Sometimes, a good environment does indeed help with thinking.
But it only helps.
If one's thoughts are already a tangled mess to begin with, and in a certain sense, this thinking can be considered as starting from zero.
As everyone knows, zero multiplied by anything is still zero.
So if the only thing in one's mind is the question "What is death?" without any useful associations, then even lying in a coffin to think would be pointless.
Mm, the coffins at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor are indeed well-ventilated, breathable, and quiet, and in the pitch-black environment, they feel especially reassuring. Even a living person lying inside could fall asleep normally.
Cid closed his eyes, feeling the silence of the darkness.
So, what exactly is death?
In fact, just from a physiological perspective—or rather, from personal realization—death should refer to brain death.
Death represents nothingness. After a person dies, it's impossible to go to heaven or hell. Even the so-called reincarnation is merely something fabricated in the minds of the living.
After death, there is nothing. No matter what one did in life, for the person who died, there is nothing afterward.
From an individual's perspective, only everything before death has meaning. No matter how much one says "some deaths are heavier than Mount Tai, others lighter than a goose feather," after death it's impossible to see the scenery of future generations.
And then?
He didn't know. No matter how much more Cid tried to think, he didn't know how to continue.
It was all already set in stone—what was there left to discuss?
No, what I really should be thinking about is a different question, isn't it?
Is it really death?
It seems it should be whether or not I should cherish my life.
Do I really not treat my own life as something that matters?
Do I really not think my own life is important?
The way to solve this problem is actually quite simple—it only requires a little thought…
Suppose I had already died, and right now I was already lying in a coffin…
Alright, Cid had already found the answer.
The fear of death deep in his heart, along with an incomparable survival instinct, constantly stimulated him.
There was no reason, no qualifiers—just the pure instinct of a living being to survive.
There are so many wonderful things in this world, and I want to see them too.
Death is the individual's endpoint, but I don't want to reach it directly.
…
"Hu Tao! Hu Tao!" The elderly Hall Master Hu, with full vigor, called out the name of his mischievous granddaughter. Early in the morning, the old man had already begun his game of hide-and-seek with her.
"Guest Consultant Zhongli, have you seen where Hu Tao ran off to?" The elderly Hall Master Hu looked at the elderly Zhongli, who was currently enjoying his breakfast.
Guest Consultant Zhongli first swallowed his food, paused for a moment, then said, "I don't know. I haven't seen that child since early this morning."
The elderly Hall Master Hu didn't seem surprised by this answer and instead began pondering where little Hu Tao might have gone.
Then he subconsciously thought of a certain guest who was very likely still staying at his home.
The elderly Hall Master Hu strode quickly into the living room.
Yes, that coffin room was actually the living room. It was just that normally no one came to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor as a guest, so the living room had been left idle and turned into a place to store coffins.
The elderly Hall Master Hu lifted the lids off the coffins one by one, and finally, in the middle coffin, he found Cid sleeping inside the coffin.
At the same time, there was little Hu Tao, sleeping sprawled on top of Cid.
Little Hu Tao was sleeping very soundly; her drool had even dripped onto the clothes on Cid's chest. Fortunately, Cid was a conservative man who didn't have an open chest window.
But this didn't mean Cid was sleeping well either.
His face looked very gloomy, unexpectedly somewhat pained.
After all, having something weighing over 20 kilograms pressing on one's chest, even if it was soft and squishy…
For the person sleeping, it wasn't much different from being pinned down by a ghost in bed.