"From my father, all the way down to . Every one of us could act willfully, could make trouble, could voice our pain. Because the old man was still alive; no matter what happened, there was always soone behind us to catch us when we fell."
"My cultivation has already caught up to him. My uncle, my fourth uncle, my elder brother, my father—their cultivation all surpassed his. Yet for the entire Zhong Xuan Family, it was always him, standing there to shield us from the wind and rain."
"Because his concern for the family was greater than anyone else’s. So it was always he who silently bore everything."
Jiang Wang rembered, back then at the East Street intersection. That white‑haired old man streaked across the sky, descending in fury onto the street, scolding Jiang ngxiong in public and loudly questioning the Emperor Qi. That scene was indeed unforgettable. A mory for a lifeti.
Zhongxuan Sheng’s voice was very calm: "He always sat in this place, so we sohow ca to feel that him sitting here was only natural, perfectly ordinary. Like this chair, like this courtyard, like this sunlight."
"Until he was gone."
"Until he was gone, those fragnts we took for granted all beca sothing out of the ordinary."
"Look at the clouds in the sky—have they always been this leisurely?"
Zhongxuan Sheng closed his eyes, as if a little drowsy, and murmured, "Turns out, they weren’t."
Jiang Wang listened to all this in silence.
He knew that soone as intelligent as Zhongxuan Sheng did not need any advice, only soone trustworthy to whom he could pour out his heart.
Rushing from Xia Territory Old Mountain to Linzi, to the Marquis of Bowang’s Mansion, and having to look after Chu Yao on the way, he was indeed travel‑worn. But the aning of his coming was not as the Marquis Wu’an of Daqi, a strong cultivator of the God Descending Realm, but simply—as a friend.
The best friend of Zhongxuan Sheng’s life.
He did not say anything, just sat down beside Zhongxuan Sheng.
And in this way he sat with him for an entire afternoon, and then an entire night.
...
...
By the eighth month, autumn was already deep.
When yellow leaves break and fall, they ever make one aware of partings in this world.
By the old lord’s dying command, all funeral matters were to be kept simple, so the funeral rites were not held on a grand scale.
There were no ten‑li mourning drapes of white, not even a flowing banquet was set.
Only a mourning hall was set up in the Marquis of Bowang’s Mansion, where the body would lie in state for three days for all to pay their respects. After three days, the coffin would be borne by the heir‑grandson of the Marquis of Bowang back to the Zhongxuan Clan land in Qiuyang County for burial.
Only after that would co the investiture ceremony in which Zhongxuan Sheng would inherit the title.
Though this bereavent was simple in form, the rank of the rites was by no ans low.
First, the Marquis of Ding Yuan, Zhongxuan Chuliang, personally stood guard at the outer courtyard to serve as greeter. The various lords of the Political Affairs Hall and the Military Affairs Hall, all who were in court, ca to the mourning hall to offer sacrifices. Those not in Qi Territory also had wreaths and elegiac couplets sent.
The War God Jiang ngxiong, the State Minister Jiang Rumo, and the forr minister Yan Ping all ca in person.
Next, through deliberation in court, the Purple Micro Middle Heaven Emperor Flag hanging before the Purple Pole Hall was lowered to half‑staff, and the Great Qi Empire sent off the State Marquis with the rites of the state.
Lastly, on the day of the formal rites, the Great Qi Emperor himself attended and lit a stick of incense for the old Marquis.
Zhongxuan Yunbo had already used his entire life to interpret his loyalty, his courage, his sense of responsibility.
The path he was to walk, the duties he was to fulfill, were all completed.
He had settled all affairs behind him, and won a na known under Heaven.
For a person’s life, what would it an to say there were no regrets?
Jiang Wang was still very young; he did not know the answer.
In the mourning hall, Zhongxuan Sheng, dressed in mourning clothes, knelt in the primary seat on the left.
The Marquis Champion, Zhongxuan Zun, knelt opposite him.
The two brothers paid respectful rites to every person who ca to offer sacrifices, thanking them for seeing their grandfather off.
It was hard to imagine that the entire funeral was managed by Shisi. Even though everything was kept simple, for a woman who could go several days without saying a single word, it was still too great a challenge.
In matters of receiving and sending off guests such as these, Uncle Ming Guang had always taken it upon himself, unwilling to let anyone steal his thunder.
But this ti there was no way.
His cultivation was poor to begin with, and now his mind was unfocused. Sohow, in transporting Path Origin he made a grave mistake, and even nearly caused one of his Inner Mansion palaces to collapse. Fortunately, he happened to be resting in the Marquis Champion’s Mansion at the ti, and Zhongxuan Zun discovered it in ti and helped suppress it.
Even so, he had already been lying in bed for several days.
Jiang Wang had seen him while keeping vigil over the spirit last night, and almost failed to recognize him. The man was haggard beyond recognition, kneeling there without saying a word, only shedding tears without cease.
In the end it was Zhongxuan Zun who forcibly knocked him out and sent him back to rest.
Jiang Wang helped inside and out, but in truth there was not much that needed him to do. It was mostly helping in the inner courtyard to receive the guests coming to pay their respects.
As for Zhongxuan Sheng’s fourth uncle, Zhongxuan Minghe, he did not return to Linzi, and only offered remote sacrifices on Eternal Winter Island.
"Qingyang!"
With this affectionate form of address, it was the Shuofang Marquis’s heir, Bao Zhongqing, stepping into the inner courtyard hand in hand with a dignified young woman.
From so people, such a form of address felt close; from others, it only made one feel cloyed.
Bao Zhongqing was clearly the latter.
But Jiang Wang showed none of this, rely gesturing the way: "For the offering, please proceed inside."
At this mont Bao Zhongqing’s expression was quite solemn. Yet the ease and self‑assurance between his brows still showed that he had been living very pleasantly of late. The young woman beside him should be the wife he had married a few months ago, Miao Yuzhi, daughter of the Prefectural Governor of Cangshu County. She too was poised and gracious; she saluted Jiang Wang, addressing him as ’Marquis Wu’an’.
The Bao family and many of Song Yao’s disciples had already begun to cooperate in many fields, and in every direction things were developing well.
Bao Zhongqing patted Jiang Wang’s arm and said, "My condolences."
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