Jinjiang’s memorial hall was situated in the outskirts of the city. Once they entered North Liang, it was only a short distance away. Then again, the hall represented a dark moment in Jing Rong’s life. He wanted to cry whenever he thought of how the woman in his arms had initially made him spend a night alone in that place.
Ji Yunshu looked up worriedly at the still heavily raining grey skies. “The rain will only get heavier from here. If there’s a flood or mudslide, the consequences would be unthinkable. We should hurry onward to the memorial hall.”
Jing Rong considered their options. The guards were still unsuccessfully trying to release the carriage stuck in the mud. The muddy yellow rainwater brought with it a considerable amount of twigs and other debris, indicating a high possibility of flooding!
Jing Rong gazed at the woman in his arms. Her left sleeve had already been soaked by the torrential rain while her feet were entirely submerged under the muddy pools of rainwater.
Jing Rong issued a series of commands. “Leave a few people behind to continue pushing the carriage. This prince will head towards the memorial hall while the rest of you follow.”
“Yes!” Lang Po replied before he conveyed the orders to a few guards. Just as they were about to board the second carriage, Ji Yunshu suddenly remembered something. “Wait a minute there’s a painting on that carriage that I want to retrieve.”
“You stay here; I’ll get it.” Jing Rong raised his umbrella and retrieved the securely-rolled painting from the stuck carriage before handing it to her and getting onto their carriage.
Once they stepped into the second carriage, their noses were assaulted by the thick miasma of wine fumes. Mo Ruo was sprawled in the carriage like a dead body, a mess of empty wine pots scattered about him.
Seriously! How much wine did this rascal squirrel away? Jing Rong shoved him to one side with his nose scrunched up in disdain.
Ji Yunshu hugged the dampened painting protectively as she dabbed at it with a mostly-dry sleeve. Wei Yi watched her with wide eyes. “Shu’er, what’s that?”
“A portrait!”
“Whose portrait is it?”
“A dead person’s.”
Wei Yi’s brows knitted together briefly, but his expression remained placid. His gaze remained staring unblinkingly at her as water dripped down from the loose strands of hair onto his long lashes and handsome face. He lifted his sleeve to wipe off the water when he found that it started interfering with his vision. Jing Rong also craned out his neck curiously for a look. “Who’s drawn in this portrait?” The vinegar jar has been overturned again!
She replied lightly, “Remember how I told you about that strange set of bones in the Lin Capital case?”
“I remember.”
“I’ve been reconstructing the portrait of those bones and they’re almost ready.”
“Mm.” He nodded nonchalantly.
At this point, Tang Si, who had been spectating, also got into the carriage with a half-eaten biscuit. She sat unceremoniously beside Mo Ruo, rolling her eyes at him and scoffed. “What a drunkard. He only had a few pots of wine with me and is already dead to the world, yet he dares to brag about being able to drink a thousand cups of wine.”
She gave his leg a kick before turning to face the others. “Right, where did you guys say we were heading? What’s a memorial hall? Is it the same as the inns of your Central Plains?”
“Mm.” Ji Yunshu nodded.
“That’s great! We can finally have a good rest after we’ve travelled so far.”
“It’s not a place for living people to rest.”
Eh? She wrinkled her brows in confusion. “Not for living people? Then it’s for dead people?”
Ji Yunshu smiled without replying. The atmosphere in the whole carriage took on an arctic chill.
Tang Si’s face contorted as she seemed to realise something. Her appetite completely gone, she looked at the half-eaten biscuit in her hands before throwing it out the window.
Their carriage quickly went around the other that was firmly stuck in the mud and entered Beiliang, finally heading towards the memorial hall.
The two red lanterns hanging by the front doors swayed in the wind, giving the memorial hall an eerie glow in the pouring rain. One of them was nearly turned to mush by the storm.
Lang Po dismounted his horse and knocked on the doors of the memorial hall with Wei Yi. Maybe the rain was too loud and Fu Bo’s ears did not hear well, but the pair of battered doors slowly opened only after they knocked for a good while.
Holding a yellowed, broken oil-paper umbrella, Fu Bo opened one side of the doors and stuck out half his body. His watery eyes landed on the two men outside.
“You are…?”
Lang Po had just opened his mouth when…
“Fu Bo!” Ji Yunshu’s voice emerged from the carriage. She opened an umbrella as she got off, approaching while holding up the bottom of her drenched robes.
Fu Bo was shocked when he saw her. “Teacher Ji?”
He immediately opened the other half of the doors, asking curiously, “Teacher Ji, didn’t you go to the capital?”
Ji Yunshu smiled warmly, “I’m passing by on my way to settle some matters.”
“Ah, so that’s why. Well, it’s good that you’re back. It’s been much quieter here in the few months you’ve been away.”
This… what is this supposed to mean?! Ji Yunshu quirked the corner of her lips.
Jing Rong and the others also got off the carriage. Mo Ruo had already woken up once they arrived, but got off the carriage groggily with half-open eyes. If not for Tang Si supporting him, he probably would have already fallen to the ground.
Fu Bo looked at the crowd of people. Realising that they were all drenched, he exclaimed, “Why did you travel in such heavy rain? Come, quickly get indoors! The rain outside is too heavy!” He ushered everyone indoors.
But when Wei Yi walked through the doors and passed Fu Bo, the latter did a double take. That pair of weak, rheumy eyes widened for a second and the oil-paper umbrella in his hand shook.
Ji Yunshu saw this whole series of events but didn’t take it to heart.
The group hurried in, squeezing through the doors into the courtyard while leaving behind a mess of muddy footprints. The open doors also let in the howling wind, as well as the smell of rain and dampness.
The incense and paper money were caught up in the blast of wind, whirling across the courtyard; meanwhile, white smoke from the candles and incense spiralled upwards. The whole memorial hall gave off an eerie atmosphere.
Fu Bo led the group into the main hall. Inside, the smell of incense and herbs was thick in the air. Coffins neatly lined the left wall, with more corpses laid out directly on the floorboards, covered with a white cloth.
Tang Si’s eyes almost popped out of her head when she entered. With one hand still pulling on Mo Ruo’s sleeve, she crept to Ji Yunshu’s side. “Ah Ji, what on earth is this place?”
She replied placidly, “Didn’t I already say that this was a place for dead people to rest?”
This…this really is a resting place for dead people.” Although she was bold and fearless, she had never stayed with dead people in such a manner before. So, the fearless one could only try to seek refuge by Ji Yunshu’s side.