Chapter 1255 – War Approaches (Sixteen)
“Father, I’ll stay here in the mourning hall; you should go rest for a while.”
Liu Heng whispered to Liu Ji, his expression heavy with fatigue, the dark circles under his eyes growing deeper.
It was as if the Liu family had been cursed this year—nothing seemed to go right.
First, the Hejian Zhang Clan and Huang Song colluded secretly to betray Hejian County, resulting in the entire Liu family being placed under house arrest.
Then, the Old Matriarch became so enraged that she passed away from it, and Father fainted from grief during the wake, forcing himself to manage the funeral despite being unwell. Liu Heng watched as Father aged over ten years in just a few days, the comfortable, refined demeanor he was used to replaced by one of despair and sickness.
Liu Ji was ill, very ill—he had just coughed up a mouthful of blood-tinged phlegm.
Seeing this made Liu Heng’s heart race with fear, worried that Father might overexert himself and follow Grandma to the afterlife. He repeatedly urged him to rest.
However, Liu Ji was extremely stubborn; not only did he refuse to rest, but he also insisted on overseeing all the funeral arrangements for the Old Matriarch.
“It’s alright—”
“Father, your health is the priority. If Grandma sees this from the beyond, she’ll be heartbroken.”
Liu Heng said all the comforting words he could, but Liu Ji remained unmoved.
“…burn more joss money for your grandmother…” Liu Ji began, but was cut off by another bout of coughing, his dim eyes losing all luster. “Also, make sure to increase the oil donations to the temple by twenty percent; we need the monks there to do their best, reciting more scriptures every day.”
There were many temples near Hejian County, and most local gentry were Buddhists.
With the Old Matriarch’s passing, they naturally needed to invite the most esteemed monks to perform sutras for her soul—doing so for forty-nine days!
After all this effort, Liu Ji’s condition worsened significantly; in just a few days, it had reduced him to a mere shadow of his former self.
Seeing this, Liu Heng’s eyes filled with moisture.
He hadn’t realized how deep his father’s feelings for Grandma were, nor how dedicated he was to her posthumous affairs.
The deceased must be honored above all.
As a younger generation, Liu Heng didn’t dare to resent Grandma for her past misdeeds; everything seemed to have faded away.
He said, “I understand, and I will make sure to donate an extra twenty percent for the joss money.”
Following customary practices, the period of mourning varied according to a family’s financial situation—some families mourned for seven days, others for thirty-seven, fifty-seven, or even forty-nine. Ordinary households usually held a seven-day mourning period before burial, while slightly wealthier families extended it. Influential ones like the Liu family would follow the forty-nine-day mourning for the Old Matriarch.
Once the mourning concluded, the subsequent funeral would follow, with a grand burial, placing her coffin alongside Liu Ji’s late father.
The long forty-nine days would not only torment the body of the Old Matriarch but also test the patience of her grieving descendants.
Liu Ji’s illness made his suffering even harsher; just after the initial seven days of mourning, he fell gravely ill, leaving Liu Heng to manage the funeral arrangements.
Upon hearing this news, Huang Song exclaimed, “Liu Ji is also ill? Is that true?”
Watching over the mourners was exhausting, especially during this transitional season, and many members of the Liu clan were falling sick. The Young Doctor’s staff was stretched thin, forcing them to hire from outside the estate. Huang Song seized this opportunity to plant a few spies, ensuring that the Young Doctor treating Liu Ji was one of his own.
The Young Doctor dared not hide anything and quickly reported back to Huang Song, “It’s absolutely true; his body is severely depleted, both internally and externally weak, compounded by excessive worry and stress. If he doesn’t rest and get treatment soon, he may not make it to the Old Matriarch’s burial day—”
Huang Song’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Is it that serious?”
The Young Doctor nodded, “It’s only getting worse.”
“The Liu family has really hit rock bottom this year—first the Old Matriarch passes, and now the eldest son is on the brink of death. Are we going to have back-to-back funerals?” Huang Song couldn’t care less whether Liu Ji lived or died; he only worried about being blamed if Liu Ji did pass away. “Go back and treat him well—whatever medicine can help, use it without reservation. Even if you have to use strong medicine, keep him alive; don’t let him die.”
Huang Song didn’t want to recite two memorials within a month; it was just too ominous.
If Liu Ji died, the blame would inevitably fall on him. How unjust would that be!
After hearing Huang Song’s instructions, the Young Doctor worked tirelessly to care for Liu Ji.
Days passed, and Huang Song received news from scouts that Jiang Pengji had sent a messenger to pay her respects.
“Who did Lan Ting send over?”
Cheng Jing replied, “Wei Ci, Wei Zixiao!”
“Wei Ci? I remember he’s a fellow disciple of Youmo; it seems Lan Ting values him highly.”
After all, representing oneself in mourning was reserved for trusted confidants.
Cheng Jing added, “Zixiao shines like the moon; though not as bright as the sun, he has his own brilliance—it’s only normal that he would be esteemed by Lan Ting.”
Being fellow disciples, some mutual flattery was standard practice.
Of course, this wasn’t blind praise.
Wei Ci already had impressive administrative skills, but his low profile and lack of competitive spirit made him less noticeable.
Time passed, and on the second day, Wei Ci arrived in Hejian County, looking travel-worn.
Under the shadow of impending war, Hejian County felt desolate and cold; nearby farms lay fallow and overgrown, with farmers long absent from their fields. Although Huang Song didn’t employ heavy troops to seize Hejian County, many common people hurriedly left, escaping with their families.
Entering the city, streets were empty, taverns and teahouses shut tight, and the steps were draped in moss and thick dust.
As the messenger sent by Jiang Pengji, Huang Song wouldn’t let him roam free in his territory without scrutiny and conducted a thorough check.
No matter what tactics Wei Ci employed, he handled everything with impeccable grace.
Due to Jiang Pengji’s influence, the Liu family had been isolated by the Hejian gentry; the area around their old residence felt eerily quiet, with faint sounds of weeping lingering in the air. In light of the Old Matriarch’s death, many gentry had chosen to distance themselves, declining to pay their respects, such as the Shangguan clan.
This sort of cold reception had never been seen, even in the toughest times.
Of course, some were brave, and some were not; Qi Guanrang’s father-in-law, Wei Yuan, was bold enough to arrive in mourning attire.
Wind-blown and weary, Wei Ci hurried to the mourning hall, prompting Liu Heng to quickly send a servant to receive him.
Meanwhile, Liu Heng informed his ill father, Liu Ji.
Having been bedridden for days, Liu Ji’s health had improved somewhat, his mind clearer.
Upon hearing that Jiang Pengji had sent someone for mourning, he stared blankly for a long while, his expression a mix of emotions.
Liu Heng felt puzzled.
Ever since his father’s illness, he had often seen this enigmatic look on his face.
“Her thoughtfulness is rare… Heng’er, be sure to treat the messenger well; don’t let him feel unwelcome.”
Liu Heng responded, “Understood.”
