Later, Chu Qingjiu held a funeral for the old man. The old man had actually left him quite a lot of money. Before he passed, he had even told him to find an auspicious spot and just bury him there. There was no need for a funeral; he should save the money and buy him more wine instead.
But he was stubborn. He thought about how the old man had lived his whole life in obscurity. Even he had never known the old man's name. Sometimes he called him Master, sometimes a shameless old bastard, sometimes a damn old geezer, but he simply didn't know his name.
In the end, even the gravestone bore only the words "Puppet Master Chu."
He arranged a grand funeral for the old man. After drifting through half his life, the old man was sent off in style. He also invited many of the patrons the old man had worked for.
"Little Puppet Master Chu."
Hearing someone call him that made him inexplicably uncomfortable.
The old man was irreplaceable. Even he couldn't take his place, so after taking over, he adopted a different title-the Puppeteer.
At first, he had wanted to use the word for a wooden-puppet master, but it always brought to mind the old man's smiling, cheeky face. In the end, he chose the more general word for "puppet" instead of "wooden puppet," becoming the short-lived Puppeteer.
That title stayed with him even after he died and entered an instance.
Seems I've let my thoughts wander a little too far.
Leaning against the Throne, Chu Qingjiu opened his eyes, then closed them again.
The funeral had nearly exhausted all the savings the old man had set aside for him, but he had no regrets. People only lived once, after all. They deserved a