What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

Uncle looked puzzled: "A copper coin sword? It's probably in your grandfather's room. He treasures all the things you played with when you were little. Why are you looking for this?"

I said calmly, "It's nothing. I just suddenly remembered to ask. This sword was made for me by my grandfather when I was little. Now that I see him, I suddenly remembered it."

Uncle lit a cigarette, leaned against the coffin, and took a couple of puffs. "I see. Then Uncle will help you look for it tomorrow."

I waved my hand: "It's alright, Uncle. Let's talk about it after the funeral. It's nothing important. I see you haven't rested all day and you're exhausted. I'll keep watch for the first half of the night. You go and get some rest."

Uncle didn't refuse and nodded, "Okay, I'm relieved to have Yangzi looking after me. I'll go and rest for a while."

"Um."

The funeral hall was unusually quiet afterwards, with only the occasional crackling sound of the eternal lamp wick burning.

Around 2 a.m., my second uncle, still half asleep and wearing a coat, came to relieve me.

I went back into my room, took the rattle drum out of my pocket, and examined it carefully for a while.

It still looks the same as when I was a child, except that the drumhead is a bit yellow and the paint on the body is a bit chipped.

This rattle drum was made by my grandfather. I loved listening to its sound when I was still learning to speak. My grandfather said that I would laugh whenever I heard the drum back then.

However, I have very little impression of this thing, except that my grandfather also loved to play with this rattle drum.

After studying it carefully for a while, I still couldn't find anything unusual about this rattle drum, and I don't know how it became the talisman that my grandfather mentioned in his letter.

Perhaps we'll need to collect all the copper coin swords to find new clues.

I shook my head and didn't put the rattle drum in my suitcase, but instead kept it close to my body.

Then he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

As dawn broke, the Chen family's old house began to bustle with activity.

After I got up, I didn't find my second uncle in front of the mourning hall. My cousin Chen Gang was kneeling in front of the brazier burning paper money.

I went up and greeted him. My cousin squinted and smiled at me, clearly looking like he hadn't woken up yet.

I went over and checked the wound on his hand. Some parts had already scabbed over and were healing very well.

After taking over my cousin's job, I told him to go wash up and help my second uncle out.

According to the local custom, today is the main day, and a banquet must be held to entertain relatives and friends from the surrounding villages.

Ten minutes later, I walked out of the main room and saw that a large shed had been set up in the courtyard, with several large pots on the fire.

My second uncle was so busy he was working non-stop. When he saw me come out, he just nodded to me as a greeting, and then went back to preparing for the big banquet.

Soon after, the banquet began, with the smells of cooking oil, tobacco, and cheap liquor all mixed together.

The suona band played their instruments with deafening force, managing to create a festive atmosphere despite the funeral music.

At seven o'clock in the morning, I dressed in mourning clothes, knelt before the coffin, and kowtowed to the guests in return.

At 8:10, the auspicious time for the funeral procession.

The suona horn blared loudly, and eight strong and sturdy immortals, having drunk a farewell toast and with red cloth wrapped around their waists, carried in a thick dragon-shaped pole.

The leader of the Eight Immortals was a dark-faced man who carried a heavy axe and seven half-foot-long coffin nails.

According to custom, the coffin must be sealed before the funeral procession begins, symbolizing the final judgment.

But the words the scarred man spoke still echoed in my ears.

The fact that Grandpa allowed him to deliver this letter proves that this person is a friend, not an enemy.

Therefore, the coffin must not be sealed shut.

While everyone was preparing, I found the leader of the Eight Immortals, the one with the dark face.

I pulled him aside to an empty space, gave him two packs of cigarettes, then opened a new pack, took one out, and lit it for him.

The dark-faced man squinted, his face showing doubt, but he still let me light his cigarette for him.

After exhaling a puff of smoke, he asked, "Young Master, is something the matter?"

I lit a cigarette and smiled as I said, "It's nothing serious, I just hope that when you're putting the last nail in the coffin later, you'll hold back a little bit of force."

Upon hearing this, the dark-faced man hesitated and said, "This...this is against the rules! Nailing the coffin shut without sealing it completely will lead to a major disaster!"

I pulled a thick red envelope from my sleeve and quietly slipped it into his hand, speaking earnestly, "Grandpa appeared to me in a dream last night, saying that he felt stifled in his life and didn't want to be nailed inside when he passed away; he wanted to leave a crack for him to breathe. As his grandson, I can't disobey my father's last wish."

The dark-faced man squeezed the red envelope in his hand; it was surprisingly thick, containing at least two or three thousand yuan.

He hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, "Fine, since the boss has spoken, I'll do whatever he says!"

"Thanks, bro." Seeing that he accepted the red envelope, I patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Before long, the old Duan Gong's aged voice rang out.

"Filial sons and virtuous grandsons kneel! May the coffin be sealed for good fortune!"

I knelt on the ground and saw that the last coffin nail driven in by the dark-faced man was indeed left with nearly a quarter of it sticking out, not completely nailed in.

"Rise—the Spirit—!"

With a long shout, the heavy cypress coffin was slowly lifted.

The mountain path from the Chen family compound to the ancestral graves on the back hill was calm and peaceful.

The funeral procession, accompanied by the sound of suona horns, passed through the village, crossed the stream, and finally came to a steady stop beside the grave that Grandpa had chosen long ago.

It went surprisingly smoothly.

As soon as I entered the ancestral graveyard, I felt a chill creep over me, accompanied by a faint sense of being watched.

I turned my head and looked around, but found nothing unusual.

"The auspicious time has arrived! Burial!"

The leader of the Eight Immortals, a dark-faced man, shouted, pulling me back to reality.

The Eight Immortals shouted in unison as they slowly lowered the thick hemp rope in their hands.

The heavy cypress coffin sank slowly into the tomb amidst the creaking of ropes.

My second uncle, cousin, and I knelt together by the grave. My second uncle grabbed the first handful of yellow soil and sprinkled it on the coffin lid.

Then it was my cousin, and finally me.

The moment the yellow earth was sprinkled down, the faint, chilly feeling that had been enveloping me dissipated considerably.

Gradually, the burial mound took shape.

And that chilling feeling completely dissipated, even the feeling of being watched disappeared!

There's definitely something wrong with this ancestral grave!

Just then, my second uncle, who was filling in the soil, suddenly let out a soft "Eh," and his manual movements slowed down considerably.

Although the sound was very soft, it was very clear.

I've had a keen ear since I was a child, and I've never missed anything.

I decided to suppress my doubts for the time being and remain silent.

Paper money flew everywhere, and the crying gradually subsided.

According to custom, after the burial, relatives must walk around the grave three times and then leave without looking back.

I walked at the back, listening to the wind rustling the spirit banners behind me, staring at my second uncle walking ahead, my eyes filled with a strange expression.