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墨書 Inktalez
Living Funeral
Who sent the invitation? The first person that came to mind was Zhang Xun, since there were relatives and friends here. Otherwise, who would send an invitation to Zhang Xun for no reason?
Gao Ling asked, "Is someone inviting you to a wedding?"
But something felt off! An invitation was sent, yet Zhang Xun didn’t go down to get it. Gao Ling wanted to go down, but Zhang Xun stopped her.
But how did Zhang Xun know it was an invitation?
Thinking about it this way really created some contradictions. If I wanted to know the answer, I could only go down and see if it was indeed an invitation.
However, if it was an invitation, then why didn’t Zhang Xun go down to get it?
Going in circles like this made my head spin. After a moment, there was still no movement downstairs.
The person delivering the invitation had some issues; if they were going to deliver it, they might as well say something instead of leaving in silence. It was truly bizarre.
At that moment, I asked Zhang Xun, "Can we go down now?"
Since there was no more noise below, I felt compelled to ask.
Zhang Xun replied, "Yes."
Gao Ling was eager to know the outcome. As soon as Zhang Xun finished speaking, she dashed downstairs. When she reached the bottom, Gao Ling shouted, "It really is an invitation! Fei, come down and take a look!"
I nodded and glanced at Zhang Xun. "How do you know it's an Invitation?"
Zhang Xun replied, "Because I walked out from here."
His statement was somewhat puzzling. I asked him, "Is this house yours?"
Zhang Xun looked at me and said, "It's not mine. How could I have a key?"
I was momentarily at a loss for words. Indeed, if it wasn't Zhang Xun's house, how could he possibly have a key? I felt conflicted for a moment. Rather than getting tangled up in this, it would be better to go downstairs and take a look. So, I headed down.
Gao Ling was examining the Invitation and then said to me, "This is the first time I've seen such an Invitation."
I walked over and saw that Gao Ling was holding a black Invitation. It was indeed my first time seeing someone use a black Invitation for an invitation.
I opened it and glanced inside. It simply stated that the homeowner and the people inside were invited to gather at the ancestral hall at noon.
The person sending the Invitation didn't reveal themselves, nor did they specify the names of the invitees. Was this some kind of custom? Or perhaps they didn't even know who the owner of the house was? To put it dramatically, they might not even know if there was an owner in this house.
This could be considered a rough style of invitation. However, given the circumstances, it seemed like a reasonable explanation. Gao Ling asked, "Where is the ancestral hall?"
Zhang Xun stepped outside without even looking at the Invitation.
At that moment, it was already past nine in the morning. I asked Zhang Xun if he was going. He replied that he was.
Gao Ling added, "I also want to see what strange customs are here."
Zhang Xun said nothing, but as he stepped outside, he noticed that there was no one on Coffin Street. Perhaps it was too early; everyone was still asleep.
Gao Ling asked, "Brother, is there anywhere to eat around here?"
The weather was not great, overcast and looking like it might rain. Zhang Xun glanced at Gao Ling and replied, "There’s no place to eat here, but if you're hungry, there’s food in the kitchen."
"Really?" Gao Ling asked incredulously.
Zhang Xun replied, "You can go check for yourself." After hearing this, Gao Ling ran toward the kitchen. At that moment, I was still holding the Spirit Tablet in my hand, which had the name Chen Fei inscribed on it.
Holding this item made me feel uneasy. I turned to Zhang Xun and asked, "Can I throw this away?"
Zhang Xun said, "Don't throw it away; just burn it. Throwing it away means losing your lifespan, while burning it means burning away your spiritual years."
I didn’t quite understand what Zhang Xun meant at that moment. Although I couldn’t comprehend it fully, there must have been some truth to it; mainly because I had no confidence in my own understanding.
Not knowing anything, I could only trust those who did.
I walked out onto the street and found some flammable materials from inside the house to burn the Spirit Tablet. During this time, a few old men passed by and glanced at me and Zhang Xun before ultimately walking around us.
Perhaps they thought it was unlucky that I was burning the Spirit Tablet.
I understood that sentiment; however, these old men looked quite aged themselves and were likely long-time residents of this area. They passed by our house without any issue.
This should clarify that this house belonged to Zhang Xun; otherwise, how could people who had lived on Coffin Street for decades not know whose house it was?
If Zhang Xun were a stranger, the neighbors would definitely call the police upon seeing him enter a familiar house.
So I was even more convinced that this house belonged to Zhang Xun.
However, Zhang Xun didn't greet those men at all; he acted completely like a stranger.
After I finished burning the Spirit Tablet, Zhang Xun took out several talismans and burned them, muttering some words I couldn't understand.
It was definitely not Mandarin; it was likely Zhang Xun's hometown dialect.
At that moment, Gao Ling ran out and said there was indeed food in the kitchen. "Come in and eat something!"
Zhang Xun and I turned around and went in to eat. After we finished, Gao Ling, curious, wanted to see what this Invitation was all about.
Zhang Xun had agreed to go earlier, so there wasn't much else to say.
As I left, I closed the door behind me. The house had everything one could need—food, drink, and facilities. Most importantly, it was still Zhang Xun's house.
I couldn't believe that Zhang Xun had so much time to tidy up this place. A house that had been mostly unoccupied would surely accumulate dust.
Yet this house was spotless. I wondered if someone else had been cleaning it besides Zhang Xun.
Moreover, I suspected that someone might be cleaning it regularly.
Thinking of this made me suddenly feel a chill run down my spine.
I followed Zhang Xun as we walked toward the ancestral hall. The atmosphere grew increasingly gloomy, and a glance at the sky revealed clouds that seemed ready to collapse under their own weight at any moment.
We continued on our way.
Gao Ling suddenly remarked, "Why are there only old men and old women here? Not a single young person in sight."
Hearing Gao Ling's comment, I looked around as well. The path leading into the ancestral hall was filled with elderly men and women, all of them gray-haired.
After a moment of thought, I concluded that the young people must have gone out to work and earn money. In this day and age, how many young people would choose to stay at home?
"That's very likely," Gao Ling replied after I finished speaking.
However, Zhang Xun remained silent throughout, simply continuing to walk ahead. The elderly men and women around us also said nothing. If it weren't for the fact that they walked with their heels touching the ground, I might have thought they were all just walking corpses.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, we finally arrived at the ancestral hall.
The exterior of the hall on Coffin Street looked quite old, constructed from wood, with much of the red paint peeling away.
The colorful banners hanging above had faded, some even tattered beyond recognition. A gust of wind would send them fluttering about.
Overall, it gave off an impression of being "aged and decrepit."
We entered the ancestral hall, where long benches lined both sides. Once inside, everyone found a place to sit down.
The three of us, including Zhang Xun, took our seats in the front row.
It looked like a meeting was about to start! I began to survey the ancestral hall, and strangely enough, the central position was occupied not by a deity but by a black coffin.
The coffin appeared heavy, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. Ancestral halls are typically associated with the development of clans, and rural ancestral halls usually enshrine deities that bless their villages with prosperity and favorable weather, such as Guanyin or the Wealth God.
But here, they actually enshrined a coffin. Could it be because this place is Coffin Street, hence the coffin?
If that were the case, it would be quite fitting—Coffin Street honoring a coffin.
Moreover, the people here were silent, which made the atmosphere feel incredibly oppressive. Zhang Xun was also staring intently; I sensed something had changed in him.
Gao Ling, unaware of the situation, asked, "What exactly are we doing here?"
Since everyone else was silent, Gao Ling's voice stood out sharply, causing all eyes to turn toward her.
Gao Ling wore an awkward expression, and Zhang Xun warned her that whoever spoke first in this place would encounter misfortune.
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