Chapter 111: Stirring Shadows

Madam Zhang passed away, and after giving a few final instructions, she was gone.

Chen Jin had not expected that his brief visit to check on matters and perhaps catch some breeze would lead to him donning mourning attire so soon.

By now, the Zhang family courtyard was covered in white cloth, filled with continuous sounds of mourning. The entire town had come to pay their respects—or perhaps to partake in the funeral feast.

A diverse crowd gathered at the Zhang residence, only to disperse like clouds in the wind.

Chen Jin’s earlier strange behavior was completely overshadowed by Madam Zhang’s funeral. No one was discussing Chen Jin anymore; the greatest concern was still the funeral itself.

At this time, Chen Jin was confined to a small house within the Zhang estate. After hearing about his disturbance in the tavern, the Zhang family believed he had lost his mind further and locked him away to prevent him from causing a scene during the funeral.

Chen Jin did not resist. He chose to rest there for a while, gather information, and leave when the time was right. He also sensed something amiss about the Zhang family and wished to observe quietly.

Though confined, Chen Jin was well-fed and cared for. The spiritual energy in Sichuan’s land was abundant, especially at the foot of Mount Emei, where even the air felt sweet with vitality.

He meditated for two days and was only called out on the third day to pay his respects.

It was an interesting custom—waiting until the third day for the descendants to honor the deceased.

“Young master, let us help you change your clothes,” two maidservants said as they entered.

“Mm,” Chen Jin nodded.

The mourning garments were plain and simple; changing or not made little difference to him.

The two maids were not surprised by Chen Jin’s compliance. He had been quiet these days, showing no strange or wild behavior—no shouting, no violence. He ate calmly and sat meditating on his bed.

His previously foolish expression had vanished, replaced by a youthful, refined air. His demeanor was peaceful, like a graceful young gentleman.

“Such a pity,” the two maids sighed.

Though his madness had abated, Chen Jin had become obsessed with role-playing, believing himself the reincarnated disciple of Ge Hong. He spent his days dabbling in so-called immortal arts, meditating and cultivating like a Taoist priest.

To them, Chen Jin was still mad—just having stepped from one form of madness into another.

Chen Jin was well aware of their judgments but chose not to respond. After all, it was trivial gossip.

With the maids’ help, he put on the hemp mourning robe and followed them out of the room.

Upon leaving, Chen Jin activated his spiritual eye to survey the entire house. He had roamed at night as well, but discovered nothing unusual aside from some sordid affairs in various rooms—no supernatural oddities.

“When will grandmother be buried?” Chen Jin asked the maids.

“After the seventh day,” one replied.

Most understood the “seventh day” as the seventh day after death.

Whether burial on the seventh day was too soon, Chen Jin could not say, unfamiliar with local customs and unwilling to question.

At the first hall upon entering the Zhang courtyard, Madam Zhang’s coffin lay in state.

Though three days had passed, mourners still formed long lines.

Madam Zhang was the most respected elder in Liyuan Town, so the large turnout was expected.

As Chen Jin stepped into the hall, whispers rippled through the crowd.

“Zhang Junbao has arrived…”

“He looks so different…”

“Is he really the reincarnated disciple of the immortal Ge Hong…”

And so on.

These whispered rumors came from outsiders. The Zhang family themselves feigned sorrow, paying no heed to Chen Jin.

Still, since Zhang Junbao’s mother was present, Chen Jin was assigned a place—kneeling behind a group of Zhang family members.

The Zhang family was large and prosperous, having developed in Liyuan Town for over a century. Naturally, they had many members—a thriving lineage.

At the hall, at least thirty people knelt beside the coffin, not counting distant relatives. Counting all, the number may have approached a hundred.

Madam Zhang’s passing marked the true succession of the Zhang family to the next generation—Zhang Junbao’s father’s generation.

Once she was laid to rest, the family would surely begin discussing the division of the estate.

Although the family had divided assets once before, at the death of Zhang Junbao’s grandfather, a second division was inevitable. Control over the estate might be reshuffled.

These matters, however, concerned Chen Jin little. He could not take any of the property, mostly real estate. He could hardly seize the assets, sell them, and make a run for it.

Kneeling on the ground, Chen Jin truly knelt—taking the place of the foolish Zhang Junbao.

While kneeling, he observed the entire mourning hall with his spiritual eye.

Still, he saw no sign of Madam Zhang’s soul; it seemed she had already passed into the underworld.

Nowadays, ghosts were rare. The underworld’s pull was so strong that unless a soul was corrupted by evil, it was drawn underground naturally, without the need for the grim guardians.

As his gaze swept the room once more, Chen Jin suddenly felt a tap on his arm.

He turned to see who it was.

It was Zhang Junbao’s cousin, a mischievous fifteen-year-old girl, sticking her tongue out at him.

In truth, Zhang Junbao’s true connections were only with his immediate family and Madam Zhang herself; other cousins looked down on him.

This cousin had never really interacted with Zhang Junbao before.

To joke in such a solemn setting was improper—even for a child of her age.

Chen Jin ignored her, continuing to kneel with his head bowed.

The girl, seeing no response, ceased her antics and left him be.

Chen Jin remained in the mourning hall until evening, only leaving at dinner.

They did not ask him to do anything else—just to accompany them in kneeling.

After observing Chen Jin for two days, seeing no signs of madness, they trusted he would not cause trouble and let him go.

After dinner, Chen Jin joined them again, kneeling before the coffin until past midnight, when they finally dismissed him.

Bang—

Just as Chen Jin and the others rose from the ground, the coffin suddenly emitted a sound.

…