Yang Qing and the other two performed funeral rites for Ouyang Lin for three days.
Though the rites were somewhat crude and an awkward mishmash, Yang Qing had included every ritual he could think of for Ouyang Lin.
Bu Er and Mu Feng built a platform in the backyard and laid Ouyang Lin's body upon it.
Flames surged skyward, swiftly swallowing Ouyang Lin's form.
Life was one great dream. A single fire burned the past clean away.
In the years to come, Ouyang Lin's voice, face, and smile might exist only in their memories, until the dust of time buried them and not a trace remained.
That day, every resident of Xiangyang City who lived near their little courtyard could clearly see the flames rising into the sky with thick smoke, lingering for a long time.
The flickering blaze resembled a hideous giant beast, looking down upon the city from midair.
The fire burned for a full four hours before finally dying out.
Afterward, Yang Qing gathered Ouyang Lin's ashes into a small porcelain urn, intending to take them out to sea and scatter them someday.
By then, Yang Qing and the others had spent three days and three nights tending to Ouyang Lin's funeral arrangements. Meanwhile, the gravely injured Jiang Zhizhou had lain in bed for three full days.
Three days later, with Ouyang Lin's funeral affairs settled, Jiang Zhizhou slowly regained consciousness.
He still could not move at all.
That man seemed to have left no wounds on his body, yet had damaged him at his very core.
Fortunately, Jiang Zhizhou's will to live was strong. Though he should have remained unconscious for a long time, he forced himself awake on the fourth day.
After waking, he still could not move, but much of his mental clarity had