Actually, placing Ma Sansing on a pyre made of firewood, burning him to ashes, and carrying them back in a jar was not a very good choice. The best method would have been to choose a good spot here and bury him properly.
Unfortunately, Qian Ying and the Ma Family Martial Artists had mentioned this, only for everyone else to reject the suggestion and insist on bringing their elder's ashes back to the family for burial.
Qian Ying did not mind the Ma Family Martial Artists opposing his suggestion at all. In fact, he agreed with them. Though it was more troublesome, it would allow the deceased to return home rather than be buried in a foreign land.
With two annual memorial rites, it would also be more convenient for later generations to pay their respects.
What if it had been him? If he had died here and the Qian Family Martial Artists had simply buried him on the spot, how would he have felt? Fallen leaves returned to their roots. The dead deserved respect, and they should always return home.
Well, the idea had been good, but once the burning began, Qian Ying regretted it again.
The surroundings were pitch-black, so once the flames started burning, everyone gathered close around the pyre. As a result, a meaty aroma drifted into everyone's noses—the smell coming from Ma Sansing's body.
At once, everyone staring at the figure in the pyre felt awkward. Sprinkle on some pepper powder and chili powder, then add some cumin, and wouldn't this become a massive barbecue scene?
The moment Qian Ying smelled it, he understood. In the past, they had always handled such matters from a considerable distance, even pouring fire oil or other accelerants over the body to speed up the burning. But now, without