Hu Tao stood off to the side, watching Song Yinjian with a complicated expression.
She had always taken pride in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's rites—but at this moment, she had to admit it.
The Yin-Yang Daoist ritual Song Yinjian presided over, whether in solemnity or atmosphere, had surpassed every traditional rite Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had ever performed.
As for Zhongli, he was completely immersed in the scripture Song Yinjian recited. With each steady, flowing line, the more he felt its profundity.
Every word seemed tempered by time itself—condensed wisdom, deep philosophy, and an uncanny clarity about life and death.
And yet, a thread of doubt rose in Zhongli's heart.
He had never heard of Cloud Retainer authoring any scripture like this. Could it be… written by Song Yinjian himself?
The moment the thought surfaced, Zhongli found it hard to believe.
Song Yinjian was barely in his twenties. How could someone that young compose something so exquisite?
The insight, the experience, the understanding of the Way—those were not things a man could acquire so easily at that age.
But reality was plainly in front of him.
Song Yinjian truly was someone rare, blessed with exceptional comprehension. The only pity was that his cultivation aptitude was… genuinely terrible.
Zhongli sighed inwardly at the waste.
Before long, Mister Zhang's relatives and acquaintances began arriving one after another to pay their respects.
Some looked hurried, some looked indifferent. Most simply glanced once, perfunctorily, and turned to leave—hardly anyone even left condolence money.
Song Yinjian watched it all and couldn't help silently mocking the deceased's truly awful social circle.
Then again, it was understandable.
With a flirtatious young wife like that, who had time to maintain relationships properly? After the Scripture of Salvation was finished, Chongyun arrived as well.
Song Yinjian dressed him in mourning clothes and arranged for him to burn paper offerings in front of the mourning hall.
After a short break, Song Yinjian led the elderly men to recite another scripture—the Supreme Cavern Mystery Lingbao Scripture of Deliverance from the Three Paths and Five Sufferings.
Once again, the hall filled with the long, resonant cadence of chanting.
Zhongli listened attentively, struck by how even more profound this scripture seemed. His admiration for Song Yinjian deepened by the breath.
Only when the sun sank low—until the last strip of dying light slipped beneath the horizon—did the recitation finally come to an end.
Song Yinjian rose slowly, expression solemn and devout.
He walked with steady steps to the incense burner, lifted three sticks of incense, lit them from the candle flame, and planted them firmly into the ash.
Thin blue smoke curled upward like a bridge between the living and the dead, carrying reverence and prayer into the air.
Afterward, Song Yinjian led everyone to bow in unison before the deceased. And just like that, the Yin-Yang Daoist ritual came to a temporary close.
He removed his ritual robe, then handed out red envelopes—ten thousand mora to each elder who had chanted, and fifty thousand mora to Uncle Tian.
Then he personally escorted Uncle Tian and the elders out of the estate.
No sooner had he seen them off than he spotted Xinyan arriving at the entrance, a guitar slung across her back, steps light and brisk.
Song Yinjian looked at her, baffled.
"Xinyan, didn't I tell you? Come after eight tonight. Why are you here already?"
Xinyan scratched her head sheepishly.
"I didn't have anything going on today, so I figured I'd come early, get a feel for the place. I didn't expect to arrive this early… I'm not causing trouble, am I?"
Song Yinjian checked the time.
"Since you're here, eat dinner with us." Xinyan waved her hands frantically.
"No, no, no—I've already eaten! I'm not hungry at all. Don't worry about me, I'll just wait here." Song Yinjian glanced at her slightly sunken stomach and chuckled.
"Eat a little. We're staying up tonight." Xinyan hesitated, then finally nodded. "Alright… if you insist, I'll eat a bit."
Not long after, dinner arrived—Wanmin Restaurant takeout, delivered personally by Xiangling.
When the boxes were opened, a feast was spread across the table: ten dishes and a soup, fragrant and colorful.
Hu Tao's eyes lit up instantly at the sheer abundance. She elbowed Song Yinjian and leaned in with a grin.
"Hey, Bastard Song—did you take the wrong medicine today or something? Since when are you this generous? You're usually not this extravagant."
Song Yinjian shot her an annoyed look.
"Hmph. I'm always generous. Now stop talking nonsense and eat. After dinner, we've got real work to do—don't waste time."
Hu Tao pouted, then abandoned all pretenses of ladylike behavior and started devouring the food with gusto.
With her leading the charge, everyone else picked up their chopsticks as well. In no time, the food vanished—leaving nothing but a pile of empty containers. After dinner, Song Yinjian put on his white ritual robe again.
Moonlight spilled like water over his shoulders. Standing alone before the deceased, he began reciting the Supreme Dao Lord's Scripture of Resolving Grievances and Deliverance—to untangle resentment, to grant deliverance, to cleanse karmic burdens.
Only when the moon climbed high did the chanting finally fade.
Song Yinjian bowed respectfully before the deceased, lit three more sticks of incense, and placed them into the burner.
Then he turned to Xinyan and gave her a look.
She could begin her "death rock" performance outside the mourning hall.