From within and without, Black Mane Palace was decorated in white. The entirety of Liuling City did away with their bright red decorations and the disciples, who were normally seen in their black uniforms, donned the same mourning color. There was a collective somberness in every corner of the territory under Black Mane Palace’s rule. And a quietness that didn’t normally exist, penetrated deep into their bones.
The clouds had been hanging overhead the past few days and it began to pour on the day of the funeral procession.
The six Saints, headed by Ge Jinsheng, rode slowly through the streets of Liuling, on the back of their horses. The moment the coffin passed, civilians got to their knees and bowed low. The strangers who had never known Luo Wanming personally wept quietly. Those who saw Luo Qianwu whispered pitying words amongst themselves.
When night fell, their group was only halfway to their destination.
Ge Jinsheng glanced at Luo Qianwu and placed a bowl full of rice and other dishes in front of him. The youth started and looked up.
“Eat,” Ge Jinsheng said. “If you don’t eat, you won’t have the energy to finish the procession.”
Luo Qianwu pursed his lips. He picked up the chopsticks and ate voraciously.
“Eat slowly,” Ge Jinsheng said.
Luo Qianwu nodded. He wiped the tears from his eyes and ducked his head back down to the bowl of rice.
Ge Jinsheng glanced over his shoulder, at the Saints who pretended as if they saw nothing.
Ge Nianlan sat, not too far away, with Na Yongkai.
Unfortunately, the funeral procession could only be performed by upper members of Black Mane Palace. Ge Nianlan was allowed to come because he was the young lord. Na Yongkai could come because they represented the Raven Saint. As for Zheng Yuying and Yong Chenyu, the two were left back at Black Mane Palace. But, because of this, Ge Nianlan felt uneasy.
Zheng Yuying wasn’t here to help comfort the mourning Luo Qianwu, but was it still okay?
Na Yongkai tapped Ge Nianlan’s shoulder and held up a piece of paper.
“Young Lord, you should eat too.”
Ge Nianlan shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
Na Yongkai frowned. They picked up a bun and held it out to Ge Nianlan and held up one finger.
Ge Nianlan thought about it for a moment and let out a soft sigh. He took the bun and ate it slowly.
Following dinner, the group dispersed to their own rooms and got ready for bed. But Ge Nianlan could not fall asleep.
After tossing and turning for a long time, he finally stood and went outside.
To his surprise, he wasn’t the only person who was sleepless.
Sitting on the steps was Luo Qianwu. The youth had his head lowered as tears silently fell from his eyes. In his hands was a broad sword, that vibrated softly, as if it were trying to comfort him. Ge Nianlan hesitated for a moment before walking over to the teenager. He sat down beside him and stared ahead wordlessly.
Luo Qianwu didn’t acknowledge his presence and the two boys sat like this for a long time.
“It’s his sword.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Ge Nianlan glanced over. “A sentient spiritual sword.”
“Zc,” Oeb Hljcke tewwfv. “P tjv atbeuta la kbeiv tjnf vfragbsfv larfio joafg ws ecmif qjrrfv, yea la vlvc’a.”
Xf Rljcijc qegrfv tlr ilqr.
Vqlglaeji rkbgvr kfgf lcafiilufca jcv wjcs kfgf ibsji. Ycmf atflg bkcfgr qjrrfv, atfs kbeiv rfio-vfragema. Qtlif la kjrc’a bvv atja j rqlgla rkbgv vlvc’a rfio-vfragema, atf bcf atja yfibcufv ab Oeb Qjcwlcu, ktb obiibkfv tlw atgbeut atlmx jcv atlc, kbeiv regfis cba yf rb rfio-mfcafgfv ab gfwjlc jilnf klatbea lar bkcfg.
“He gave it to me,” Luo Qianwu said.
The youth clutched the sword tightly to his chest as a fresh bout of tears rolled down his cheeks. “My uncle…my uncle gave me his sword.”
“…He’s still protecting you,” Ge Nianlan softly said.
Luo Qianwu nodded. He lowered his head until he touched his knees. His shoulders trembled tremendously as he tried his best not to cry any louder. Ge Nianlan placed a hand on Luo Qianwu’s back reassuringly.
“Young Lord…”
“…Mm.”
“It’s just me now,” Luo Qianwu whispered. He held his sword tighter to his chest as he choked back a sob. “In the Luo Clan, there is only me left.”
Ge Nianlan felt his chest ache. He sniffled slightly and held his head up to prevent tears from falling. He shifted closer and hugged Luo Qianwu tightly.
“It’s okay. You’ll be fine,” Ge Nianlan said. “You may be the last person in the Luo Clan, but you still have so many people. You have Zheng-jiejie, my father, Yongkai, Huai Zhen, and the Saints. And your many friends. You may be the last person in your clan, but you aren’t alone.”
Luo Qianwu squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “I miss them so much. Young Lord…I’ll never be able to see my uncle again.”
Ge Nianlan didn’t know what to say. He wanted to comfort Luo Qianwu—to tell him that he was already much happier than he could have been, but could he even say that? What if there was actually a cure for Luo Wanming’s poison? If Ge Nianlan had tried harder and thought about it deeper, would he have been able to find one? Then, Luo Wanming probably wouldn’t have died, right? And Luo Qianwu wouldn’t be crying like this now.
It was just a shame that the world could not be restarted at every whim of a human.
Ge Nianlan accompanied Luo Qianwu until he passed out from crying. The only reason Ge Nianlan didn’t spend the night with his body completely numb was because Wen Yuqing walked by on her way to the bathroom.
The two people helped Luo Qianwu back to his room and Ge Nianlan tucked him into bed.
Once they were in the hallway again, Wen Yuqing glanced at Ge Nianlan.
“Are you okay?”
“Mn,” Ge Nianlan hummed. He glanced at Wen Yuqing. “You can go to the bathroom. I’ll head back to my room.”
“The moment’s kind of gone.”
Ge Nianlan stared at her oddly.
Wen Yuqing glared at him. “I just lost the feeling! I didn’t pee myself!”
“…I didn’t say you peed your pants.”
“Your eyes said it,” Wen Yuqing snapped.
Ge Nianlan took a step back, warily. “You’re projecting.”
Wen Yuqing huffed. She shook her head. “Well, you seem fine.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ge Nianlan asked.
“This is your first time witnessing a death, isn’t it?” Wen Yuqing said. “Even if it isn’t someone you were particularly close to, it was someone who was close to your friend.”
Ge Nianlan hummed absentmindedly. “Yeah, I suppose.”
It was indeed his first time experiencing the death of his friend’s loved one. However, it was not his first time witnessing the death of a person. He had seen many people die, multiple times over, in front of his own eyes. Although they were all in nightmares, they felt real—from the splatter of blood against his skin, to their last dying breath, drawing from their chilling body.
This was different, Ge Nianlan supposed. The deaths he witnessed came from bloodshed and he was always the only one left behind to mourn. This time was probably the first time he witnessed tears that didn’t belong to him.
Wen Yuqing observed him for a moment longer. “Then, I’m leaving.”
“Mn,” Ge Nianlan hummed.
Ge Nianlan watched Wen Yuqing leave. He turned on his heel and headed back to his room. He pushed the doors open, stepped in, and fell onto his bed. He turned around as he rolled himself up in the blankets and stared blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t want to sleep, but the fatigue of traveling slowly grabbed onto him, and pulled him into the abyss of nightmares.
As per tradition, the funeral march took them first to the cemetery that housed the past Saints and leaders of Black Mane Palace. Following that, the group continued, out of Liuling City, until they reached the borders. Then, at Sijun River, the group finally stopped.
Paper lotuses, that had been folded carefully by the party members or collected from the civilians during the course of their journey, were slowly taken out and handed to each participating member.
Once night fell, a bonfire was lit, and Ge Jinsheng stood in front of the river, with the Saints.
“…Thank you. You can rest now, my old friend,” Ge Jinsheng said. “And if we meet again in our next life…I would like to buy you a drink again.”
Once the first paper lotus was placed in the river, the remaining ones followed. The Saints, Ge Nianlan, and Na Yongkai first placed their own in the water, before they each took a bag and began to release the well wishes of the civilians into the river as well.
Luo Qianwu watched silently as the calm river was slowly filled with lotus flowers, each one representing a person’s wishes for his late uncle. The tears that dried up days ago slowly welled back up. He breathed out a shaky sigh, then joined the others in releasing the lotus flowers into the river.
Once they finished, Ge Jinsheng turned to the group of somber looking faces.
“It’s time to feast.”
The departure of a person in the Yinxue Region was meant to be a celebration, rather than a time of mourning. After all, many people lost their lives daily. Rather than feeling sad for every one of them, the people of the Yinxue Region preferred celebrating whatever they accomplished, whether big or small. Therefore, after the funeral procession was over, the departed’s family would gather together and have a heart meal, full of wine and good food.
Ge Nianlan sat and watched the lotus flowers drift as the Saints argued about how best to prepare the meat.
His eyes widened slowly as the river’s movements became a little strange. Soon, the flow of the water became a little more rapid. The lotus flowers gathered together. Those that had drifted too far were pulled back and those that were lagging behind were pulled forward. In a bundle, the paper flowers traveled down the river. The sound of giggles and cheer accompanied this phenomenon. And, eventually, the flowers disappeared out of sight.
Ge Nianlan let out a short sound.
“What’s wrong?” Nie Chenhui asked.
Ge Nianlan pointed towards the river. “They’ve all disappeared.”
Nie Chenhui glanced over and let out a low whistle. “It must be because Old Luo was popular. Even the ghosts in the river like him.”
“What?” Ge Nianlan looked at Nie Chenhui. “What does that mean?”
“Young Lord, do you not know the old legend?” Wen Yuqing asked.
Ge Nianlan shook his head.
“The souls in Sijun River are ghosts who are waiting for their loved ones to return to their side. Some are waiting for vengeance, I suppose,” Wen Yuqing said with a shrug. “However, the reason we have the tradition of setting out paper lotus flowers is because once we place them in, we are relying on these ghosts to bring our messages to the recently departed.”
Wen Yuqing pointed. “Down there is the Yellow Springs. Since it’s headed in the right direction, that means Old Luo will receive it.”
Ge Nianlan let out a soft hum of understanding. “The ghosts are very kind.”
“They have nothing else to do while they wait,” Zhao Cuihong joked. “So, they do a little bit of charity once in a while and accumulate some good karma along the way.”
Ge Nianlan turned back to the river.
If he died, he wanted to become a ghost like that. Though, he didn’t think he would have anyone to wait for. He wondered if the ghosts in Sijun River would just let a ghost with no lingering feelings to hang around with them. If he was going to have to wait for reincarnation, he wanted to deliver letters to the deceased too.
A piece of skewered beef was handed to him. Ge Nianlan ate it and remained concentrated on the waters that had returned to normal.
The party continued deep into the night until the Saints drank themselves drunk. Even Ge Jinsheng sat to the side with his eyes closed. At some point in time, Na Yongkai had fallen asleep on Ge Nianlan, and Ge Nianlan was the only one awake and sober.
He glanced across the fire at Luo Qianwu, who was still awake. However, Ge Nianlan questioned his sobriety because of the wine bottle at his side.
Luo Qianwu noticed his gaze and smiled. “I’m fine now. There were so many people who wanted to talk to my uncle one last time. It was gratifying to see. I feel like…at least he didn’t die for nothing, you know?”
Ge Nianlan nodded. “I understand.”
Luo Qianwu sighed. “So, I’m fine now…tomorrow is a new day. And in another month, I’ll officially become the next Wolf Saint. I guess my only regret now is that I can’t be your guard until I’m settled into my position.”
By the time Luo Qianwu was able to be his guard again, Ge Nianlan would already be fifteen. And at fifteen, who knows what will happen then.
“Life happens,” Ge Nianlan said with a casual shrug. “But, Luo-gege.”
“Hm?”
“Are you happy now?” Ge Nianlan asked.
Luo Qianwu’s eyes widened a fraction. Although there was still a deep ache in his heart, the warmth and joy that surrounded him gave him his answer. He grinned, his smile wide as his nose soured.
“I’m happy.”
Aaaw A sad but comforting chapter
Thanks for the chapter ✨
Thanks for reading!!
Thanks for the chapter ^^
Thanks for reading!!
Thanks very much for the chapter.
thanks for reading