July 7th, the wind scatters the cicada's song, autumn in a myriad of trees.
The number seven holds extraordinary significance in the funeral industry, perhaps to align with this number, or maybe there's truly some saying about it.
On this day, Xu Qing had just seen off a guest when a familiar knocking sound came from the door.
Though the shop door was wide open in broad daylight, the knocking continued; he didn't even need to turn around to guess what was happening.
Xu Qing sighed deeply and came to the door.
He saw a short, fat man with a dark face kneeling on the ground with a loud thud, the sound of his head hitting the floor very noticeable.
Behind the fat man were his wife, grandchildren, and even his apprentices and grand-apprentices.
The whole family followed, all kowtowing.
An old saying goes, filial sons' heads, left throughout the streets.
It means, regardless of age or generation, as long as you're bringing news of death, you must kowtow first.
This was the first time Xu Qing encountered so many people bringing news of a death. Just as he was about to speak, Guo Baolin suddenly started wailing loudly:
"Godfather! My dear godfather! Why did you leave just like that? Back in the day, you took in this good-for-nothing of yours, taught me to storytell, taught me to be a person. I haven't even repaid enough of this son's duty and as a disciple, yet you've already set off for the Western Paradise, leaving me here heartbroken without care!"
"Uncle Xu, you were my godfather's bosom friend, closer than a brother, and now that godfather is gone, you are my only true uncle."
Guo Baolin cried even more despairingly:
"Uncle! You must acknowledge me as your nephew, I'm left with only one relative, oh, the pain in my heart."
In the world of storytelling, in front of people, you call them master, in private, you acknowledge godfather.
Guo Baolin, however, after acknowledging a godfather, came to Xu Qing and started acknowledging a goduncle, and crucially brought the whole family and the juniors of the storytelling circle.
Now with this shameless wailing, the entire neighborhood heard it.
The owner of the Incense and Candle Shop diagonally across the street stood on tiptoe, peeking in curiosity over at them.
The lady boss wondered, what's the drama today? There wasn't any report of a show yesterday!
In front of the Funeral Shop, Xu Qing was helplessly confronted by the stout man for quite some time.
Having transcended so many bodies, he had seen more revolving lanterns than Guo Baolin could live ten lifetimes, how could he not discern the other's intentions?
This stout man's coming to report a death might be true, but the primary purpose surely was the original Dongyang Travelogue that Guo Dongyang gave him before he died.
Without offspring, in the outsiders' eyes, he's just a loner. As long as Guo Baolin acknowledges him as uncle, isn't it sooner or later the Dongyang Travelogue would return to the Guo family?
Xu Qing, maintaining his composure, let everyone rise. At present, no other matters were more crucial than arranging Guo Dongyang's funeral, allowing him to rest in peace.
As for Guo Baolin's little schemes...
Xu Qing would let them wait for eighteen generations, and the Guo family's descendants might not see the day he ascends to the Western Sky.
The last one with such thoughts, Elder Huang, had now become the most honest.
A person aged, not even the immortals could hope to outlast him; Guo Baolin indeed has courage...
Xu Qing did not expose this family's little plot. He remained as usual, arranging a funeral and burial for Guo Dongyang in the manner of a thirty-two-man coffin bearing.
On this day, the sky was bright and clear, the red sun blazing.
Outside the Honored Ascension Teahouse's courtyard, marquees were set up, along with street archways, bell and drum towers, and a colorful archway made with blue and white paper flowers, inscribed with three words: A Great Matter.
Mencius·Li Lu states: Providing for life hardly qualifies as a great matter, only sending off the dead deserves such a term.
What does it mean?
While parents are alive, supporting them is indeed important, but it cannot be considered the greatest matter. Only sending off parents, conducting their funerals, ensuring they rest in peace after death, is considered the greatest undertaking.
This is true for both caring for and burying parents alike.
As Guo Dongyang considered the teahouse his home, with no separate 'dying of natural causes' main room to stop the spirit, and being a storyteller, a public figure much loved by people,
Xu Qing, following the funeral rites and white letter guide, concluded the only choice was to arrange Guo's funeral according to the method of setting up a pavilion by the street to stop the spirit.
The entire hour of the morning, the funeral started, gunfire was fired three times, inviting a civil official to officiate the ceremony, and a military general to pay homage.
After which, twenty-four coffin bearers carried the coffin out of the door, all wearing red tassel hats and green framed coats.
Each had shaven heads, bathed in advance to rid of dust, wearing only boots, and trousers. The thirty-two man coffin changed shifts three times, totaling ninety-six people, arranged in a word-long snake formation over two miles.
A group of people swept grandly along, with various flags and banners along the way, papermen, and paper horses; the white paper money tossed as if from a family-run bank, recklessly scattered.
The last big act of such scale was the funeral of the forensic doctor, Wang Lingyuan, in Linjiang County.
Yet, the people of Jinmen Prefecture City had never seen anything like it!
At the sight of it, those ignorant might think some noble had 'passed away'.
While filled with sorrow, Guo Baolin also secretly marveled.
His Uncle Xu was truly willing to spend; clearly, he was a man of deep feelings and loyalty!
He'd better appease him well; who knows in the future...
Ah, ptooey! He's waiting to inherit the original Dongyang Travelogue, how can he go before his uncle?
These trivial matters in the minds of the common folk, circling like chickens' guts.
Xu Qing paid no mind, burying the old friend in the exclusive graveyard at Wujue Slope, giving Senior Brother Wang some company, eliminating loneliness. Then, he resumed his usual tranquil duties of corpse collection and funeral arrangements.
However, though life was calm, he still remembered the matters in the White Cloud Cave.