Mr. Feng Shui is building a spiritual shed, and only the guy who builds the spiritual shed listens to his command.

An hour passed in a hurry, the mourning shed was barely built, more and more people came, some people in order to support the scene, brought their own trumpet team to mourn, in addition to the trumpet team that occupied a seat in advance, the other team did not even have a place to sit, standing in the crowd to blow. The two teams blow the trumpet, you blow yours, I blow mine, and there is no tune for a long time.

"Hey, my baby is gone, don't squeeze it, my baby is gone. In the crowd, a woman suddenly noticed that her child was missing.

With loud voices and horns, the women's voices were only audible to a few people.

One pass two, two pass three, because the child ran around, completely paralyzed the scene.

Several times, someone almost ran into Wu Daguang's big iron pot, the fire was burning under the big iron pot, the water in the pot was boiling, and if it touched a little, it had to fall off the skin.

After several reminders, Wu Daguang gave up, and if he let it go, someone would plant it in boiling water sooner or later.

Wu Daguang handed over the task of guarding the big iron pot to the mason, and he squeezed into the crowd, and in the process of squeezing, several children were crowded in the cracks, unable to move forward, unable to retreat, and felt distressed to watch.

Squeezed into the team of horns, and an uncle who struck the gong shouted for a long time, people couldn't hear a word clearly, I don't know if the scene was too noisy or behind the ears, Wu Daguang snatched the gong, and walked to the gate, the person who struck the gong was stunned for a moment, he didn't think that his gong would be robbed so much, and only got up to chase after the reminder of his companion.

Wu Daguang squeezed out of the crowd and climbed the low wall of the old man's house, a cut above others, and someone had already noticed him.

Knock~knock~knock~

Beat the gong three times in a row to draw everyone's attention to him.

Knock~knock~knock~

Three more times, and everyone stopped talking.

"Are you here to attend the funeral, or are you here to catch the market, the small courtyard is so big in total, all of them are crowded in, do you all look at the boundary of the station?"

No one spoke.

"Two groups of trumpeters, dry fights, people are funerals, not marriages and daughters-in-law, play a good mourning music, why are you still comparing, what are you doing this, the last wave of trumpets, you go to the door, someone will send the bench and chair over and blow at the door. ”

"Big girl and little daughter-in-law, don't join in the fun, seeing that it's time for noon, go back to cooking, if you have children, take care of your children, small individuals, how can you stand such a crowd. ”

Wu Daguang was still talking, and the woman who lost her child in the crowd cried: "My baby is in chaos, my baby is scattered." ”

When Wu Daguang heard that there was still a child who had lost it, he immediately struck a gong: "Whoever has a scattered child next to him, hurry up and send it to the door, and the child's mother hurriedly goes to the door and waits." ”

In the crowd, someone lifted a crying child, and everyone worked together to pass the child out of the door, and the child's mother hugged the child and did not let go.

Wu Daguang waved his hammer and said to everyone: "Let's all go out first, it's too crowded, and the funeral can't be carried out." ”

A few people who looked like villagers walked out, and the remaining people with some identities stood still, no wonder Mr. Feng Shui couldn't command it, people with high status, why listen to you.

Wu Daguang pointed at a young man in a gray sweater with a hammer, from the dress it looks like a certain leader's small follower, according to Wu Daguang's observation, the last wave of horns was brought in by him, knowing that the yard was too small to squeeze, and he pulled it in desperately, obviously the leader gave an order that was bigger than the sky.

"You, that's what I'm talking about, standing at the door wearing a gray sweater, everyone else has gone out, why don't you go out?" Wu Daguang asked scolded.

The young man pointed to himself, obviously not believing that Wu Daguang would drive him away, and he could see from his clothes that he was different from others, although his status was not high, he was also taller than the villagers here.

"What are you stunned about, can't you understand my words?" Wu Daguang asked with a frown, which made the young man attract a lot of attention, and everyone wanted to see what the person who couldn't understand looked like.

The young man was dissatisfied, and because everyone was looking at him, he made a note for Wu Daguang in his heart and walked out of the yard.

Killing chickens and making an example of monkeys, Wu Daguang just sees that he has the smallest aura, the official should not be big, and he is not afraid of him, and he doesn't know how big the other officials are, so it's best not to provoke him.

Since the chickens were killed, those monkeys with identity were not refuted for their own face, and obediently obeyed Wu Daguang's command, and within a few minutes, the courtyard was empty.

The people who came to help were all from the town, and they saw that Wu Daguang could command the people from those counties, and obeyed his orders one by one.

Wu Daguang came down from the wall, returned the gong to the person who struck the gong, and called two villagers who came to help to guard at the door, and only after reporting their names and explaining their identities could they enter, so as not to offend the powerful people, and also excluded the idle people who ate and drank together.

After Wu Daguang's management, there are still a lot of people on the scene, although chaotic but orderly.

After assigning the things they had to do to the villagers who came to help, Wu Daguang returned to his own territory, picking vegetables, washing vegetables, cutting meat, and busy working.

The funeral is the same as the local customs, the only difference is that there are too many people, and in the face of people with status, the villagers have a little difficulty maintaining order.

The funeral is not as exquisite as the funeral, mainly light, as long as it can be eaten, and many local families do funerals in winter, which is Chinese cabbage with their own leaky vermicelli. It doesn't matter what the living eat, it's mainly the dead.

There are many people, and only Wu Daguang is busy with work, and occasionally has to take care of the funeral order.

From morning to eight o'clock in the evening, the funeral came to an end, and for a whole day, Wu Daguang, who was completely idle, sat on the bench weakly, and felt laborious to raise his hands, and fell asleep on his stomach on the table in a daze.

Wu Daguang slept too deeply, three or four guardians chattered, and the guests who came stayed at the nearby villagers' houses, and everything was quiet.

Midnight crept in.

Chirping~

It was as if something was rubbing, and the sound was subtle.

A spirit keeper heard the sound, looked around, and did not find the source of the sound, seeing that the others did not react, he thought that he was hallucinating, and did not care, besides, any strange noises in the countryside are normal.

Boom~

The coffin made another dull noise, twice as loud as before.

The guardian who was still chatting immediately stopped chatting, and looked at the direction of the coffin, the oil lamp on the table in front of the coffin burned to the edge of the oil, the flame was as small as a soybean, and the black and white photos of the old man were placed in front of the coffin, laughing, laughing so weirdly.

One of the guardians wiped his face with his hands, swallowed heavily, did not dare to blink his eyes, and stared in the direction of the coffin.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, the cloth on the four sides of the mourning shed began to shake, the soybean-sized flame was extinguished, and the coffin that shone on the moon and the earth was pale in winter.

Strangely, it was silent for more than a minute, and the sound disappeared as if it had never been there.