Where the wind chimes sound, there is a god

Chapter 2: Crying People

There was a light shining in from the front of the attic. Chen Beimo sniffed the faint fragrance of Epiphyllum and said, "My aunt is here."

Just as he finished speaking, the front door of the attic was pushed open, and a beautiful woman dressed as a flower girl hurried in.

It can be seen that she is not a young girl, but has the charm of a young woman in her every move. She is wearing red gauze and pink clothes, with side-swept hair and silver hairpins, emerald pearls, and red cloud-like temples. She holds a fragrant moon-shaped fan and slowly fans the wind. She twists her waist and bends her skirt. Her face is rosy and her eyes are affectionate. Her temples are scattered in front of her forehead and are as thin as soft. In front of her are two servants holding white lanterns on each side, and behind her are two men with fierce faces holding fire sticks.

"Huai'er, Mo'er, are you okay?"

The woman came over anxiously, and seeing the wounds and blood on Li Yunhuai's body, she angrily asked, "Who did this?"

Li Yunhuai said, "Don't worry, Auntie. It's just a superficial wound."

"Could it be Mr. Qi again?" Shen Baoniang frowned and sighed, "Huai'er, I know you are thinking about your master's hard work and don't want to sell your family business.

But Mr. Qi's family is big and powerful, we can't afford to offend him. I heard from many sources today that Mr. Qi's daughter married a nobleman in the Guangnan Province Tidu Yamen, and I heard that he is a high-ranking official of the fifth rank.

Although I am now the mother of Zuiyuelou, I am just a servant. I don't know who is the noble person behind the building, and I have no way to establish a relationship with him.

We can’t compete with Mr. Qi.”

"not necessarily!"

Li Yunhuai said solemnly: "My master gave me something before he died. It was a handwritten letter from the guardian of the Thunderbolt Hall."

"You mean..." Shen Baoniang's eyes lit up.

The Pili Hall is the second-in-command of Guangnan's martial arts world, second only to the Zhengyi School of Taoism, which spans two provinces. The school is mainly good at using gunpowder and fire techniques, has many disciples, and its merchants have monopolized the gunpowder business in the entire Guangnan Province.

Moreover, many of the newly acquired areas in Guangnan were garrisoned by the imperial army, and there were many disciples of the Thunderbolt Hall in the South Quarter of Jincheng who were training in the army. The identity of a martial arts disciple was enough to make any gentry feel apprehensive.

"I plan to become his disciple. With the status of a Thunderbolt Hall disciple, Mr. Qi won't dare to force me anymore." Li Yunhuai said as he looked at Chen Beimo with guilt, "But I... always feel sorry for my junior brother."

"Brother, if the master didn't want you to enter the martial arts world, he would never have left you this letter." Chen Beimo sighed, "Brother, if you want to go out and try your luck, go early. Don't wait until you are old to look back and regret your life.

I have the skill to control snakes, so I am not afraid of them playing dirty tricks behind my back. This is Master's home, and it is also our home."

"But your snake-controlling skills always..."

Li Yunhuai was about to speak when Shen Baoniang interrupted him, "What kind of sorcery? When my uncle and I were still living in the Beiguanwai family, everyone worshipped Liu Xian and the other five great immortals, and there were many strange things. If this method had not been passed down from generation to generation, I would have wanted to learn it.

If your brother were outside the Great Wall, he would be a respected disciple who could perform rituals. How could he be involved in any sorcery?"

……

While the aunt, nephew and the other two were discussing, the four people who followed Shen Bao Niang on the long street were waiting outside the door. The night rain was as fine as a gauze curtain, and the call of the night watchman could be heard in the distance.

"Dang~"

"It's midnight, everything is fine!"

……

Shen Bao Niang asked the servant outside the door to follow Chen Beimo to invite a few close neighbors to come and mourn for the deceased to make the scene more grand. She also invited three masters who played suona, erhu and golden gong. More than ten people came to the yard and knelt down outside the threshold of the mourning hall.

Chen Beimo straightened his linen shirt, Li Yunhuai brushed off the dust on his long gown, and Shen Baoniang took off her hairpin and let her hair down. The servant brought her a white linen shirt and put it on to cover her red and pink clothes.

Three invited masters of wind instruments also stood by, holding suona, erhu and gong, standing in the yard with their heads held high and chests puffed out. Li Qisi, the owner of the bookstore across the street, was dressed in white, half hunched over, with a white linen robe tied around his neck, standing in front of the coffin, facing everyone.

Aunt Zhao took out two long red peppers from her sleeve pocket and stuffed them into the mouth of Hai, a boy from the neighboring Zhao family, without any explanation.

The hot smell immediately stimulated the little kid's tears and he let out a long cry.

"Wow~"

The three musicians in the courtyard immediately started playing and making sounds. The melodious and sad low-pitched sound of the erhu, coupled with the unique sound dispersion and amplification of the suona, plus the sound of the gongs, the sad music instantly began!
A solemn and dignified atmosphere was created. The Confucian scholar Li Qisi, who stood in front of the coffin, sang in an old and profound voice:

"since ancient times…

Flowers do not stay beautiful forever.

never…

The moon is not always full.

You can...

Heaps of gold and jade,

Hard to buy...

Immortality.

There may be thousand-year-old cranes among birds, but it is rare to find a centenarian in the world.

Life is busy and death is uncertain. When will you be satisfied? How can you grow when you want?

Floating clouds and mist lock up the rain, and I sigh for nothing about the vicissitudes of life.

What are you talking about? Fame, wealth and honor.

What is there to boast about? A beautiful article.

You must believe that in the end it is all an illusion.

Of course, it’s just a dream.

Where did the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors go? Where are the ministers of all dynasties?
But looking at the history, who can escape the impermanence?
If the true spirit is not blind, the feast will be here to enjoy the music..."

The long and ancient Taoist voice mixed with the mournful music resounded in all directions, and in this silent cold night, the long sound of the cry of men, women, old and young echoed into the eaves and windows of every household, waking up many people from their dreams.

Li Yunhuai had buried his head in the ground and cried loudly. He was just a teenager, but he took on the responsibility of the family overnight. He got up early in the morning to report the death and ran around. At noon, he sold funeral paper, helped in the kitchen, hired people to carve tombstones, put the coffin in the coffin to entertain guests, and dug for the gold well...

He had to take care of so many matters, big and small. Even though he had the help of his fellow apprentices, two close neighbors, and many people in the neighborhood, how heavy a burden it was to shoulder the chores of an entire family?

Shen Baoniang also cried and sobbed, her tears soaked her handkerchief and she kept talking. She knelt in front of the ancestor's coffin and did not get up. She cried and shouted sadly:

My poor old uncle, whose family had been completely destroyed, had no relatives to turn to, was bullied by those women, and had difficulty surviving. He took my niece all the way south, drank river water when thirsty, and ate wild vegetables when hungry. He had no good clothes on him, but he still had to protect my dignity, gave me clothes to cover my body, disguised me as a boy, carried me across the Changsuo River, walked through the mountains for hundreds of miles, slept in the wasteland every night, and drank grass water every day. If it weren't for you protecting me all the way,
How could...how could I come to this beautiful city thousands of miles away?
...Old uncle, you have not enjoyed any happiness in your life. You have raised two good disciples, but you have not yet enjoyed the joy of family life. How can we leave you without fulfilling our filial duties?

Who else in this world can treat me with such sincerity? Who else can be as close to me as a father?

Old uncle, please take a look, take a look at your poor disciple, take a look at your miserable niece..."

The neighbors also shed tears, and were infected by Shen Baoniang's crying. When Mr. Wang was alive, he was kind to others and had a good reputation for helping many neighbors and doing good deeds for ten households.

Ten years ago, when Jincheng was captured from the Wu Kingdom by the Western Jin Dynasty, the city was full of corpses, soldiers, civilians, bandits, and chaos. Human lives were worthless. If it weren't for Old Man Wang standing on Xishui Street with a knife in one hand and a human head in the other, I'm afraid many people here today wouldn't be able to stand here.

Chen Beimo bowed his head and cried. His master treated him like a father and an elder. He experienced the love between a grandfather and a grandson that he had never experienced in his previous life, but in this life he did.

The master scolded his brother every day for making food that was hard to swallow, but he had to eat it anyway. However, he went to the sauce lady's house on Baihui Street and bought him a large jar of bean paste just to give him more food.

Although the umbrella shop at home seems extraordinary, in fact, there may be no customers for three to five days. There are three men, one big, one small and one child, to make a living. The master sews his clothes, tailors his clothes, washes and ties his long hair, and personally bathes him when he was a child. It took him ten years to bathe himself. From teaching him to walk, to reading and writing, to teaching him umbrella art, Chen Beimo has grown from a paralyzed dumb man to a versatile teenager. Only they themselves know the hard work they put in.

A true man is not afraid of life or death, but in the face of the tedious and long days of firewood, rice, oil and salt, the heroic spirit is gone and the ambition is worn out. But the master was able to devote himself to them for ten years, raising them up and exhausting his last bit of life.

Chen Beimo cried quietly. Amid the wailing in the yard, a wind began to rise, blowing the paper money piled in the corner.

"Wow~"

Hundreds of pieces of paper money were flying in the air above the attic courtyard, many of them brushing past everyone. White candles flickered, and eternal lamps burned. A strange atmosphere was created between the light and shadow of everyone, the dark coffin, and the white paper all over the sky, as if the souls of the deceased had really returned, and the crying in front of the coffin became even louder.

After half an hour of crying, everyone stopped crying. Shen Baoniang stood up with the help of a servant and stretched out her hand to a white-haired old woman and said:

"Come here, this is Granny Wang San. My uncle and I fled from the north and have no relatives here. We need your help both before and after our death. Thank you for your hard work."

She waved her hand holding the round fan, and the nasty-faced man behind her came forward and handed eight taels of silver to the stunned Wang Sanpo, saying, "My uncle will be buried outside the city tomorrow. Please invite more nephews, relatives and friends to help my uncle make a grand occasion.

Tomorrow I can only watch from afar in the Huazhong Tower, and cannot come close to serve and mourn. This is the only way to practice filial piety."

The coldness of the eight taels of silver in Wang Sanpo's hand made her feel a little confused. This was the amount of money that her family could hardly earn in a whole year running the noodle shop.

After she realized what was happening, she nodded and said, "Don't worry, Manager Shen. I will do my best to take care of it. If Da Huai and the others were not too young, I would not dare to accept the money."

A servant found a wooden chair behind her and put it down. Shen Sanniang slowly twisted her waist and sat down gently, which made several men in the crowd stare in amazement.

She just nodded, and the other servant took the scented fan from her hands and stood quietly behind her.

Shen Baoniang knew in her heart that these common people would not concentrate on their work unless there was some benefit for them. Even if they were a bottomless pit of blood-sucking, they would have to suck some blood before they could work.

"Everyone should go about their own business. It's getting late. If you're done, go home early."

As soon as Wang Sanpo shouted, the dozen or so people who had come there all moved, but their eyes were all fixed on Wang Sanpo, or to be more precise, on the eight taels of silver on Wang Sanpo's body.

But she was the oldest among them and had a good reputation, so everyone felt relieved. After all, the money given by Shen Bao Niang was their reward for helping them, and no one wanted to suffer a loss.

Shen Baoniang stayed for a while longer and then got up and left. She sold herself to Zuiyuelou and had no freedom in life. It was not easy for her to come here tonight.

She couldn't come to the funeral tomorrow, otherwise if she was involved in such a romantic business and was involved in a funeral, it would be taboo if it got out. It was normal for her to cry for the deceased today, after all, she couldn't not even cry for the death of her loved one.

At night, Li Yunhuai arranged all the matters big and small for the funeral the next day and took a rest at the urging of Chen Beimo, leaving him alone to keep vigil.

The night rain outside the attic gradually got heavier. Raindrops dripped from the branches and leaves of the trees onto the bluestone road of the Jiangnan Trail, making the sound of a pattering rain curtain. Chen Beimo knelt alone in front of the coffin in the mourning hall. In the empty mourning hall were his relatives, so there was nothing to be afraid of.

He just looked at the dark coffin with a feeling of unreality. Ten years of teacher-disciple relationship, but now they are separated by Yin and Yang. Life is short, and he is deeply trapped in the world of right and wrong. Is he going to live a mediocre life like this?

Chen Beimo was unwilling to give up. He wanted to know if there were gods, ghosts, or monsters in this world. Where did the peculiarity of his body come from? He also wanted to gain extraordinary power to protect himself and his family.

But all this had to wait until he had settled his master before he could work hard to find what he wanted.

Moreover, the master's origin was also extraordinary. His family, who worshipped Liu Xian in Beiguan thousands of miles away, drifted to the border of Jiangnan and found him, who happened to have supernatural powers and could communicate with all kinds of snakes.

Perhaps there is some unknown secret hidden in this, and perhaps the answer can be found in the relics left by the master.

Chen Beimo fell asleep unknowingly with a lot on his mind.

……

On the second day, the sky was still dim and drizzling. A long line stood in front of Tingyu Pavilion. Senior Brother Li Yunhuai walked in front, followed closely by Chen Beimo.

The funeral procession was lined up with young and strong men standing in pairs, some holding paper umbrellas, some holding paper horses, paper cranes, paper boys and other items.

There were also several musicians playing various instruments, and several neighbors had come. Old Man Wang and Grandma Wang San were standing in the team, and their two sons, the eldest and the second, were standing behind them, carrying a basket of paper money in their hands.

Thanks to the eight-liang silver ingot that Aunt Shen had rewarded yesterday, the master's coffin was carried by twelve strong men. The time teller on Xishui Street shouted, "It's already the hour of Si!"

Li Yunhuai, who was at the front of the team, took the clay basin brought by Haiwaer and smashed it hard on the ground.

With a "clang" sound, the coffin was lifted up, and there was loud crying. The suona played a long tune. Chen Beimo followed behind his senior brother and saw him lift up the white banner to guide the soul, holding a mourning stick in one hand and crying sadly. Groups of people who were attending the funeral and watching the ceremony gathered on both sides of the road. Seven or eight people in the funeral procession threw pieces of bright white paper money from the bamboo baskets they carried into the air, and then they fell down in a scattering manner.

Chen Beimo followed behind his senior brother, walking with heavy steps. The long suona sound was filled with sadness. He cried and wiped his face like his senior brother, holding a folded colorful silk umbrella in his hand. This was the old umbrella that the master loved most when he was alive. It was said that it was a West Lake silk umbrella brought by the master's wife from Jiangnan. One umbrella cost ten silver coins, but what was more important was the friendship of the owner.

The funeral procession passed Xishui Street and went towards the west city gate. In Zuiyue Tower, two streets away, the perfume had not yet dissipated, the night revelry had not yet ended, and the singing girls and dancers were all still asleep. But a window was opened on the fifth floor of Huachong Tower, the highest building. A woman in plain clothes with her hairpin taken off and her hair loose was leaning against the window, gazing at the funeral procession leaving the city gate. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she could not cry out loud.

People inside and outside the city gate were discussing the strange things that happened last night. The servants of Mr. Qi's family made a scene in front of Mr. Wang's coffin and were frightened to death. The head of the Lin family was blind in one eye. He was terrified when he heard about Tingyu Pavilion. He asked a doctor, who said he had a stroke. The snake venom in his body could not be cured. Half of his body was paralyzed and he could only lie in bed for the rest of his life.

Some people said that he deserved it, while others said that it was the spirit of Mr. Wang who appeared. There were many different opinions, but no one dared to say anything wrong about Mr. Qi.

Outside the city, the 800-li Yunzhu Mountain is shrouded in clouds all year round, with countless legendary monsters, demons, Miao gods and poisonous people. However, the outer mountains within the outermost 100 miles have long been fertile fields and gardens for the people of Jincheng.

The funeral procession walked to the foot of the mountain, along a wide mountain road. It was not yet noon, and the mountains were even quieter, without the hustle and bustle of the city. Every place they passed by disturbed the chirping of insects and birds, and knocked off countless dewdrops on the leaves of plants.

The mountain road was difficult to walk on, so everyone had to stop and rest for a while. Chen Beimo calculated that there was only less than half an hour left. The Golden Well was on a hillside outside the mountain, where there were five acres of mountain fields allocated to Master Wang by the government. He wanted to sleep forever in such a green mountain and mist, hoping that his master would be satisfied.

Soon everyone finished their rest and started to throw money around and play suona again, but they had been crying for so long that their voices were gone, and only the sad and long suona sounds echoed far into the mountains.

The fog on the road was getting thicker, and the surroundings suddenly became very quiet. There was no sound of insects or birds in the entire forest, as if they were the only living creatures in the vast foggy forest.

"Everyone stop!"

(End of this chapter)