Li Mutian's funeral was overly grand, it looked less like the death of an ordinary old man and more like that of a Magistrate or Prefect. Long stretches of white cloth spanned across various villages, and the direct lineage of the Li Family, clad in white, held onto the funeral streamers, dragging the hearse through the flagstone path.
News swept through the villages like a gust of wind. Chen Erniu had just gotten out of bed, struck speechless by the news brought back by Chen Sanshui.
Setting down the willow twig in his hand, Chen Erniu rinsed his mouth and silently sat down at the table, a sense of inexplicable sorrow rising in his heart.
"No matter what kind of person one is, death is inescapable. Unless one becomes an immortal, we're all just a mound of yellow soil after all."
Chen Sanshui, however, disagreed, curling his lip and saying,
