Two days ago, Daoist Yizhen returned to the Five Elders Temple and dug out a jar of aged wine buried by his master, Zichen, beneath the ginkgo tree in the temple.
Fortune or misfortune, Zichen's talent far exceeded Hu Baosong's, but as a result, Daoist Zichen couldn't escape the heavenly punishment of a lightning disaster, while Hu Baosong, a poor student with insufficient cultivation, lived past two hundred years, dying of old age.
Each drink and bite is predetermined by fate.
Now, only a jar of fine wine, carefully buried by Daoist Zichen, has withstood the erosion of time and remains intact to this day.
The elderly cherish the past dearly. If Hu Baosong saw this jar of wine brewed by his master, he would surely be very pleased.
With a smile in her eyes, Yizhen held the jar of wine. Besides this wine, she also didn't forget Hu Baosong's instructions, making offerings at her master's grave, recounting the events of recent days.
After paying respects to her master, Yizhen returned to Underground Street with the cherished wine that held decades of sentiment.
Opening the shop's door, sunlight flooded into the funeral shop from outside, and the cane chair was empty.
In the backyard, the chessboard beneath the peach tree remained unfinished.
Yizhen felt a vague unease as she approached the chessboard, noticing a jade box on the stone table that wasn't there before.
A letter was pressed beneath the jade box.
Written on it were the words "To my beloved daughter, Yizhen."
Yizhen Daoist's brows and eyelashes trembled, caught off guard.
Suppressing a trace of unease, the Taoist nun comforted herself, perhaps the old man wanted to acknowledge her as his daughter but was too embarrassed to do so, so he wrote a letter to test her reaction.
If she had no qualms in her heart, father and daughter could naturally reunite; if she was unwilling, it could be as if nothing had happened.
It was just the cunning mind of an old sly fox, it must be so.
Feeling anxious, Yizhen opened the letter, reading word by word, and the further she read, the stronger the unease in her heart grew.
"I have three wishes and three regrets.
First wish, my child, may your Dao heart be enlightened, with no obstacles ahead. I leave this jade box, containing the inheritance of the Hu family, for prolonged cultivation to awaken insufficient bloodlines and comprehend the subtleties of our cultivation.
Alas, my days are numbered, unable to personally teach you, fulfilling the responsibilities of nurturing and protection...
Second wish, may my child sever worldly attachments with wisdom, diligently study and practice, solidifying your foundation. For any unresolved matters, you can consult the elders in the temple, avoid repeating my past mistakes that delayed my Dao path... I recall traveling far and wide with a bookcase, forging a bond with your mother, yet I indulged in worldly pleasures, abandoning her, spending half my life mired in the mundane, disappointing both your mother and you.
Third wish, may my child encounter sincere gentlemen, avoiding heartless wanderers like myself.
Now, as a father with frosted temples, I can no longer shield you from the wind and rain. I only wish, from now on, that when you walk under the moon a gentle breeze guides your way, when crossing rivers, brightly colored fish carry the light for you, and even if faced with a thousand mountains of twilight snow, you can still see the morning sun over a thousand miles.
—— This is my final letter, Frost Moon Day, Year of Jiazi.
When seeing the final signature, Yizhen felt as if she was struck by lightning.
This is not a letter; this is clearly a will!
...
In the funeral shop.
When Xu Qing conducted Hu Baosong's funeral, a Taoist nun was conducting a three-way inquiry in his shop.
The Golden Simurgh had just woken up, looking bewildered and confused, as Yizhen asked it whether Hu Baosong came by and if Xu Qing and the old man were hiding anything from her.
The Golden Simurgh listened in a daze.
Old Hu? Haven't seen him.
Uncle Xu, however, he had just seen. The two of them had just returned from eating at a restaurant on Flower and Bird Street, how could it forget?
Yizhen was taken aback. Could it be that this matter truly has nothing to do with Junior Brother Xu?
But thinking of Hu Baosong's will and the now missing Xu Qing, Yizhen felt that things were not so simple.
Could this gluttonous bird have been bewitched by Xu Qing? Otherwise, why would it call him Uncle Xu so affectionately?
Seeing no useful information from the Golden Simurgh, Yizhen turned her gaze to Xuan Yu.
The latter had big, innocent eyes on its face, filled with childlike sincerity.
The cat knows nothing, oh!
Huang Xiaoliu had just returned to the hall and was about to report today's street intelligence when Yizhen caught him.
"Little ferret, I'm asking you about master and the funeral shop's Shopkeeper Hu, have you seen where they went?"
Huang Xiaoliu's small eyes rolled around, and after seeing Xuan Yu lightly flick its tail and cast a threatening gaze at him, the little yellow mouse immediately shook its head and said, "Haven't seen him, I haven't seen the master in the past few days. As for the funeral shop's Shopkeeper Hu... likely gone to deliver a coffin to someone's house!"
Seeing Huang Xiaoliu's nervous appearance, Yizhen followed its gaze towards Xuan Yu.
Just a moment ago, it was a domineering hall master and now it had turned innocent and good-hearted in an instant.
"Meow?"
"..."
Under the pure gaze from the cat, Yizhen Daoist returned defeated.
Perhaps she was overthinking, maybe the old man just wrote his will in advance, not expecting her to return at this time, accidentally leaving it on the stone table under the peach tree.
Yizhen returned to the funeral shop and placed the will back under the jade box exactly as it was.
The next day, just as Xu Qing returned from the Ancient Yin River Dao and hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath, he was informed by Xuan Yu about Yizhen's visit to 'demand justice.'
"Old Hu, I went to great lengths to arrange your funeral, if you have spirits in heaven, you must bless me with prosperous business and abundant clientele..."
Grooming himself and changing into a brand new outfit sewn by a female ghost, Xu Qing held the freshly made memorial tablet and headed to the street's funeral shop.
Yizhen had been absent-minded for the past two days, sitting at the counter at that moment, staring blankly at the cane chair that Hu Baosong frequently lounged in.
Seeing a figure entering from outside the shop, Yizhen's heart leapt with joy, but when she saw the scene clearly, it was only Xu Qing's figure she saw.