Chapter 22: Peaceful Birth, Peaceful Death II

Translator: Irene_ Editor: Perriemix

Uncle Fu stopped me in my tracks as I was just about to step into the house.

“What is it?” I asked him.

He stammered, “Uh... Madam has instructed for you to stay out here first. Young Master, please wait here while I go get her.”

“What on earth...” I had no idea what was going on.

Uncle Fu rushed into the house and my mother came out shortly.

She walked toward me in a white floral dress.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s about your father.” She had no more tears at this point, only bloodshot and swollen eyes.

“What’s the situation?”

“Your granny wants a direct burial but I prefer cremation. We’ve been arguing for five days now. He’s entering the soil in two days,” she explained.

“Isn’t burning necessary either way?”

“Your granny has managed to get the permission for a direct burial somehow. I just can’t change her mind.”

“Since granny has already decided, what are you worrying about?” I asked.

“The problem is that your father will turn rotten and into white bones. This is a sin, I... I...” Tears rolled down her cheeks but she quickly wiped them away.

It was clear that she had been crying a lot these past few days.

“What are your thoughts?” Her words did make sense.

Having father rot in his coffin seemed very wrong.

“I was thinking that he could be cremated first and then buried, but I just can’t convince her and I am at a loss right now. That’s why I called you over, to see if you’re able to talk some sense into her.”

I nodded. “Where is she? I’ll talk to her.”

“In the house. Go in and you’ll find her.”

I opened the door and was shocked by what greeted me.

The huge living hall was divided into two sections.

On the left, twelve people were singing songs of praise, and on the right, another twelve people chanting.

An intense audio dissonance filled the hall.

Father’s photograph was hung on the wall above everyone.

Voices on both sides were enthusiastic and persistent.

In an instant, I felt dizzy. “Stop.”

Both sides quietened down.

“Who was that? Carry on with the chants!” Granny ordered urgently.

The chanting resumed.

Mother, too, walked from behind and raised her hands.

The chorus started once again.

“It’s my grandson! Why are you back?” Granny’s voice rang loud.

I said nothing.

“Your mother made you come back, didn’t she?”

I nodded.

“Come over and let granny have a look at you,” she smiled.

I walked to her.

Granny shot my mother a glance before pulling me into her room.

“Tell me. She wants you to change my mind, right?” she asked.

I nodded.

“It’s was hard for me to obtain the permission for a direct burial. Do you know how much I’ve spent?”

I shook my head.

“Speak up, silly boy.”

“I was thinking that cremation would be better. It doesn’t seem right to have dad’s body rot underground.”

“Don’t you think that I know better? Is this your mom’s teaching?”

“No, this is my own thought,” I answered.

“You don’t understand. There’s nothing left after burning.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The tellers in the temple have done some calculations for your dad. He had such big business and fire is a jinx. He cannot be burned,” she explained.

“You’re being superstitious,” I pointed out.

“In order to give you a better future, I’d rather believe their words,” she insisted.

The room door was pried open.

Mother walked in, shouting, “You can’t say that. You’re allowing your son, my husband , to rot underground because of a superstition?”

“What do you know? It is better to be safe than sorry,” Granny retorted.

“You... I can’t reason with you. You won’t even listen to your grandson.”

“Can’t you just let me be willful this once?” Granny asked.

“Since everyone’s present, I’d like for them to vote,” Mother requested.

“Vote? Your child’s on your side. What vote?” Granny responded, displeased.

“Whatever it is, we should sit down and talk it over. Dad should be arriving soon,” Mother replied.

“That old man’s been learning golf in Portugal for half a month now, right? You called him back, too?” Granny questioned in a bitchy tone.

historical

“So the whole family can talk things out,” Mother repeated.

“Fine,” Granny accepted.

Mother left the room while Granny headed upstairs.

I could only return to my own room.

The choir and chanters were bothersome.

Uncle Fu had already placed my luggage in my room.

As I was about to find a pair of earphones, I realized that the place had quietened down significantly.

Have they stopped?

I was secretly delighted but it was not long after that the noise returned.

Someone else must’ve done what I did earlier.

Grandfather.

I went down to the hall immediately.

Indeed, there stood Grandfather, dumbstruck.

He’d met Granny in Tibet.

At that time, Granny was a poor and devout Buddhist.

She had been interested in Potala, winter palace of Dalai Lamas, the sacred land of Buddhism.

At twenty, she picked up the courage to travel alone on foot to Tibet.

She followed all kinds of traveling groups and hitched rides.

Her head and face were filthy with grime for over thirty days.

Finally, she arrived at the palace alone.

Of course, she was penniless by that point.

It was also then that she was provided relief by Grandfather.

Grandfather was a pure member of a Tibetan ethnic group.

His accent and deep-set eyes were simply irresistible for Granny.

Of course, these are all hearsay. He was sixty-three years old when I saw him, but I’m sure that forty years ago, he must’ve been as handsome as Granny had described.

Grandfather’s eyes were beautiful. He had pure black pupils.

Unlike the streaks in our pupils, Grandfather’s eyes were filled with star-like specks.

It was a pity that my father and I weren’t lucky enough to inherit his eyes.

Of course, Grandfather was also a capable man. Locally, he was one of the very few university graduates.

He could also speak fluent Mandarin.

Grandfather and Granny fell in love that year for no other reasons than their common faith and his good looks.

That was enough.

Grandfather sent Granny back home and decided to stay as well.

Shortly after, children came into the picture.

I walked up to him immediately, asking, “Do you know what’s the situation, Grandfather?”

He sighed. “Your mother’s told me everything over the phone.”

“What are your thoughts?” I asked.

“Sky burial, what else?”

“What? Sky burial?” A look of disbelief fell on my face.

“Let me talk to your mom first and then your granny. Sky burial is a must for my son,” Grandfather answered firmly.

“Throwing him off a cliff and letting the vultures feed on him? That kind of sky burial?” I questioned incredulously.

Grandfather nodded proudly before walking over to Granny.

I knew at that point that things were only going to get worse.