Funeral Arrangements Require Funeral Gift Money

"Second Brother."

A skinny little boy ran over from the crowd and threw his arms around Zhong Lin's leg, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I knew Second Brother couldn't be dead, sob sob. They all said you were dead, Second Brother, and that they were going to hold a funeral for you and eat at the feast."

Zhong Lin lowered his head and patted Zhong Shi, whose head was big and body tiny, looking every bit like a little radish. He dumped all the game he carried onto the ground in one heap and said with a smile, "How could Second Brother be dead? See, I'm back, and I even caught lots of game. I'll roast meat for you later."

He raised his head and swept his gaze over the villagers in the courtyard. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by an icy chill.

A funeral? A feast?

More like they had come to feast on an heirless household.

The original owner's parents had long since died, leaving behind only his younger brother, Zhong Shi. The moment something happened to the original owner, these people had come sniffing after the scent of blood like hyenas. Did they not know that if the original owner had truly died, the stored grain in the house would have been the only thing keeping Zhong Shi alive?

Under Zhong Lin's gaze, everyone revealed awkward expressions, their eyes darting away as they instinctively hid the bowls and chopsticks in their hands behind their backs.

"Um... Da Linzi, we meant well too. Everyone thought you were dead, so... so we came to arrange your funeral. We only wanted to give you a proper send-off."

The speaker was Lin San, an elder of the original owner's uncle's generation. He could be said to have watched the original owner grow up.

"Yeah! Yeah! We meant well too, well intentions!"

With someone taking the lead, the other villagers began defending themselves as well.

After all, the law could not punish everyone. Besides, we didn't know you weren't dead. It was just a misunderstanding.

"A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. Da Linzi, it's naturally best that you returned alive. Lin Lao San, hurry and take down the White Banner at the entrance. Everyone else, if you have nothing else to do, hurry home. Don't disturb the reunion of the Da Linzi brothers."

Grandpa Liu Er, the village elder with the highest seniority, spoke up, settling the matter with one decisive word.

Lin Lao San hurriedly nodded. "Ah! I'll go right away."

Zhong Lin shifted his feet and directly blocked the courtyard gate, cutting off Lin Lao San's path as well.

"Da Linzi, what are you doing?"

The cold smile vanished from Zhong Lin's face, replaced with a warm expression. "So it was a misunderstanding! But the banner's already been hung, and the meal's already been eaten. Shouldn't you pay the Funeral Gift Money?"

"Funeral Gift Money" was the money given as a gift at a funeral.

Since they had come to attend his funeral, they naturally had to pay Funeral Gift Money.

The smile on Lin Lao San's face froze. Even Grandpa Liu Er, who had just spoken, drew in a sharp breath and stared at Zhong Lin in disbelief.

The old Zhong Lin had not been like this. He was honest and simple-minded. Even if he suffered a loss, he would never say anything. How could he be like this now, actually asking everyone for Funeral Gift Money?

You weren't even dead. What Funeral Gift Money were you asking for?

"Move aside. What are you standing there for? You're blocking my way."

A drunken voice came from the main hall. Then, a large, burly man with a face full of flesh pushed aside several villagers standing in front of him.

Even these shameless villagers hurriedly stepped aside for this man, their faces filled with both awe and disgust.

"Well, Da Linzi's back. The Mountain God truly blessed you. I thought you'd died in Black Mountain. It's good you're not dead. If you really had died, I'd have one less playmate."

Memories left behind by the original owner instantly surfaced in Zhong Lin's mind. This man was Zhang Kun, the son of Zhang Er Ye in the village. His seniority was high enough that he could have been the grandfather of some of the children, yet he never did anything an elder should do.

Relying on his large build and strength, it would be an exaggeration to say he tyrannized the village—there was not that much flesh for him to devour—but he often beat people when drunk, kicked down widows' doors, and assaulted the disabled.

The villagers of Summer River Village dared to be angry but did not dare speak out. After all, they truly could not beat him. Moreover, he was a reckless brute who went for the kill whenever he fought. Breaking arms or legs was normal. In this era of undeveloped medicine, a broken limb could very well mean lifelong disability.

Zhang Kun staggered drunkenly up to Zhong Lin. Standing a full head taller, he lowered his head to look down at Zhong Lin, then opened his mouth in a yawn, the thick stench of alcohol rushing straight into Zhong Lin's face.

"It's good you're not dead. A good dog doesn't block the road. I'm going home to sleep," Zhang Kun cursed.

As he spoke, he reached out to shove Zhong Lin aside, but he could not move him at all.

Zhong Lin raised his head and met Zhang Kun's eyes. "Funeral Gift Money."

Anger appeared on Zhang Kun's face. His already flushed face from the alcohol turned even redder at Zhong Lin's refusal to give him face, and his fist shot straight toward Zhong Lin's face.

"Fuck, I gave you face—"

Zhong Lin grabbed the Firewood Chopping Knife at his waist. Without the slightest hesitation, he swung it straight at Zhang Kun's neck.

The instant the Firewood Chopping Knife appeared, Zhang Kun reacted as well and instinctively tried to dodge. But he had just thrown a punch, and he was drunk. How could his body react in time? He could only barely twist his body enough to keep his neck from being severed, but the Firewood Chopping Knife still sliced from his left shoulder blade down to his chest.

Scht!

"Ah!"

A miserable scream rang out as crimson blood instantly gushed forth. Zhang Kun collapsed to the ground.

The villagers in the courtyard cried out in alarm as well. Some of the more timid ones backed away again and again, staring at Zhong Lin with fear in their eyes.

They truly had not expected Zhong Lin to actually make a move. And that Firewood Chopping Knife had been aimed to take a life. Had Zhang Kun not dodged at the last moment, half his neck could have been chopped off.

Zhong Lin expressionlessly stepped forward, crouched down, and patted Zhang Kun's face with the Firewood Chopping Knife. "Funeral Gift Money."

The fierce feared the reckless, and the reckless feared those who did not value their lives. Zhang Kun, who had always bullied others, finally lost his nerve before Zhong Lin's strike. His face was full of fear.

"D... Da Linzi, don't... don't be impulsive. We're from the same village. We even grew up together. Don't kill me, don't kill me."

Zhang Kun trembled all over, and the smell of urine wafted from beneath his crotch.

"I don't want to say it a third time."

Zhong Lin's voice was low.

"Yes, yes, I'll pay."

Enduring the pain, Zhang Kun pulled out a money pouch from his clothes. He wanted to take out a few copper coins, but Zhong Lin snatched the entire pouch away.

"Get lost!"

Zhang Kun opened his mouth, but in the end, he did not dare ask for it back. He could only clutch his wound as he climbed to his feet, then quickly left.

Zhong Lin swept his gaze over the others in the courtyard. Everywhere his gaze passed, their expressions turned to fear and terror.

"Funeral Gift Money."

Zhong Lin spoke those two words again, but now they seemed to carry some kind of magic that left them unable to refuse. After all, the pool of blood on the ground was still so glaring.

Some left two coins, some left one. More or less, everyone left behind a few copper coins. It hurt their hearts, but it was still better than taking a chop from the blade.

After the last person left, more than eighty copper coins had appeared on the table.

"Pah, what a bunch of things that bully the weak and fear the strong."

Zhong Lin spat out a curse, his face full of disdain.