Chapter 11: Encountering a Funeral While Traveling Through the Mountains—What You Fear Comes to You

The next day.

Early morning.

After breakfast.

“I’m going to help Mrs. Li again today. Do you want to come along?” Li Siyu was dressed plainly this time.

She didn’t carry a vegetable basket or bring anything at all.

Zhang Hao shook his head. “I won’t go.”

“All right.” Li Siyu paused, hesitated for a moment, then added, “I didn’t prepare lunch for you today. You can eat at Mrs. Li’s place.”

“We’ll see. I might not make it there by noon. If I can’t, I’ll handle lunch myself,” Zhang Hao said after a moment’s thought.

Li Siyu glanced at him suspiciously, took out her phone from her pocket, and after a while looked up and said, “I’ve transferred some money to you. You can buy some food.”

Zhang Hao didn’t like crowded places and had never attended anyone’s feast.

Li Siyu had known this since childhood.

She said nothing more and turned to leave the courtyard.

Zhang Hao watched her departing figure, stretched briefly, and began clearing the dishes.

He finished tidying up the dishes as quickly as possible, then returned inside to retrieve a prepared blade. Staring at its sharp edge gleaming coldly, he carefully wrapped it in cloth and tucked it at his lower back.

Next, he took out the Spiritual Solid Blue bag, put on straw sandals, and packed incense stands, incense sticks, red strings, and all other necessary items, along with some fruit offerings, securing them on his back.

He also grabbed a straight wooden staff found in the cellar to use as a walking stick. Everything was ready; all that remained was to set out for the mountain.

Fully equipped, Zhang Hao stood in the small courtyard and turned to gaze at the towering mountain behind him. A faint smile curved his lips.

Yesterday, he had done some simple calculations based on the ancient texts. He discovered that today was an auspicious day for venturing into the mountain, a day when everything would proceed smoothly and treasures might be found.

He had been eager for this moment, and seeing the results, he decided to start his journey today.

Now, with Li Siyu gone and his preparations complete, he was ready to depart.

He glanced once more at the somewhat dilapidated courtyard and sighed silently, shaking his head.

Without hesitation, he took up his walking stick in one hand, slung the empty Spiritual Solid Blue bag over his shoulder, hoisted his pack, stepped into his straw sandals, and strode out of the courtyard.

...

Walking along the village’s half-dry, half-muddy dirt road, he lifted his head and straightened his back.

Today would be the most important day of his life.

Regardless of whether he found anything in the mountain, this journey symbolized a true change; he would no longer live idly as he had in his past life.

However, Zhang Hao soon realized something was strange—unusual about the village.

It was seven in the morning.

Normally, this was the time when villagers would be heading to the fields, carrying hoes and farming tools. Usually, he would have seen people along the road, but today... as he walked toward the village entrance and approached the mountain, he hadn’t seen a single person—not even a child.

It was truly odd.

Could it be a holiday for the villagers today?

No, that couldn’t be. Farmers didn’t have holidays.

Just as Zhang Hao was puzzled, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a faded joss paper stuck to the ground at the corner of a wall. The upper part fluttered conspicuously in the wind.

Instantly, he stopped in his tracks, his pupils contracting, his expression turning uneasy.

Joss paper... and it was relatively new.

Putting this together with the absence of people on the road and knowing that Li Siyu had been helping Mrs. Li frequently these days...

Zhang Hao quickly entertained a possibility.

Could it be that someone in the village was holding a funeral today?

In Zhaojia Village, it was customary for the deceased to remain at home, with a wake lasting seven days before the funeral procession.

Moreover, if someone had a funeral, every household in the village was required to send someone to assist, even if there was little to do.

This explained why no one was out and about today and why joss paper littered the roads.

Seven days ago... that was exactly the day of his rebirth.

Zhang Hao stood still, setting aside other thoughts, focusing on recalling something he had read in the ancient texts.

“Encountering a funeral procession before mountain ventures brings bad luck; hasten your steps.”

In essence, if one met a funeral procession before entering the mountain, it was considered an ill omen. The misfortune of the deceased could cling to the traveler, offending the mountain gods and spirits.

But if he turned back now, went home immediately, that wouldn’t be good either.

He had prepared fully for this mountain journey—his first ever. To return now would affect future ventures.

Damn it. Wasn’t today supposed to be a smooth journey? What a joke!

Fortunately, he had only seen the joss paper and hadn’t yet encountered the funeral procession itself. The misfortune lingering on him was mild, and as long as he performed a simple ritual after entering the mountain, he wouldn’t offend the mountain gods.

Simply put, he still had time to proceed.

With that thought, Zhang Hao stopped hesitating and raised his foot to continue walking.

Just then—

Drip, drip, clatter—

From a small village path beside him, the mournful yet somehow festive sound of a suona horn arose.

Zhang Hao snapped his head around. His narrowed eyes saw a group of people dressed in plain white coarse cloth, some playing suona horns, others beating gongs, some tossing the faded joss paper into the air, and others holding banners.

They passed by the houses, following the mountain path upward.

“Old man, now that you’ve left, how am I supposed to live alone? Ha ha ha, old man, take me with you too...”

“Dad, you just left like that? We still want to continue honoring you. Dad, don’t you care about your children? How could you leave us like this...”

“Wuuu wuuu wuuu...”

Four men wearing pointed white hats and white coarse cloth tops, with black pants and shoes, carried a deep brown coffin.

Behind the coffin were mourners dressed in hemp cloth and mourning clothes, with black bands tied on their left arms.

They crawled on the ground, some kneeling, some crouching, wailing uncontrollably. Their pants were stained with mud, losing their original color. Even so, they struggled to keep pace with the coffin.

Behind these filial mourners were other villagers in plain black clothes, also wearing black bands on their left arms. Some wiped away tears furtively, some bowed their heads in silent mourning, others wept openly, and many followed quietly, their lips trembling downward.

The haunting sound of the suona horn hung over the group, wrapping everything in sorrow and desolation.

Zhang Hao was not swayed by this grief and desolation; his heart was a tangle of emotions.

He recognized the family following the coffin.

It was the family of Old Zhao from the north side of the village. Judging by his age, Old Zhao was over ninety and already considered very long-lived in the village.

But this funeral was truly coincidental...

Fear was useless; what comes, comes.

He had hoped to avoid the funeral procession entirely—if he could, his mountain journey wouldn’t be affected.

But in the next moment, the funeral procession was right there...

Zhang Hao shivered, quickly collecting himself.

Since he had encountered the procession, he couldn’t just sit back and accept fate; he had to do something.

At this moment, he recalled what the “Mountain Journey Travelogue” recorded about encountering a funeral procession before a mountain venture.

It was simple: “Offer sacrifices to the mountain god, dispel misfortune, and pray for safety.”

As long as he reached the foot of the mountain before the procession ascended, performed the ritual to honor the mountain god, and cleansed himself of misfortune, he could proceed with his journey as planned.

With this in mind, Zhang Hao didn’t waste a moment and started running toward the mountain’s base.