The rooster stood atop the wall and crowed; fish belly white spread across the horizon.
Old Monk Huixian once again sat solemnly in the Spirit Hall, chanting scriptures to deliver souls and pray for blessings. Little Stone was full of energy too. He had just eaten breakfast at the Wang household and was stuffed full. To eat his fill for two days in a row was a rare blessing.
Old Landlord Wang learned that his youngest daughter-in-law was carrying a posthumous child, and joy washed away much of his grief.
Zhang Wan no longer needed to kneel in the Spirit Hall. A padded stool was brought over, and the cook attended to her at her side. The old landlord considered burying his youngest son as soon as possible. His body had soaked in water for too many days and could not stay in the house any longer. The grave pit had already been dug, and now that there was a child, he could enter the ancestral burial ground. The sun had yet to rise, so they might as well seize the chance and bury him quickly.
No sooner said than done. The old man directed the household laborers and tenant farmers to lift the coffin and conduct the funeral procession.
To keep Zhang Wan from being overstimulated and falling into excessive grief, Bai Yujun secretly put her to sleep again. They could simply tell everyone she had fainted, which would also make her seem like a virtuous, devoted widow.
Hui Xian and Little Stone had to go along as well. The villagers needed the two of them to bolster their courage; no one inspired greater confidence than Hui Xian's image as an eminent monk.
Bai Yujun stayed in the sitting room outside Zhang Wan's quarters, carefully wrapping strips of cloth