CHAPTER 139: CHAPTER 85: SPIRITUAL HALL_3

Noticing the situation, Zheng Fan took the initiative to ask, "Brother Zuo, where are you from?"

"The Zuo Family of Huwei."

Zheng Fan slightly lifted his chin. Hmph, a rich kid.

There are seven counties in Yan State, teeming with powerful families. Some shared the same surname because their ancestors might have belonged to the same larger family hundreds of years ago before splitting off. However, most people with the same surname had no actual kinship. Hence, people often introduced themselves with a prefix to distinguish their lineage.

For example, a certain family from a certain place.

Just as the Zhang Family from the Guang Region and the Zhang Family of Yang Family Pit—could they be the same?

Zheng Fan suddenly thought of a question and asked, "Brother Zuo, your chicken leg fortress... does it still have its walls?"

Upon hearing this, Zuo Jiqian’s face betrayed a bitter smile as he shook his head and said, "To be frank with you, Brother Zheng, I also just recently took up my post. I searched for a long time before I found my station. Aside from the rammed earth, they hadn’t even left me a single brick."

"Then I’m better off; I have quite a few bricks over at my place."

Knowing someone was worse off than him made Zheng Fan feel much better.

"Brother Zheng, where is your ancestral home?"

"I am from the North, without any noble lineage."

Not having a noble lineage meant just that. Zheng Fan didn’t say he was from a humble family. In fact, the term ’humble family’ in ancient times didn’t refer to ordinary folk. By the standards of later generations, your family could only barely be considered ’humble’ if your parents were both at least mid-level officials.

As for ordinary families below that... you didn’t even have a ’door’ to speak of.

"The North?" Zuo Jiqian showed no contempt on his face; this young master from a prestigious family clearly had an excellent upbringing and appeared to be an honest man.

Zheng Fan added, "The North, in truth, only has one ’door’."

Zuo Jiqian’s mouth fell open, his body trembled slightly, and he said, "Brother Zheng, are you associated with the Marquis Mansion?"

Zheng Fan nodded subtly and politely.

"Forgive my disrespect!"

With that, Zuo Jiqian actually rose to his feet again and bowed to Zheng Fan, saying, "The Marquis’s lineage has suppressed the barbarians for a hundred years; every soldier in the Yan Army looks up to them!"

"Brother Zuo, you’re being too kind, too kind."

Zuo Jiqian sat down once again, then immediately spoke, "Brother Zheng, as far as I know, many other fortresses have also had new Commanders assigned to them recently. I have a feeling the Imperial Court intends to reconsolidate the Yinlang County defensive line. Are they planning to head south...?"

Zheng Fan reached out, patted Zuo Jiqian’s shoulder, and said meaningfully, "Brother Zuo, you and I are soldiers, not those scholars."

"Brother Zheng is right, quite right. That was presumptuous of me."

At that moment, Zheng Fan saw a group of guests emerging from the mourning hall after paying their respects.

"Brother Zuo, let’s first go offer incense for the Regional Commander. Afterward, we can find a tavern and have a proper talk."

"Good, that suits me perfectly."

Zheng Fan and Zuo Jiqian walked towards the mourning hall. Upon entering, they saw a tall, thin man comforting the widow and her son. Behind this man stood more than ten elderly men.

Zuo Jiqian lowered his voice and said to Zheng Fan, "That’s the Prefect of Nanwang City, Master Lin. The people beside him are all patriarchs of the prominent local families."

Zheng Fan nodded and, along with Zuo Jiqian, went forward to get incense sticks.

The mourning hall was very large, with a top-quality sandalwood coffin placed in the center.

Perhaps due to the large number of guests who came to pay their respects, and the Yan people not being overly concerned with etiquette, incense tables had been placed on all four sides of the coffin for efficiency.

It was like increasing the number of security checkpoints from one to four to facilitate crowd flow.

Even so, the people waiting to offer incense still filled the mourning hall several circles deep.

The Prefect, in particular, was putting on a show of being close to the people, and with so many patriarchs of prominent local families accompanying him, he further obstructed the flow of people.

No one dared to urge them on; instead, everyone nearby had to wear matching expressions.

When the Prefect was serious, everyone had to be serious. When the Prefect smiled, everyone else had to return a smile of similar intensity.

Zheng Fan felt dizzy from the incense fumes and was somewhat regretful. If he had known, he would have just walked around for a bit and left, instead of insisting on offering incense. He wasn’t here for a lottery draw, after all.

At that moment, A Ming, who had been standing behind Zheng Fan, leaned in and whispered in his ear, "My lord, there’s a sound coming from the coffin."

Zheng Fan’s gaze immediately sharpened. He tilted his head back slightly and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Excluding the impractical possibility that the Regional Commander’s family had deliberately put something like his late pet dog or cat into the coffin to accompany him... that could only mean one thing...

Zheng Fan suddenly wondered what was going on with this world. Back in the North, it was understandable that the barbarians liked to play with corpses. But why, now that he was in the South, was he about to encounter a reanimated corpse?

"If I had known, I would have brought Liang Cheng with me," Zheng Fan quipped to himself.

A zombie meeting another zombie, it’s like old friends from the same village meeting – they could at least have a few words.

However, just then,

a sudden change occurred!

BANG!

A loud noise reverberated as the coffin lid suddenly flew into the air.

Everyone in the mourning hall cried out in alarm.

Immediately, a hand rose from the coffin, holding up a spherical object covered in dense, tiny holes.

Before anyone could react, a CLICK came from within the sphere.

SWISH SWISH SWISH SWISH SWISH!!!!!

Innumerable fine needles shot out from the sphere in all directions!

In that critical instant, A Ming grabbed Zheng Fan’s shoulder, yanked him backward, and simultaneously threw himself in front of Zheng Fan.

"AHHH!!!"

"AHHH!!"

"AHHH!!"

Countless screams echoed within the mourning hall.

Zheng Fan felt A Ming’s body, shielding him, tremble several times; clearly, he too had been hit by several needles.

"HISS..."

Amidst the chaos in the mourning hall, A Ming first drew a sharp breath.

Then, he deliberately turned his head to look at Zheng Fan, whom he was protecting behind him, and asked, "My lord, I didn’t quite catch what you just said. Could you repeat it?"

----

Thanks to Si Yan for becoming the 54th Alliance Master of "Demon’s Arrival!"

Ahem, also, occasionally ’driving’ [making suggestive jokes] can be amusing, but everyone, please don’t overdo it in the live comments. I genuinely didn’t intend to use the names Yinlang County and Green Willow Fortress to pad the word count with explanations...

Right, try to post more constructive comments, alright? *Taps blackboard emphatically*