Chapter 36: Unworthy Descendant

Just as Xiao Zizai and his two companions were preparing to set out, in Xuejia Village, Henan Province.

"Snap!"
"Kong!"
"Again, let's go again!"
*Clatter-clatter-clatter—*

In a spacious courtyard, a group of middle-aged men and women were gathered around a table, smoking cigarettes, cracking melon seeds, and playing mahjong. They all appeared to be very "busy."

In the corner of the courtyard, funeral items—coarse linen, a coffin, paper effigies, and spirit money—were piled up, left to scatter in the wind without anyone bothering to attend to them.

Just then...
*Creak—*
*Tap, tap, tap...*

A young figure emerged carrying a plastic basin. He frowned at the sight of the scattered spirit money.

He glanced at the crowd, who were engrossed in their game, a cold glint in his eyes. He said nothing, simply walking over to pick up the paper.

*Slap!*

He grabbed a clean stone from nearby to weigh down the paper money before heading toward the kitchen with his basin. He needed to fetch some hot water to wipe down his grandfather’s body.

But right at that moment...
"Xiao Fan, come here. Go to the village shop and buy a pack of cigarettes for your second uncle!" His second uncle, currently playing cards, suddenly called out to him, shaking a few banknotes vigorously.

"This... Second Uncle, I still need to wipe Grandpa's body, or he'll get bedsores on his back." Xue Fan paused, forcing a smile onto his somber face.

"Bah, he’s a man about to die anyway; what does a few bedsores matter? Can’t you see we’ve run out of cigarettes here? Go, go, hurry up!" His second uncle waved his hand repeatedly, looking indifferent.

At these words, Xue Fan’s hands gripped the basin until his knuckles turned white, a sinister resentment flashing in his eyes. He longed to smash the basin onto this bastard’s head and give him a beating, but seeing all his relatives looking his way, he took the money and nodded.

"Alright, Second Uncle, I’ll go right now..."

He only agreed because he knew his grandfather loved the bustle of a crowd, loved having his children and grandchildren around him, and loved the harmony of the Xue family. He could not afford a scene; his grandfather would worry.

Leaving the basin at the doorway, Xue Fan hurried out of the yard. He would have to buy the cigarettes first and then return to attend to his grandfather. He let out a sigh.

These people—when his grandfather was paralyzed and bedridden, none of them cared, and visits were few and far between. Now that he was on his deathbed, they arrived one after another, "guarding" the yard like a pack of hungry wolves.

"Heh..."

Recalling the selfishness of these "relatives," Xue Fan sneered. They knew perfectly well that his grandfather loved company, and they lived less than a hundred meters away, yet they had managed to remain complete strangers for years. It was almost impressive.

"In the end, they only care about his inheritance; I don't even know if there's enough for them to split..." He had never thought about it, nor did he care to.

Soon, as Xue Fan reached the entrance of the village...
"Huh?"

He was taken aback. The Old Wang family’s house at the village entrance also seemed to be preparing for a funeral; white banners hung at the door.

He went over to ask and learned that Old Man Wang had suffered a sudden cerebral hemorrhage last night. There was no hope; he was merely clinging to his last breath, waiting for his relatives to return.

"Life and death are truly unpredictable," Xue Fan sighed. "It happens so suddenly..."

Years ago, Old Man Wang and his grandfather were close friends, often playing chess and fishing together before his grandfather’s stroke. Only a short while ago, he had seemed sturdy, yet in the blink of an eye, his light was about to fade.

"Sigh..."

With another sigh, Xue Fan rushed to the village shop, bought the cigarettes, and hurried back home as fast as he could.

However...
*Clatter!*

As he reached the courtyard gate, the pack of cigarettes fell from his hand. He saw the mahjong players now gathered at the door of the inner room, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Uncle, Auntie... I'm back. Please, let me through."

Without hesitation, Xue Fan pushed past the relatives at the door and ducked into the room.

When he reached his grandfather’s bedside, the oxygen tube that had been keeping him breathing had been pulled out and was sitting in his second uncle’s hand. He felt as if he had fallen into an abyss.

"Xiao Fan, this was our collective decision. We were afraid you wouldn't agree, which is why your second uncle intentionally sent you away," his father said, stepping forward with a grave expression.

"Your grandfather was gasping for air since this morning; it was clear he couldn't breathe anymore. He’s been bedridden for years, no longer living like a human being. As his children, we’re doing this for his own good, to let him end his suffering sooner."

"Could you not even wait that little bit of time?"

Xue Fan opened his mouth, but the words didn't come out. He merely nodded calmly.

"Yes, don't worry, Dad. I understand."

Then, under everyone's gaze, he walked to the bedside, gently took his grandfather's rough, wrinkled hand, and said nothing more.

Just then...
"Oh, my dear father! Why have you left us!"

His second uncle knelt by the bed, wailing and howling. The others followed suit, as if competing in a contest.

"Father! Don't go so fast! Look at us one last time!"

For a moment, the room echoed with deafening cries, each one trying to drown out the next, with everyone turning up the volume to prove their grief.

And Xue Fan?

He did not cry or shout. He simply stood by the bed, holding his grandfather's hand, feeling that familiar warmth slowly fade away, watching the rise and fall of that thin, withered chest grow weaker and weaker.

Looking at his grandfather, and listening to the insincere wailing around him, he felt no sorrow. Instead, he was happy for him. He knew his grandfather loved this scene, and he knew his grandfather had no regrets.

His grandfather passed away peacefully. That was enough.

Only...
"I say, Fan, why aren't you crying?"

As everyone knelt and wailed, Xue Fan, standing still with a calm face, became an anomaly. Everyone looked up.

"That's right, Fan. You were the one who took care of him every day; now that it's the end, why aren't you even crying?" his second uncle started the criticism.

Was his previous filial piety all an act? That was the thought shared by everyone.

In the face of their increasingly suspicious gazes, Xue Fan remained unmoved, staring quietly at his grandfather, seeing him off on his final journey.

An outsider—he had always been one, so what did it matter? Today was no different.

Back then, when none of them cared for his grandfather, he did. When they went to the city to make money, he stayed behind. While they wouldn't even visit, he rose at five every morning to cook porridge, help him rinse his mouth, turn him over, change his pads, empty his bedpan, and wipe him down with hot water, day after day, year after year.

When his grandfather got sick and none of them could return, he carried him on his back to the town clinic alone, and carried him back again.

And now... they wanted to cry here?
He couldn't.

Yes... Xue Fan had always been an outlier, and he was one now.

As for this outlier, everyone except his father thought the same thing:
"Hmph, unfilial wretch!"