Black notes

On the drive there, two honored guests sat in the vehicle.

On the drive back, there were two jars of honored guests.

Although the funeral had been rather simple, even downright slapdash, the sky obliged them on their way back from the cremation by sending down rain, lending a little atmosphere to Jeff and Mr. Mossan's farewell to this world.

Kallen looked at the urns in front of him. Sure enough, those jars in the basement were not for pickling vegetables!

Freshly cremated ashes were hot.

So, when they were pressed for time, the family sometimes took jars from the basement to hold the ashes, then transferred them into urns bearing the company label once they got home.

Jeff's urn needed to go through one final procedure before being placed in the welfare section of the cemetery, while none of Mr. Mossan's children wanted to take responsibility for his urn.

A regular cemetery plot was expensive, even without a burial, so they preferred to pay the Immerlis Family extra to pull some strings and let their father piggyback on the welfare benefits.

So,

essentially,

Jeff had piggybacked on Mr. Mossan's funeral for a little lie-down.

And Mr. Mossan

would piggyback on Jeff's Welfare Form.

Barring any surprises, once their urns were delivered to the welfare cemetery together, they would occupy adjacent niches.

That was rather nice.

If they got lonely,

they could knock on the "wall" with their skulls.

Still thinking about the cost of urns Old Darcy had mentioned, Kallen curiously asked Uncle Mason, who was driving:

"Uncle, how much profit do we make on coffins?"

"For an ordinary coffin, the profit is roughly equal to the cost. For custom-made ones or specially designed models, it can be two or three times the cost.

"Some people who were respectable in life and worked in government choose something solemn and understated.

"Those with noble titles and substantial family wealth commission lavish aristocratic coffins according to their family traditions, with their family crests carved into them.

"The nouveau riche are much simpler. They like everything glittering and extravagant.

"Oh, we have a color catalog of coffins at home, with over two hundred models. You can look through it when we get back if you're interested.

"And the listed prices are generally five times our purchase costs. When we pitch them to customers, we offer a 'discount.'"

Several times the cost in profit...

Kallen did the calculations in his head.

That's not too bad. Nowhere near the urns at Hughes Crematorium. Those cost less than fifty and sell for a thousand. Twenty times the cost!

As it happened,

Uncle Mason had warmed to the subject too, and used the earlier incident as an example.

"Our profit margins might not be as outrageous as those on Hughes Crematorium's urns, but even with that markup, how much can they sell one urn for?

"Our most basic coffin costs ten thousand Lu Coins.

"Besides, we serve different customer groups. Here, the ones who end up being cremated are... well, low-end customers. But they make up most of their clientele.

"They can burn bodies there every day for a month, and we only need three regular jobs to make the same profit.

"Of course, someone like Mr. Mossan doesn't count as a regular customer."

"Have you thought about expanding, Uncle?" Kallen asked.

Mason shook his head. "My investments failed. I used leverage. Oh, do you know what leverage is?"

"Yes."

"Good, then. Anyway, I'm very sorry to tell you, my poor nephew, that your grandfather's money-the part you might inherit someday-has shrunk considerably thanks to your useless uncle."

He paused,

then added:

"Don't be angry with me."

According to Ruilan Country's traditions, the eldest son usually inherited the family business, while younger sons went out to make their own way.

So, by custom, Kallen, as the eldest grandson of the eldest son, should have been the Funeral Society's future decision-maker. Mason would, at most, receive some money or dividend-only shares, with no say in its management.

"I don't blame you, Uncle."

The previous "Kallen" had always held a favorable impression of this uncle.

After spending more than half a month with him, Kallen had also discovered that, although Mason liked slacking off, had a glib tongue, and was greedy for money, those faults were common enough in ordinary people.

More importantly, Mason had a sound attitude toward life, his family, and money.

He was actually the one most desperate to make money and get back on his feet. Once employed in financial investment in a big city, he could now only drive a hearse to transport clients. He clearly could not be content with that.

And when Kallen had asked whether the nearly twenty thousand Lu Coins in "consultation fees" should go into the company accounts, Mason had refused without hesitation. That showed he was not the sort to take money from his nephew.

The working family members entitled to dividends were just Mason, Aunt Mary, Grandfather, and Aunt Winnie. If those twenty thousand Lu Coins went into the company accounts, Mason and Aunt Mary could take half of it next month.

After all, there had been virtually no operating costs involved in earning that money... If Kallen had not given Old Darcy a thousand Lu Coins, the only expense would have been a little saliva.

"Oh, Kallen, next time we get a job, you should try handling the conversation with the client. We'll see how it goes. If it works out well, you can officially join the company as a family member and receive dividends."

"All right, Uncle."

Working for Immoreles...

No.

Working for Dis...

It's my honor.

"As for the expansion you mentioned, I don't think we need it right now. Even if we could get a bank loan, we couldn't compete with the chains in terms of scale.

"So I think we need to improve our service quality and find new sources of profit. Like what you're doing."

"Couldn't Grandfather do that job?" Kallen asked.

Grandfather was a priest.

Mason dismissed the idea. "Oh, who ever tells God the truth?"

Just then,

a wheel dipped into a puddle ahead, giving the vehicle a considerable jolt.

The vehicle was fine, but the two urns knocked together with a bang. Fortunately, neither was damaged.

Mason glanced back

and said:

"When I die, I don't plan to have a funeral at all. Never mind a coffin, I don't even want Mina and Lunt to get me an urn."

"Oh? You're that philosophical about it, Uncle?"

"Once you've seen enough of some things, they stop meaning much. As long as Mina and Lunt treat me well when I'm old, once I close my eyes for good, I won't complain even if they put my ashes in a black plastic bag from the fish market."

"Then what should they do with your ashes?" Kallen asked.

"That's easy. Find a big flowerpot, put me inside, add some soil, and plant whatever you like on top. You can leave it in the garden.

"When you're home, you can water me. When you're away, I can watch the house for you."

Just then,

Ron, who had dozed off again on the journey home like a roosting bird, woke from the jolt. Hearing their conversation, he asked curiously:

"Mr. Mason, young master Kallen, are you discussing something that grim?"

"What about you, Ron? What are your plans for your funeral?"

Mason held the steering wheel with one hand and lit a cigarette with the other as he casually asked.

"Heh, I'm definitely planning to spend my very last Lu Coin before I die."

"What about your family?" Kallen asked.

"After work tomorrow, I'm going to ask out that nurse from the nursing home. If she doesn't end up with me, I'll probably never have a family, much less children."

"Then what about your remains?"

"My remains?" Ron patted his belly. "That's easy. I heard Luojia Medical College accepts body donations from the public. They even respectfully call the donated bodies... some kind of teacher?"

"Silent teachers," Kallen said.

"Right, right! Young master Kallen really knows a lot. Heh, when I'm about to die, I'll sign an agreement to donate myself and become a silent teacher."

Mason flicked his cigarette ash and laughed. "Who would've thought, Ron? You've suddenly risen in my estimation."

"Well, um..." Ron scratched his head. "I was bad at school from childhood. I just couldn't learn anything from books, so I dropped out early and started working. But I know the people who get into Luojia Medical College are all excellent students.

"I just think, someday, a dumb poor student like me will lie there while all those brilliant students stand beside me, bow to me together, and call me their teacher. What a delightful, satisfying thing that would be."

"Hahahaha!" Mason burst out laughing.

Kallen could not help laughing too, but still reminded him, "Then you'll need to lose weight, Ron."

"Lose weight?" Ron sounded surprised. "Do silent teachers have to meet physical requirements?"

"No, but do you know what happens when they cut your belly open? Your fat will be piled up in there. Then those students will probably be fighting their nausea as they cut and turn over your fat, muttering curses:

"'Oh, God, why is my silent teacher such a fat bastard?'"

Ron immediately straightened his back. "It's that terrifying?"

Then,

Ron sank into deep contemplation about the fate of his remains.

Mason asked curiously, "Kallen, how do you know all this?"

"Aunt Mary told me. You know, sometimes she has to work on bodies that died horribly, so she occasionally can't help complaining at the dinner table."

Mason nodded in wholehearted agreement. "Yes, her temper has been getting worse."

Then,

Mason sighed,

flicked his cigarette ash again,

and said:

"It's all my fault."

It was already nine in the evening when they got home. After putting the urns in the basement, their work for the day was done.

Dinner had been saved for them: mashed potatoes, smoked meat, and vegetable salad.

Kallen washed his hands and came over. Honestly, he was a little disappointed by the meal, especially since he had gone out and returned late today, leaving him hungrier than usual. He had been hoping for something delicious and plentiful.

But...

I'd better cook it myself next time.

"Darling, I opened a can of herring for you."

At the words "can of herring," Uncle Mason immediately spread his arms, smiling, and exchanged several kisses with Aunt Mary right in front of Kallen.

"What a wonderful dinner. I love it, and I love you for preparing it, darling."

Two days earlier, Uncle Mason had told Aunt Mary in the vehicle that her homemade pie was one of only two foods he loved.

The other delicacy, the one he ate in the bathroom, was canned herring.

Kallen blinked. He suddenly had a bad feeling.

Pop!

Gas had built up inside the can, and it gave a muffled pop when opened.

Immediately,

the stench of rotting flesh spread through the room.

Kallen's stomach cramped, and the sensation rose straight into his throat. Fortunately, he managed to force it down.

Compared with this smell, stinky tofu was an adorable little bundle of fragrance with its own air freshener!

Uncle Mason forked up a piece and put it in his mouth, chewing with an expression of pure enjoyment.

Then,

without even asking Kallen,

he forked up another piece and placed it on Kallen's mashed potatoes.

"Eat up, Kallen. In this family, you and I have always been canned herring's most devoted fans. No, its believers!"

Holding his breath, Kallen looked at Mason. Mason forked up another piece and called out:

"Come on, bottoms up for our faith!"

With that,

he put it into his mouth again and chewed with immense enjoyment.

Kallen looked troubled.

But,

what could he do when the previous "Kallen" had actually liked this food?

Besides,

having loved stinky tofu in his previous life, Kallen vaguely suspected this might be the same: foul-smelling but delicious.

Summoning his courage,

Kallen forked it up

and put it in his mouth.

In an instant,

Wow...

Kallen's eyes widened.

He could not even swallow it. He grabbed a napkin and spat everything out, then immediately left the table for the Washroom and began vomiting.

At the table,

Mason, sitting, and Mary, standing, looked somewhat stunned.

"What's wrong with him?" Aunt Mary asked in confusion.

Uncle Mason guessed, "The vehicle was drafty on the way back, and it was raining. Maybe he's caught a cold?"

"Then I'll get him some medicine."

After throwing up,

Kallen panted helplessly.

Turning his head, he saw Puer standing in the Washroom doorway. The cat was staring at him, and judging by the curve of her mouth, Kallen had the distinct impression she was laughing at him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

Puer's expression stayed the same, and her tail swished.

Just then, Aunt Mary's voice came from outside. "Kallen, have you caught a chill? I brought you some medicine."

"Okay, Aunt Mary. I'll come out and take it in a minute."

"Then your late-night snack..."

No.

That damned late-night snack.

Kallen had no intention of going back to that dining table. Right now, he didn't even want to return to the second floor!

By now, the entire second floor was probably saturated with the smell of Herring Can.

"Lunt has plenty of snacks. I'll just have a little of those. My stomach's upset, so I probably shouldn't eat too much."

"Well... all right. Take care of yourself. If you still feel unwell tomorrow morning, I'll take you to the clinic."

"Thank you, Aunt Mary."

Aunt Mary turned and left.

Faintly,

Kallen heard her scolding his cousin Lunt:

"Lunt, so many of your teeth are already rotten, and you still dare to hide snacks! Since you don't want your teeth anymore, I'll tear your mouth apart right now!"

Inside the Washroom, Kallen felt sorry for his little cousin. Filled with guilt toward the boy, he then enjoyed a nice, comfortable bath.

After bathing, Kallen walked back to his bedroom, drying his hair with a towel.

On the bedroom desk sat milk, bread, a glass of water, and some pills.

Lunt was sitting on the floor, sorting through a box that had originally been under the spring bed. Hearing Kallen enter, he turned and looked at him pitifully.

"Mom confiscated all the candy and chocolate I hid."

There was no resentment on his cousin's face, nor any sign that he blamed Kallen. He just looked a little helpless.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have rationed them like that, only eating one every night. I should've eaten them all to my heart's content."

"Heh."

Kallen chuckled and took 1,000 Lu Coins from his pocket. He hesitated, feeling that giving a child too much money probably wasn't appropriate, then pulled out just three notes and offered them to Lunt.

"Buy yourself some candy. Come ask me for more when you run out."

Lunt didn't reach for them. Instead, he shook his head. "I can't spend your money."

"Isn't it only natural for a little brother to spend his big brother's money?"

"No. Mom said we have to take care of you because you don't have..." Lunt quickly changed tack. "Actually, I have my own allowance!"

Including Kallen, there were four children in the family.

In principle, all four received the same monthly allowance, and that expense came out of the shared household funds.

But because his younger cousins still had their parents, their allowances were held for safekeeping by his aunts, leaving very little that actually reached their hands.

Kallen, on the other hand, had neither a father nor a mother, so the adults felt awkward about "holding his allowance for safekeeping." He received the full amount every month, which was how he had managed to save up 6,000 Lu Coins.

"Brush your teeth properly every day, and don't eat too much candy. You'll be fine."

Kallen still placed the 300 Lu Coins on Lunt's bed. He also noticed quite a few books and notebooks scattered across it. Aunt Mary must have pulled them out during her earlier "search," since they had presumably been under the bed before.

One notebook had a white rose on its cover, though someone had deliberately colored it red with a red pen.

Kallen casually opened it.

There was a drawing on the first page, depicting three people: two adults and a child. Although the drawing was quite abstract, he could clearly tell that the father was on the left, the mother on the right, and the child in the middle.

The child in the middle was clearly a boy, since he hadn't been given long hair to mark him as female, unlike the mother on the right.

"You draw pretty well," Kallen told Lunt.

"That notebook isn't mine."

"It isn't yours?"

If it wasn't Lunt's, then in this room, it could only belong to... "Kallen."

Kallen thought for a moment, but couldn't recall this notebook.

That was normal, though. Judging by the paper, it had to be several years old.

Although he had inherited "Kallen's" memories, if Kallen himself had already forgotten something, he naturally couldn't remember it either.

"Lunt, brush your teeth and get ready for bed!"

His aunt's shout came from the stairway.

Thankfully, the Immerlis Family lived in a detached house. If they lived in an apartment, his aunt's booming voice would surely earn them complaints from the neighbors.

"Coming, Mom!"

Lunt ran out of the room.

Kallen sat down on Lunt's spring bed and continued leafing through the notebook.

The drawing on the second page was much like the first: a married couple with a child between them.

The third page was the same.

Kallen was starting to lose interest, but when he turned to the fourth page, he frowned slightly.

The entire drawing on the fourth page had been colored black, leaving only a blank circle in the middle.

From a professional perspective, specifically in the analysis of children's drawings,

this picture suggested that the child who had created it felt an extreme lack of security.

Black, in fact, could also serve as a protective color.

This kind of composition conveyed something like a child being frightened after dark, wrapping himself tightly in a blanket but leaving a gap to peek out through or breathe fresh air.

Of course, the feeling conveyed by this drawing was more severe than that.

Kallen kept turning the pages. The next several drawings were similar, except that the blank circle shifted position, sometimes appearing at the bottom, sometimes at the top, or off to the left or right.

When he turned another page,

Kallen's hand froze.

Because in this drawing,

a man and a woman had been drawn horizontally. Judging by the style of the earlier pictures, they should be "Dad" and "Mom."

Drawing them horizontally indicated that they were lying down.

One person in the picture had been drawn vertically, so he was standing.

In the drawing, masses of black extended from the abdomens of "Dad" and "Mom" as they "lay" there, and pools beside both of them had also been shaded in black.

Kallen couldn't help swallowing.

Were these wounds... and blood spilling onto the ground?

As for the person standing,

he was an adult figure who hadn't appeared before, and he was holding something in his hand.

Kallen brought the notebook closer to his eyes and examined the object carefully. With children's drawings, he often had to rely on impressions and guesswork.

"Is he holding a sword? But isn't that sword a little too short?"

Suddenly,

Kallen recalled the day he had returned from the hospital, when he had helped his grandfather clean the charred skin from his arm and seen, inside the black case... that sword hilt!

"Dis!"

"Yes."