Chapter 2 Morning in Jiangzhou, Jinling
Xin Lei's coffin rested in the mourning hall, awaiting burial.
As Xin Lei had no descendants, only a few younger generations, designated by the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, helped support the coffin.
Ren Yin, Yin Shu, Tao Tu, and Hui Yang were the juniors, responsible for receiving guests in the hall. Bing Huo and Bai Hu, being elders, oversaw the proceedings.
Meanwhile, Nu Wa and Yao Shun sat together, their complexions mirroring the solemnity of the large coffin.
Nu Wa harbored a persistent question: what reason had driven Xin Lei to lead the meager remnants of the Fuxi sect to help her escape?
Was it for personal gain? After their escape, Xin Lei was left incapacitated, and the Fuxi faction suffered heavy casualties, rendering them incapable of contending for power with her or the Southeast Alliance.
Was it for fame? If so, why did he take his own life?
Could it truly have been for righteousness? It was ironic, indeed, that Xin Lei, who had lived a life of military service, readily sacrificing for his country, had no one to mourn him after death. He had lived a frugal life, and the meager wealth he left behind was insufficient even for a complete funeral.
Pondering this, Nu Wa found herself reflecting on Xin Lei's words during his speech.
Elsewhere, Mo Chuan activated his "Demonic Phantom" ability, concealing himself as he infiltrated the mourning hall.
After completing his mission, Mo Chuan had contacted Roni. He used a teleportation gate to send the unconscious Mo Fei and the three Wang brothers back to Luoyi before traveling to Jinling alone.
He had rushed to Jinling upon seeing Xin Lei's burial date in the newspaper, intending to help with the funeral and, more importantly, to accomplish a significant task. As one of the few elders who had looked after Mo Chuan, he knew his own rapid promotions and the numerous benefits he'd received at the Abilities Administration were largely due to this man's support. Even after discovering Mo Chuan was a Ghost King, Xin Lei had continued to pave his way, even introducing him to Tea Pig, clearly grooming him as a successor.
The weather in Jinling was fine that day, the sky clear, and the air carried the freshness of recent rain, mingled with a damp chill.
Hui Yang, acting as the master of ceremonies, glanced at his watch and announced in a resonant voice, "The auspicious time has arrived. Let us proceed with the burial."
As Ren Yin shattered a ceramic bowl, the attendants lifted the coffin, and the procession slowly moved out of the mourning hall.
Mo Chuan, maintaining his invisibility, followed behind, observing everyone's demeanor. Those who had escaped Dragon Capital with Nu Wa, along with the officials who had followed her to Jinling, displayed expressions of grief (though Mo Chuan sensed this was feigned in some). He could clearly discern the subtle details in their expressions.
The juniors, Ren Yin and Tao Tu, were genuinely sorrowful, their voices hoarse from crying. The contemporaries, Bing Huo and Hui Yang, bore a somber air, contemplating that Xin Lei's fate could easily have been their own. Nu Wa, the center of attention, appeared conflicted and introspective, seemingly lost in thought.
As for the representatives from the Southeast Alliance, not only were few in attendance, but not a single official with real power was present. Clearly, Xin Lei's speech had displeased the Southeast Alliance, but out of respect for Nu Wa, they had reluctantly arranged the funeral. Attendance was minimal, and avoiding disruption was considered a significant gesture of goodwill.
As Mo Chuan followed the procession out of the narrow streets and onto the main road, he witnessed something astonishing: thousands lined the streets to bid farewell.
At this moment, the sky began to be obscured by clouds, the sun, which had just begun to shine, was immediately hidden, and the gloom overhead intensified. The streetlights, still on from the early morning, and the flashing lights of police cars illuminated the scene, yet no shop signs offered their colorful glow. Police officers had cordoned off the area, silently guiding the crowd to the sides of the street. There were no shouts, no boisterous clamor, no dispersal orders. Similarly, there was no noisy chatter, no pushing, no crying. Instead, there was a tacit, profound silence.
The crowd watched in quiet reverence as Xin Lei's coffin was carried out of the alley. In the next alley, another group of people silently observed the procession passing by. Reporters quietly scribbled notes, and cameramen silently followed the coffin bearers. This somber scene continued until the procession left the inner city.
Only when Xin Lei's coffin had passed through the Xuanwu Gate did a young man bow towards it and declare, "General, may you rest in peace."
Following his lead, a thunderous chorus erupted from the crowd: "General, may you rest in peace!"
Raindrops began to fall from the sky.
...
After watching the final shovelfuls of earth fill the grave, Mo Chuan departed Jinling. There were still many tasks to attend to, and grief was no excuse for idleness.
...
However, after Mo Chuan's departure, a benevolent elder approached Hui Yang and Bing Huo.
"Gentlemen, would you accompany me for a conversation?"
As the elder spoke, time itself seemed to halt. Apart from the three of them, everything else slowed to an extreme degree. Hui Yang, seemingly recognizing the elder, bowed and said, "Greetings, Master." Bing Huo, realizing who it was, also quickly paid his respects.
"No need for formalities," the elder replied with a slight smile. "Follow me, then."
A glow emanated from the elder's hand, transforming into a Spring and Autumn brush. With a casual stroke, he drew them into the Spring and Autumn World.
"Confucius, may I ask why you sought us out?"
"Gongming (Bing Huo), were you present when Fuxi perished?"
"Indeed."
"And who else was present at the time?"
"Xin Lei, Jia Huang, Ren Yin, and myself."
"Fuxi did not die solely from heavenly retribution, did he? I had calculated his fate, and he had at least another decade to live."
"This..." Bing Huo glanced at Hui Yang, then at Confucius. Seeing the latter nod, he continued, "Lord Fuxi foresaw that the Dragon Kingdom would face ruin and devastation during an impending calamity. He first used the Seven Star Lamps to borrow seven years of life, and then he expended all his remaining life force to divine the nature of the calamity and alter destiny..."
"What?!" Hui Yang exclaimed in shock. Confucius's normally calm gaze now held a touch of weariness and resignation.
"Then... what did he leave behind?" Confucius asked Bing Huo. "Did he leave any beacon, any final words? Are there any clues regarding his act of altering fate?"
Bing Huo recalled the events and said, "Lord Fuxi's armillary sphere was struck by heavenly lightning during his attempt to alter fate. He instructed us to collect the scattered fragments of the armillary sphere's spiritual crystal and repair it. However, he did not specify what would happen after its repair or what our next course of action should be."
"And you gentlemen..."
"After we collected the fragments, we found we could not repair it immediately. Thus, the four of us each hold a quarter of the fragments. I currently possess half of it, and Ren Yin also holds a quarter, but..."
"But the final quarter is in Jia Huang's possession?" Confucius stated quietly.
"Precisely..."
"Hui Yang."
"Your junior is here."
"Come with me to the capital."