"Bang…… boom……” A firework with a fiery glow flew into the calm morning sky of Wang Zhuang at dawn, and then exploded loudly. People who were light sleepers immediately woke up, got out of bed, and rushed out of their courtyard doors as soon as they heard two more explosions.

  The firecrackers sounded three times, this is the first thing to do after someone dies in rural areas, roughly meaning that someone has passed away, notify others, this is a rule left for thousands of years, one more sound or less would not be proper. People on the road asked each other whose family was sending out funeral signals and who from which family might have ascended to heaven.

  The elderly men were solemnly smoking their pipes, thinking that this time it must be another childhood friend who had left first, and the next one in the village would be themselves. The women didn't need to be called upon, they quickly prepared to go and help with the funeral, as rural funerals required a lot of helpers. The younger men were naturally representatives of their own families and were preparing to make an effort, some carrying coffins, others building graves, and some even going to serve as pallbearers. In those days, reporting a death was also a very solemn matter. As for the children, they were kept at home by their older grandmothers and not allowed out, fearing that they would be affected by bad luck. Actually, most of the time, children in such situations didn't feel sad, on the contrary, they thought it was a lively occasion because it was a rare village gathering.

  Before long, the representatives of all the families in the village had basically gathered at the Wang's house. Everyone was discussing who else had died in the Wang family, and sharp-eyed people had already seen that Daoist Zhang Wenbin had put on his purple golden robe and was standing in the Wang's courtyard.

  The obituary was written by Cha Wenbin himself, using red paper to write down the time of He Lao's ascension to heaven, and also calculated which zodiac signs and eight characters would be affected. This is to inform everyone that some people need to avoid it, otherwise they might get affected.

  When the villagers learned that it was Old He who had passed away, they began to sigh and lament. Although Old He was not a native of Wangzhuang, he was like a fellow villager. He was straightforward and kind, and among those who could claim kinship with the village, he was the most knowledgeable. He was an expert in his field, and whenever the villagers needed to go to the provincial city on business, they would mostly go to find him. As long as it was fellow villagers who went, Old He would often invite them to stay for a meal and arrange for them to spend the night at his home.

  "He Lao is a good man!", everyone in the village says so.

  As usual, Zhang Wenbin himself acted as an undertaker first because he had only one son, Chaozi, so the task of bathing the elderly fell on his nephew Wang Xin.

  When the village women helped He Lao put on his funeral clothes, they found that this old man's chest had shrunk to only a few ribs, and they were so heartbroken that tears fell like pearls.

  He Lao walked with his eyes closed, while Chao Zi knelt down behind him and refused to get up. Wherever He Lao's body was, he would kneel there, not taking a single step, even walking on his knees.

  The wooden gate of the Wang family was taken down and placed in the main room, with two long benches placed underneath to support it. On top of the gate, a layer of red satin bedding was spread out, and He Lao, dressed in his funeral attire, lay on top, covered by a thin quilt. He Lao looked very peaceful, as if he were just sleeping, even when people later cleaned his room and found that the spittoon under the table had turned red. This old man left this world with great dignity and composure.

  Cha Wenbin secretly felt that he must do a good job with this funeral for him, and let his friend go well on the last journey.

  The mourning hall was set up in the main house, where many people had been sent off before. Perhaps even Old Man Wang hadn't expected that his own daughter and son-in-law would also leave from here in the end.

  A large, pitch-black coffin had been carried in by the villagers with thick hemp ropes, creaking as it was placed beside He Lao's body. It was supported by two large stools and covered with a white funeral banner. This coffin had originally been prepared for Wang Lao Tai's wife, who was now the oldest person in the village of Wangzhuang. She had lost her father, then her daughter, and now even her son-in-law had passed away before her. The coffin was being used for him first.

  The old lady of the Wang family was strong and resilient, but she couldn't withstand these successive blows. She lay in bed, crying silently, while several of her granddaughters-in-law were taking care of her.

  The filial sons of the Wang family were all wearing white mourning clothes, with hemp ropes tied around their waists, standing on both sides of the mourning hall to greet the guests who came to offer condolences. He Yichao and Wang Xin, as well as their wives, and He Lao's grandchildren, were all dressed in mourning clothes, kneeling in front of the mourning hall, wailing loudly. In rural areas, there is a saying that the more people cry at a funeral, the smoother the deceased will pass on. He Yichao's eyes were red-rimmed as he burned paper money one after another, and suddenly couldn't hold back his emotions, letting out a loud wail.

  "Dad, you just closed your eyes and left, going to find mom. How can you bear to leave me alone in this world? I'm not even married yet, and you haven't even held your grandson...". He muttered to himself about how he would take care of his mother after his father was gone.

  Others heard him wailing and couldn't help but feel sad, so they all started crying too. As he spoke, Chaozi suddenly rushed towards his father's body like a madman, but was firmly pinned to the ground by Zhuo Xiong and Heng Roulian. Chaozi's nose was bleeding profusely, and his face was covered in a mess of tears and snot, it was truly heartbreaking.

  Cha Wenbin didn't usually have to do anything during the day, but there were other things that had been entrusted to him, things that Daoist priests normally wouldn't bother with. This time, however, he took care of it personally.

  The first is writing couplets.

  In this village, after someone's death, a couplet is written, similar to Spring Festival couplets in size, but it must be written on white rice paper with black ink. After completion, it is posted on both sides of the gate. For three years thereafter, the family is not allowed to post red couplets during Chinese New Year, indicating that they are observing a three-year mourning period and cannot participate in any celebrations. The couplet pasted at He Lao's gate was written by Cha Wenbin himself:

  The crane's chariot has followed the cloud shadows

  The couplet reads: The cuckoo's cry still carries the chill of moonlight.

  Horizontal inscription: Bao Wu star sinks

  These large characters, each one is square and upright, with powerful strokes, all written by Zhang Wenbin in one breath. Some elderly people in Wangzhuang who love calligraphy looked at this couplet and couldn't help but privately comment that the several characters written by Zhang Daoshi are really beautiful and have momentum!

  The second thing is to write a letter of condolence for the person who sent it.

  In rural areas at that time, communication was not convenient, and telephones were not yet universal, let alone mobile phones. In earlier times, when reporting a death, people would choose someone with strong legs in the village to deliver the news. At that time, it was customary to give the person reporting the death a new pair of cloth shoes with thick soles. Later on, people took shortcuts and changed to giving out a pair of liberation shoes instead, which the messenger would wear to notify distant relatives to come and mourn.

  This funeral has its own rules, and Cha Wenbin informed those who sent messages about these precautions.

  First: If possible, walk instead of taking a car. This is a sign of respect for the deceased. If you really can't make it on foot, don't talk to others on the way. And definitely don't take out what's in this envelope and show it to strangers.

  Secondly, if you encounter a long road and need to stay overnight, you cannot go to a farmer's house to borrow a place to stay. This is very disrespectful and will bring bad luck to the host family. If you really can't hold on, you can only choose to spend the night in the old ancestral hall of the village.

  Third: When arriving at the recipient's home, do not enter the door, but instead call out to the owner from outside the door. This is also to avoid bringing bad luck inside. Furthermore, it is not allowed to dine with the recipient on the way, and the recipient must wait until they arrive at Wangzhuang to eat white tofu for their first meal. On the way, they can snack on dry rations brought from here.

  Fourth: After returning to Wangzhuang, you need to take the person to the mourning hall to kowtow and burn incense before you can return home. Before entering the door, you need to take off your shoes, enter barefoot, then grab a handful of rice mixed with tea leaves and scatter it outside the main gate. Then, you must immediately go to bathe and change clothes, which is also to prevent the person reporting the funeral from bringing bad luck back home. Because they are delivering funeral notices, some lonely ghosts on the road may see them and follow them, looking for an opportunity to reincarnate, and it's easy to bring them into their own home.

  So running errands is a tough job, and those who are willing to do it usually have a good relationship with the master's family. Fortunately, Mr. He and Wang's family have always been respected, so there is no shortage of people to choose from.

  The third thing is to help write a few talismans, paste them on the big door, and hang them up. This black talisman paper is for the door god, with the purpose of not letting those wild ghosts come in and rush to reincarnate. It's also for the sake of doing seven later, so that the owner's family can have a peaceful life.

  After finishing all this, Cha Wenbin spent the whole day guarding the long-sleeping lamp, occasionally adding some oil to it, adjusting the flame to make it burn brighter, muttering to himself that he wanted He Lao to see clearly on his way and not trip. At this moment, Cha Wenbin didn't look like a Taoist at all, but rather like someone who had lost an old friend and felt desolate.

  The women in the village were busy washing vegetables and dishes; the men were divided into several groups, one group set up tents at the door, eating was under this open tent, another group was responsible for slaughtering pigs and sheep and making tofu, this tofu is the most important thing on white happy occasions, some were responsible for moving tables and chairs, and others were responsible for entertaining guests.

  In short, everyone in the village has their own duties and no one is idle. In a rural area where material life is not developed, people rely on unity and mutual help to get by. When one family has trouble, ten thousand families come to help.

  Originally, Lao He's funeral would have gone according to plan, but no one expected that the thing Cha Wenbin had repeatedly warned about would still end up going awry...

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