05 Stone Book
This is the night of July 15th in Yisi year and August 11th in 1965. Wan Yanfang, the chief rudder of the Cao Gang, was killed in the Lotus Pond Pavilion of the Taipei Botanical Garden. This matter is extremely secret, no one outside can know the details. The next day, only one or two newsprints mentioned: There was an unnamed old man in a botanical garden with a corpse, and there seemed to be no relatives or family members, and there was a desolate cloud behind him. However, for the Cao Gang, which had tens of thousands of people—it was often called the Qing Gang at the time—inside, this was a major event that had to be dealt with in a low-key manner. The reason is very complicated, and they are mutually inconsistent, and it is difficult to explain clearly in a few words. Sincerely wanting to shed the cocoon, it is difficult to tell the truth if it is not a long book. It is precisely because of the far-reaching and profound implications of this strange and strange story. It is indispensable to keep in mind the origins and the roots. Here, let’s first say that Wan Defu was summoned by the officials of the Security Bureau to come to collect the corpses. At first glance, I know that the Central Plains Committee must be overwhelmed and intricate. It cannot be hurriedly ended. This water gang has hundreds of years of foundation, tens of thousands of living beings, and hundreds of billions of wealth, and it is bound to be destroyed. So I turned my mind now, staggered, rushed out of the pavilion, stumbled and fell in front of the four officials, squatted on the ground, cried a few times, and said: "Master Wan has done his work carelessly and spurted blood. Body, this is the housework of this gang. Would you please ask all the officials to fulfill the rules of our ancestors' family, without publicizing it to the outside world, and avoiding random pointing and laughing by unknown people?"
The four officials were immediately happy, and said one after another: "Of course of course. Get up and talk, this should be handled with care, not to ruin the reputation of the old man."
"There is one," Wan Defu said with a raised face, his eyes full of old tears, his nose and mouth drooling, "When the old man is gone, he uses magical power to protect his body. The body is firmly embedded in the stone slabs on the ground. There is no such rule in our help: all those who are above the rudder and the rudder and die outside must be buried in the boat. Tonight, the old man is the leader of the gang. Immortal passed away in this small pavilion on the pond, no matter how he visualized it, his old man seemed to have complied with such a situation. I am a servant, and I cannot fail to act according to the rules—"
"You want to look at this pavilion as a boat. Can you bury it along with your old man?" The first official asked with wide-eyed eyes, "Your rules are too rare?"