1979: My fiancée is a goddess

Chapter 406 Funeral Legacy Wish
March 29th.

In accordance with Mr. Mao's last wishes, the funeral committee kept the funeral arrangements simple and expedited.

The memorial service was held in the Babaoshan Memorial Hall, where leaders from all walks of life, as well as many scholars and writers, came to pay their respects.

The gloomy sky in the morning seemed to mourn this literary giant, as it drizzled down.

The rain was as cool as ice and mist, and the rain curtain was as fine as silk, almost enveloping the entire world.

Amidst the heavy rain.

People holding black umbrellas lined up in neat rows, carrying white or yellow chrysanthemums, and slowly made their way toward the main hall.

The old man and Mr. Mao were close friends, having known each other for fifty or sixty years.

Therefore, Cheng Kaiyan and the old man also came to attend the memorial service for Mr. Mao.

The two followed behind the crowd, their faces calm and serious, with a lingering, faint sorrow between their brows.

"pat-"

Heavy rain pounded on the dark umbrella, breaking into tiny droplets that splashed onto Cheng Kaiyan's cheek, bringing a cool, damp sensation.

"teacher……"

Cheng Kaiyan looked down at her grandfather's pale face and couldn't help but speak softly, wanting to offer some comfort.

"I am fine."

Grandpa Ye waved his hand to interrupt him, "I'm not that fragile. Besides, at our age, we've long since become indifferent to matters of life and death. I asked, and your Grandpa Shen passed away peacefully; it was a happy funeral."

"Ah."

Cheng Kaiyan swallowed back the words she had prepared, and helped the old man follow the crowd toward the mourning hall.

About ten minutes later, we finally stepped into the mourning hall.

The solemn and heavy funeral music set the atmosphere in the mourning hall apart, making it feel like a tranquil sea.

Beneath it lies a surging, unstoppable undercurrent of emotion.

"I am sorry for your loss!"

As they approached the coffin, Cheng Kaiyan helped the old man offer chrysanthemums, a gesture of deepest mourning and remembrance.

"Thank you, Comrade Cheng Kaiyan."

"Thank you so much, Uncle Ye. You're so old, yet you braved the rain to come and remember my late father. I'm truly grateful..."

Two middle-aged men stood before the coffin and thanked the two men.

An elderly woman, probably in her early sixties, was dressed in a black Zhongshan suit, with short, silver-white hair, a slender figure, and a capable demeanor.

It should be Mao Lao's daughter, Shen Xia.

The other was also a middle-aged man in his fifties, wearing a black coat, with black and white hair, a slightly overweight build, and a protruding belly. This was Mao Lao's son, Shen Shuang, but he had changed his name to Wei Tao.

"He and I have been friends for many years."

Before liberation, we were the core initiators of the Literary Research Association, and later we worked together at the Novel Monthly.

During the April 12 Incident, the Nationalist government of Yanbing was wanted by the authorities, and I risked my life to arrange accommodation for him...

After liberation, he worked in the Ministry of Culture, while I worked in the Ministry of Education and the General Administration of Press and Publication. Together, we promoted cultural and educational work such as the reform of simplified Chinese characters and the compilation of teaching materials.

Sigh... So many years have passed in the blink of an eye. Who would have thought he would pass away before me...

“I still remember when he was in a daze, he wrote to me, ‘I dare to write about the warmth of spring, and even in my illness I still think of peace.’”

The old man stood before the coffin, reminiscing about the past, speechless with grief, tears welling in his eyes.

"Uncle Ye, please don't be sad."

Wei Tao said with a choked voice, "The Ye family and the Shen family are close friends, or as we used to say, they are like family to family."

He studied and lived in Ye Shengtao's home for many years during his youth, and developed a very deep friendship with his family.

This year, my father fell seriously ill, and Uncle Ye, who is over eighty years old, still frequently visits him in the hospital.

How could he not be moved by such affection, how could he not be touched by the friendship between his father and Uncle Ye?

Please accept my condolences, teacher.

Cheng Kaiyan patted the old man on the back with concern and said gently.

"Kaiyan, help me to the side to rest. I'll carry the coffin during the funeral procession..."

The old man gave Cheng Kaiyan a few instructions, then looked at Wei Tao with a questioning look in his moist, slightly red eyes.

"Uncle Ye, are you carrying the coffin?"

Wei Tao and Shen Xia were taken aback and deeply moved, but considering the old man's age, they hesitated.

"What? You're not keeping my word?"

The gentle and mild-mannered old man was unusually stubborn and forceful today.

"Alright, how about we let Cheng Kaiyan help you? We'd be in deep trouble if anything happened to you."

After pondering for a long time, Wei Tao finally nodded in agreement.

Having satisfied his wish, the old man wearily closed his eyes.

Cheng Kaiyan helped him sit down to the side and poured him a cup of hot tea. "Teacher, have a cup of tea to calm your mind and warm yourself up."

"Ah."

Ye Shengtao felt a warmth in his heart as he looked at the concern on his student's face.

After settling the old man in, Cheng Kaiyan went to help Wei Tao and the other man.

There were so many people today that we couldn't keep up all the pace. By 11:30, most of the mourners had already offered their bouquets and the memorial service was over.

Some excused themselves and left, while others stayed to attend the burial ceremony.

At this moment, Wei Tao came over and pulled Cheng Kaiyan aside, saying, "Don't rush off with Uncle Ye. Before Father passed away, he left some things and words for you and Uncle Ye."

"Me too?"

Cheng Kaiyan keenly noticed the wording in the conversation and asked curiously.

"These are some rather important things."

Wei Tao didn't explain what it was, but looked at Cheng Kaiyan with a complicated and strange expression before turning around and leaving to handle the funeral arrangements.

At exactly twelve o'clock, the burial ceremony began.

"Woooooooo..."

The mournful cries of the Shen family's filial sons and grandsons rang out, and the funeral banners fluttered in the rain.

Cheng Kaiyan held an umbrella and supported the old man, who was holding the coffin in his arms.

Surrounded by the direct descendants of the Shen family, they headed towards the cemetery.

The rain gradually intensified.

A misty haze hangs over the cemetery, where gray tombstones, lush greenery, and tender, vibrant grasses blend together to create a complex yet serene atmosphere.

The flagstone path in the mountains is very damp after being covered with moss, making it easy to slip when you step on it.

Cheng Kaiyan carefully supported the old man's shoulder and slowly walked towards a cemetery in the garden where an inscription had been erected.

"The auspicious time has arrived..."

Amidst the monks' shouts and the sobs of the crowd, the coffin and ashes were laid to rest.

"puff……"

The shovel scooped up the damp soil, covered the gray-black urn with it, and then piled up stone bricks to completely cover it.

A literary giant has now been laid to rest in the earth.

After the burial ceremony, there was a simple and plain lunch.

The firecrackers, drinks, and smiles seemed somewhat out of place amidst the somber atmosphere...

But facing life and death with a smile is also a way of commemorating life.

After eating and drinking their fill, Cheng Kaiyan took the exhausted old man to Wei Tao, intending to go home to rest.

Cheng Kaiyan got straight to the point: "The old man is too tired today and his emotions are fluctuating a lot, so we won't stay any longer. It's time for us to go back and get some rest."

"Yes, it's raining so hard. I'll have a car take you back."

Wei Tao quickly instructed his men to prepare a car and escorted the two to it.

In the rain, Wei Tao, holding a black umbrella, opened the car door for the two of them.

After Cheng Kaiyan and the old man got into the car, he handed them a small box wrapped in blue cloth that had been prepared beforehand, and said in a hoarse, low voice:
"This is something my father prepared the day before yesterday, and he specifically asked me to give it to you."

Before he passed away, he often thought about you and your work called "Atonement," hoping that you could create a masterpiece that would go international.

That way, even if he can't see it, he won't have any regrets.

So that's how it is...

Was Mr. Mao's unfulfilled wish that he hadn't finished reading "Atonement"?

"I...I know."

Cheng Kaiyan took a deep breath, marveling at Mao Lao's profound and sincere love for literature.

He nodded vigorously, and said in a firm tone:

"After I finish writing, I will definitely bring the manuscript to pay my respects to him, so that Mr. Mao can know this in the afterlife."

"It's wonderful that you think this way; it fulfills your father's wish."

Wei Tao patted Cheng Kaiyan on the shoulder with satisfaction, then looked at Old Master Ye and presented him with a letter: "Uncle Ye, this is a letter my father entrusted me to give you."

"Ah."

The old man took it and put it in his pocket to keep it safe.

"Rumble--"

The engine roared, and a plume of black exhaust fumes drifted into the rain.

The black car gradually drove away and disappeared into the heavy rain.

In the car.

Cheng Kaiyan opened the small box and found a thick stack of manuscripts inside.

Blue fountain pen handwriting, yellowed manuscript paper, vertical font.

Although it is well preserved, it looks quite old.

The text above reads: "Midnight".
Midnight is the darkest hour, but also the prelude to dawn.

When the wheels of history roll on, they never ask whether those beneath them are heroes or ants.

"Is this Midnight's first draft?"

The old man, who was resting with his eyes closed, glanced at the manuscript in Cheng Kaiyan's hand and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Clearly, this was an extremely precious gift.

(End of this chapter)