The Valued Lady is Truly Dominant

Chapter 1075: Chapter 1075: Offering Condolences

As soon as the Song Mansion’s carriage appeared, someone came forward to greet them. This time, besides the steward lady, Jiang Fula also accompanied respectfully on the side, stepping forward to offer condolences. Upon learning that Song Ci had come in person to pay respects, the other party did not dare to be negligent and approached the carriage to respectfully salute, express gratitude, and offer a warm welcome.

After some negotiations, the carriage began to move again and stopped shortly thereafter.

”The carriage can only go this far. Madam will need to dismount and walk into the mansion. Once inside, a sedan chair will be provided.”

Song Ci, not putting on airs, supported by Nan Shan, stepped down onto the stool. What greeted her sight was a sea of white—white lanterns, white streamers, white mourning clothes—so blinding to the eyes that it seemed unbearable.

Greeting Song Ci and her party was the legitimate son from the Fan Family’s second branch, known as Master Fan Er, and his wife, Mrs. Fan Cheng. Both of them knelt to welcome the mourners arriving to pay their respects.

Madam Song and Madam Jiang also approached, following behind Song Ci to enter the mansion together.

Madam Fan had passed away, and many mourners came to pay their respects, among them many of high status. For figures like Song Ci, who were of the same caliber as Madam Fan, others could only nod as a gesture of acknowledgment.

Song Ci recognized many familiar faces, but the occasion was not suitable for small talk. They merely exchanged nods as a form of greeting, with hardly any smiles.

”Mother, take this handkerchief; it’s soaked in ginger juice,” Madam Jiang whispered as she discreetly handed a handkerchief to Song Ci.

Song Ci twitched the corner of her mouth, glanced at the white handkerchief in her hand, and thought, ”Ah yes, the ginger juice-soaked handkerchief appears again.” She wiped lightly, causing tears to fall like a torrential downpour—a necessary tool for dramatic mourning.

But did Song Ci need it?

She was a professional actress after all; for a crying scene, she hardly needed such a tool, risking making her eyes burning and inflamed.

”No need.” Song Ci handed it back.

Jiang: ”...”

Well, after all, her mother-in-law was older and seeing this scene might evoke sympathy and tears easily.

Unaware of her daughter-in-law’s musings, Song Ci followed the guide chanting the funeral rites and made her way to the second door, then proceeded to the memorial hall.

”Hearing the chanting, there must be at least a hundred monks and Taoists invited for the prayers,” Madam Song whispered.

When Song Ci and her party reached the memorial hall, filial sons and clever grandsons knelt to welcome the mourners into the hall to pay their respects.

Entering the hall, it was still a full display of white, with smoke filling the air, the smell of burning paper money, and the wails of filial sons and grandsons.

In life, Madam Fan had the honor of being with five generations. Now resting in peace, the memorial hall was filled with kneeling filial descendants weeping, the decibel reaching levels as if a megaphone were blasting directly against the eardrum.

From the moment Song Ci stepped into the memorial hall, she had arranged her facial expression, her eyes slightly red, displaying a facade of restraining sorrow.

An usher announced the name and identity of the mourner, then led Song Ci and her group to the offering hall, personally lighting three incense sticks and handing them to Song Ci to worship and bow before the spirit tablet.

Song Ci did not need to kowtow, but Madam Song and Madam Jiang, as the younger generation, knelt and bowed, then offered incense.

Pinching the incense stick, she inserted it into the incense burner already brimming with sticks. All were high-grade sandalwood, yet Song Ci found the fragrance overwhelmingly pungent, nauseating her and causing dizziness.

Before the deceased’s spirit, she dared not complain, only silently wishing the old lady a peaceful journey and her soul’s return to Heaven.

”Please, mourners, view the remains.”

Song Ci’s body tensed. Was there such a tradition?