Chapter 577: Long Time No See

Li Er led Kong Qiu, walking on a country path in LuGuo for two days.

On the evening of the third day, they arrived at a village.

The village was small, with twenty‑to‑thirty scattered households, hidden in dusk and cooking smoke.

Li Er stopped at the village entrance, his eyes falling on a fenced courtyard.

The thatched hut inside was old, the fence a bit crooked, yet it was kept fairly tidy.

A Wooden Plaque hung at the gate, bearing the character "Lü".

Li Er dismounted from the ox and pushed open the fence gate.

The courtyard was silent.

A woman was squatting by the well to wash, and when she heard footsteps, she looked up.

Seeing Li Er, she froze for a moment, then rose, wiped her hands on her apron, and wore a hint of puzzlement.

"Sir, are you…"

Li Er looked at her and let out a soft sigh.

"Is this the home of Lü Lian, Lord Lü?"

The woman nodded.

"Indeed. May I ask who you are…"

"I am an old friend of his, coming from Cheng Zhou."

The woman's eyes suddenly reddened.

She lowered her head, brushed the corner of her eye with her sleeve, and her voice was a little hoarse.

"Sir… you have come too late."

Li Er said nothing.

The woman sniffed and continued:

"My husband, Ah Weng, passed away a few days ago."

She turned and called into the house, "A Da, A Er, come out!"

Two half‑grown children ran out, one in his early teens, the other seven or eight, both clad in coarse hemp garments, their faces blank.

The woman said to them, "This is your husband's friend, from Cheng Zhou; quickly pay your respects."

The two children, bewildered, bowed to Li Er with somewhat clumsy movements.

Li Er bent, gently helped them up, then straightened and looked at the woman.

"Have the funeral arrangements been settled?"

The woman shook her head, her eyes reddening again.

"Not yet. Ah Weng left suddenly."

"We wanted the village elders to help, but they said there are too many funeral rites they don't understand; we must hire a Ritual Master to preside, and my husband was about to do so."

Li Er was silent for a moment.

Then he spoke.

"No need to hire one."

The woman lifted her head and looked at him.

Li Er said:

"I will."

The woman was stunned.

"Sir… you can…?"

Li Er nodded.

"I can."

He said no more, simply turned and walked toward the doorway.

Reaching the gate, he halted, glanced back at the child called A Da.

"Take me to see your Ah Weng."

……

Lü Lian's coffin rested in the center of the main hall.

In front of the coffin stood a low table bearing simple offerings: an oil lamp and several incense sticks.

The incense had burned out, leaving only short piles of gray ash.

Li Er stood before the coffin, silent for a long while.

Lü Lian was more than twenty years older than him; when they worked together in Shou Cang Shi, he was a man of few words.

He spent each day buried in cataloguing texts, never joining the historians' debates.

He was somewhat like Li Er.

Perhaps that was the fate linking them,

"Bo Yang, I am surnamed Lü, given name Lian; if you ever need anything, just ask."

Just that one sentence.

In the days that followed, Lü Lian indeed helped him a great deal.

Li Er had asked him why he did so.

Lü Lian only smiled.

"I have no other skill; I just stay here longer. Bo Yang is gifted, I cannot help much, only with small tasks."

Three years earlier, Lü Lian said he was old and intended to resign and return to LuGuo.

On the day of his departure, he stood at the entrance of Shou Cang Shi and bowed deeply to Li Er.

Bo Yang, take care.

Li Er did not anticipate that that side would be a final goodbye.

He stood there, silent for a long time.

Then he turned around and said to the young man who had hurried back:

"Prepare the belongings; the morning after tomorrow, we will inter your father."

The morning after tomorrow.

Before the sky was fully bright, the villagers of the alley gang were awakened by a sudden commotion.

They came out clothed to see, and at Lü Lian's house entrance, a line of people was already standing in perfect order.

At the front was a middle‑aged man riding a blue ox, behind him a youth of about seventeen or eighteen, and further back were Lü Lian's wife and children, along with a few neighbors helping to carry the coffin.

The funeral began.

Li Er dismounted from the ox, walked to the spirit coffin, and began to preside over the Ritual.

His movements were neither hurried nor slow, and each step was clear and evident.

From the offering to the spirit rising, and from the spirit rising to the burial, everything proceeded in orderly fashion.

The villagers watched with rapt attention.

"Where does this gentleman come from? This ceremony is performed more precisely than those Ritual Master."

"I don't know; I heard he is an old friend of Lord Lü from Cheng Zhou."

"An old friend from Cheng Zhou? That must be a capable person."

Kong Qiu stood aside, watching without taking his eyes off.

He saw from Li Er what the true "ritual" truly is.

It is not a rote recitation from a script, nor a forced imitation, but a solemnity that springs naturally from the heart.

Each movement was perfectly appropriate.

Each segment was measured and fitting.

The spirit coffin was carried out of the village, heading toward the cemetery.

The funeral procession moved slowly along the path; no one shouted, only the rustle of footsteps on the soil.

Halfway there, suddenly—

The sky darkened.

Kong Qiu looked up and saw a small gap appearing at the edge of the sun.

The gap widened and widened, the sun was gradually swallowed, and the world was enveloped in an eerie dimness.

A solar eclipse.

The procession stopped.

The carriers of the coffin stood bewildered in place; some instinctively wanted to set the spirit coffin down, yet were unsure if that was correct.

The others looked at each other, murmuring about what to do.

Kong Qiu's heart also rose.

He looked toward Li Er.

Li Er lifted his head and looked at the sky.

The gap had already covered most of the sun, leaving only a thin golden arc.

Then Li Er spoke.

"Stop the spirit coffin, pull it to the right side of the road; everyone cease weeping and wait quietly."

His voice was not loud, yet it reached each person's ears clearly.

The carriers, as if waking from a dream, hurriedly moved the spirit coffin to the roadside and gently set it down.

The mourners also stopped, no longer weeping, just standing silently.

Kong Qiu stood beside Li Er, looking up at the sky.

The sun's gap widened and widened, and finally—

It was completely swallowed.

Heaven and earth fell into darkness.

Only on the distant horizon did a faint halo of light remain.

Everyone held their breath.

The darkness lingered for a while—perhaps a quarter of an hour, perhaps longer.

Then, the edge of the sun again revealed a sliver of light.

The darkness receded slowly, and the light dripped back down piece by piece.

When the world fully regained its brightness, Li Er gently nodded.

"Continue onward."

The procession set off again, heading toward the cemetery.

After the burial, Kong Qiu remained silent.

Until evening, when they rested at an inn, he finally spoke.

"Sir, I have a matter I do not understand."

Li Er sat by the window, watching the dusk outside.

"Speak."

Kong Qiu weighed his words and began slowly:

"Once the coffin leaves the gate, it shouldn't stop again by rights. But just now, during the solar eclipse, the master had the coffin stopped midway. The disciple thought, if the eclipse lasts too long, are we supposed to keep waiting? If we delay the burial time, wouldn't that be even more improper?"

He paused, then said:

"Besides, since the coffin has already left the gate, by rights it cannot turn back. The eclipse came, the sun vanished, but who knows when it will reappear? Rather than stopping midway, it would be safer to keep moving forward."

Li Er listened, then turned his head to look at him.

"I ask you, when do the feudal lords set out for their audience with the Son of Heaven?"

Kong Qiu startled, then answered:

"Travel when the sun is seen; set out at dawn and rest before sunset."

"And what about an official sent on a mission to another state?"

"Also travel by the sun, and lodge when the sun is caught."

Li Er nodded.

"The coffin is the same: travel by day, lodge at night."

He looked at Kong Qiu, his gaze calm.

"Just now the solar eclipse darkened the sky to such a degree—do you know whether it is day or night?"

Kong Qiu fell silent.

"What difference is there between an eclipse and night?"

Li Er continued, "If we keep going, isn't that just like traveling at night?"

"Who travels at night?"

Kong Qiu blurted out:

"Criminals, and those rushing to mourn their parents."

Li Er nodded.

"During an eclipse, how can we know it isn't night?"

Kong Qiu was stunned.

Li Er looked at him, his eyes holding a touch of profundity.

"Besides, when a gentleman observes rites, he must take completeness as the foundation. If, for the sake of keeping to a schedule, he disregards safety and exposes the deceased's kin to danger, what sort of rite is that?"

"Rites do not avoid a person's kin's illness."

"Better to wait a while than to risk any mishap."

Having said that, he fell silent.

Kong Qiu, having heard that, showed a thoughtful expression, just about to perform a salute to show he had received instruction.

A voice came from behind:

"Li Er, long time no see."