Editing Devachanda:Main Page (section)

=The Funeral=

''The toll of bells echoed from the distant church, drowning out clamor. The the funeral procession circled the hall, singing mournful hymns. It is a tradition among the Jiang people to sing as they lay someone resting. As Jiangs became the majority of the Archipelago, so did this form of burial ceremony.

''Those who passed by heard the tolling, they will ask: "Did someone important die?" Then, those observant person will find answer in the evening paper: "It's the famous scientist's daughter, you know? The one from the serial killer case..." "So they haven't caught the guy yet? Hmph, cops in Yukaritou..."

''Luo Yejin waved her hand lightly to brush away the whispers by her ear as she moved towards the mourning procession. She wore a black felt cloche, her long black hair flowing freely, and a black gauze dress draped over her frame. Despite the summer heat, a somber aura clung to her, making her seamlessly blend into the funeral scene, So much so that people could sense a sorrow in her that was not truly exist. Mistaking her for the sister or close friend of the deceased, they respectfully stepped aside to let her pass.

''Beside her walked a tall man, his skin as dark as her shadow. He hailed from Twilightland, a place where night never falls, where people live under a blazing sun and sleep in perpetual twilight. Despite his imposing figure, he was easily overlooked unless one paid close attention, for he followed behind the lady, as close as her shadow.

''At the center of the funeral crowd, Mo Siyuan listened to the chanting of scriptures all around him, to the meaningless condolences and prying questions from the police and reporters. He felt a weariness that overshadowed even his grief and anger, realizing that the precious few moments he had left to be with his daughter were slipping away in this sea of futility.

''Yejin heard Siyuan's inner voices, intertwined with those of a young policeman who was recalling his father's funeral. It was also a summer day, but without the fresh air of today. His relatives gathered outside the bungalow, with person-tall candles burning on either side, smoke swirling in the air. People were beating drums and gongs, using the destructive cacophony to underscore the reality of a person's death.

''The inner voices flowed incessantly. One of Siyuan's friends was a Archipelago native, their funerals were more somber. Every attendee would shovel a piece of dirt to bury the deceased. His sister had died when she was three, and he, at seven, also shoveled a piece of dirt. A sudden downpour disrupted their plans, in the end, they had to hire several labours, mixing mud and rainwater as they laid her to soil.

''A young cook, born in the Marshland, belonged to a family that worshipped Shikishin, a secular incarnation of Bloodspring. His earliest memory of a funeral came from his grandmother, a woman with high cheekbones and a comically smile, who also inspired his dreams. She once said, "The meaning of life lies in eating, drinking, and making love. We love life because these things are beautiful." She left out the latter part of that statement. The Marshlanders leave bodies in the wild, letting insects and beasts devour them. Because these things are not beautiful, they stop loving life for a while, thus lessening the sorrow over its loss. Ever since, he always remembered his grandmother's high cheekbones in his dreams, shining with a white gleam.

''The inner voices surged like tide, noisy, clamorous, tedious. "What a boring funeral." Yejin remarked with a sigh.

''"We're here at the invitation of Mo Siyuan," the shadow-like man explained, his voice cultured and serene. "His connections with the Lijiang Pharmaceutical Company are quite valuable to us."

''"Even without 'listening', I know what he wants.”

''Siyuan seemingly spotting Yejin through the crowd, a spark of life flickering in his eyes. Yejin nodded slightly in response, "It's to avenge his daughter, isn't it? Let's be straightforward -- send several watchmen to deliver the head of that killer to him."

''"We must make him anxious, make him waiting, make him plead, make him desperate for pleading in vain, and only then, when he receives what he desires, can we obtain his soul."

''"Is he desperate enough now, Carlos?"

''"You know it better than I do, Ojou-sama." The man called Carlos replied calmly.

''Yejin fell silent for a moment, then turned to Carlos. "Let me handle Mo Siyuan's request on my own hands. This can show more sincerity, besides, I haven’t flexed my muscles for a long time since becoming the head of family."