Li Shui's expression turned solemn in an instant.
He explained gravely, "Natlan does have the means to revive the dead—but only those Natlan warriors who die during the Sacred Night Pilgrimage of Returning Fire, and even then, only if the Pyro Archon pays a sufficient price."
His gaze sharpened.
"Under normal circumstances, living beings—including gods—cannot cross the boundary between life and death."
His tone grew stern by the end, clearly warning Song Yinjian not to entertain such thoughts. Song Yinjian smiled faintly, voice relaxed.
"Uncle, you worry too much. I've never had any intention of reviving the dead. After all, I'm still relying on funerals to make a living. I was only asking because of something I saw today."
Then he told Li Shui everything about Duke De'an.
After listening, Li Shui couldn't help but feel sympathy. He sighed.
"To lose a wife in middle age, and a daughter in old age… that's truly miserable." He paused, unexpectedly thoughtful.
"But life is a bitter journey. We sit in a small boat of suffering, searching for the shore of happiness."
Song Yinjian stared.
A long moment passed before he finally blurted out, "Uncle… I didn't expect someone as rough as you to say something that philosophical."
Li Shui's face darkened.
"What do you mean rough?! This immortal possesses adeptal dignity! You little brat don't know a damn thing!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he grabbed the wine jar on the table, tilted his head back, and began chugging as if that was the only way to vent his anger.
Song Yinjian saw through him immediately and jumped up to snatch the jar back.
In an instant, the two were wrestling over it—shoving, tugging, laughing and swearing at each other all at once.
......…
Five days later, inside the Adeptal Rites shop, Song Yinjian lay slumped in a lounge chair behind the counter, feeling thoroughly depressed.
Duke De'an still couldn't accept his daughter's death. He stayed beside the body all day, praying for a miracle.
Just then, a little girl came skipping over, holding a paper flower she'd just finished folding. She signed excitedly with bright eyes, clearly hoping for praise.
Looking at her innocent expression, Song Yinjian's gloom eased slightly. He gave her a thumbs-up.
The girl's face immediately bloomed with a sunshine-bright smile. She bounced back to her spot, happily returning to her paper flowers.
Song Yinjian turned his head and looked around the shop. His tongue clicked in disbelief.
The wreaths made by the deaf-mute children had piled up like a mountain, almost taking over an entire corner of the room.
That sight only made him feel more depressed.
He got up from the lounge chair, straightened his clothes, and headed toward Mister Zhang's estate.
When he arrived, he happened to run into the same two Judicial Office officials. They gave him one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.
The good news: Mister Zhang's case was closed, and he could be buried immediately. The bad news: Mister Zhang's illegitimate daughter had gone missing.
Song Yinjian hurried to negotiate with the accountant.
The accountant's stance was clear: Mister Zhang could be buried, but the storeroom would not pay a single mora more. If Song Yinjian insisted on the remaining three million, he would have to find the missing young lady and negotiate with her.
After a brief moment of thought, Song Yinjian decided to bury Mister Zhang.
Delaying further would only cost him more money, and Miss Zhang would almost certainly refuse the funeral terms Pan Huilian had agreed to.
With that, his steps carried him into the hall where the body was kept. Hu Tao was inside, squatting on the floor out of boredom.
In her hand was a thin twig, and she was poking at a cockroach with great enthusiasm. When she caught sight of Song Yinjian approaching, mischief flashed in her eyes.
With a quick flick of her wrist, she hooked the cockroach with the twig and launched it straight at him, grinning.
Song Yinjian reacted instantly—shifting his footwork and slipping aside easily. His face remained expressionless.
"I'm docking one day of your pay."
Hu Tao sprang up like she'd been lit on fire, hands on her hips, eyes wide with outrage. "Bastard Song! The cockroach didn't even touch you! Why are you docking my pay?!" Song Yinjian chuckled, the smile full of shameless amusement.
"Because your actions severely injured my pure and fragile heart." Hu Tao puffed up like a balloon, cheeks bulging.
"Pure and fragile? Bastard Song, you have no shame! You, pure and fragile?! If you dare dock my pay, I'll camp at your shop entrance every day. Let's see what you do then!"
Song Yinjian shrugged, looking unconcerned.
"Camp if you want. But let me remind you—according to the Liyue Civil Code, using a cockroach to ambush someone counts as severe intentional harm."
Hu Tao flinched, instantly alarmed. She turned to Zhongli with a nervous look. "Consultant Zhongli… it's not that serious, right?!"
Zhongli thought briefly, then spoke with steady composure.
"By common logic, Director Hu Tao's actions do indeed fall within the scope of intentional harm." Hu Tao's face went pale.
Zhongli continued, calmly concluding, "However, in practical handling, an earnest apology should suffice."
Hu Tao immediately breathed out in relief. She turned back and tossed out a perfunctory, "Sorry," then stuck out her tongue smugly.
Song Yinjian said slowly, "Director Hu… do you really think this is over?" Hu Tao's bad feeling surged. She instinctively took a step back.
Then something happened that left her staring in shock.
Song Yinjian crouched down, picked up the cockroach—half-dead from its ordeal—and cradled it in his palm.
In an instant, his face twisted into overwhelming grief.
He cried out with tears and snot as if his world had collapsed. "Xiaoqiang! What's wrong?! You can't die!
We've depended on each other, shared hardship and joy for so many years! I've always treated you like my own flesh and blood—teaching you, raising you!
Who would've thought… today a white-haired man would have to send off a black-haired child!"