Condolences

Wailing sounds echoed in the Zhang family estate. It was my cry.

When someone dies, they check if breathing has truly stopped by placing silk or cotton to the nose. And when it’s confirmed to be true, someone climbs onto the roof to call the soul of the deceased ascending to heaven.

I volunteered for that role.

Dressed in white mourning clothes, I climbed onto the roof with Zhang Bao’s outer garment.

“Zhang Bao, come back!”

Come back, come back.

Towards the one who left indifferently, not knowing the sorrow of those left behind.

Shaking the clothes, I called out “come back” three times.

I know he lived several years longer compared to the original history. I also knew that once Zhang Jun was born, his day of death wasn’t far off. But when it actually became reality, the emptiness was not small.

After shouting the call to return three times with all my might, I came down from the roof with a slightly relieved feeling. Though I had just shouted a bit, I was as tired as if I had fought a battle.

With the soul-calling ritual over, now the formal procedures for the funeral begin.

Originally, the chief mourner (sangju) who oversees the funeral should have been the eldest son, Zhang Jun. But how could Zhang Jun, who couldn’t even walk yet, possibly take on the role of chief mourner?

Since he had married and had a child, it should properly be a parent’s funeral conducted by the child, but in this case, the son was too young, so it was appropriate for our father to become the chief mourner.

However…

[I am tending to important national affairs, and though I am in the position of a father, I cannot neglect the great cause given to me by the country.]

Father did not come. Due to Father’s absence, who was in charge of the important task of defending Guanzhong, the role of chief mourner passed to the next in line, the second son Zhang Shao.

Zhang Shao, like Dong Yun, was serving as a Shizhong at Emperor Liu Bei’s side.

Staying in Chengdu, he came to the Zhang family estate as soon as he received Liu Bei’s permission and took on the responsibility as chief mourner.

The washing of the body, dressing it in burial clothes, and preparing for the coffining – this is called xulian.

And then placing gold, silver, or jade in the mouth of the deceased – this is called fanhan.

Visitors started coming around the time these processes were roughly finished.

My sister-in-law guarded the mourning altar holding the baby Zhang Jun, and Zhang Shao, as the chief mourner, greeted the visitors.

My mother and I took charge of the tasks done by women in the mourning household. These included bringing out food, tidying up, and seeing off guests.

Naturally, my marriage proposal vanished as if it had been a mirage. It would have been too insensible to talk about marriage when the eldest son of the family had died and the funeral wasn’t even over.

Not all of those who had gathered in front of the General of the Guards’ Office or the Zhang family estate to look for me had dispersed, but they too just watched from a distance.

The visitors were impressive in their array. The deceased Zhang Bao didn’t have much of a network, but all the other people of the Zhang family had risen to important positions.

Moreover, since the younger sister Ren was the crown princess, the Zhang family’s status could be said to be second only to the imperial family.

When Xu Jing lost his child and held a funeral for his child in the past, an enormous number of visitors had flocked. However, it seemed even more condolence visitors had come to the Zhang family estate now.

Magnificent carriages arrived one after another, and familiar faces began to appear one by one.

The first to come to me were my colleagues, the staff of the General of the Guards’ Office.

“Your grief must be great. We sincerely pray for the deceased’s happiness in the afterlife.”

“Bochen, thank you for coming.”

Ma Dai offered greetings as a representative. Following him, Bu Zhan, Jiang Wei, and Guo Yi spoke in turn.

They must have already greeted Zhang Shao, the chief mourner, as they withdrew right away. Both they and I wanted to talk more, but there were others waiting.

“Wenwei.”

It was Fei Yi. He didn’t come alone, but brought Zhang Wan, who was also a Shangshu Puye like himself.

Though I had become acquainted with Zhang Wan, we weren’t that close, so only formal words were exchanged.

“Thank you for coming here.”

“Not at all. I should have visited the general earlier, I’m sorry for being late.”

At his words, Fei Yi added a comment without being asked.

“When I said I was going to pay condolences, wouldn’t Lord Zhang speak up first?”

“Ahem, ahem. You there, Wenwei.”

“What’s the matter? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“This fellow, the General of the Guards must be tired too, so don’t bother her. General of the Guards, we’ll take our leave now. Please take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry. Though my learning is shallow, I have read the Book of Rites.”

The current funeral procedures were also following the Book of Rites.

From the soul-calling to the washing and dressing procedures, receiving visitors, and the upcoming coffin departure.

But it’s not like we were following the Book of Rites entirely. A prime example is the three-year mourning period.

In the Han Dynasty, thinking that three years of mourning was too long, they implemented a short mourning system where mourning clothes were taken off after 36 days, and for those in official positions, they implicitly reduced the period of wearing mourning clothes, prioritizing public duties, calling it gongchu.

Surprisingly, this gongchu system was officially legalized by Cao Pi. Following good practices, Zhuge Liang also introduced this gongchu when reorganizing the legal system as Han became an empire through the Chengdi Jianyuan.

That’s enough about institutional changes, but in the etiquette for mourning advocated in the Book of Rites, there is this phrase:

‘One must not become emaciated and thin, if ill one may eat meat and drink wine but stop again when recovered, and falling ill while mourning is unfilial.’

Basically, while mourning inevitably takes a toll on the body, it was saying to pay utmost attention to health management.

Satisfied with my answer, Zhang Wan left, and next were high officials like Liu Ba and Deng Zhi. I suppose it takes more time for those in higher positions to make their way here than those in lower positions.

Although Father and Liu Ba don’t get along, Liu Ba maintains a friendly relationship with me, so he sincerely expressed his condolences.

“May you live a long life, my lord.”

Though Zhang Bao lived longer than in the original history, it was only a matter of a few years more.

Liu Ba too had passed his time of death from the original history, so seeing his healthy complexion, worry came first.

“Haha, don’t worry. I’m not yet fifty, why would heaven call for me? I’m practicing the martial arts you taught me every day, so don’t worry.”

After Liu Ba, others I was acquainted with came to speak to me, but only formal conversations were exchanged.

“Mingjing.”

“Ah, Chancellor.”

“You must be having a hard time. I see you didn’t even notice me coming.”

“Um, no. I was just lost in thought for a moment…”

Instead of offering conventional prayers for the deceased like others, Zhuge Liang handed over a piece of silk with a poem written on it.

“I wrote an elegy. When you have time, please recite it.”

An elegy was originally a song sung while pulling the funeral bier. It’s a song where those carrying the coffin express their sorrow and mourn the deceased during the procession.

It was also commonly sung at funerals to honor the soul, not just for the bier. It was a work song sung to alleviate sorrow, not to bring cheer.

Later, as death became prevalent in chaotic times, elegies became a branch of poetry expressing everyday fears and sorrows. They were sometimes heard on battlefields too, and I had memorized a few elegies myself.

Zhuge Liang’s lateness seemed to be due to writing this elegy, as well as his work.

It was amazing that he wrote a poem on the spot, but I didn’t have the energy to express admiration now.

“I gratefully accept.”

I didn’t ask separately why he was giving it to me rather than Zhang Shao, the chief mourner.

No, there was no need to ask.

“His Majesty the Emperor is here.”

Because Liu Bei had come.

At the word that Liu Bei was entering the Zhang family estate, visitors hurriedly bowed and lowered their heads.

It was the first time Liu Bei had personally come to pay condolences since Fa Zheng’s funeral. Moreover, at Fa Zheng’s time he was King of Hanzhong, but now Liu Bei was Emperor. The weight was different.

However, the real shock was in Liu Bei’s attire.

What Liu Bei wore was not the emperor’s gunfu, but mourning clothes. Liu Bei had come to the funeral wearing mourning clothes.

“Yo-Your Majesty…”

An official who saw this muttered in shock.

It’s not entirely unprecedented for the Son of Heaven to wear mourning clothes to mourn someone else’s death. The Zhou Rites also stipulated the attire for the Son of Heaven to wear when personally paying condolences for the mourning of his subjects.

However, that was for condolence clothes, slightly different from full mourning attire.

“How can Your Majesty wear mourning clothes? The rites say that the Son of Heaven does not wear mourning for ghosts. How can you, for someone who isn’t even an official…”

“Shizhong Dong, restrain yourself. This is a family funeral. Moreover, even Emperor Guangwu wore plain clothes and wailed for the death of Marquis of Yingyang Zhejun, so what does propriety matter?”

Family funeral.

Liu Bei nailed down Zhang Bao’s death not as the death of a commoner who hadn’t even attained office, but as the death of a nephew, and turned to Zhang Shao, the chief mourner.

“Because of this incompetent uncle, your brother cannot even come to his eldest son’s funeral.”

“What are you saying? Your Majesty has come in person, we are grateful beyond words.”

“For now, you may call me uncle. In place of the third brother, I will console Bao’s soul.”

Liu Bei wailed.

Father, who prioritized national affairs and stayed at his post despite his eldest son’s death.

And Liu Bei, who personally wailed in place of such a father despite being in the position of Emperor.

Perhaps it looked like the Emperor personally gave appropriate treatment to those faithful to national affairs, as the eyes of the officials who came as visitors reddened.

With a positive perception of Liu Bei already established, it seemed they were interpreting this incident in a good direction as well.

After wrapping up the funeral more splendidly than ever, Liu Bei, having confirmed something at some point, approached me and Zhuge Liang and called us into an empty room to talk for a moment.

In the room with just the three of us, Liu Bei asked quietly:

“A message came directly from Zhuge Jin saying he wants to come pay condolences. Should we accept?”

Zhuge Liang answered immediately:

“Even the shameless Cao Pi, though he set unreasonable conditions, did not block the condolences themselves. I believe we should certainly accept.”

“I agree.”

As I simply went along with Zhuge Liang’s opinion, Liu Bei let out a low sigh and nodded.

§

Zhuge Jin let out a long sigh full of worry. Seeing this, his companion beside him asked:

“Why do you sigh so?”

“You call that a question?”

Zhuge Jin, normally a gentle person who rarely got angry, uncharacteristically snapped. Even compared to others it was mild, but by Zhuge Jin’s standards, even that was anger.

The companion, though noticing, shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t understand.

“This unworthy son’s learning is shallow, I apologize. Please tell me the answer.”

“Isn’t it because of you? Huu… Do you understand? When we go, you must absolutely keep the promise you made with me.”

“Don’t worry, Father.”

Buchao. A pronoun used by sons to humbly refer to themselves to their parents.

Zhuge Jin had three sons, but since he had adopted out his second son Zhuge Jiao to his younger brother Zhuge Liang before, he now had only two sons under his care.

And among them, only one son was grown up enough to be like this:

“Who am I? Am I not Zhuge Ke, called the child prodigy of Eastern Wu?”

It was the eldest son, Zhuge Ke.