Chapter 42

On New Year's Eve, almost all organizations were on holiday. Places like crematoriums had long since extinguished their furnaces. Hu Baoguo, through a mix of pleading and intimidation, and by leveraging his connections with old leaders in the province, finally managed to get the crematorium to agree to light the furnace one more time.

By the time the cremation was complete and they returned to the Hu family home, the New Year's bell had already rung. Qin Feng, holding his master's urn, sat dazed in the room Hu Baoguo had arranged for him. This morning, his master was still a living person, and now he had become a box of ashes. This was the first time Qin Feng had truly faced such a parting of life and death.

"Xiaofeng, let's enshrine the old man. We'll wait seven days, and then I'll bury him at the most prominent spot in the Hu family cemetery. I won't let the old man suffer any injustice."

Hu Baoguo, holding a bowl of dumplings, lifted the curtain and entered the room. After a whole day of busy work, even he felt almost unable to hold on, let alone Qin Feng, who was only fifteen or sixteen. But with everything finally settled, Hu Baoguo felt a sense of relief.

"Brother Hu, I have one more request!"

Qin Feng's gaze shifted from the urn to Hu Baoguo, and he said, "Master rarely mentioned his identity to others, but I know he wanted to be buried in the Qing Tombs. I want to fulfill this wish for him!"

Qin Feng had lived with Zai Shi for over three years and had once heard him mention that his contemporary emperor, Guangxu, also known as Aisin Gioro Zaitian, had left a plot of land between the Western Qing Tombs and the Hualong Imperial Cemetery for the Zai generation of the imperial family. People like Prince Chun, Zai Feng, were buried there.

Although Zai Shi never explicitly said it, Qin Feng could see that his master still wanted to return to his ancestral roots. However, since he had long been separated from the Aisin Gioro clan, he knew this wish was hard to fulfill. He only expressed this sentiment in private moments of melancholy.

"Buried in the Qing Tombs? Qin Feng, are you joking with me, Old Hu?"

Upon hearing Qin Feng's words, Hu Baoguo almost dropped the bowl of dumplings in his hand. "What era are we in now? The Qing Dynasty has long been over. Apart from the last emperor, who was specially approved by the Premier, who else can be buried there? I don't have that kind of power!"

After the fall of the Qing Dynasty, whether it was the Beiyang Government, the Nationalist Government, or the current regime, all have been working to reduce the influence of the imperial era on the country. Even the last emperor was not initially buried in the imperial tombs but in Babaoshan. It was only later, due to the Premier's intervention, that he was moved to the imperial tombs, making him the last emperor of the Qing Dynasty to be buried there. Since then, no one else has been buried in the imperial tombs.

The Hu family, while considered a prominent household in Shijiazhuang, had not produced any officials higher than Hu Baoguo, the director of the juvenile detention center, in the past few decades. As a full-time official at the county level, how much influence could he have?

"Brother Hu, I'm not saying I want to bury Master in the imperial tombs, but in a plot of land next to the imperial tombs, which belongs to the Qing court..." Seeing Hu Baoguo's misunderstanding, Qin Feng quickly explained. He wanted to help his master fulfill his wish to return to his ancestral roots.

Hu Baoguo shook his head repeatedly. "This... Xiaofeng, even for that kind of tomb, not just anyone can be buried there. The old man has been separated from the Aisin Gioro clan for seventy or eighty years. We don't even know if his name is still in the clan records. Who would believe you just by talking?"

As a member of the last imperial dynasty, the Aisin Gioro clan received a certain level of attention from the state. A funeral committee would be established for any deceased member. Even if Zai Shi were still alive, verifying his identity would require a lot of procedures, let alone now that he had been reduced to ashes.

"Brother Hu, Master left a notebook that can prove his identity. I'll handle this matter, but I need to temporarily store Master's ashes at your place. Is that okay?"

The tradition of the Eight Outer Gates was passed down orally, and the old man did not break this tradition. However, in the last few years of his life, he wrote many memoirs, including many things about the Aisin Gioro clan that outsiders did not know. These memoirs would be very useful in proving Zai Shi's identity.

"Kid, why don't you just let the old man rest in peace? Why do you have to make things so complicated?"

Hu Baoguo glared at Qin Feng, annoyed. He couldn't do it, and this young man, still in detention, was talking big.

"Brother Hu, this is the only wish Master had. I must help him fulfill it!"

Qin Feng looked straight at Hu Baoguo with determination, refusing to back down. He knew that Master's desire to be buried in the Qing court was not because of his status as a member of the Qing imperial family, but purely out of an old man's wish to return to his roots. As a disciple, Qin Feng felt it was his responsibility to fulfill this wish.

"Alright, you are the old man's direct disciple, so you can make this decision."

Seeing Qin Feng's determined gaze, Hu Baoguo sighed and agreed. He put down the bowl of dumplings, then respectfully placed Zai Shi's urn on the table. "Eat something. Tomorrow, I'll try to get your sentence reduced by the last two months."

"Brother Hu, no need. It's just two months. I can wait."

Qin Feng shook his head. With his current abilities, a small prison could not confine him. He stayed here for two reasons: one, his master was here, and two, Qin Feng wanted to hone his character, as his master often said, only those who can endure loneliness can achieve great things.

Another reason was that in the juvenile detention center, Qin Feng could learn a lot from others. Despite the fact that the detainees were all young offenders, none of them were simple. There was a twelve-year-old pickpocket who had stolen from Northeast China to Southern Jiangsu without a single failure. That kind of experience was exactly what Qin Feng lacked.

Zai Shi often told Qin Feng that if he were sent to an adult prison, he would learn even more. That place was truly a gathering of "elites," from high-ranking officials and scholars to common laborers, all aspects of human life were represented there.

Now, Qin Feng had a broader perspective. Whether it was thievery or deception, there was no inherent good or bad; it all depended on how it was used. Just like a simple kitchen knife, in the hands of a chef, it was a tool, but in the hands of a criminal, it was a weapon. The key was in the individual's choice.

After seeing Hu Baoguo off, Qin Feng ate the bowl of dumplings that had already cooled. Looking at the urn on the table, he couldn't fall asleep. Too much had happened that day, and his brain remained in a highly excited state.

"Hmm? What is this?"

Qin Feng's gaze returned, and he suddenly noticed something in his mind that did not belong to his own memories. As his attention shifted from the urn to his mind, a vast and complex stream of information instantly overwhelmed his thoughts.