FQ chapter 21

“What are you doing?” Luan Ye threw the question back at him word-for-word as he flopped onto the bed. “Home for one day and you’re already out of control?”

“…Just saw your message.”

Fan Qing paused, probably just then noticing Luan Ye’s earlier text.

“I went with my grandma to fulfill a vow. Left my phone at home.”

“Fulfilling a vow?”

“She said my good exam results were thanks to her praying to the Wenqu Star before the exam,” Fan Qing replied, a bit helplessly. “She dragged me along to eat vegetarian food all day.”

Luan Ye laughed for a long time. Superstitious or not, you could tell how much Fan Qing’s grandma cared about him.

“You’re going to the funeral?” Fan Qing asked. “At Granny Yuhua’s place?”

“You know her?” Luan Ye was surprised.

“Her youngest son called me. He’s a tour guide—I’ve helped him bring guests into the mountains a few times.”

“You sure know a lot of people,” Luan Ye said. “You’ve been in Xuehu Village for a while?”

“My aunt ran a restaurant here for two years when I was in middle school. I used to help out during winter and summer breaks,” Fan Qing replied.

“I know about half the people here. When I first started guiding, many of my clients were referrals from the locals involved in tourism. But a lot of new people have moved in since then—I don’t know those ones.”

Luan Ye, lying on the bed, let his voice go lazy too. “I’m one of the new ones.”

“You’re an exception,” Fan Qing said.

Luan Ye didn’t reply, just chuckled softly twice.

His laugh was faint but still came through the phone. Fan Qing suddenly felt that his previous comment, which had sounded totally normal, now seemed… odd.

His ears warmed instantly. Feeling awkward, he cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation back on track.

“You asked earlier—”

He stopped halfway, having forgotten why Luan Ye called. He quickly pulled the phone away from his ear to check the chat history.

Luan Ye’s voice came in right on time: “The condolence money.”

“…Oh.” Fan Qing brought the phone back to his ear.

“You probably don’t need to bring any.”

“Just go eat with empty hands?” Luan Ye sighed.

“Joyous funerals are usually big. The whole village probably got invited,” Fan Qing explained. “Most villagers just give 50 to 100 yuan. It’s not much—it’s about making things lively. Since you’re going with Granny Mu, it counts under her name.”

“If you feel weird about it, just buy a crate of drinks at the village shop. Beer, sour plum juice—anything like that is fine.”

“…Alright.” Luan Ye turned over. “I’ll just say you told me to.”

“Anything else I should know?” he continued. “Like customs, taboos, ethnic practices?”

“Not really. Just stick with Granny Mu and you’ll be fine,” Fan Qing said with a laugh. “If she’s too busy, I’ll come back tomorrow. Worst case, just follow—”

He didn’t finish. Luan Ye waited a few seconds, then smiled and finished the sentence for him.

“Follow you, huh?”

After a pause, Fan Qing’s voice came calmly: “Sure.”

…..

On the day Granny Mu brought him to the gathering, Luan Ye couldn’t bring himself to go empty-handed. Following Fan Qing’s advice, he bought a crate of drinks—and another for Qiao Feibai, who was going with him.

Granny Mu didn’t say anything, but Qiao Feibai felt embarrassed and insisted on reimbursing him. Luan Ye didn’t refuse. When they got to the house, he realized many people brought stuff. Mostly alcohol and drinks—stacked like a small mountain in the yard corner. There were also eggs, rice, and tea.

There were many wreaths too—inside and out, about thirty or forty of them. Luan Ye glanced at the condolence banners; they seemed to be from relatives.

He and Qiao Feibai placed the drinks down. A middle-aged man in white mourning garb was tallying items nearby. He didn’t ask who Luan Ye was, just nodded at him and handed him a cigarette.

Luan Ye accepted it and murmured, “My condolences.”

That day, Granny Mu wore a fresh navy-blue traditional outfit, her hair neatly wrapped. She led the two of them to the mourning hall.

The hall was clean and solemn, a single urn placed in the center. In front of it was a long, wide table, covered in fruits and sweets. Family members in mourning attire stood nearby. Luan Ye followed Granny Mu in and bowed.

Grandma Yuhua’s courtyard was quite spacious, and there were a lot of people. Everyone who entered had to bow in turn. Granny Mu and a few other elderly women in matching outfits knelt in the hall and began chanting scriptures softly.

Luan Ye listened for a while. The voices were low, fast, and melodic. Since it was in the local ethnic language, he couldn’t tell what they were chanting.

More and more mourners arrived. Luan Ye stepped aside to let them pass. Someone recognized Qiao Feibai and chatted with him, so Luan Ye wandered out into the yard alone—and immediately spotted Fan Qing at the gate.

Fan Qing smiled at him, and Luan Ye walked over.

“You just got here?”

“I came this morning,” Fan Qing said. “Made two trips to the town to help them bring supplies.”

Luan Ye nodded. A tall bamboo pole at the gate held layers of colorful flags swaying gently in the breeze like a pagoda. On either side stood paper figures—one male, one female—like guardians.

Luan Ye had never seen anything like it before. “Your customs here are pretty interesting.”

“They’re mostly Bai traditions,” Fan Qing replied.

“What ethnicity are you?”

“Han.”

Luan Ye glanced at him. “Kinda ordinary.”

“Pretty rare around here, actually,” Fan Qing replied.

Luan Ye was amused, then felt it was a bit inappropriate and coughed twice. But no one was paying them much attention. The courtyard was getting noisy, laughter mixing with sobs, and the chanting continued without pause.

Before long, an elderly man wrapped in white cloth stepped into the courtyard holding a horn. The noise immediately died down. The chanting women and relatives in mourning all stood up.

Luan Ye froze, unsure of what was happening, until Fan Qing gently tugged his wrist and led him aside.

“The funeral procession is starting,” Fan Qing said softly.

The old man raised the horn to his mouth and blew a piercing note. Drums and cymbals followed immediately. Someone lit firecrackers, and amid the loud bangs, a crowd began to march out in an orderly line.

At the front was the band playing funeral music, followed by people carrying the flags and paper figures. Next came the family in mourning, then the chanting women with incense sticks. At the very end came a long line of men and women carrying flower wreaths.

“This is…” Luan Ye was stunned. “Where are they taking her?”

“Relatives go up the mountain, everyone else to the village entrance,” Fan Qing replied.

The procession was very long, with firecrackers going off along the way. Some people in the line were crying, some were talking—a chaotic yet strangely harmonious scene. Luan Ye stared without blinking, his eyes falling on the relatives at the front.

Leading the way were likely the old woman’s sons—one holding the urn, the other carrying her portrait.

Luan Ye glanced at the photo and frowned slightly.

The photo frame was very small, probably only 7 or 8 inches. The picture inside was even smaller, about the size of a palm.

It was clearly an old black-and-white photo, low in resolution. Someone had tried to restore it, but even so, it could only be enlarged to that size—any bigger and the face would blur completely.

“This photo…” Luan Ye didn’t finish the sentence.

“It’s hard to find old photos of the elderly here. There’s no photography studio in the village,” Fan Qing explained. “You’d have to go into town, where there’s a small print and copy shop that also takes ID photos.”

“It’s a bit of a hassle for the elderly to travel… they didn’t make it in time.”

Luan Ye nodded and stayed silent.

Since they weren’t family, Luan Ye and Fan Qing turned back after accompanying the procession to the village entrance. It was only eleven, but lunchtime had already started. Around a dozen folding tables had been set up in the courtyard, and someone was arranging stools.

Qiao Feibai, who had been buzzing around chatting with people earlier, now suddenly popped up again. He didn’t know Fan Qing, but greeted him cheerfully and casually slung his arm around Luan Ye’s shoulder.

Fan Qing glanced at him, but Qiao Feibai didn’t notice and enthusiastically spoke to Luan Ye.

“Ye-ge, let’s try to grab seats at the same table later. Be quick about it.”

Luan Ye didn’t quite understand. Qiao Feibai pointed toward the courtyard.

“There are ten tables, each seats eight.”

He made a small circle with his hand toward the courtyard. “There are at least 300 people here, not counting those still on the way.”

He patted Luan Ye’s shoulder with gravity. “You know what a banquet rush is like? Think of it as the Spring Festival travel rush. The moment seats open up, sit down—if you’re even one second late, you’re out of luck.”

“…”

Luan Ye turned to Fan Qing: What the hell?

Fan Qing was already smiling. By the time Luan Ye looked back again, people had instinctively started hovering near the tables in small groups, waiting for the signal.

A man in his fifties stood on the steps and shouted loudly:

“Let’s eat! Guests, please take your seats!”

The chatting groups scrambled like runners at the sound of the starting gun. Chairs scraped, people rushed—pure chaos. Qiao Feibai shot off like a rabbit and managed to grab a seat among the older folks.

Amid the frenzy, Fan Qing and Luan Ye stood still, looking like total fools.

“Holy…” a moment later, Luan Ye muttered under his breath.

Qiao Feibai looked back at them in exasperation, as if he couldn’t believe them.

“Stay seated, won’t you. You’re working tonight, right?” Luan Ye waved his hand. “Eat your food.”

“Alright then, I’m digging in.” Qiao Feibai sat back down. “I was just like you at first—takes practice. Next time, be faster.”

Next time? Even if there were 800 next times, Luan Ye doubted he could ever be that fast. He turned to look at Fan Qing, who had turned his head, trying not to laugh.

Seeing Luan Ye looking at him, Fan Qing suppressed a smile. “That’s just how it is at countryside banquets.”

Luan Ye was both speechless and shocked, but in the end, he laughed too.

“Even slower than Qiao Feibai,” Luan Ye sighed. “Couldn’t even grab a seat and you said I should follow you?”

“I could’ve grabbed one.”

“Then why didn’t you move just now? Respecting the elderly and caring for children?”

“I figured you wouldn’t get one,” Fan Qing said.

Luan Ye didn’t reply. He looked up at him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly before settling back down.

Fan Qing didn’t notice, still smiling as he pointed at Qiao Feibai. “If you’re hungry… you could grab a stool and sit next to him. There’s space.”

“Grab my ass.” Luan Ye stared at him. “Why don’t you just suggest I sit in his lap and eat?”

Fan Qing turned his head and met Luan Ye’s gaze for a few seconds, then looked away.

“Forget it then,” he said.