Chapter 97: A Grand Funeral in the Village

Inside the mourning hall, Matchmaker Liu was yanked up by Zhao Feng…

Xie Bingran knelt in her mourning clothes, her body still trembling.

Xu Chen crouched beside her, placed a hand on her shoulder, and quietly said:

“It’s okay…”

At that moment, twenty or thirty of Bing Ge’s brothers stormed in, filling the courtyard with a rumble.

The women’s director at the gate jumped back and pressed herself against the wall in fright.

The group marched into the main room, their voices low as they called out, “Bing Ge! Chen Ge!”

Aunt Liu, still held by Zhao Feng, had never seen such a scene and her legs nearly gave out.

Li Rui stepped forward and said:

“Liu Ao, Li Xing, come with me!

Everyone else, stay here with Bing Ge!”

They answered in unison.

Liu Ao and Li Xing slipped out and followed Li Rui and Zhao Feng outside.

Matchmaker Liu, face pale with terror, was dragged out like a frightened chick…

The newcomers each grabbed an incense stick and offered prayers to Grandma.

Xu Chen stood aside, watching Xie Bingran’s bowed silhouette in silence.

Fat Aunt Feng huddled in a corner, her heart pounding at the sight of thirty burly youths.

Panicked, she pressed her bulk against the wall and slipped out the gate.

Once out of the Xie courtyard, she hurried along the lane and nearly stumbled.

At the alley entrance, a cluster of neighbors blocked her path and bombarded her with questions:

“Director Feng, what’s going on?”

“Where did these intimidating young men come from?”

“Are they all relatives of the Xies? I thought they had no family left!”

“I saw that matchmaker being dragged off—what are they doing with her?”

…

Aunt Feng twisted her face, unsure how to answer.

Those rough-looking youths inside had truly shaken her to the core.

Especially when they all cried out, “Bing Ge! Chen Ge!”…

Only then did the portly director realize that this poor high-school girl wasn’t just some penniless student.

She suddenly recalled the Xie matriarch’s wayward son—a former inmate.

Fear spread across Aunt Feng’s features as her imagination ran wild.

…

Just then, two light trucks rattled down the dirt road from the village entrance.

One carried the white-clad funeral crew—over a dozen strong.

The other was piled high with wreaths, paper offerings, tents…

They parked in the open space, and the musicians hopped out.

Xu Zhiquan jumped down from the passenger seat, called out to them, and headed toward the Xie house.

Fang Tao leapt from the back, guiding the troupe and rushing into the courtyard ahead of everyone.

Seeing the thirty or so brothers inside, Fang Tao called gruffly,

“Help carry those wreaths!”

A group of brothers answered and surged forward.

…

Within moments, rows of wreaths stretched from the dilapidated Xie residence, through the alley, and onto the village’s main street.

An old man with a goatee from the funeral crew spread ink and paper on a table outside the Xie gate.

He took the spot Aunt Feng had been cowering in.

Donning spectacles and holding a brush, he began writing Xu Zhiquan’s, Xu Chen’s, Li Rui’s, Zhao Feng’s names in running script on each wreath tag.

Assistants then affixed the tags to every wreath…

Inside the courtyard, the band struck up plaintive tunes on suona horns and reed instruments.

The mourning hall was redecorated, wreaths and paper offerings lining every corner.

Meanwhile, a mobile banquet crew arrived with ingredients and stove gear, pitched tents, and got to work in the open space.

Under Xu Zhiquan’s direction, the entire funeral took shape in under half an hour, drawing the villagers’ attention.

Curious neighbors spilled out of their homes to watch.

The women who had questioned Aunt Feng earlier carried their stools over, eyes wide at the commotion.

In the countryside, weddings and funerals carry great weight.

These rites aren’t just ceremonies—they’re a family’s face before the village.

A grand event earns respect; anything less invites scorn.

It may seem like backward superstition, but it’s the reality of rural social standing…

The villagers gawked until they realized the Xies—known for that former inmate—were holding a funeral.

Their faces registered surprise.

“Why such a spectacle for the Xie matriarch?”

“When our village head died, it wasn’t this grand…”

“I thought they had no kin left. Why the lavish rites?”

“Looks like thirty or so people are here. And a big banquet too…”

“Isn’t there only one granddaughter? Who arranged such a grand send-off?”

…

Xu Zhiquan surveyed the alley, ensured everything was in order, then lit a cigarette.

Li Rui caught up and fell in beside him.

Those two villagers with unrealistic hopes had been given a fitting lesson to ensure they’d think twice.

Matchmaker Liu was also pulled aside into the alley for a stern talk by Zhao Feng.

She’d even tried to set Bing Ge up with widowers and cripples—which infuriated Zhao Feng beyond words.

The burly enforcer sat her down for a ‘heart-to-heart’ that left her nodding so hard she’d never meddle again…

Spotting Xu Zhiquan smoking, Li Rui quickly produced a lighter and helped him ignite his cigarette.

Xu Zhiquan took a drag and handed one back to Li Rui.

They puffed away as Li Rui filled him in on Bing Ge’s background.

Xu Zhiquan listened in silence, his expression softening.

The story of this so-called “Bing Ge” girl was truly heartbreaking.

How helpless and stubborn she must have been—surviving insults and fights to earn that name…

When Li Rui mentioned Xie Bingran’s prowess in running and hurdles, Xu Zhiquan finally grasped the meaning behind the trademarks Ran Bing Sports and Chenfeng Ice Power.

It seemed his son, Xu Chen, had long recognized the girl’s potential and woven her into the family business.

No wonder he’d taken such an interest in his middle-school deskmate.

Still, Xu Zhiquan couldn’t help doubting—could she really excel that much at running?

Though skeptical, he trusted his son’s judgment and let his doubts fade…