The Dumb Prince of the Ming Dynasty

The Ministry of Rites set a date for the burial, which would take place seven days later.

The mourning period was incredibly difficult for the two brothers.

During the day, various ceremonies are held in turn.

"Farewell to the spirit," kneeling before the spirit and weeping.

"Libation wine" refers to holding a wine cup and sprinkling it on the ground while crying.

"Read the prayer," the Taoist priest recited the sacrificial text, his recitation sounding like rap, with ups and downs. Li Jinglong didn't understand a single word, but he still had to cry.

At night, a vigil was held.

The two brothers knelt beside the coffin, their eyelids drooping with sleep, but they couldn't fall asleep.

The paper money in the brazier must not be cut off, and the incense and candles must not be extinguished.

"Brother, my legs are numb," Li Zengzhi said softly.

"My knees are practically warped from kneeling so much," Li Jinglong grimaced. "After Dad's burial, I'll have to go to the Imperial Hospital to see if my knees are even salvageable."

"Weren't all the imperial physicians executed?"

"...That's true, then I'll go find an old traditional Chinese medicine doctor."

On the third day, a Taoist priest arrived, supposedly from Longhu Mountain, to perform a ritual.

When Li Jinglong took a look, he exclaimed, "Wow, this old Taoist priest has an air of otherworldly grace. He's holding a peach wood sword, walking with the Seven Star Step, and chanting incantations."

The problem is, I can't understand a single word they're saying.

"Second brother, did you understand?" Li Jinglong asked in a low voice.

Li Zengzhi shook his head: "It sounds like he's reciting, 'Hurry, hurry, as the law commands?'"

"That's magic. Why would you use magic now?"

"Then what do you pronounce it?"

"It sounds like an encrypted call. They're Taoists with connections in heaven."

The two brothers followed the Taoist priest, sometimes kneeling, sometimes standing up, sometimes running around the mourning hall, and sometimes prostrating themselves and kowtowing.

"Do you think Dad will really ascend to heaven after all this trouble?" Li Jinglong asked.

Li Zengzhi thought about it seriously: "I don't know if we'll ascend to heaven, but we'll definitely ascend first."

That makes sense.

"Brother, let's take turns, or our whole family will end up dying."

On the fourth day, a monk arrived.

The monks were chanting in Sanskrit, which Li Jinglong couldn't understand at all.

"What is this now?"

"Brother, this is Sanskrit, the words of Buddha."

"Can our dad understand? Our dad has never been abroad."

Li Zengzhi: "..."

"You're talking about both Taoist priests and Buddhist monks, which one should I believe in, Father?" Li Jinglong looked confused. "What if both families fight over him, and I'm caught in the middle? That would be so awkward."

Li Zengzhi whispered, "How about we hire another lama?"

"Shut up."

The fifth day was filled with an unusually large number of ceremonies.

There is a morning offering, a midday offering, an evening offering, and a night offering.

The two brothers followed the Taoist priest, sometimes kneeling, sometimes running, sometimes kowtowing, and sometimes kneeling, running, and kowtowing again.

Li Jinglong could no longer distinguish east from west.

Finally, night fell.

The two brothers stumbled back to the mourning hall and collapsed onto the prayer mats.

After a long while, Li Jinglong finally spoke, his voice hoarse: "If this continues, I'm afraid I'll have to go with Father."

Li Zengzhi looked up, his face serious: "Big brother, please don't!"

Li Jinglong felt a warmth in his heart; after all, he was still his younger brother, and he couldn't bear to part with him.

"Then I'll have to do it again," Li Zengzhi added.

Li Jinglong: "..."

The servant on night watch brought in two bowls of porridge: "Young masters, please have something to eat."

The two brothers brought it over and started eating.

"Second brother, what do you think Dad eats down there?"

"I don't know, but it'll definitely be better than what we eat."

"Of course, our father has Chang Yuchun keeping him company down there, he might be having hot pot right now."

"Big brother, stop talking, I'm hungry."

"If you're hungry, why don't you have some porridge?"

Li Zengzhi took a sip, his expression complicated: "Brother, this porridge tastes like paper money."

Li Jinglong didn't even look up: "That means our father received it."

Day .

When Li Jinglong woke up, he almost thought he was dead.

Upon arriving at the mourning hall, I looked down and saw that the prayer mat had almost been worn into two dents from his kneeling.

"There's no ceremony today, is there?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Li Zengzhi rolled his eyes: "Brother, you've asked this three times already."

"That's because we're afraid the Ministry of Rites will cause trouble again. Yesterday, that Taoist priest suddenly started performing some kind of ritual in the middle of chanting, which startled me. I thought our father had possessed him."

"That's the stepping of the Big Dipper."

"Whatever it is, I almost jumped in."

Fortunately, it was indeed quiet today.

There were no Taoist priests, no Buddhist monks, and none of the usual kneeling, rising, running, and kneeling rituals. Officials from the Ministry of Rites arranged the procedures outside the mourning hall; the two brothers only needed to kneel before the coffin and cry a few times when it was time to.

Funeral music has never stopped.

As Li Jinglong knelt, his eyelids began to droop.

Filial piety sounds simple, but kneeling down to it is a nightmare.

His head was slowly drooping down, and it looked like he was about to hit the prayer mat.

Suddenly, my arm was shoved hard.

"Big brother!" Li Zengzhi said in a low voice, "Something's not right."

Li Jinglong was startled and quickly glanced inside and outside the mourning hall.

"What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled. "Isn't everything perfectly orderly? The officials from the Ministry of Rites are arranging all the procedures, and all we have to do is kneel down."

Li Zengzhi frowned and listened intently: "Something's wrong with this funeral music."

Funeral music?

Li Jinglong pricked up his ears and listened carefully for a while.

The melody is melodious and lingering, with a touch of gentle charm.

"Isn't this similar to 'Midnight Song'?" He shrugged, casually humming a couple of lines: "Her hair, uncombed all night, cascades over her shoulders. She lies tenderly on her lover's lap, how could she not be pitied?"

Li Zengzhi glared at him.

"What's wrong? Isn't it right?" Li Jinglong listened again and suddenly realized, "I know, this tune sounds like 'Drunken Spring Breeze,' where people share light wine, embrace soft jade by the lamp, arms wrapped around each other, lips pressed together..."

"Brother," Li Zengzhi said speechlessly, "you should go to the brothels less often."

Li Jinglong glared: "Then what did you say it was? Do you even know music?"

Li Zengzhi's voice was even lower: "This is funeral music for a vassal king."

Li Jinglong was stunned for a moment.

"The feudal lord?"

"That's right." Li Zengzhi's expression was solemn. "Our father was only a Duke. According to the rites, there are fixed rules regarding the tunes and specifications for the funeral music of a Duke. But what is being played now is music reserved for a prince."

Li Jinglong's eyes widened.

"You could tell from that?"

Li Zengzhi said irritably, "If you went to the Jiaofangsi less often, you could tell."

Li Jinglong: "..."

Funeral music for a vassal king.

The music played at the Duke's funeral was that of a prince.

To put it mildly, this was a mistake by the Ministry of Rites; to put it more seriously, it was an act of usurpation.

"Did the Ministry of Rites make a mistake in its report, or was it intentional?" he pondered.

Li Zengzhi shook his head: "How could they possibly play it wrong? Those people in the Ministry of Rites are in charge of this. They wouldn't make a mistake even with their eyes closed, knowing exactly what regulations to use for funeral music."

"That was intentional."

Li Jinglong's mind worked incredibly fast.

After the mourning period, if anyone uses this as a pretext to impeach the Duke of Cao's family, that would be a serious crime.

At best, their rank and salary will be reduced; at worst...

He glanced at the coffin.

In severe cases, they might have to go down to live with their father.

"Someone is trying to frame our Duke Cao's mansion," he said coldly.

Li Zengzhi nodded, her little face tense.

Li Jinglong was secretly alarmed.

He always thought that holding a funeral was just holding a funeral; after crying, you buried the dead, then the title was passed on, and then you lay down and rested.

How simple is that?

Unexpectedly, this funeral was fraught with hidden undercurrents.

From the execution of the entire family of the imperial physician, to the stripping of the title and exile of Marquis Huazhong of Huai'an, and now to the funeral music for the princes.

Each and every one of these seemingly unrelated events is like a net that is slowly tightening.

Was Father's death due to illness, or was there something else going on?

Who is behind this funeral music?