Douluo: A Century-old Legend I Am the Second Uncle Chenxin

Chapter 1654 Lighting the Flame and Accepting Disciples

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……

Black coffins swayed on their shoulders, passing over sorrowful gazes, and were slowly carried toward the cremation platform at the westernmost end of the courtyard.

There, dozens of enormous pure copper cremation furnaces, each inscribed with a cremation array, stood silently and solemnly.

Finally, all the coffins were placed in their proper positions.

Only the final procedure remains—the lighting of the soul fire by direct blood relatives, especially children.

The scene was immediately pushed to its most extreme and indescribable level of sorrow.

Ji Cheng stood firm as a pine tree, reaching out to steadily support his granddaughter Liu Ruyi's trembling wrist.

The fourteen-year-old girl, her face streaked with grief and tears, forced herself to hold the ever-burning candle with her grandfather.

The moment the candle flame touched the ignition stone trough, a soft "poof" sound was heard, and the blue soul fire suddenly surged up!

In the blinding light, Liu Ruyi's body went limp, and she sobbed, only being held firmly by her grandfather.

Ji Chengjian's gaze, as cold as iron, was fixed on the all-consuming flames. A deep, painful groan escaped his throat: "Shuran... Father... is sending you off..."

Tears finally broke through his forced composure and streamed down his sharply defined face.

He held his granddaughter's hand, his grip firm as a rock, his silent support speaking volumes.

Yan Xiaolai bit his lip tightly, the taste of blood filling his mouth. He suddenly thrust the tinder in his hand, his action so decisive it was almost an act of venting. But the moment the flame lit up, he abruptly turned around, his shoulders convulsing uncontrollably.

Jian Xinyue was supported by her uncle Jian Hezhi. Her face was pale and her eyes were empty, as if her soul had been scattered.

The flames danced on the wooden candle in her hand, making her face appear bloodless.

Jian Hezhi felt his niece's arm suddenly lose its strength and sink, so he immediately used his strength to support her swaying body.

The candle flame in her hand almost slipped from her grasp, but Jian Hezhi reacted quickly, half holding her cold hand and half stabilizing the flickering flame, and steadily guided the candle flame into the ignition stone trough at the center of the magic circle.

"puff!"

The tiny explosion seemed to awaken her numb nerves; Jian Xinyue managed to squeeze out a faint breath before her body went completely limp.

Jian Hezhi's eyes were bloodshot, his grip firm as he held his niece tightly while forcing himself to focus, uttering in a low, urging voice, "Go...go..."

Beside the crematorium's magic circle, similar tragedies unfolded before each coffin.

The choked sobs of parents burying their children, the lamentations of middle-aged widows, the helpless cries of young children losing their parents... all intertwine to create a heartbreaking background soundscape.

Strands of bluish-green soul fire were ignited in the ignition stone trough by trembling, tear-stained hands.

"boom--!"

Azure soul flames simultaneously shot into the sky from within dozens of magic arrays, twisting and roaring wildly as they leaped several meters high.

A scorching heatwave rolled out, carrying with it the dry smell of ashes, and the air was baked until it was distorted and blurred.

Countless tearful eyes stared intently at the raging flames, watching their loved ones' remains turn into a blinding white light in the blazing inferno, ultimately returning to ashes.

This final burning of the soul fire is the most poignant ritual, the most thorough farewell, and also the most straightforward and cruel way of passing on the "spirit"!
The unfinished life and unfulfilled aspirations of the deceased are heavily entrusted to the shoulders of the living.

The soul fire gradually weakened and eventually went out.

Above the high-temperature magic circle, only ashes and white bones remain.

Once the heat subsided, the servants of the Chen family, who were in charge of funerals, stepped forward wearing specially made leather suits.

Using special tools, they carefully removed the last remains from the cooled ashes and placed them with extreme gentleness into a black crystal bone china urn (cremation box).

Each warm urn was respectfully taken out and then carefully wrapped in moon-white silk by the most respected elder in each family.

Then, the urn was handed to the closest relatives.

Pairs of hands tightly embraced, pressing this still-warm haven against their cold hearts.

This will be a temporary resting place for the souls of heroes.

Once an auspicious day is chosen, they will be buried separately in the ancestral cemetery behind the Chen family's residence, or returned to their respective family cemeteries.

……

The setting sun shone through the eaves, casting long, pale golden shadows in the corridor of the side courtyard of the mansion. The air still carried the scent of incense and ashes typical of funerals, but the atmosphere here was slightly different.

Beside the pillars, Feng Qisheng leaned against the mottled red lacquer, his pipe unlit, slowly twirling between his fingers unconsciously.

His gaze fell on his daughter, who was a few steps away.

Feng Min did not look at her father.

Her gaze passed over the half-rolled bamboo curtain and landed on the edge of the crowd that had not yet dispersed in the central courtyard square.

In that spot, Yan Xiaolai, a boy who was not yet a teenager, was standing all alone.

He was thin and frail, and wrapped in a large, plain white mourning robe, he looked even more forlorn. Yet he held his back straight as if he were a slender bamboo that refused to bend in the cold wind.

Clearly, he wanted to be alone.

"Have you really decided?"

Feng Qisheng's deep voice, tinged with the smoke from his throat, was clearly audible in the quiet air of the corridor.

Feng Min withdrew her gaze and turned to her father.

She didn't shy away, her eyes calm yet resolute: "Yes."

One word, heavy as a pebble dropped into water, “Master… died protecting me. He only had one son, Xiao Lai.”

She paused for a moment, seemingly considering her words, "In the Yan family, everyone will take good care of him, and they won't miss the fact that I'm a senior sister, but in the academy... it's different."

Her gaze returned to the lone figure in the distance, and her voice lowered: "At Chang'an Academy, I can take care of him a little."

Feng Qisheng listened in silence, his rough fingers rubbing back and forth on the cool, smooth pipe a few times.

The daughter gave up her long-standing passion and expertise in scouting and sentry duty, choosing instead to become a peaceful counselor at the academy—in order to be closer to Yan Xiaolai and protect his growth on behalf of her deceased mentor.

"We've already submitted the application to Dean Zhuo," Feng Min added.

Feng Qisheng finally nodded, and the pipe in his hand finally stopped spinning. "That's fine."

As a scout, he was constantly on the edge of a knife, and he was lucky to escape death this time. What about next time?

Compared to the precariousness of that job, being a counselor in the college is indeed much more stable.

Deep down, he had longed for this "stability" for his daughter for a long time.

Feng Qisheng felt quite relieved that his daughter was willing to give up her beloved path in order to repay her teacher's kindness.

She is loyal and righteous, and has a strong character, just like him.

Moreover… Feng Qisheng glanced at his daughter’s calm yet undeniably spirited profile out of the corner of his eye, and a thought he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud surfaced in his mind—his daughter was almost thirty, it was time for her to settle down and find a home.

This stable new job may just be an opportunity given by God.

In the distance, Yan Xiaolai's thin and straight back remained motionless, like a stubborn wedge driven into the twilight filled with farewell and sorrow.

……

"Don't worry about it."

Feng Qisheng gazed calmly at Yan Xiaolai in the distance.

"The compensation given by the master family for the sacrifice of the Yan family this time is quite substantial."

"He even has martial arts skills passed down to him, as well as a soul bone, which is enough to support him to reach great heights."

He paused, then added, "Moreover, just now, Fifth Master personally promised Elder Yan that he would take Xiao Lai as his disciple."

Feng Min's eyes, which had been somewhat silent, suddenly fixed on her father: "Fifth Master really said that?"

Chen Zhang, at the age of 48, reached the level 82 Soul Douluo realm and is a pillar of his family's direct lineage.

His name itself represents an unattainable promise.

"Hmm." Feng Qisheng nodded. "Fifth Master is in his prime and has great potential. He is very likely to become a titled prince in the future."

“With his protection, guidance and teaching, Xiao Lai’s future is promising.”

(End of this chapter)