Soon, I arrived at Bai Wenlin's house.

Bai Wenlin's family had already gathered the neighbors, and when they saw the coffin arrived, they stepped forward to help, and there was no funeral grass platform team in the countryside, so they all asked the neighbors to make do with each other.

The adults immediately got busy.

He sewed the pieces of linen, arranged the remains, lit the lanterns, and rested in the hall......

Yan Wo found a place and began to nibble on cakes.

Before going out, my aunt stuffed a cake in her arms, and said: "I don't care about your girl's things, your cake is taken by myself, and I will find a place to gnaw it at your Uncle Wenlin's house, remember, don't trouble your grandmother and uncle, otherwise your ass will open flowers for you!" ”

Biting the cake in his hand, Yan Wo suddenly felt that his aunt was sour and cute.

The sky gradually darkened, and the yin qi exuded by Grandma Hui's body became more and more intense, urging her to act quickly.

Yan Wo licked the big cake crumbs on his own claws, and finally spoke.

"Grandma Hui, would it be good for Wowo to draw a portrait for you?"

"Portraits? What posthumous image? ”

She knew that the monks' practices included not breaking the soil, not going to the grave, not eating meat, chanting excessively, etc., but she had never heard of what the statue was.

"Well, it is to draw your appearance and put it on the offering table, for the descendants to sacrifice and carry sorrows."

The clothes on Grandma Hui's body became more and more bright red, as if all the blood flowing from her forehead was absorbed by the clothes, squatting next to her felt extremely cold, she shook her head and said: "I don't want anyone to remember me for long, I just want my son to live, Wowo, you help me." ”

"Painting a portrait is helping you."

Yan Wo got up, took a half-burned wooden stick from the fire of the big iron pot in the yard, put out the fire, looked around again, found a new wooden board brought by his uncle, and then squatted back in the corner.

Divide the charcoal stick into thick, medium, and fine ones, put them aside, hold the wooden board, and start drawing.

The petite baby held a wooden board larger than half of her body and began to draw, and from the moment she put down the pen, all the noise around her seemed to disappear.

Minutes and seconds passed.

Grandmother and they have quickly organized a grass platform team, some wearing Confucian robes and raising flags, some playing suona, carrying coffins, and some specially twisting big cocks.

The women in the village washed and chopped vegetables together, and the same dish was placed for about ten ten, because it was necessary to eat a running water mat during the funeral.

In the corner, Yan Wo finally finished painting the posthumous portrait, and his white and tender fingers were full of black carbon gray.

"Grandma Hui, look." Yan Wo rubbed her nose, and the tip of her delicate nose suddenly became dark, and she turned the wooden board and aimed it at Grandma Hui.

I saw a lifelike painting on the wooden board.

Obviously, there is only one prop, charcoal, but the shadow is used to portray the portrait very three-dimensionally, like the real thing.

Even the original lines on the wooden board are naturally integrated into the details.

"It's exactly the same as the clothes on your body, hehe, I painted it with charcoal, which is very in line with the black and white tone of the posthumous portrait...... Belch! Halfway through speaking, Yan Wo suddenly choked.

Because, just when she introduced the posthumous image,

Grandma Hui reached out in amazement to touch the portrait,

But suddenly, I was sucked into it by some force!

"Grandma Hui?" Yan Wo shouted tentatively.

Two seconds later.

The old woman's voice came from the wooden board in Yan Wo's hand: "I'm here, I'm fine." ”

She looked down.

- In the portrait I painted, the old woman has gray hair and an overworked furrow on her face.

It's just the corners of the mouth,

was bending weirdly and smiling at her.

……

Funeral rites are more complicated, and there is a stage called: Nian Pingsheng.

It is the mourner and his relatives kneeling in front of the coffin, listening to the funeral officiant narrating the torn life in the vernacular.

Grandma Hui lost her husband at an early age, kept festivals for her husband, and raised her only son Bai Wenlin with hard work.

Grandmother's resonance resonated with many people in the village, and the sound of choking sounded everywhere.

Uncle Wen Lin was dressed in white linen and had red eyes.

There was also a woman kneeling beside him, crying breathlessly, and her voice was loud enough to be heard outside the courtyard.

Standing outside the mourning hall was a neighbor who had come to help, and one of the women looked at the sad woman who was crying and sighed.

"Ye Zhaodi is a good one, crying so sadly, it can be seen that she is filial."

The person next to her suddenly pouted: "What's the use of being filial now, people are dead." I used to be a little less angry with Aunt Hui, maybe Aunt Hui won't die. ”

"Fang family, what do you mean by this, tell me?"

"Then this matter is far away, it turns out that Aunt Hui has saved money for a lifetime by buying tofu, and originally wanted to find a girl from a white family for Bai Wenlin, but she has seen a lot of them, Bai Wenlin just can't look down on them, and finally after being questioned, I learned that Bai Wenlin actually likes a woman in a green house......"

"Ah, Qinglou—"

"Shhhh The Fang clan looked left and right, and was relieved to find that the people in the hall did not come out: "That's right, that Ye Zhaodi came out of the Qinglou." ”

It is said that Ye Zhaodi was sold into the Qinglou by her father, and her life experience was miserable, Bai Wenlin felt sorry for her life experience and felt that she was pitiful, and often sent the money for copying books to help her, and she would not marry if she came and went. Aunt Hui spent all her savings to redeem herself for Ye Zhaodi, and then only hoped that she would live a good life with her son. ”

"But what Ye Zhaodi eats and drinks in the Qinglou, he only needs to be coquettish to the benefactor, and he has a hard life all of a sudden, where can he get used to the clear soup and little water? lost her temper all day long, and Aunt Hui was stunned several times. ”

When Yan Wo carried the statue into the mourning hall, the two women immediately closed their mouths.

Her height is just right to see Ye Zhaodi holding a piece of ginger in her wide sleeves, occasionally kowtowing a few times on her eyelids.

"Grandmother, there is something for Uncle Wenlin." When Nian Ping's life was over, Yan Wo entered the house with the portrait in his arms.

"Wowo, let's talk about what you have later, your Uncle Wenlin is afraid that he is not in the mood to accept your things now,...... Ah, you kid, are you going to drill the pot? A black nose like a puppy? As she spoke, Grandmother suddenly tilted her head and pulled her sleeve to wipe her nose.

But Wowo went straight to the coffin and placed the portrait in front of the coffin.

"Grandma Hui, Wowo will give you a painting." Yan Wo stood in front of the coffin, and opened his mouth with a milky voice.

In front of the coffin, suddenly stood a small milk ball, which naturally attracted everyone's attention.

After seeing the charcoal painting portrait set up in order, many people in the mourning hall covered their mouths and exclaimed.

"Sister Wenhui!"

"My God, Sister Wenhui!"

"It's so godly, it's like Wen Hui is staring at me."

"Who drew this?!"

When Bai Wenlin saw the portrait, he immediately choked up, and tears finally rolled out.

"Mother!"

He seemed to be unable to control his emotions anymore, and bent over crying at the portrait, his voice was full of helplessness and weakness: "Mother, mother, I will never have a mother from now on......"

Ye Zhaodi put away the ginger cubes and glanced up suspiciously.

Just one glance, she screamed in fright.

"Ahh

She stepped back again and again, bumping into the kneeling person behind her and shrunk back with her legs trembling, "Don't stare at me!" Don't smile at me! You've been stoned to death by me! Yes, you're dead! ”

In the hall, you can hear the needle dropping.

Everyone turned their heads to look at Ye Zhaodi.

Bai Wenlin stared at Ye Zhaodi with scarlet eyes, rushed forward like a tiger, and grabbed her collar: "What did you just say?" ”