The people in the village were mostly kind-hearted and sincere, and although Lao Mo’s House had a terrible reputation and Old Man Mo was not well received, the dead are accorded great respect. Seeing that Mo Yongfu couldn’t even afford to buy a coffin or funeral clothes for Old Man Mo, planning to wrap the body in a worn straw mat and bury it in the back mountain, they couldn’t help but feel a little compassion.
Mo Yonglu, who hurriedly returned upon hearing the news to attend Old Man Mo’s funeral, was living in even worse conditions than before, and the money for the funeral clothes was borrowed from soone he knew well. The villagers couldn’t stand by and watch, contributing ten wen here, twenty there, they pooled together so silver. Although it wasn’t much, it was enough to buy Old Man Mo a plain coffin, so he wouldn’t be desecrated in death.
The villagers’ act of kindness pleased Yang Bao, the village head. When there were more kind people than evildoers, the neighborhood could live in peace and harmony. And since they started earning silver by setting up greenhouses this year, the village had less trivial disputes. Even when small conflicts arose, at most, there would be so verbal sparring, showing off the newly acquired items.
The funeral for Old Man Mo was extrely ager. The Mo Family had no relatives and were not close with the neighbors, so Old Man Mo’s body lay in state at ho for seven days, with scarcely anyone coming to condole or worship—truly a desolate scene.
After learning of this, Mo Yan had no particular thoughts, didn’t make a show of magnanimity by going to the Mo Family to pay her respects, pretending to be unaware of the matter. She didn’t even tell Mo Qingze imdiately. Only when Mo Qingze returned from his rest did he learn of Old Man Mo’s death, but he also refrained from paying his respects. His mood was off, and he didn’t eat much dinner, clearly preoccupied with mories of the past.
As for this, the villagers didn’t think the Mo Family was heartless, holding a grudge even against a deceased person. After all, if the Mo Family had inflicted various evils on them, it was good enough that they didn’t kick them while they were down. How could they possibly visit to pay respects and bring bad luck upon themselves?
When Old Man Mo died, there was nobody by his side. On the day of the burial, apart from Mo Yongfu, Mo Yonglu, and Mo Niu’s with her two sons, not a single person along the road offered incense or burnt paper for him. To live to such point and end up like this was an utter failure.
As it turned out, after Old Man Mo’s funeral, Mo Yonglu’s family stayed in Liu Yang Village. Firstly, to observe mourning for Old Man Mo, and secondly, life in the city was simply too hard. Returning to the village, at least they could farm. As long as they weren’t lazy, they wouldn’t starve. By working harder, going to the mountains to collect and sell firewood every day, they could also earn so silver, unlike in the city where everything cost money and daily expenses were too high.
As for Mrs. Hong, whose mind was no longer clear, perhaps realizing that Old Man Mo was gone, she unexpectedly cald down. She no longer yelled and scread day and night, disturbing the peace of the neighborhood, with her mouth twisted. However, her health did not improve. She had developed large bedsores on her back and it was only after Mo Yonglu returned that he began to take care of her despite the filth and stench, cleaning her up a bit...
News of these events at Lao Mo’s House reached Mo Yan in bits and pieces, and after listening, Mo Yan simply put it out of her mind. In her eyes, her family had long severed any ties with Lao Mo’s House. With the death of Old Man Mo, any grudges over the years were wiped clean. As for the likes of Mrs. Hong and Mo Yonglu, they were nothing more than strangers she had once interacted with.
Ti passed quickly, and before long, it was the Little New Year.
"Father, the weather seems a bit off. It wouldn’t happen to be another snow disaster like the one two years ago, would it?" Mo Yan, looking at the persistent snow outside that hadn’t stopped all day, pulled her fox fur coat tighter and asked her father, filled with concern.
It had started snowing on and off ten days earlier, but initially, it wasn’t heavy, and the temperature was low enough that the thin layer of snow didn’t lt for days.
Lately, the snowfall had increased, gradually piling up as high as an ankle, and now, it had reached a foot thick with no sign of stopping. Many houses had been damaged by the heavy snow. For those houses that weren’t damaged, the residents were busy every day clearing the snow off their roofs, fearing the houses would collapse and they would have to squeeze into soone else’s ho.
Who would want to spend the New Year in soone else’s house?
"It shouldn’t be possible... If it were like the year before last, the Qintian Observatory would have warned us early on," Mo Qingze said, looking at the dark skies overhead, uncertain.
"I hope the snow stops soon. Otherwise, many people will be holess again," Mo Yan said, very worried as she thought of the people who died or starved during the snow disaster two years prior.
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