her brother’s face turning purple with rage, Sun Laoyi feared he’d suffer a stroke. She hurriedly said: “I’ll live with the eldest. My share…”

Qian Master: “Sister, don’t speak.”

Sun Laoyi obediently fell silent and sat back down.

Qian Master said: “I’m not asking your opinion. Your father—I would never let your mother live as a mere dependent among you. I declare this now: if you refuse to give your mother her share, as soon as the funeral ends, I’ll take her home. From then on, you won’t need to lift a finger for her—I’ll have Dahong care for her until her death.”

Sun Dachang trembled, immediately kowtowed, and cried out: “Uncle, you’re making the world point fingers at my back! I’m still alive, all five of us brothers are alive—how can we let our cousin care for Mother in her old age?”

Qian Master sneered.

Sun Er and his three brothers followed suit, kowtowing repeatedly, weeping, refusing.

Sun Dachang wiped his tears, turned, and knelt before Sun Laoyi. “Mother, say something! Are you truly going to leave with Uncle?”

Sun Laoyi looked at her eldest son with resentment and fury. When he leaned close, she, who had spent her life being gentle, slapped his face hard and spat: “Ungrateful son!”

The elders were stunned; Sun Er cried out in shock: “Big sister!”

Everyone knew his big sister was a soft-spoken, timid woman—he’d never seen her lose her temper in his life.

Sun Laoyi’s lips trembled. She couldn’t bring herself to say they’d driven her husband to death, so she said: “How dare you defy your uncle? Your uncle has been so good to you—you must listen to him.”

Her words were weak, clearly an excuse. The village head and elders grew more suspicious—could Sun Master’s death have been unnatural?

Sun Master suddenly leapt from his coffin, tears streaming, and walked to his wife’s side. He spoke tenderly: “Yuan Niang, I was wrong. I blamed you—I thought you watched me be driven to death by these ungrateful sons without speaking, and even allowed them to use the Spirit-Sealing Talismans on me. You hit well, you scolded well—keep hitting, keep scolding. Don’t fear their reputations—they don’t care. Why should you worry for them?”

Sun Laoyi had no idea her dead husband was whispering in her ear. After slapping and scolding him, she felt regret and fear, and instinctively turned to her brother.

Qian Master heard it, but ignored Sun Master, pressing on: “Just answer—will you give your mother her share?”

Sun Dachang covered his face and wept, turning to Sun Er and Sun San for support.

His family’s asset division—aside from Qian Master, his own uncle—Sun Er and Sun San held some authority.

But upon hearing Sun Dachang’s words, Sun Er and Sun San both frowned and said: “Your uncle is right. Your mother deserves a share. When she grows old, you can divide her portion then.”

Sun Dachang said: “Mother is already so old—she can’t till the fields or spin thread. Dividing land, houses, and shops would burden her with management. Why? I’ll care for her. If she needs anything, just tell me—I and my brothers will get it for her. No need for her to trouble herself.”

Sun Er said: “You have tenant farmers for the fields, hired laborers for weaving. Your mother has her dowry—she’s managed it all these years without issue. Her share will be managed the same way now as it will be later.”

He paused. “I know you’re filial, but I think your mother wouldn’t want to keep relying on her children. She should use what’s hers.”

Sun San nodded. “Exactly. If you’re already resisting giving your mother her share now, how can we trust you’ll be truly filial later?”

Sun Wuyi kowtowed: “Uncle, Second Uncle, Third Uncle—I agree to give Mother her share.”

Sun Dachang turned, his eyes threatening: “Little Wu!”

Sun Wuyi lowered his head and whispered: “It was Father’s wish.”

“You lie! When did Father ever say to give Mother a share? Her portion was always meant for me—I was to get forty percent alone!”

Qian Master: “So you want to follow your father’s original division?”

Sun Er immediately said: “Brother, weren’t you just refusing this division?”

Sun San: “I refuse too. By law, our estate must be divided equally. Why should you get forty percent alone?”

Sun Dachang wanted to change his mind and claim seventy percent, but he glanced around the funeral hall, saw his uncle’s expression, and silently knelt, saying nothing.

Qian Master waited until they’d all spoken before saying: “After all this time, Sun Er, Sun San, Sun Si—you three finally found your voices.”

The three instantly grew uneasy.

Qian Master casually pulled two yellow talismans from his sleeve and asked: “Do you know what these are?”

Aside from Sun Wu, who looked confused, everyone’s faces darkened.

Qian Master snorted: “Your father is right here. This new division follows his wishes.”

Sun Dachang and the others remained silent.

Qian Master: “Don’t believe me? Then let him tell you himself.”

He turned to Pan Yun, bowed, and said: “Little Immortal, please perform your art—let them see my brother-in-law, to prove I speak truth.”

Pan Yun stared at him silently for a moment, about to draw a talisman—when Qian Master suddenly added: “And the village head and elders—they are witnesses. They must see my brother-in-law too.”

Pan Yun: …

She scanned the room, then abandoned the talisman. Instead, she pulled out a handful of copper coins. “Fine, fine.”

Why draw talismans? So many people—was he trying to drain her spiritual power dry?

Better to set a large array and make the spirits appear directly.

Pan Yun dashed around the funeral hall, scattering copper coins.

Sun Dachang stared at his uncle with disbelief—he thought his uncle had gone mad from anger, concocting such a ridiculous scheme.

How could ghosts exist?

Sun Dachang thought so—and said so.

Qian Master watched him trembling, barely able to kneel. “If you don’t believe ghosts exist, why are you shaking? If you think your father’s spirit is gone, why did you stick those yellow talismans on him? Are you that bored?”

Sun Dachang trembled violently but still insisted: “Uncle, Confucius said: ‘The gentleman does not speak of spirits, strange powers, or disorder.’”

The lucky number for this chapter is any number ending in 1, screenshot as proof.

(End of Chapter)