Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

On the day of the funeral, the sky was thick with gloom, and layers of leaden clouds piled up, making it almost impossible to breathe, as if the entire heavens were weeping in grief for Dong Zhuo's passing. Niu Fu, Xu Rong, Hua Xiong, Ma Teng, Ma Chao, and others personally carried the coffin and the spirit. Their expressions were as solemn as iron, and their furrowed brows were filled with endless sorrow. Their steps were heavy and slow, and each step seemed to carry a heavy weight, as if the ground beneath their feet was dragging them down, unwilling to let the heroic soul in the coffin depart.

Li Ru presided over the ceremony himself. He was dressed in plain clothes, looking so frail in the bleak wind. His voice was mournful and trembling as he recited the eulogy:

"We cry out to the heavens, a bolt from the blue, and mourn the loss of our land. May your soul return home soon. We pay our respects to Lord Dong. Throughout his life, Lord Dong battled on the battlefields, his cavalry brimming with valor. His fierce spirit awed even the borderlands. Though the Central Plains may have had their critics, in Xiliang, his achievements are as majestic as the mountains, remembered by all. He protected the region, defended against foreign invasion, and enabled the people to thrive. Now that he has passed away, we are deeply saddened. May your spirit rest in peace, bless Xiliang, and protect our people. Alas, we pray for your consolation!"

After the eulogy was read, the crowd erupted in wails, their wails reaching the heavens and startling flocks of birds from the mountains and forests. The funeral procession stretched for miles, vast and mighty, like a giant white dragon winding across the earth. The soldiers, draped in mourning, held long spears with white strips tied to their tips, their clashing crackles in the fierce wind, as if expressing endless grief. Banners and pennants clung to the sky like clouds, obscuring the sun. The white banners fluttered wildly in the wind, emitting mournful cries that pierced the heart.

Civilians along the way knelt, their cries and cries blending into a mournful elegy. The roadsides were thronged with people who had come to see him off, a sea of ​​people, shoulder to shoulder. Among them were Dong Zhuo's former subordinates, those brave men who had fought alongside him on the battlefield, their faces now stained with tears; there were civilians who had received his kindness, their eyes filled with gratitude and sorrow; and there were friends who had come from far away, heavy-hearted, just to bid him farewell. Some in the crowd were heartbroken, beating their chests and stamping their feet, venting their grief with all their might; some shed silent tears, clasping their hands in prayer, asking the heavens to grant the deceased rest in peace; and some shouted Dong Zhuo's name, their voices filled with reluctance and longing, their cries echoing through the valley for a long time.

The procession arrived at the cemetery and solemnly placed the coffin in the pre-prepared grave. Relatives stepped forward, their trembling hands spreading handfuls of earth. The dust that rose up felt like their broken hearts. Carrying endless grief, each grain of earth carried the living's deep attachment to the deceased. As the earth was filled, cries rose and fell, as if they wanted to melt all their reluctance and pain into the earth, letting this emotion accompany the deceased forever.

As preparations for the burial began, with heavy hearts preparing to lay Dong Zhuo to rest, something unexpected happened. A young, madman burst out from nowhere, his eyes wide open, veins bulging on his forehead, his face flushed with emotion. He waved his arms wildly, pointing at Dong Zhuo's coffin and hurling curses: "Dong Zhuo is a traitor to the state, a disaster for the government, and he deserves death!" These curses were like a huge rock dropped into a calm lake, instantly destabilizing the scene.

Hua Xiong's eyes widened with anger and he shouted, "How dare you! How dare you talk nonsense here!" His strong arm instantly pulled out half of the long sword at his waist, a cold light flashed, and his eyes were full of murderous intent.

"General Hua Xiong, wait a minute!" Ma Chao quickly reached out to stop Hua Xiong. His eyes were firm and calm as he leaned slightly to the side and said, "Let me go ask."

Ma Chao stepped forward with steady steps, his posture erect as a pine tree. The sunlight shone off his silver armor, illuminating it with a dazzling brilliance. His face was resolute and serious, his tightly pursed lips revealing a hint of authority. Before he could speak, the madman glared at him, spit flying, and unleashed a barrage of curses: "You ignorant child, yet you serve this traitor to the state! You aid and abet the tyrant's cruelty. Heaven will not tolerate this!" The madman's voice was piercing, like a sharp blade slicing through everyone's eardrums, piercing Ma Chao's heart.

Ma Chao's brow furrowed, his thick, sword-like eyebrows twisted into a knot, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. But he suppressed his anger, took a deep breath, and tried to keep his voice steady. "Brother, Mr. Dong is gone. Insulting him here now would be disrespectful to the deceased. Besides, everything has two sides; we can't generalize."

The madman had no intention of stopping, but became even more excited. His face flushed, the veins on his neck bulged, he waved his arms and shouted loudly: "I chased all the way from Luoyang to Longxi, just to assassinate the traitor Dong Zhuo with my own hands! I didn't expect that the traitor Dong died first, which was really a bargain for him! He did evil things in Luoyang and defiled the palace, causing the people to live in misery and the world to be in chaos! His crimes are innumerable. Shouldn't such a person be cut into pieces? Even if he dies thousands of times, it will not be enough to appease the public anger! You still held such a grand funeral for him, which is simply confusing right and wrong, and confusing black and white!" The madman's voice was hoarse, but still full of anger and hatred. His body trembled slightly with excitement.

At this moment, the crowd around them began to stir. Some frowned, accusing the madman of rudeness and shouting, "Stop talking nonsense here! Mr. Dong has done us a favor!" Others watched the situation unfold silently, whispering to each other. The wind blew quietly, stirring up dust and adding a touch of solemnity to the tense atmosphere.

Ma Chao did not embarrass Kuangsheng. He simply waved his hand, signaling the soldiers to take care of Kuangsheng. Then he turned back to the funeral and said in a deep voice, "Continue!"

Seeing Ma Chao's response, everyone calmed down and focused on the funeral again. The musicians once again played the funeral music, and the sad melody echoed in the air.

Ma Chao looked at Dong Zhuo's coffin with mixed emotions. He knew that Dong Zhuo's life was difficult to judge, but now that he was gone, the funeral had to go smoothly.

Under the supervision of the soldiers, Kuangsheng continued to shout and curse, but his voice was gradually drowned out by the funeral music and the crying of the crowd.

Finally, the funeral ended smoothly in a solemn and sad atmosphere. Dong Zhuo was buried and became a part of this land.

After the funeral, the crowd lingered, still lost in grief. Time seemed to freeze at that moment, and a mournful atmosphere enveloped every inch of the land, immersing it in a deep sorrow that would linger for a long time. The distant mountains were silent, as if they too were mourning Dong Zhuo's departure; the flowing streams murmured, telling of this endless sorrow. The entire world seemed to be suffused by this profound sorrow.

The following is the expanded and polished content for you:

After the funeral, Ma Chao sent Dong Bai, his family's closest associates, his father, the leaders of various tribes who had come to see him off, and the numerous guests back to the Dong residence to rest. He himself stayed behind with a few trusted men, including Xu Huang and Zhang Xiu.

The cemetery, now remarkably silent after the clamor and mourning had just dissipated, was remarkably still. Ma Chao stood quietly before Dong Zhuo's tomb, speechless for a long time. His expression was solemn, his gaze filled with complex emotions. Xu Huang and Zhang Xiu stood on either side, their faces equally solemn, as if weighed down by the heavy atmosphere.

A gentle breeze blew by, lifting the hem of Ma Chao's clothes. He slowly spoke, "Although there were many twists and turns today, the funeral was finally completed successfully."

Xu Huang immediately followed up, "General, what should we do with that madman?"

Ma Chao nodded slightly, signaling for the man to be brought forward for a conversation. The madman, escorted by soldiers, appeared distraught, but the fury in his eyes remained undimmed. Ma Chao stared at him sternly, saying, "You keep calling Dong Gong a traitor. Today, before Dong Gong's spirit, tell us in detail." The madman sneered and vehemently declared, "Dong Zhuo's monopoly of power and chaotic governance, arbitrarily deposing and enthroning emperors, led to the collapse of the imperial system and the suffering of the people. Isn't this the behavior of a traitor?"

Ma Chao was silent for a moment, then said, "Mr. Dong may have acted inappropriately. However, these past few years, the powerful families have flourished, scheming and flattering each other, while the people have lived in such misery. I've been pondering this question: how can we ensure the people live a happy and peaceful life?" Kuangsheng snorted coldly, "Hmph, how is your thinking different from that of Zhang Jue, the Yellow Turban bandit who wreaked havoc on the world? You truly are a traitor."

Upon hearing this, Ma Chao's face darkened and he shouted angrily, "Stop your nonsense! Zhang Jue is attempting to deceive the people with his heresy and overthrow the Han Dynasty. I, Ma Chao, am solely dedicated to the well-being of the people. How can I be compared to him?"