On the tenth day after Jiang Xianghe returned home, a piece of heartbreaking news came from the foot of Clear Dew Mountain.
That day, the sky was gray and overcast, with layers of clouds hanging low.
A man dressed in coarse short clothes, with a strip of plain white hemp cloth wrapped around his head, scrambled up to the summit of Clear Dew Mountain in panic.
Having received word, Jiang Fu'an came out of the house and immediately caught sight of the white cloth on the man's head. His heart gave a heavy thump.
In these parts, such attire meant only one thing: there had been a recent death in the family.
The moment the man saw him, his legs gave way. With a thud, he dropped to his knees before the stone steps at the courtyard gate. "Immortal Master Jiang, our Master Sun has passed away."
Master Sun—
Jiang Fu'an's pupils contracted slightly, and he hurriedly asked, "Brother Sun is gone? When exactly did it happen?"
The servant choked out between sobs, "Three days ago, in the afternoon. Master said he was feeling somewhat tired and wanted to lie down for a midday rest.
"Who would have thought that once he lay down, he never woke again—"
Hearing this, Jiang Fu'an felt a little relieved.
To pass away silently in one's sleep, without suffering the torment of illness, was indeed a rare good end.
Sun Xiuyuan was already nearing seventy. Though that was not an especially long life, he had still lived beyond the age where most mortals in this world came to a halt.
"The mourning hall—is it set up in the old residence in Peace Town?"
Jiang Fu'an asked again.
"Reporting to Immortal Master, it is indeed at the old residence."
Jiang Fu'an nodded, his tone softening