Chapter 819

"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! "

The sound of gongs and drums intertwined with each other. On the periphery, there was a circle of villagers standing around to watch the show. On the inside, there were a few Taoist priests in fancy clothes running in circles.

There was a total of five Taoist priests, and each of their clothes was embroidered with an animal. If one looked closely, it was actually one of the nine sons of the Dragon, such as Taotie and Yazi. They wore cloud crowns on their heads and wooden clogs on their feet. When they walked, they looked impressive.

The one in front was a Fatso. He held a peach wood sword in his hand and was chanting. Behind him were people holding rice bowls and portraits of their ancestors. In short, it was very formal. The surrounding villagers felt that it was awesome even though they didn't understand it.

There was a video of a monk chanting scriptures while knocking on a wooden fish during a funeral. In the end, it turned out to be the tune of Doraemon. Therefore, the funeral team naturally put in a lot of effort and all of them were chanting proper Taoist scriptures.

They walked in circles, followed by other rituals. In the end, the leader, Fatso, stabbed his peach wood sword into the talisman paper and waved it. The talisman paper burned automatically. The villagers around him cheered loudly. They felt that this Taoist priest was obviously more capable than the previous ones.

At least he could perform magic tricks!

After a round of torment, Fatso held his sword and shouted, "May Old Mister He rest in peace and enter the heavenly palace as a deity!"

The villagers below cheered, and many of them even applauded. One of them, a fat middle-aged man in a suit, nodded in satisfaction. Although it was a little expensive to hire this funeral team, they did have some skills. Anyway, he was not short of money. Since his father had passed away, he naturally had to make the funeral grand, and let the villagers see that he, He Ergou, was now considered a person of importance.

After the performance, oh no, after the ritual, it was time to start the banquet. Fatty and the others were arranged by the host to share a table with the music team. There were five people on the Taoist priest's side and eight people on the music team's side. The big round table could fit all of them.

However, unlike the dignified Taoist priests, the members of the music team didn't look too good. The reason was simple. Although they used to be called a music team, they were actually the ones who performed the religious rites.

In the rural areas of central Jiangsu, the traditional funeral process was like this. When someone in the family passed away, they would invite a music team. In the morning, the music team would change into Daoist priest or monk clothes and begin to perform the ritual. In the afternoon, they would hold a village karaoke concert. They would hold a microphone and play the sound system to sing, dance, and even perform opera.

After all, other than the host and a few close relatives, most of the guests who came to the funeral were just there to handle the funeral. Although they did not have much of a relationship with the deceased, they still had to pay for the funeral. There was a meal at noon and another meal at night. They could not just foolishly accompany the host in mourning. Naturally, they had to find some fun. The music team satisfied everyone's needs. In the afternoon, everyone gathered around the dam to listen to the music and watch the performance. After the performance, it was almost time for the evening feast.

But now, most of the jobs of the music team were taken by the Taoists. The funeral during the day was the most profitable, and the host would give them a big red envelope for the funeral.

Fatso, who was the leader of the Taoists, rolled up his sleeves and ate happily. The other Taoists wanted to put on airs, but when they saw their boss eating so freely, they let it go.

Nowadays, the food in the countryside was definitely not any worse than the food in the hotel. Although the price was much cheaper, the food was definitely good.

After the meal, Fatso took off his Taoist clothes and wore a white shirt. He sat there and enjoyed the wind. It was really a pain to wear a custom-made Taoist robe.

On the other side, the band was already preparing to set up the stage. A few people were testing the microphones. "Hey, hey, hey … Hey, hey, hey …" The villagers who had finished their lunch spontaneously gathered together to enjoy the village karaoke.

"Brother Ba."

A Taoist ran over and said to Fatso. He was called Little Li. He was from Sichuan and came to Jiangsu to work. He was foolishly cheated of his wages, so he sat by the roadside and cried. Fatso took him to his side.

"The host said that we have to come again on the seventh and seventh days of the year. He has given us the deposit."

The little Daoist tactfully stuffed the money into the fat man's pocket.

Fatso nodded, indicating that he understood.

"Damn, I haven't sung for a long time. Let's go and sing."

Fatty pushed his way through the crowd and entered the infield of the music team.

"Come, let me sing a song too, okay?" Fatso said to the leader of the music team.

"Okay, you do it." Although the leader of the music team was unhappy with these Taoist priests who were trying to steal their jobs, he was not that inconsiderate. To be honest, those who were in the charity business knew how to behave themselves. In this business, if you said something wrong, you would be beaten up by the host, and you would not be able to say anything.

Fatso went to choose the song and put it into the old-fashioned player. Then, he raised the microphone and said, "Everyone, Mr. He has passed away.

"Everyone, Old Mr. He has passed away. He has ascended to heaven to be a deity. Let's not be too sad or too sad. Let's all look on the bright side. I know in my heart that Old Mr. He is still grateful for everyone's support and mourning today. In heaven, Old Mr. He will also miss Daoism and his own son, our Boss He."

Music started playing at this moment. Although the sound was not very clear, it was definitely enough in this spacious venue.

Fatso started singing into the microphone.

"Find some free time, find some time,

Bring the child home often to visit;

Bring a smile, bring good wishes;

Accompany the lover home often to visit … "

The members of the music team looked as if they had seen a ghost. Let the deceased Mr. He go home often to visit?

However, when they saw Mr. He's son, He Ergou, applaud after Fatso finished singing, and even sang with Fatso himself, the music team heaved a sigh of relief. Fortunately, they met a brainless nouveau riche. Otherwise, they would be afraid of being implicated by this stinky Fatso.

The concert lasted until 3: 30 in the afternoon. Fatso asked the others to put on their clothes and follow the hearse to the crematorium. The villages in Jiangsu province were more strictly controlled. Inhumation was strictly forbidden. If they were found, they would be forced to dig up the bodies and cremate them again, even if they had already been buried.

In the hearse, the other Taoist priests lit up the firecrackers and threw them out. They then shouted things like "Soul Return" and "Have a good journey".

The young Taoist priest beside Fatso suddenly complained, "Brother Ba, I heard that some places allow inhumation. They say that they respect their customs."

"Bullsh * t. When it comes to inhumation, who has ever valued inhumation more than the Han people? In the past, when our ancestors died, they would all be pushed to the crematorium. " Fatso lit up a cigarette and gave one to the Taoist priests beside him. The young Taoist priest wanted to withdraw his hand after being glared at by Fatso.

Fatso blew out a smoke ring, "F * ck, if inhumation can still be done now, we can earn money faster. Choosing the grave according to the feng shui is the most profitable place. What a pity."

At the end of the day, Fatso still cared about money.

The funeral procession stopped under the second bridge and drove into the funeral parlor. He Ergou, the filial son, carried his father's black and white portrait. Fatso and the funeral parlor staff pushed the ice coffin forward.

When they reached inside, the funeral parlor staff did not allow Fatso to intervene. Fatso also took a few steps back. Behind him was the relatives led by He Ergou.

"I say, Boss He, why don't you cry?" Fatso gave him a look. Behind him are all his relatives. Your father is about to turn into ashes. Why don't you shed a single tear?

"But, but, I can't cry." He Ergou said anxiously.

Fatso sighed and reached out to pinch He Ergou's butt without batting an eyelid.

He Ergou was in so much pain that tears came out.

"My father, why did you leave just like that? What do you want your son to do …"

He Ergou cried out. The relatives behind him immediately echoed and cried out. Some even rushed over to stop the ice coffin from being pushed into the incinerator. Of course, this was also for show. Otherwise, if the funeral parlor staff just let go and said, "Okay, I won't cremate it. I'll send it to your house." Then, they would see who would want it.

Today's matter was completely completed.

Fatso clapped his hands, walked outside, and lit another cigarette. The Little Daoist walked to Fatso's side and said, "Brother Ba, what are you thinking about?"

"Look, what's floating out of that chimney?" Fatso said as he pointed at the chimney.

"Human ashes," the Little Daoist replied.

"Bullsh * t. That's the ash from the burning of petroleum from the incinerator. When that old man died, he was just a skeleton. How could he burn so much ash and smoke?"

"Oh, I see."

"Little Li, you're so stupid," Fatso said.

"I'm stupid," the Little Daoist admitted.

"Silly boy, do you know what your greatest strength is?"

"What is it?"

"You know that you're stupid, and you admit that you're stupid. This means that you're smarter than most people in this world. In the future, you'll lead the team. I've taught you everything I should have taught you."

"Brother Ba, are you leaving?" The Little Daoist took out his phone with a serious expression and played Tan Yonglin's "Can't Say Goodbye."

Fatso kicked the Little Daoist's butt. "Bullsh * t. Play 'God of Gamblers' for Lord Fatty!"

The Little Daoist immediately searched for the theme song of "God of Gamblers" and played it.

Fatso laughed loudly. He slowly turned around and walked toward the incinerator with the background music of "God of Gamblers" playing. He reached out and took out a stack of money from his pocket.

He casually tossed it into the sky. For a moment, RMB flew everywhere, but it was not ghost money.

Fatso walked all the way. Neither the funeral parlor staff nor He Ergou's relatives seemed to see him.

Fatso walked into the incinerator and laid down on the conveyor belt.

"Brother Ba, can you not burn yourself down?"

The Little Daoist pounded on the glass and shouted. Immediately, a staff member came over to pull the Little Daoist, thinking that this young man had lost his mind.

"Then I'll have to discuss it with my wife," Fatso shouted back loudly.

"But you're a bachelor …" The Little Daoist was carried out by the security guard. A Little Daoist suddenly went crazy in a funeral parlor. This would add to the list of supernatural incidents in the funeral parlor.

"Then … there's no room for discussion."

Fatso laughed at himself. Then, he pressed down with his finger. A few buttons in the distance were automatically pressed.

The conveyor belt of the incinerator on Fatso's side began to move.

Fatty, who was lying on top of the bed, stretched his body.

"Time to go back to the furnace and remake …"