Chapter 1691: He Deserved to Die

White banners fluttered in the Song Family, and white lanterns were hung. Such suddenness astonished the nobility of Shangjing, their first thought was whether the old lady of the Song Family had passed away?

However, upon inquiring, it wasn’t the old lady but the young Song Zhiqing, the unlucky fellow who was dismissed after being removed from his post, now even more unfortunate, as he lost his life.

How did he die?

It wasn’t a secret; he had gone to Changqing Temple to practice Taoism, staying at his family’s estate, which was forcibly invaded by rebels leading to his demise.

It’s said that Prime Minister Song was furious and requested a decree for local garrison troops to suppress the bandits, granted permission to kill all who resisted, restoring Great Qing to peace.

The Emperor granted the request.

Upon learning that the Song Family was holding a funeral for Song Zhiqing, those close to the family naturally felt relieved, thankful it wasn’t Song Ci, cough, Amitabha.

On the other hand, the Song Family’s foes were full of regret, wishing it were the old lady instead. If she were gone, Prime Minister Song would have to observe mourning duties.

Despite the regrets, as the Song Family sent people to announce the death, it was natural to pay respects at the funeral, especially those who had served with Song Zhiqing in the court, needing to see him off one last time.

The Song Family was thronged with mourners coming to pay their respects.

Although Song Ci wasn’t Song Zhiqing’s biological mother, she was his legitimate mother, and since the son died before the parents, it was a profound grief, hence neither she nor the old Song Lord were present in the mourning hall.

Song Ci didn’t even view Song Zhiqing one last time. Firstly, because her health was poor and she had just recovered from a serious illness, her vitality was low. Seeing such a sight might be too much for her to bear, so it was decided against.

Song Ci had little affection for Song Zhiqing, so it couldn’t be considered a blow, but since everyone advised her not to go, she didn’t.

"How is Mrs. Lu now?"

Nanny Gong, dressed in mourning attire, her hairpin secured with a silver hairpin, slowly fanned herself and sighed, "She’s cried until she has no more tears, fainted several times, refuses food and drink, kneeling with the maids supporting her."

Song Ci sighed upon hearing this and said, "The pain of losing a husband isn’t easily assuaged. Tell them to take care of her properly, even if she won’t eat, at least make her take some porridge, don’t let her collapse before we’ve even finished the funeral."

"I’ve already given the orders."

"How are we planning to deal with the remains?"

Nanny Gong continued, "There’s a disaster now, refugees everywhere, transporting the remains back home might disturb the soul due to potential chaos on the way. The Prime Minister intends to temporarily store the remains at Xingshan Temple, waiting for the disaster to stabilize before returning it home to be buried in the ancestral tomb."

Song Ci nodded, seeing it as a fair solution, especially since Song Zhiqing died an untimely death. Holding the remains at the temple and having monks chant the Rebirth Scripture was an act of passing him over.

If Song Zhiqing’s spirit were here, he’d probably shout that he didn’t die for nothing, but was wronged, killed by the eldest brother.

Meanwhile, Song Zhiyuan, dressed entirely in white, stood in the mourning hall for a long time before slowly walking out, returning to the study, followed silently by Song Zhicheng.

Upon entering the study, Song Zhicheng closed the door and whispered, "Elder brother, is there any hidden truth in our third brother’s death?"

It was indeed strange; when the rebels came to rob, how did it result in murder and arson? Few were killed on the estate, only the third brother, Li Sheng, and a few men.

Song Zhiyuan glanced at him, took a box from the cabinet behind him, opened it, and handed it to him, "It’s all cause and effect, his death was not unjust."

Song Zhicheng took it with confusion, his pupils contracting at the sight, and upon seeing the birthdate at the bottom of the box, in familiar handwriting, he understood everything.