TGCFNM -Chapter 103 Definitely Not a Good Person

A night full of danger.

When Qinglong woke up, he was still dazed. It wasn’t until the wound on his abdomen tore open again that he let out a low gasp, gritting his teeth to endure the pain.

“Master said the wound is too deep; it needs stitching,” Xiao Hua said, helping him lie back down. “Master went to get some sheep intestines. He said we’ll try making a thread out of it to sew you up.”

“Try…?” Qinglong thought he’d misheard.

Xiao Hua nodded. “Master said your skin’s thick and you won’t die, so it’s fine to use you as a test. Afterwards, the coroner Su will sew you up.”

“The coroner… sew me?” Qinglong suddenly sat up sharply, but the pain in his abdomen twisted his face painfully.

Xiao Hua placed her hands on her waist. “Of course. Coroner Su sews corpses tightly and quickly—you’d better not be ungrateful.”

Qinglong didn’t know whether he was angrier or in more pain; sweat beaded on his forehead as he panted, unable to speak a word.

After wiping him down, Xiao Hua continued, “Master went to see Lord Mei. He said the flute has been handed over, so you can rest assured. He also asked me to tell you something.”

Qinglong, having seemingly resigned himself to the current situation, forced out, “What?”

“No one was caught, so you still owe me five thousand taels. After last night’s chaos and taking my divine medicine, all the miscellaneous costs add up to ten thousand. In total, fifteen thousand taels.” Xiao Hua imitated the way it was said, then looked at Qinglong’s pale face and added, “I already used your hand to press your blood seal for your handprint. Don’t even think about cheating.”

With that, Xiao Hua left the room carrying hot water.

Qinglong was so furious that his nostrils flared, and he glared stubbornly at the ceiling beam.

This greedy official really is not a good person!

Meanwhile, after Chu Ling handed over the flute, she walked back to the government office alone.

“Master Chu, out for a stroll?”

Chu Ling smiled. “Yes.”

“Would you like to follow my ox cart for a while?”

“No, no, walking’s fine,” Chu Ling declined with a smile, then went over to a roadside stall to pick up a few snacks.

At that moment, a distant sound of mournful music reached her ears. Holding the snacks, Chu Ling turned to look.

The stall owner tugged at her sleeve. “Master, it’s the Zhen family’s daughter—she passed away.”

“The Zhen family? Soon it’ll be the Ma family,” someone muttered.

“How is it becoming the Ma family?” Chu Ling asked curiously, tilting her head just in time to see Fu Qingyu.

Fu Qingyu cupped his hands and bowed. “Master.”

“Is there something you need, Lord Fu?” Chu Ling asked.

Fu Qingyu nodded, then turned to look at the funeral procession. “I came to pay my respects.”

Chu Ling handed over a packet of snacks, tilting her chin forward. “You know them? Then tell me—what’s this about the Zhen family and the Ma family?”

Fu Qingyu smiled and took it. “Master, the Zhen family is a prominent family in Changzhou city. They had only one daughter, married to Ma Yuansheng. But now their only daughter has died, so according to the law, the Zhen family’s estate should be inherited by Ma Yuansheng.”

Chu Ling frowned in distaste: wiped out the whole line?

“Master, master, let me tell it, let me tell it,” the storyteller in the teahouse squeezed forward, tapping his fan for emphasis, instantly commanding attention.

“This Zhen family was a prominent local household. Zhen’s father built his fortune from the tea trade and later married Liu, the daughter of a minor official. The couple was deeply harmonious and devoted to each other. They had only one daughter, Zhen Mingzhu, the apple of their eye. In the blink of an eye, eighteen years passed, and Miss Zhen had grown into a woman of stunning beauty and vast wealth, attracting matchmakers to the point of wearing out their soles.”

“Zhen’s father did not wish his offspring to continue in mercantile life, so he resolved to find a scholarly son-in-law through the imperial examinations—and he indeed found one, Ma Yuansheng. Born into poverty, Ma Yuansheng’s only wealth was his extraordinary knowledge. Through Zhen’s father’s relentless efforts, Ma Yuansheng married into the family and was financially supported in his studies.”

“Ma Yuansheng did not disappoint. He passed the imperial examination and became a jinshi. Yet just then, Zhen’s father suddenly passed away. Left with no choice, Ma Yuansheng observed the mourning period, and the following year, Zhen’s mother also passed away. Miss Zhen was deeply traumatized, even losing a baby boy. From that point on, Ma Yuansheng abandoned officialdom to care for his wife at home, taking up a teaching post at Cangzhu Academy.”

The storyteller sighed softly. “Everyone thought Ma Yuansheng was selfish, but no one realized he gave up a brilliant future just for his family.”

Fu Qingyu whispered, “Even before I came, I had heard people say that Scholar Ma was a kind man. Every day after school, he would go buy his wife’s favorite hibiscus pastries to bring home.”

Chu Ling exhaled, realizing she had misjudged him—it was truly a pity. “But Miss Zhen was ill?”

“No,” the storyteller replied, “It is said the consecutive deaths of her parents were too great a shock. Even with the finest medicine, her health deteriorated day by day.”

“No wonder Scholar Ma seemed to grow thinner by the day,” the shopkeeper sighed.

Cui Xi, standing nearby, had tears in her eyes. “Master, true love still exists in this world.”

At that moment, the funeral procession slowly approached. White paper money fluttered in the wind, the spirit banner was stiffened by the breeze, and mournful music carried from afar. A pure black coffin, adorned with white flowers, was carried by eight pallbearers, moving slowly forward.

People on the roadside quickly pulled their playing children behind them to avoid the procession.

A man dressed in white linen mourning clothes walked weakly ahead, holding the memorial tablet with a sorrowful expression. His cracked lips trembled, and tears streamed endlessly.

A woman in a red wedding dress, draped in a pearl-studded cloud shoulder cape and wearing a red gauze headdress, followed quietly beside him, occasionally glancing at him.

The contrast of white and red was visually striking, creating a strange and eerie effect.

Chu Ling drew in a sharp breath, touching the hairs standing on end along her arm. “Why are the funeral customs in Changzhou so strange?”

Fu Qingyu glanced over, puzzled. “Master, what’s strange about it?”

Chu Ling furrowed her brows, disbelief written all over her face. “Can’t you see? Isn’t that strange enough?”

The storyteller also asked, “Master, what’s strange?”

“Master, master, there’s trouble ahead!” the shopkeeper suddenly shouted, leaning forward to see.

Chu Ling shoved the snacks in her hand to Fu Qingyu and briskly hurried forward.

The old man who had just asked if he should ride in the ox cart had fallen to the ground. Two men carrying the spirit banner looked furious, raising their feet to kick him.

“What are you doing!” Chu Ling shouted, striding forward and helping the old man to his feet.

The two men at the front, eyes brimming with tears, clenched their jaws at the old man. “Do you know that blocking the spirit’s path severs Miss Zhen’s cycle of reincarnation?”

Chu Ling was taken aback. There was such a saying?

The old man immediately bent his back, clasped his hands, trembling, and cried pitifully, “Master, master, I didn’t do it on purpose. The ox suddenly bolted that way. I—I really couldn’t stop it.”

“Heh, there’s no red along this entire street. Why would the ox bolt?”

Chu Ling raised a hand. “That’s not necessarily true. Setting aside the matter of red, an ox doesn’t charge just because of the color; it charges if provoked.”

With that, Chu Ling turned her gaze toward the opposite side.