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  The first time I truly saw a funeral and clearly remembered the scene was when my grandfather passed away, that year, I was five years old.

  Grandfather died of lung disease, and his breathing was very difficult when he passed away. At the age of five, my memory had already started to form, and it was around four o'clock in the afternoon. Many relatives were surrounding Grandfather's bed at home. The old man on the bed had his eyes wide open, and his throat seemed to be blocked by phlegm. Every breath was accompanied by a "huffing" sound.

  The children were all shouting for their father, each "Dad" might be the last time he heard it. I remember that at that time, I was the only grandson by his side, because my older brothers and sisters were all on their way home from school. The adults asked me to call him grandpa, but the more people there were, the more embarrassed I became and refused to call out. Taking advantage of the adults' inattention, I slipped away to the courtyard to play alone and even knocked over someone's high-end Yamaha motorcycle at that time.

  For that matter, I was beaten severely, around 7 o'clock in the evening, when Cha Wenbin helped Grandfather into his coffin. At that time, I was still young and seemed to have inherited some of Old Xia's talents. I saw several people wearing white clothes on the bridge who took Grandfather away with them. Later, I realized they were the yin messengers. It is said that after a person dies, the yin messengers will come to take you away, leading you along the Yellow Spring Road and across the Naihe Bridge. They can traverse both the yin and yang realms and are the soul-summoning envoys from the underworld.

  Actually, the Yin messengers are not that scary. To them, it's just a job. There is no conflict or intersection between them and us. You may not even know they exist, passing by you every day, until one day when they come for you, meaning everything has already come to an end...

  Yes, Yuan Xiaobai has now reached the end of his life, like a candle on an altar, although it is struggling to sway its flame, but the fire is already dwindling and will soon burn out.

  Regarding life and death, Cha Wenbin views it lightly. He has never known who his parents were since birth, and over the years, he has never personally bid farewell to his loved ones. Ma Suifeng is a Taoist cultivator, and from a young age, he instilled in this beloved disciple the reasoning of life that death is predetermined, and wealth and nobility are in heaven. In his view, life and death are as natural as flowers blooming and falling, so logical and reasonable.

  At around 7 or 8 o'clock in the evening, Cha Wenbin was crouched alone and quietly in front of the coffin. On the ground, there was an iron pot with a half-full pile of paper ash inside. The flickering embers looked like distorted human faces. On the table, several offerings were also covered with a layer of paper ash, resembling snowflakes. The room was filled with the pungent smell of incense and burning paper money, which would take at least half a month to dissipate even with open windows. Rural people called this smell "funeral smell".

  The door is now half-closed, probably because there are still onlookers waiting outside. After a long time of smoke and fire, Zhang Wenbin's eyes have become severely red and swollen. He felt cold all day, the fire in the brazier was burning fiercely, and the expensive solid wood coffin had fine cracks in the paint, which were caused by the heat.

  The paper man and paper horse in the house are now his companions. Those things are really not well-made, Cha Wenbin looked at the boys and girls on both sides with some disdain. The red rouge on their faces and the green clothes on their bodies look so rough, compared to Zhejiang's old brand "Shoulin Xiang" Lin Shifu, this is simply a waste product, and the price of such a thing is still sold at an astonishingly high price.

  Cha Wenbin was probably also tired, he had been squatting there for almost a whole day, his thighs had long since lost all feeling. Staring at the half-open mouth of the paper girl, Cha Wenbin always felt that this paper person was mocking him, vaguely he even thought he could hear the girl's "heh heh" crisp laughter.

  He casually picked up a cold mantou from the plate, which was an offering, and threw it at the green skirted girl with a crooked face. It hit her right in the face, and now her neck, which was originally tied to her body with a bamboo skewer, was completely twisted to one side, making her look even uglier.

  This ugly thing even made Zha Wenbin laugh, so he sat with his legs crossed and said to the paper person: "Hehe, look at your unlucky appearance, which family would want you as a servant girl?" The more he looked at the paper person, the more he found it funny, and he couldn't stop laughing, "hahaha" ... He laughed and laughed until he started crying, wailing...

  He couldn't bear it, he was in pain, he wanted to talk to people. Later, Cha Wenbin had done countless funerals for others, always with a serious face, never showing any expression, I even thought he was a person without emotions, later I found out that he also had love before.

  That damned clock struck again, and with each strike, the sound reverberated through the three-story old house, "Dong... Dong...", that thing was louder than the exorcism bell in his hand. On the dial, midnight had arrived, Zha Wenbin rubbed his legs hard, they were numb all day, patted the ashes on his pants, and adjusted his clothes.

  She got up, lifted her head and took a light glance at the beauty in the coffin, with a flush on her face, as if she had drunk too much wine.

  "True beauty..." His voice had already begun to hoarsen, and slowly in the blurry line of sight, on the front of that coffin, there was a skylight, just a layer of transparent glass, directly facing Xiaobai's face. Several thick layers of yellow paper were gently moved by him, roughly the same size as the skylight, completely covering it when he took out the Tianpeng ruler from his arms and pressed it down, even the strongest gusts of wind couldn't blow it open.

  "He whispered to the coffin: 'No one but me has the right to see you now, including them...'"

  It's time to set off, just like the send-off on the platform at the train station. Each train has its own fixed route and track, and the passengers on board have long since bought their tickets for the final destination of life.

  The creaking sound, the gate was opened, and three vertical strips of black talismans hung from the lintel. Midnight Shanghai was a bright start, but the yard of the Yuan family was as quiet as death.

  With a rustling sound, Cha Wenbin grabbed a handful of paper money and threw it towards the sky. Instantly, the paper money transformed into falling leaves, fluttering and drifting everywhere.

  Cha Wenbin now looked like a mourning dog that had been drenched in rain, tucking his tail and shivering under the eaves. Suddenly, a glint flashed in his eyes, and he let out a loud wail: "Leaving the old house to live in a new one, the deceased departs for the Western Paradise; Heaven has jade pillars, earth has beams, life is peaceful, death is stable, prosperity forever; Early attainment of enlightenment, correct fruit, great auspiciousness after burial."

  In his hand was a small gong, similar to an ordinary plate used for serving food, made of copper, with a hole in the center and a red silk ribbon tied around it.

  He grasped that gong and "clanged" it once, striking it down. Then he let out a loud shout: "Soul-calling chicken come! Take the deceased to the Western Paradise."

  "In the Western Heaven, one can become a Buddha and forever safeguard the prosperity of one's family for generations to come." As soon as he finished speaking, from beside his foot, a bamboo basket appeared, inside which was a large rooster with a crest on its head, who was currently dozing off, but was suddenly scooped up by Zhang Wenbin.

  With a swift slash of the knife, he cut off about one-third of the size of the rooster's crest on top of its head. The rooster was suddenly awakened by the pain and was about to explode in anger. Zhang Wenbin took advantage of the situation and threw the rooster into the courtyard, where it seemed to have been liberated, narrowly escaping the enemy's clutches, and immediately began to run wildly in all directions.

  The more the chicken hurts, the faster it runs; the faster it runs, the more its comb bleeds.

  Along with its beautiful plumage, the chicken's blood was scattered all over the ground, dripping down the steps of the gate and flowing towards the entrance of the courtyard.

  This is the highest courtesy given to Yin, equivalent to rolling out the red carpet now. The blood of a rooster is originally a thing that wards off evil spirits, and things in the yin world are afraid of it when they see it. It's one of the nemesis of lonely souls and wild ghosts. It's said that things from the underworld are afraid of it because as soon as the rooster crows, dawn breaks, and at dawn, it's no longer their world. Therefore, the rooster is also a representative of Yang.

  But the yin difference is different, to put it in a more mysterious way, the yin difference is like a civil servant, with a fixed position and eating imperial rations. They are not ghosts, but rather low-level gods, similar to the Shanghai police station of the past. These things have gadgets at their waist and power in their hands, the dead person doesn't care what you did when you were alive, once you're in front of them, everyone is a prisoner.

  The rooster's blood can scare away ghosts, but it cannot harm the yin messengers. On the contrary, when the ghost sees the chicken blood all over the ground, it will be so scared that it will tremble with fear and immediately get a taste of its own medicine. This even more highlights the image of the yin messengers' grandeur. Therefore, exploring China's folk customs is very interesting, whether it's religion or folk traditions, everywhere reveals these rich and thoughtful details.

  There is no communication between Taoist priests and Yin messengers. To put it bluntly, Yin messengers look down on Taoist priests, who often need the help of Yin messengers. What is called "doing rituals"? After a person dies, Taoist priests hold peach wood swords in their hands, singing and dancing at the deceased's home. Do you think they are doing that for nothing?

  It sounds nice to call it "helping the deceased ascend", but in reality, it's just flattering the underworld officials. Ninety-nine percent of Taoist priests don't have the ability to send the deceased to the underworld, if they really could, wouldn't they themselves be gone? They're actually entrusting those underworld officials to take good care of the dead. Since you're asking someone for a favor, you need to show respect, so the children must burn incense and paper money frantically. Don't think these are for the deceased to use, he can't take them with him, even if he could, it wouldn't be his turn to receive them, they're all for the underworld officials.

  Cha Wenbin stood outside the house, holding a white lantern with both hands and his head slightly bowed. He only needed to listen with his ears. The symbol on the door beam was an alarm device. As soon as the Yin family members appeared, those symbols would make a rustling sound in the first time. Later, whoever saw it must not think that it was blown by the wind. The wind really couldn't blow that kind of symbol. Do you know why? Because the symbol on it was painted with the guardian symbol of Qing San Xian, which was made of black paper soaked in glutinous rice water and dried. It could not be folded or stacked, and it was impossible to bend, because once it bent, it would break...

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