WSMTATMC C17

Chapter 17

The next morning, the Chen household on North Street hung up white funeral banners.

A night watchman passing by stopped to ask, “Who’s passed away?”

The gate porter, Lin Zai, who was in charge of hanging the mourning decorations, sighed. “Our Eldest Young Master. Sudden illness last night… and he was gone.”

“Oh… Heaven have mercy — so young…”

While the two were speaking, Chen Biao arrived with his two sons. Even from a distance, they saw the conspicuous white banners hanging over the main gate, and the three of them were barely able to contain their excitement.

They were just about to enter when Lin Zai stopped them. “Please turn back, you three. The family isn’t receiving visitors today.”

Chen Qingfeng shoved him aside. “Are you blind? Don’t even recognize my father?”

Of course Lin Zai recognized them — they came every year to sponge off the household, how could he not? But the young master’s husband had ordered that if Chen Biao’s family ever came again, they were to be driven off.

The three brazenly made their way into the courtyard, running directly into Wang Ying, who was in the front yard arranging the funeral rites. Clad in plain white mourning garments, his hair bound back with a white ribbon, he looked like a pure white lily. Chen Qingfeng’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

He hadn’t attended Chen Qingyan’s wedding and hadn’t known this “Wang” ge’er looked so striking. At once, he sprouted covetous thoughts.

Wang Ying also saw them and thought, They came quickly. He put on a mask of grief and stepped forward. “Second Uncle is here.”

Chen Biao gave a perfunctory grunt and walked straight past into the main hall.

Chen Qingling followed him in, while Qingfeng paused beside Wang Ying. “Little brother-in-law hasn’t met me before, has he? I’m Qingyan’s eldest brother, Chen Qingfeng. Had something to deal with on your wedding day.”

“I have seen Eldest Brother-in-law.”

His voice was husky after a night of family discussion — his throat nearly hoarse by morning. To Chen Qingfeng’s ears, it was like a hook catching at his heart.

“My brother’s health was poor, and he’s gone early. Life from now on will be hard for you alone.”

Wang Ying didn’t know what he meant by such words, so he took out a handkerchief and feigned wiping away tears. “Thank you for your concern, Eldest Brother-in-law.”

In the main hall, Li Shi sat slumped in her chair, sleepless from the long night and weary of having to act the bereaved before Chen Biao. She truly looked like one in the depths of despair.

“Second Brother is here…”

“Sister-in-law, my condolences. I know you’re sad at Qingyan’s passing, but you must take care of yourself.”

“Ah…” Li Shi hid a yawn behind her hand, pretending instead to sob.

Qingling said, “Brother Yan’s been sick so long — living was suffering. Now he’s gone, it’s a release. Big Aunt, you mustn’t cry yourself ill.”

Chen Biao glared at his second son for his tactless tongue.

Li Shi wanted to curse him too, but the act had to go on. She perfunctorily nodded. “I’m in no state to host you. You’d best go for today — anything else, we can discuss after the funeral.”

“That won’t do,” Chen Biao declared, seating himself. “A funeral is a major event. With Big Brother gone, as Second Uncle, I can’t just stand by. Qingyan’s burial should be handled by me!”

Li Shi had anticipated this and, as Wang Ying had coached, replied, “Then I must trouble Second Brother. There’s little silver on hand. My dowry is not so easy to liquidate quickly, so you’d have to cover the costs first. Once it’s over… arrange matters as you see fit.”

This was as good as entrusting the whole household to him — Chen Biao was elated, almost grinning. He coughed twice to cover it. “Rest assured, Sister-in-law — I’ll see my nephew off with honour! Have you notified Third Sister and Fourth Brother?”

“Not yet. It happened so suddenly…”

The Third Aunt married into the county, a two- or three-day journey away, seldom returning. The Fourth Uncle was posted even farther, as a magistrate in Laizhou.

“Best to just send word to Third Sister. Fourth Brother is busy with official business — no need to have him rush back.”

“You decide, Second Brother.” Li Shi could barely keep up the act. She clutched her brow, rising to retire to her room.

Chen Biao gleefully led his sons to the mourning hall at the back.

There, Chen Qingyan lay in his coffin reading a book. Wang Ying, worried he’d be uncomfortable, had lined it with straw and thick quilts — lying there a whole day was no hardship.

Qingyun and Qingsong were kneeling on mats in mourning garb, burning paper offerings. The two had experience from their father’s funeral — they knew how to burn paper cleanly without smoke, fast, with no ash drifting about.

“Sis, do you think all this paper money, with no one to receive it now, will be kept in the underworld bank for us to withdraw when we die?”

Qingyun rolled her eyes. “Do you take the underworld for a bank? Why not… just burn it to Father and let him spend it?”

“Enough nonsense,” Qingyan frowned. “Get on with your work.”

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside, followed by Chen Biao’s stage-managed wailing: “Ah, my poor nephew, why were you so unlucky…”

Qingyan hastily shoved the book under him, straightened his clothes, and closed his eyes in “death.”

Chen Bo rushed forward to block them. “Why are you here? You—you mustn’t disturb the young master!”

Qingfeng sneered, “Hmph — old man, do you still think Big Brother calls the shots here? Look around you. Once Qingyan’s sent off, you can pack and get out!”

“You!” Chen Bo’s face flushed red with anger.

Qingyun and Qingsong stood too, glaring.

Chen Biao patted his eldest son’s shoulder, wearing a mask of false grief. “I know you’re upset — I am too. But life goes on. With Big Brother gone, Sister-in-law is alone; you two are still underage. Only your Second Uncle can shoulder the burden now.”

He pushed past Chen Bo into the hall. Qingsong lunged to eject them, but Qingyun held him back. The siblings clung to each other in fury.

Inside, the three didn’t dare go too close to “the body” — their guilt over the poison kept them back.

Biao lit an incense stick and handed it to his second son. “Pay respects to your cousin. Tell him not to worry over the family — his mother and siblings will be looked after.”

Qingling grinned as he planted the stick in the burner. “Safe travels, Cousin.”

In the coffin, Qingyan’s fists clenched. Thank heaven it was all false — and thank heaven for A-Ying. Otherwise, his future would be bleak indeed.

Biao sat down. “Go and fetch that ge’er who’s running the place — we need to discuss the funeral.”

Chen Bo stormed out. Shortly, Wang Ying entered, his face pale and drawn (from a sleepless night), his bearing subdued.

“How will you handle the funeral?”

“Mother is a Buddhist. She wishes to have monks chant sutras for seven days, to send him off in peace.”

Biao calculated that this would cost little. “Fine. I’ll have someone fetch them. What else?”

“I don’t know much — I’ve never arranged a funeral. Second Uncle should take charge.”

Exactly what Biao wanted. He needed to appear conscientious if he hoped to take the main branch’s property — otherwise, Third Sister and Fourth Brother might say something.

“Then leave it to me. Give me the storeroom keys.”

Wang Ying hesitated before untying them from his belt. “Mother’s been going to the temple often — much incense money has been spent. There’s little left at home.”

Biao gave it no mind, taking his sons straight to the storeroom — only to be startled at the sight of bare shelves: a few bolts of coarse cloth, half a chest of unsellable inksticks.

“Father, what do we do?”

“That damned spouse has hidden the goods. Never mind — we’ll scrape together the money for the funeral. In a few days, he’ll get what’s coming.”

A funeral in ancient times was far more complex and time-consuming than now. Selecting a grave site alone took three days.

Because Qingyan’s was not a natural death but considered “violent” (hengsi²), Biao feared the ghost would return to haunt him and hired a feng shui master to pick a plot that would “suppress the spirit.”

The monks hired happened to be from the temple Li Shi often visited — at a rate of one silver guan³ a day, for seven days.

Wang Ying couldn’t pay; Biao had to borrow from a moneylender with “legs.” He told himself he would repay it after the “business” was done. The whole family bustled as if eager to help.

On the ninth day of the eighth month, Third Aunt Chen Rong returned from the county. Since Big Brother’s death three years ago, she hadn’t been back — and now it was again for a funeral.

Her carriage stopped at the Chen gate, where the white mourning banners flapped in the breeze. The sight cut like a knife — she wept her way into the courtyard.

“Qingyan! My poor nephew~”

Hearing her, Li Shi hurried from her room. “Third Sister, you’re back.”

Chen Rong was crying too hard to speak, clutching Li Shi’s arm as tears poured. The sight made Li Shi feel guilty. “Don’t cry so — you’ve come far; take care of yourself.”

“How could this happen? Last year he was fine when he went to take the prefectural exams. How has he gone, in so short a time…”

Li Shi dabbed her eyes. “After failing that time, he returned home and took ill. Many physicians came to no avail, and the illness took hold.”

“Sister-in-law, you’re foolish! Why didn’t you send him to the county for treatment? As his aunt, even if I had to sell my pots and pans—”

“He refused to go…” This was true — when he’d fallen ill, Li Shi had tried to send him to the county for care, but at the mere suggestion, he’d stopped eating and drinking, threatening suicide. She’d had no choice but to give up.

“Where is he? Let me see him one last time.”

Li Shi led her to the mourning hall. The forthright woman went straight to the coffin and collapsed over Qingyan’s body, wailing.

By ill luck, she pressed a ticklish spot. Unable to stand it, Qingyan instinctively pushed.

The result was pandemonium: Chen Rong shrieked and fainted dead away.

Wang Ying reacted fast, catching her. “Aunt is overcome with grief and has fainted! Quick — take her inside to rest!”

Footnotes:

 

 

1. Hengsi (横死) – Refers to an unnatural or “violent” death, such as by accident, murder, or execution; believed to produce a restless ghost.