A Funeral Song Stuns the Audience

The spot for the suona player went to Liu Yiqu.

The Hundred Virtues Funeral Home began to bustle with activity.

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

The rest claimed to be working, but in reality, they were just there to make up the numbers and wait for their share of the reward money.

That afternoon, the mournful tune of a funeral procession echoed from the city gate all the way to the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home.

The funeral procession must have had several hundred people.

Everyone was dressed in mourning attire, and sixteen strong men carried an expensive coffin made of Phoebe nanmu, moving slowly forward.

Finally, the coffin arrived at the entrance of the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home.

Manager Wu and Daoist Lin Jiu, who hadn't been seen for a while, greeted them and led the funeral procession into the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home.

The coffin was placed in the main hall.

The funeral band of the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home was already prepared.

Liu Yiqu triumphantly raised his chin at Bai Yu and began to play the suona.

Sure enough, Liu Yiqu's suona skills were indeed very proficient.

Each note of the suona carried a sorrowful tone, firmly controlling the rhythm.

Wu the Unvirtuous nodded repeatedly, feeling extremely pleased.

If the suona was played well and Patriarch Zhang was satisfied, the reward money would naturally be generous.

Even Daoist Lin Jiu couldn't help but secretly praise Liu Yiqu's skillful technique.

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

At this moment, the coffin lid had been opened to allow relatives and friends to pay their final respects.

The coffin nails would only be hammered in when it was time to go up the mountain for burial.

The Zhang family's young master was indeed very handsome and full of vigor.

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

Sure enough, Zhu Tong was right, the Zhang family's young master hadn't closed his eyes even in death.

At this moment, Patriarch Zhang and his family entered the gates of the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home.

Patriarch Zhang was portly and dressed in black silk, crying with tears streaming down his face.

His wife's voice was hoarse from crying.

In the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home, the members of the funeral band played even more energetically.

Especially Liu Yiqu, who shook his head and swayed his body, playing with great concentration.

The melodious suona almost filled the entire Hundred Virtues Funeral Home, its sound carrying for miles.

Patriarch Zhang's family moved forward slowly, feeling even more grief in their hearts, their cries growing louder.

Just then, the sound of the suona suddenly stopped.

Liu Yiqu coughed violently and then collapsed weakly.

Everyone was stunned by this, and the scene was silent.

Immediately afterward, the crowd erupted in an uproar!

The guests and managers of the funeral were all shocked.

"What's going on? The suona stopped!"

"Isn't this nonsense? What is the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home doing?"

"Manager Wu, what's going on? Can't you even arrange a funeral band properly?"

Everyone at the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home was at a loss.

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

At the crucial moment of the funeral, Liu Yiqu had actually messed up.

Wu the Unvirtuous's face was even more pale.

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

He hurriedly looked towards Patriarch Zhang.

Sure enough, Patriarch Zhang's face was so gloomy that it seemed like water could drip from it.

Patriarch Zhang's wife cried even louder:

"Why is my son so unlucky? He was practicing martial arts so well, and suddenly he died, not even allowed to rest in peace after death."

"These damned people, they even want to make trouble at the funeral."

Patriarch Zhang was even more enraged and said to the steward behind him:

"Dare to disrupt my son's funeral, does the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home not want to continue operating?"

Daoist Lin Jiu reacted and hurriedly went up to meet him, saying:

"Patriarch Zhang, please listen to our explanation, this is an acci—"

Patriarch Zhang cut him off directly:

"This happened at my son's funeral? Go explain it to the Prefect."

"Everyone at the Hundred Virtues Funeral Home has been derelict in their duties, unable to even handle a funeral properly. They should all be replaced."

It looked as if things were developing in the worst possible direction.

Just then, a melodious suona sound drowned out the crowd's clamor.

It was Bai Yu taking action to salvage the situation.

The suona's sound tugged at the heartstrings.

Like a cuckoo crying blood, it was sorrowful to the bone.

The mournful suona sound suppressed the guests' anger and stirred up the sadness in their hearts.

The drummers and gong players in the field were greatly relieved and hurriedly followed the rhythm of the suona, continuing the funeral music.

The sorrowful funeral music continued to resonate throughout the venue.

Manager Wu patted his chest, nearly scared to death.

Fortunately, someone had saved the day.

Daoist Lin Jiu gave Bai Yu an appreciative look.

In the funeral procession, Patriarch Zhang's anger had not subsided, but he couldn't lash out at this time.

He snorted coldly:

"I'll settle accounts with you after my son's funeral is over."

In the field, Bai Yu's expression remained unchanged as he played the suona at a steady pace.

A panel appeared before his eyes.

[Funeral Target: Zhang Mingfei.]

[Identity: Young Master of the Zhang Family.]

[Age: 16.]

[Cultivation: Martial Dao Third Grade.]

[Funeral Participation: 5%.]

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

[Optional Rewards: Swimming Dragon Palm, Flying Cloud Thirteen Swords, Soaring Step...]

As expected of a scion of a prominent family, there was a long list of cultivation techniques, and they all looked extraordinary.

However, the optional rewards section was still grayed out.

Rewards could only be selected when the funeral participation reached 50%.

Through the Burial World Record, Bai Yu could view Zhang Yiming's life.

He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was showered with love.

As a child, he studied literature and was quick-witted, quickly mastering the basics. His teacher praised that passing the imperial exam to become a scholar would be a cinch.

When he grew older, he became obsessed with martial arts, advancing bravely and diligently, mastering every technique he learned.

In just a few years, he steadily progressed to become a Third Grade martial artist.

His life could be described as smooth sailing, practically a protagonist's template.

Dressed in fine clothes, riding a spirited horse, amidst the splendor of prosperity.

He even thought about forcibly merging several cultivation techniques to break through to the Fourth Grade.

However, the techniques conflicted with each other, and he eventually suffered a qi deviation, resulting in the severing of his heart meridian and his death.

"I'm not reconciled, I'm not reconciled!"

"I, Zhang Mingfei, am exceptionally talented, why would I die like this?"

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

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

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

"Whose land is this in Hao Li, gathering souls, wise and foolish alike?"

"How urgently does the Ghost Earl urge, not allowing people to hesitate even a little."

"Do you not see, the heroes of a thousand ages have all vanished, all turned into soil beneath Mount Beimang."

Bai Yu had been performing funerals in Peach Blossom Village for twenty years, accustomed to the changing seasons, birth, old age, sickness, and death.

Recalling the history of his previous life, even the most splendid and prosperous times inevitably turned into a handful of yellow earth.

Throughout the ages, everything amounts to nothing more than a sigh.

He infused this experience into his lament.

The sound of the suona carried a sense of loneliness and wistfulness, a tranquility that saw through the years.

The crowd listening couldn't help but feel their minds drift.

Many mundane matters that had troubled them in the past seemed to vanish in that instant.

What heroes and beauties, what picturesque landscapes, could compare to brewing a pot of tea under a peach tree?

Even many of the funeral guests felt their sorrow lessen considerably.

As the song ended, the stagnant air in the coffin dissipated completely, and the deceased slowly closed his eyes.