Even if the Ruan family didn't come to make a noise, Guan Suyi planned to hold an extravagant ritual for his younger siblings. Because the emperor visited Zhao's house to worship yesterday, many relatives and dignitaries came to Jueyin Temple to participate in the ceremony, and there were also Zhao Jinyu's comrades in arms. The scene was grand. And he himself is still fighting on the battlefield, and he doesn't know when he will be able to return.
The Ruan family didn't arrive until after noon, all of them with bruised noses and swollen faces, as if they were in great distress. Without saying a word, they rushed to the old lady's feet and shouted for help, bluntly saying that all the money was looted by the robbers, and now they don't even have the trouble of returning home, so please be kind to the Zhao family.
After all, it was the Ruan family, and at her funeral, even if the old lady hated them, she had to hold her nose to prepare a few wing rooms and settle them in the Jue Yin Temple.
At the same time, Guan Suyi is locking herself in the house to write a funeral for Nguyen, and will sing and burn on the altar later to comfort her spirit in heaven. As she said before, she will never admit her mistake for caesarean section, not for her own reputation, but for her child's future. So what can be written
She abandoned her distracting thoughts and carefully recalled every bit of her time with Nguyen. She felt distressed that she was burdened by her appearance and trapped in poverty, but also admired her for filial piety to her mother-in-law and kindness to the younger generation. She had a harmonious relationship with herself, supported each other, and thought about it. , teardrops have been dripping down, wet clothes.
After a while, she finally picked up the pen and slowly wrote, "In September of the fourth year of Shengyuan, I mourned my younger brother and sister Ruan at the Jue Yin Temple. I met at the beginning of the year..." After writing for a full hour, I cried and wrote, and I cried. , until his eyes were blushing before slowly closing the last one, sitting in a chair in a daze.
At this moment, her mind was filled with Nguyen's voice, face, smile, and dying calls, and Huo Naer and Huo Shengzhe were all forgotten. What do you want children to be in love with, and what glory and wealth do you want? Being able to live well and raising a few children is the sweetest thing in the world.
Thinking of the heartbroken Mu Mu and the little baby who was waiting to be fed, whom she had named Zhao Huaien, she finally wiped away the last tear and went to the dojo with the offering.
"Master Guan, has the sacrificial text been written?" Master Xuanguang asked in a warm voice.
"It's written, do you want to see it, Master?" Guan Suyi folded his hands together and saluted respectfully.
"No, let the deceased see it first." Master Xuanguang stretched out his hand and motioned her to walk up to the altar. When she sat down and struck the wooden fish, he ordered the monks sitting around the altar to start chanting. Damage to the body is a major taboo, and it requires sincere repentance and recitation of the rebirth scriptures for seven, seven and forty-nine days to make up for it.
The curling Sanskrit sounds and hazy smoke lingered in the air, and there was a strong sandalwood fragrance infecting the left and right sides, which made people feel solemn and at the same time extraordinarily peaceful. The relatives and dignitaries who came to worship one after another knelt down on the futon, put their hands together, and chanted the scriptures.
They looked up to Mrs. Guan on the viewing altar, wanting to hear how she consoled the dead.
Guan Suyi knelt in front of the spirit with her back to the crowd, and recited a passage of rebirth scriptures sincerely, and then picked up the manuscript paper to sing and read the sacrificial text. At this time, most of the sacrificial texts imitated the four-character rhyme of the "Book of Songs" elegant ode, or used parallel style, aiming to be solemn and serious; but she recalled the sadness of the past, and did not want to limit the expression with four or five characters or six or seven sentences. , blocked the mourning, broke the convention and format, and wrote an essay.
The first few paragraphs recall how the two fell in love with each other, and how Nguyen was filial to her mother-in-law and caring for the younger generation. Next, she briefly described several major changes that occurred in Zhao's house, and made the family stay calm, support each other, and take care of each other. The process of overcoming difficulties together is written so vividly that it seems to be in front of you. There are many sufferings and fears, but there are more warm and peaceful, which vividly renders Nguyen's innocuous, gentle and submissive image.
The next few paragraphs turned sharply, and she began to detail her poisoning and dystocia until she died of blood. In order to save the child, how did she struggle desperately to survive; when she learned that both the mother and the fetus were in danger, how did she resolutely abandon herself and keep the child. She is soft on the outside and firm on the inside with the brushwork of peeling off layer by layer, revealing her most affectionate and sexual side.
Before her death, the voices and shouts, accompanied by Guan Suyi's choked recitation, seemed to ring on the altar and touched her ears, causing the relatives, friends and nobles under the stage to burst into tears and heartbroken. Even the monks who have never been sad or happy, and who have been enlightened, also interrupted the scriptures, knocked on the wooden fish, and had to stop to wipe their tears. They had never heard such a mourning ordeal, which made people feel like they were there, and they wished they could lift the coffin and shake the dead with all their might, crying and begging her to come back to life.
The chanting stopped, and the singing continued. Everyone listened carefully with tears in their eyes.
The last few paragraphs finally emerge from the tragic scene and begin to describe the arrival of the newborn. He spit out a mouthful of amniotic fluid, and then cried out loudly; when he was hugged into his arms, he automatically grabbed at his aunt's skirt, his small hands were soft but so strong; he lay beside his mother to say goodbye to her, a little child who was a little ignorant, but with surging vitality After dissipating the aura of death, the mother's wide-open eyes slowly closed, and she left with satisfaction.
Three turns in a row, rising and falling, laughing after crying, but wanting to cry even more after laughing, a sacrificial text less than a thousand words, but the entire Jueyin Temple fell into silence, only the sound of choking, bursts of tears reverberates in the air. Not to mention the relatives who come and go frequently, even those who have never known each other, all cried red eyes for this gentle and strong mother, and broke her liver and intestines.
Guan Suyi's throat was completely hoarse, and she was about to throw the sacrifice into the brazier, but was firmly grasped by one hand, and when she looked sideways, it was Master Xuanguang.
His eyes were red, his clothes were soaked, and he had just cried. After doing so many rituals and saving so many dead souls, this is the first time he has stopped chanting because of a sacrificial text. But he loves writing and is crazy, and he must not let this strange and sad text go to the flames.
"Master Guan's writing ability is superb, his emotions are moving, he breaks the limit of rhythm, and creates the top of eulogy. This sacrifice written with stained tears and thick blood in the heart is enough to make the dead sleep peacefully and the living feel relieved. Why do we need to recite the scriptures? The text? Guan donor, please sacrifice this text in front of the spirit, and don't burn it, otherwise the poor monk will worry every day and feel uneasy." He carefully took the manuscript, packed it in a sandalwood box, and placed it on the On the altar table, and then folded his hands and prayed three times.
He had already heard about the fame of the Guan family's writings, and he had also read a lot of works by Mr. Guan and Father Guan, but he was not shocked when he heard this sacrificial text.
Mrs. Guan broke the parallel into the scattered, not imitating the ancients and imitating the present, not sticking to the form, not trapped in the routine, the text follows the heart, and the feelings come to the meaning. The entire text is cast with tears and painted with blood, making the grief pierce the bones and the heart, how can the world bear it
Master Xuanguang reminisced over the words and phrases again and again, his eyes reddened again and again, and tears fell. When it comes to the power of writing, the situation generates love. Mrs. Guan stood in front of the stage, not to mention Xu Guangzhi, even her grandfather and father had to retreat.
Most of the people who come to worship today are the powerful, and they are also relatives and friends of the two great literary families, Guan and Zhong, who are proficient in literary and calligraphy.
"This article is the pinnacle of sacrificial writing, and it is the absolute best to sing!" A Hongru praised with tears in his eyes, and the rest choked up and agreed, it was hard to say.
Father Guan and Father Guan quickly waved their hands to humble themselves, but they were proud of the pearl in their hearts. They knew that Yiyi did not write this article for fame, but for rectification. The scene of taking a child by caesarean section must be bloody and terrifying for ordinary people to think about. Although the emperor opened his eyes for it, he couldn't stop others from being disgusted. But she described this passage from Nguyen's perspective, all the blood has turned into a mother's love that forgets one's life and an inescapable mourning; all the horror has turned into the ultimate joy of the birth of the newborn and the hope for the future life. hope.
By the time this poignant and poignant wording and the sincere and touching sacrifices are spread, no one will abuse the witches and ghosts, but will only remember Nguyen's chastity and loneliness. That's the power of words.
When the crowd around the altar was weeping sadly, Emperor Shengyuan in the white dragon fish suit stood in an inconspicuous corner, listening silently and staring silently.
"This is the first time I have shed tears for someone irrelevant." He turned back to look at Bai Fu, with tears in his eyes.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Madam's writing is so good and touching. Let the servants, let the servants cry for a while. God-killed Miao people, Zuoshi poured poison into Zhao's house, causing Ruan's and his own children to die. We will never see each other again. Woohoo..." Bai Fu burst into tears and was out of breath from crying.
Emperor Shengyuan didn't blame him, and when he had enough crying, he gave a low order, "Go and invite Madam to the backyard wing, I want to talk to her."
Bai Fu didn't dare to delay, blew out a tube of snot, wiped it with a handkerchief, and then sneaked away.
Guan Suyi was exhausted after the previous day's ritual. Hearing Master Xuanguang's invitation, he thought he was going to discuss the next day's ritual with himself. He hurried to the backyard before he even had time to drink the tea, and just opened the door. It was pulled into a broad and warm chest, hugged tightly, and clasped tightly.
"You bastard, you're here again!" She was so angry that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were spitting fire. She clenched fists with both hands and kept pounding the man's back, but she only felt that she hit the iron wall, and her joints hurt badly.
"Stop hitting, be careful of hurting your hands." Emperor Sheng Yuan held her wrist and gently pulled it down to tie it to his side.
"Madam, can you hold me for a while? I'm very sad." He buried his cheeks in Madam Xinxiang's neck and pleaded in a muffled voice.
Guan Suyi noticed that her shoulder was wet, and it seemed that tears soaked through the fabric and touched her skin, and she couldn't help but be a little stunned. This man was crying, and the dignified emperor was crying beside his ear, why? Or - for whom
She stopped struggling, waited quietly, and then said solemnly when the person's mood eased a little, "Your Majesty, please look up to see where this is, and what am I wearing? Such frivolous things are going on at the sacrificial ceremony of my younger brother and sister. Aren't you ashamed?"
Emperor Shengyuan slowly raised his head and said, "Just holding his wife and crying for a moment, how can it be considered frivolous? What I did is completely in line with the solemnity and sadness of the sacrificial ceremony."