The funeral banquet involved a morning farewell with relatives, a midday meal, and an afternoon burial.
Cries filled the courtyard.
"Oh, my father, why were you so fated to suffer?"
"Dad, why did you leave us so soon!"
Some well-meaning older women from the same village also offered words of comfort.
"Cui, stop crying. Old Liu was eighty-seven, free from illness and disaster; his was a happy funeral."
"Let's make it lively today."
"Have something to eat. You've been here since last night; you must be hungry."
A few of the younger generation were busy helping the elders.
At that moment, the aroma from the kitchen wafted over. The uncles and aunts hadn't eaten much, and the meat Jiang Feng was stewing smelled incredibly fragrant. The aroma made their stomachs growl uncontrollably. Everyone, who had been weeping sorrowfully, suddenly stopped crying.
"What smells so delicious?" someone nearby asked.
