Wangfu little dumb wife

Chapter 720 Helping Spirit Returns, Opening the Coffin for Autopsy (2 more)
This year's winter came very early, just in October, snow particles were already floating in the sky, and the cold wind was howling, blowing across the alleys and streets of the capital.

In the formerly bustling main street, now only the cold wind is left, whining and whirling against the eaves.

The Shaoqing of Taichang Temple who went to suppress the Tongji Society, the nephew and son-in-law of Emperor Guangxi, the legendary man Song Wei who was born as a Jinshi and the first to enter the Hanlin Academy with the No. 3 Tanhualang grade, was killed.

Song Wei's death once again refreshed the common people's perception of the Tongji Society's insanity. Even at the feet of the emperor, everyone dared not go out behind closed doors, and hid if they could.

In a short period of time, the Imperial Capital City seemed to be infected with the plague, shrouded in deep fear, lifeless, unable to see any joy and vitality that was preparing to welcome the new year.

White silk was hung on the lintel of Song's house, and white lanterns were hung on both sides.

Outside the gate, there were several people standing.

The leader is Wen Wan, she is wearing white flowers and plain clothes, Song Jiao, who heard the news from Guining, is helping her, and Jin Bao is standing aside.

Later, Song Erlang and Erlang's wife brought their sons and daughters Duobao and Song Qi, Xie's family also came, Aunt Xie, Uncle Xie, Xie Zheng and Xie Tao brought their wives and children.

Several small ones stood neatly, all wearing uniform linen filial piety clothes, linen hats, and straw ropes tied around their waists.

The sound of gongs and drums to clear the way for the dead sounded from the archway.

Everyone looked up and saw a thin and thin young man holding a coffin in his hands, slowly approaching with his head down. Behind him was a dark coffin tied with cold white silk flowers.

Her gentle eyes were tightly locked on the spiritual tablet in Song Yuanbao's hand. The word "Song Wei" was like a machete. When the knife was raised and dropped, it ruthlessly pulled out her heart that was already in extreme pain. dripping.

Snow particles fell rustlingly, hitting Wen Wan's face, even the tip of her nose was sour.

A very painful feeling spread all over the body.

There were tears in Wen Wan's eyes, her feet were too heavy to lift at the moment, she wanted to go up to see, go up to pick it up, but her body seemed to be frozen, unable to move a bit.

A mournful cry gradually sounded from behind, the gentle and bloodless lips trembled violently, the hands clenched in the sleeves, the nails were about to tear the flesh.

In a blink of an eye, Song Yuanbao had already reached the front of the steps, his hands holding the coffin were purple with cold, his knees bent, and he knelt down facing Wen Wan, "The child is not filial, and he failed to fulfill his mother's entrustment."

The young man lowered his head, his head was wrapped in plain white filial piety cloth, and his back was straight.

Wen Wan couldn't bear to look at the heartbreaking coffin, her eyes fell on the top of the boy's hair, "Sanlang, he..."

Hearing Wen Wan's voice, Song Yuanbao's back straightened even more.

Slowly raising his head, his pale face was covered with a layer of lifelessness, and his voice was deep and heavy.

"Dead."

One word destroyed Wen Wan's last belief and support.

She didn't know how she was helped to enter the door, and she could no longer hear the crying of the women's relatives, only Yu Songwei's very soft and soft "Don't read, wait for me to return" before leaving.

The last perception sank in darkness.

Then came the chaotic dream.

She dreamed of the sorghum fields with red tassels, and of the 15-year-old girl with her last hope, holding a twig nervously with chilblained hands, and writing the only words she could read on the ground: You marry me, I am Wangfu.

"it is good."

The man's mellow and firm voice floated far away, she reached out her hand, but couldn't grasp anything.

She married him at the age of 16 and gave birth to his first child. At the age of 24, she was already the mother of two children.

In the past eight years, many heartbreaks, ups and downs and obstacles have passed.

She didn't believe that the half-way couple's journey would end from now on.

……

When she woke up again, Wen Wan was lying in her bedroom. The room was very quiet, and the clouds were busy outside, leaving only Linglong to wait on the inside. In order not to disturb the madam when she was sleeping, she basically did not move, and stood quietly in front of the couch. .

If she hadn't seen the white flowers on Linglong's head, Wen Wan would have thought that she was really just dreaming.

"What time is it?" Wen Wan asked.

The Song Mansion was too big, and the high walls blocked the movement of the mourning hall, and the inner courtyard could hardly hear it.

"Youshi." Linglong said softly: "Madam has a fever, the doctor asked me to rest well."

He also said: "Over the mourning hall, my aunt and second wife are making arrangements."

Finally, choked with sobs, he said, "Madam, please forgive me."

When he finished speaking, tears fell.

Wen Wan's eyes were a little empty, and then she sat up, took the white flower from the three-legged table and put it on her head.

Linglong was slightly startled, "Ma'am?"

With gentle eyes and firm eyes, "The one lying in the mourning hall is my husband. Anyone can fall, but I can't."

While speaking, he had already tidied himself up neatly.

Seeing her like this, Linglong opened her mouth, but finally swallowed the words back.

When she came to the outside room, Linglong opened the curtain and opened the oil-paper umbrella to cover Wen Wan's head.

Wen Wan took the umbrella by herself, "I'm fine, you go and take care of Qi Bao."

Going out of the lane and passing through the hall, the sound of gongs, drums and suona in the mourning hall became more and more clear.

In the winter, the days are short and the nights are long, and it is only Youshi, and the sky is already dark, and snow petals the size of fingernails are falling down one after another, falling on the solemn mourning hall.

Wen Wan stopped at the door, only seeing extreme black and extreme white everywhere.

Erlang's daughter-in-law was the first to see it, and hurried out to help him, frowning and muttering, "Let you come out alone in the cold weather, these little hoofs, look back and I won't beat them to death."

While speaking, he glanced at Wen Wan with his eyes.

Seeing that she didn't seem to have listened to what she said, she lowered her tone again, "Third siblings..."

Originally, I wanted to comfort Wen Wan and mourn.

Before she finished speaking, Wen Wan said, "Have you sent someone to report the funeral in the imperial city?"

"Go." Erlang's wife said, "Yuan Bao went there in person."

Nodding gently, she saw Mrs. Song's figure approaching from afar, she put away her umbrella and went up to her, "Mother."

When the coffin passed through the door, Mrs. Song fainted once, but now she finally woke up, and she met Wen Wan immediately.

Mrs. Song looked at the young woman in front of her.

She has been married to the Song family for eight years. She has always been responsible for her husband and child, and will not let herself, a mother-in-law, follow behind to worry about it. However, this time, she clearly had a premonition that Saburo would die, so she didn't follow him to avoid the disaster.

Now that Saburo is gone, who will give back her son's life?

With tears in her old eyes, Mrs. Song raised her hand.

Wen Wan didn't dodge and closed her eyes.

If she did it all over again, between her daughter who was about to die of illness and her husband who was bound to die, she might still choose the former, but she was willing to bear the consequences.

"mother!"

Mrs. Song's slap didn't hit Wen Wan's face, she was stopped by Song Fang who rushed over.

With red eyes, Song Fang said: "Third brother is not here, and third sister-in-law is already in pain, so why do you need to make things difficult for her?"

Pozi Song withdrew her hand, her lips trembling, "I just want my Saburo back."

Song Fang's tears kept falling, "But even if you beat the third sister-in-law to death, the third brother will never come back."

Looking at the weeping mother and daughter, Wen Wan was powerless to persuade her, but just stood there dumbly.

It hurts, of course she hurts, and when she thinks of living alone for the rest of the decades, the pain goes straight to her heart.

There were short anxious footsteps from behind.

Wen Wan turned around and saw that it was Xu Shu, his expression was heavy, "Now there is good news and bad news."

Hearing the word "bad news", Wen Wan's heart skipped a beat, "What's the matter?"

Song Fang and Mrs. Song also wiped away their tears and looked at him one after another.

Song Fang said angrily: "When is this, you can't talk properly?"

Xu Shu pursed his lips, "The bad news is that Yuan Bao has been arrested."

Wen Wan's complexion changed drastically, "Why?"

Didn't Yuan Bao go to the imperial city to report the funeral?Who would catch him at a time like this?
Xu Shu frowned, "According to the elite soldiers who came back alive, Song Yuanbao caused the death of brother-in-law."

"Impossible!" Wen Wan retorted loudly, "How could Yuan Bao harm Saburo?"

"Calm down." Xu Shu said: "At that time, everyone saw that it was Yuan Bao who killed brother-in-law. The sword that stabbed brother-in-law belonged to Yuan Bao. The sword pierced his chest and killed him on the spot."

"No, no, it's impossible for Yuan Bao to do this..." Wen Wan murmured, but her mind was in chaos.

Song Fang asked, "What's the good news?"

Xu Shu turned his head and looked in the direction of the gate, "My uncle died in the line of duty. Yang Shoufu consulted His Majesty and bestowed the posthumous title of 'Wenzheng'. The funeral rules are compared with those of Marquis. The new coffin has arrived, and the coffin replacement is outside."

Wenzheng is the highest posthumous title given to civil servants after their death. Many scholars only ask for these two characters in their lives, and they will be granted this title a hundred years later, and they will be immortalized forever.

It is also the highest posthumous title, and it is also regulated by the marquis's funeral ceremony. It sounds like the glory is boundless, but Wen Wan understands better than anyone else that the intention of Yang Shoufu's move is just to open the coffin for an autopsy.

(End of this chapter)