“Name?” “Lidi” “Okay, thank you for the condolence.
You must have been close to the deceased, since you were the first to arrive.” “…Sort of…” After passing the recipient, Lidi entered the tall white tent.
Inside, just as the recipient said, besides Kang Ze’s wife and his son with swollen red eyes from crying, who were already there.
He is the first to arrive.
He had planned to come back tomorrow, but burdened by the unresolved troubles in his mind, he just wanted to distract himself.
Beastman funerals are actually quite simple.
There’s a three-day memorial service before burial, a final period for the deceased to see all their relatives and friends.
After three days pass, the burial ceremony takes place, a return of everything to the earth.
Of course, different religions have different rituals; some involve cremation, some chanting and praying, some fasting, and some singing.
But the three-day memorial service and the final burial are common to all religions.
Lidi didn’t delve too deeply into this shared reason, only knowing that every beastman’s ultimate destiny was to return to the earth, regardless of form.
Kang Ze was a devout follower of the Father of All Beasts, so his funeral was the simplest and most primitive of all.
There were no elaborate performances, no chanting groups, no burning of joss paper, only a simple buffet and a place to say goodbye.
The white tent was located in rented space for a funeral home, near a cemetery, which was where Kang Ze would be going in three days later.
The white tent was very large, capable of accommodating hundreds of people.
It also had state-of-the-art temperature control, ensuring it wasn’t stuffy at all.
However, in this large and almost empty tent, the air blowing from the temperature control felt cold.
In the center of the tent is an open coffin.
Lidi walked over, first circling the coffin clockwise before stepping in directly in front of it.
This is the respect everyone must show when visiting the deceased for their final moments, indicating their request to enter their eternal resting place.
Looking at Kang Ze in the coffin, his appearance was pale and thin compared to that night at the reunion.
He must have suffered from the Sudadi flu for a period of time before he died, unable to eat properly.
He thought he would have something to say to him, but apart from the phone number on the black card and those lingering voices, he couldn’t think of a single word.
He simply took one last silent look at him before approaching Kang Ze’s wife to greet her.
“…Who are you?” she asked, seeing Lidi approaching.
It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t recognize him; they had never actually met.
The only time they had met was at their wedding banquet, during the toasting ceremony.
“Lidi, Kang Ze’s high school classmate.” Lu was considered a great beauty among the canines, possessing Afghan Hound blood.
With her long, flowing blond hair and perfectly proportioned nose and face, even himself, a fox, found her beautiful.
“Ah…you must be that programmer friend he always mentions.” Even her tired expression couldn’t hide her beauty.
“Thank you for coming.” She nodded slightly in gratitude.
Lidi scratched his head awkwardly.
It is 8 PM, about five hours after Lu’s message.
Although Lidi had spent extra time preparing, driving from Huashan City to Keelung City, which took him about an hour to arrive.
But he was the first to arrive.
What about his classmates who lived in this city?
He knew at least five of his former classmates lived in Keelung City.
Even on a weekday, they would have long since got off work by this time.
The first day of a memorial service is always attended by family and closest friends.
Kang Ze’s only family was his parents, but they had both passed away, so there is nothing more to say about it.
Now the fact that the tent remained deserted and empty spoke volumes.
“It’s to be expected…
but I didn’t expect it…” He glanced around and said unconsciously.
“Just me.” Only then did Lidi realize he’d blurted out his true thoughts.
An awkward silence fell between him and Lu.
Lu didn’t seem to care, offering only a faint smile.
The smile was weak and weary.
“Actually, I did think it would be like this.” This answer startled Lidi.
“Don’t you find it strange?” “Strange,” she nodded, “but not unexpected.” She stroked her son, who sat beside her, comforting him, speaking calmly.
“He’s always so glamorous, so generous with his treats, it seems like he has everything.
But precisely because of that, people are even less inclined to see him.” Lidi frowned, questioning.
“That shouldn’t be the case, we’re classmates after all…” Lu sighed softly and respond.
“Kang Ze is a carnivorous beastman.
What did you think was his secret to his success?” Lidi didn’t speak, because he knew what Lu meant.
“The business partners he deals with most often are herbivorous beastmen.
To do business with them, he inevitably needs to package himself and blend in.
For us carnivorous beastmen, this is equivalent to abandoning our identity.” Lidi understood that this was a small, insignificant pride of the carnivorous beastmen—a refusal to associate with herbivorous beastmen.
But precisely because of this, carnivorous beastmen are often targeted by herbivorous beastmen; it takes two to tango.
“Even so, hasn’t he been treating everyone to meals, and everyone still attends?” She looked up at Lidi and explained.
“You think that’s because of good relationships?
For them, it’s just free meals.” Hearing this, Lidi unconsciously touched his nose; this seemed to be directed at him as well.
Lu wasn’t looking at him, but continued calmly.
“He actually knew everything.
Who was sincere, and who was just there to take advantage.
He saw it all very clearly.” Lidi asked, somewhat surprised.
“Then why did he…” “Continue to treat?” Lu picked up where he left off.
She smiled.
This time, with a hint of bitterness.
“Because that was the only way he could maintain ‘relationships.’ “If he didn’t treat, no one would come to him.” The air fell silent again.
Lidi stood there, suddenly unsure what to say.
He had once thought Kang Ze was the kind of person who “had everything.” But now he realized that he seemed to be just someone struggling with life, just like himself.
“So I’m really grateful that you came.
At least he wasn’t alone at his last moment.” Lidi was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
“…Yes.” He looked at the coffin in the center and said softly.
“He was actually… quite respectable.” These words came a little late.
But at least, they weren’t hypocritical.