The position of the suona player was given to Liu Yiqu.

The entire Hundred Virtues Mortuary began to bustle with activity.

Of course, the main work was still done by Bai Yu and a few other attendants.

Find the original at "pawread.com".

The others claimed to be working but were actually just waiting to receive their reward money.

That afternoon, the mourning melody of the funeral procession echoed from the city gate to the mortuary.

The funeral procession probably had hundreds of people, all dressed in mourning clothes.

Sixteen strong men carried an expensive nanmu coffin, moving slowly forward.

Finally, the coffin arrived at the entrance of the mortuary.

The long-absent Steward Wu and Daoist Lin Jiu came out to welcome the funeral procession into the mortuary.

The coffin was placed in the main hall.

The brass and percussion band of the mortuary was already prepared.

Liu Yiqu, full of pride, raised his chin at Bai Yu and then began to play the suona.

Indeed, Liu Yiqu's suona skills were quite proficient.

Each note of the suona, filled with sorrow, firmly controlled the rhythm.

Immoral Wu nodded repeatedly, feeling greatly pleased.

The suona was played well, which would satisfy Master Zhang, and the reward money would naturally be plentiful.

Even Daoist Lin Jiu couldn't help but secretly praise Liu Yiqu's superb skills.

Bai Yu stood to the side, looking into the coffin.

At this moment, the coffin lid was already open, allowing friends and family to pay their final respects.

The coffin would only be nailed shut when it was time for the burial on the mountain.

The young master of the Zhang family was very handsome, full of vigor.

However, his pale face had eyes wide open, unwilling to close.

Indeed, Zhu Tong was right; the young master of the Zhang family had not closed his eyes even in death.

At this time, Master Zhang and his family entered the mortuary.

Master Zhang, with a wealthy figure, wore black silk and cried tears of sorrow.

His wife's voice was hoarse from crying.

In the mortuary, the brass and percussion band played even more vigorously.

Especially Liu Yiqu, who swayed his head, playing with great focus.

The melodious suona almost covered the entire mortuary, its sound reaching ten miles.

Master Zhang's family moved slowly, their hearts growing heavier, and their cries grew louder.

Just then, the suona suddenly stopped.

Liu Yiqu began to cough violently and then collapsed weakly.

Everyone was stunned, and the scene fell silent.

Immediately, there was an uproar!

The guests and stewards of the funeral were all shocked.

"What happened? The suona stopped!"

"This is nonsense! What is Hundred Virtues Mortuary doing?"

"What is Steward Wu doing, not even able to arrange a brass and percussion band?"

"Fuck, these bastards at the mortuary are courting death!"

Everyone at the mortuary was at a loss.

Steward Wu and Daoist Lin Jiu's expressions changed drastically.

At this critical moment of the funeral, Liu Yiqu had made a mistake.

Immoral Wu's face turned pale.

"It's over, it's over, Master Zhang is going to be furious."

He hurriedly looked towards Master Zhang.

Sure enough, Master Zhang's face was so dark it could drip water.

Master Zhang's wife cried out loud:

"My son, why is your fate so bitter, practicing martial arts so well, and suddenly dying."

"And now, even after death, you can't rest in peace. These damned people are even disrupting the funeral."

Hearing this, Master Zhang was even more furious and said:

"Dare to disrupt my son's funeral, throw out the suona player, and beat him to death."

Immediately, several fierce family servants dragged Liu Yiqu out, and screams were heard from outside.

Immoral Wu hurriedly stepped forward and said:

"Master Zhang, let us explain, this is a—"

Master Zhang raised his hand and slapped him.

With a "slap," Immoral Wu's left cheek immediately swelled up.

Seeing his nephew being beaten, Steward Wu not only didn't dare to be angry but stepped forward and added another slap.

With another "slap," Immoral Wu's right cheek also swelled like a pig's head.

"Wow," he spat out a mouthful of blood, with two white teeth in it.

Steward Wu didn't dare to stop, kicking and hitting Immoral Wu.

He had to discipline him on behalf of Master Zhang, or it wouldn't be so simple when the Zhang family took action.

Master Zhang glared angrily, his cold gaze sweeping over everyone.

"My son's funeral, you pull this stunt, go explain to the county magistrate."

"Everyone at Hundred Virtues Mortuary is negligent, can't even handle a funeral, none of you will have a job."

The Zhang family was a major patron of the mortuary. If Master Zhang mentioned it to the county magistrate, everyone at the mortuary would be out of a job.

Seeing the situation heading in the worst direction.

Bai Yu, standing aside, felt a stir in his heart.

If this continued, it would implicate him.

That was unacceptable, especially since he still wanted to earn the five taels of silver.

Liu Yiqu and Immoral Wu had already suffered greatly, which was like paying some interest first, and the remaining debt could be settled later.

With this thought, he picked up the suona.

A gentle suona melody covered the clamor of the crowd.

The sound of the suona was heart-wrenching.

It was like a cuckoo crying blood, filled with deep sorrow.

The mournful suona sound suppressed the guests' anger, evoking their inner sadness.

The drummers and gong players in the crowd, as if granted amnesty, quickly followed the suona's rhythm and continued the funeral music.

The sorrowful funeral music continued to echo throughout the venue.

Steward Wu patted his chest, almost scared to death.

Fortunately, someone saved the day.

Daoist Lin Jiu gave Bai Yu an approving look.

In the funeral procession, Master Zhang's anger had not subsided, but it was not appropriate to act out now.

He snorted heavily:

"After my son's funeral is over, we'll settle the score with you."

In the crowd, Bai Yu remained calm, playing the suona steadily.

A panel appeared before his eyes.

[Funeral Target: Zhang Mingfei.]

[Identity: Young Master of the Zhang Family.]

[Age: 16.]

[Cultivation: Stage Three Martial Artist.]

[Funeral Participation: 5%.]

[Reward: Qi and Blood +25, Life Experience +151.]

[Optional Rewards: Wandering Dragon Palm, Flying Cloud Thirteen Swords, Sky Walking Step...]

As expected of a scion of a noble family, the list of cultivation techniques was long and impressive.

However, the optional rewards section was still empty.

Only when the funeral participation reached 50% could he choose a reward.

Through the Record of World Burials, Bai Yu could view Zhang Mingfei's life.

He was born with a silver spoon, showered with love.

As a child, he studied literature, showing great intelligence, quickly mastering it, and his teacher praised him, saying it was no problem for him to become a scholar.

As he grew older, he became obsessed with martial arts, progressing rapidly, mastering each technique he learned.

In just two years, he advanced to a Stage Three Martial Artist.

His life was smooth sailing, almost like the protagonist of a story.

Dressed in fine clothes, riding spirited horses, amidst blazing flowers.

He even had the wild idea of forcibly merging several cultivation techniques to break through to Stage Three.

However, the techniques conflicted with each other, and he ultimately went mad, his heart meridian severed, and died.

"I'm not willing, I'm not willing."

"Why did I, Zhang Mingfei, with such exceptional talent, die like this?"

"I want to ride across the martial world and make a name for myself, I want to become the martial arts overlord, I want to conquer the beauties of the martial world!"

Through the Record of World Burials, Bai Yu could feel Zhang Mingfei's intense unwillingness.

After finishing one piece, Bai Yu changed the tune to a dirge.

"In whose land is the reed field, gathering souls regardless of virtue or foolishness."

"Why does the ghost lord urge so, human life cannot linger."

"Don't you see, how many romantic figures have become the soil beneath Mount Beiwang."

Bai Yu had been performing funerals in Peach Blossom Village for twenty years, accustomed to the cycles of the seasons, birth, aging, sickness, and death.

Recalling the history of his past life, even the most glorious scenes would eventually turn to dust.

Through the ages, it was nothing but a sigh.

He infused this insight into the dirge.

The sound of the suona carried a sense of solitude and melancholy, along with a calmness that saw through the passage of time.

Listening to it, everyone felt their spirits lifted.

Many mundane worries that had been weighing on their hearts seemed to be cast aside at this moment.

What were heroes and beauties, what was the picturesque landscape, compared to brewing a pot of tea under the peach tree?

Even many of the funeral guests felt their grief lighten considerably.

As the piece ended, the resentment in the chest of the person in the coffin dissipated, and he slowly closed his eyes.