Clearly, it was storytelling, yet it took on a singing tone. Perhaps, this was the earliest form of rap in the country.
Niu Lian’s expression led her two brothers; they repeated after her, wailing like a harmony.
Li Zhiyuan found it interesting. Not to mention his interactions with the old lady, just the content of this mourning made people laugh and cry—something about the children just growing up and not having time to enjoy the blessings before they left...
Were they just coming of age? Clearly, each of them was already a grandparent. If they really wanted to honor their mother, how could it be too late?
Thinking back to the last time at Big Beard’s family’s funeral, they cried for their mother during the day like true filial children, yet didn’t miss taking their son to do unspeakable things at night.
So, the afternoon performance by the funeral troupe couldn’t compare to the main act in the morning—that was the true battle of acting skills.
However, this memorial seemed too quiet. By rights, there should also have been a meal offered.
Li Zhiyuan leaned towards Li Sanjiang, who was smoking, and asked, "Grandmaster, why are there so few people here, aren’t we inviting people for a meal?"
But not far away, he saw the cook busy.
Li Sanjiang sneered and said, "Half a year ago when the old lady passed, those three siblings arranged the funeral but didn’t hire a professional mourning troupe. They saved as much as they could on the food, making a bland, thin soup. The villagers came with their contribution money and didn’t even get enough to fill their stomachs.
This time, they’re holding a ghost marriage celebration, and the villagers didn’t come—too disgraceful."
Li Zhiyuan understood; those three siblings simply used their mother’s funeral as a means to collect contribution money last time.
In rural traditions, the contribution money was meant for everyone to help the main family cover the costs. Even if there were a few who were penny-pinchers, they mostly wouldn’t end up at a loss.
But lo and behold, you encounter such shameless people.
Liu Jinxia was sitting behind the offering table, often wiping tears with a handkerchief from the smoke, yet still persistently reciting chants, occasionally taking out specific talisman paper and handing them for the filial sons and daughters to burn.
Her position was to connect the yin and yang realms, helping the deceased communicate with the living.
Mr. Shan had spread a ragged mat, sitting in the northwest corner, holding a water pipe, continuously smoking.
Li Zhiyuan recalled from books, with the offering table as the origin, Mr. Shan’s position was at the evil-breaking point; if any sinister wind wanted to enter, it had to pass through there.
Run Sheng didn’t rest either, constantly moving back and forth, spinning a streamer in circles. It was quite a physical task, having to keep it twirling without letting it fall.
On the other hand, his own Grandmaster sat under the tent, sipping tea. Li Zhiyuan felt his own knowledge lacking, unable to discern which position his Grandmaster was holding.
But... it must have been very important.
They had already eaten lunch. In the afternoon, the funeral troupe actors collectively changed into monk robes, pretending to be monks, began striking wooden fish, and chanting scriptures.
A few had shaved heads, appearing quite authentic.
Run Sheng brought over bowls and chopsticks from the back kitchen; he was hungry. While others had afternoon tea, whenever conditions allowed, he would have an afternoon meal.
He thoughtfully invited Li Zhiyuan to eat with him, and Li Zhiyuan accepted, grabbing an empty bowl and taking some food to start eating.
As for Uncle Qin, Li Zhiyuan and Run Sheng had called him, but he did not eat.
Ever since arriving, Uncle Qin had been standing at the edge of the tent, barely moving.
While waiting for the incense to burn, Run Sheng said to Li Zhiyuan, "I told my grandpa you were reading those books, and he said you’re much smarter than me, and told me to talk to you more in the future."
Unlike Li Sanjiang’s belief that his great-grandson must go to university in Beijing, Mr. Shan had early on seen Li Zhiyuan as an excellent candidate for the Corpse Recovery Diver.
"Sure, you can come find me to play anytime."
In Li Zhiyuan’s view, Run Sheng was a perfect link between theory and practice.
"Really? That’s great, haha, you wouldn’t believe it—my grandpa’s health isn’t good, and he often needs medicine. The family is already tight, and I’m just a big eater, sigh.
Coming to your place, not only can I eat my fill, but I can also lighten Grandmom’s burden. When there’s work, I’ll go back and help him with corpse recovery, no delay."
"You want to stay for a long time?"
"Ah, I can’t?" Run Sheng scratched his head.
"You’d have to ask my Grandmaster."
"Then I’ll have my grandpa talk to your Grandmaster. According to him, after he’s gone, I’ll work for your Grandmaster."
"Mm." Li Zhiyuan nodded. "Grandmaster was getting on in years, having Run Sheng take over in the future wouldn’t be bad at all."
After all, corpse recovery was Grandmaster’s true profession and important image; his other enterprises thrived because he was a Corpse Recovery Diver.
As the incense burned out, Run Sheng impatiently mixed the food with the incense ashes using chopsticks and began to eat heartily.
Li Zhiyuan curiously asked, "If you don’t light incense, you really can’t eat?"
"Uh-huh," Run Sheng replied between bites, "I can’t eat; if it goes in my mouth, it’s not just tasteless, it’s downright nauseating."
"Have you ever eaten..." Li Zhiyuan hesitated a bit but decided to ask, "Eaten a corpse?"
Run Sheng was taken aback, immediately lowered his voice, and said:
"Grandpa warned me; I can’t admit to eating it outside."
"Then you better remember your grandfather’s warning."
"Of course, I always remember it."
Li Zhiyuan quickly finished eating, watching Run Sheng devour his meal, *thinking if Run Sheng had come two days earlier, he’d have just caught the old lady’s paper effigy banquet, and could’ve taken a whole table for himself.*