On the way to the destination, there were two distinguished guests in the car;
On the way back, the car carried two distinguished urns.
Although the funeral was somewhat simple, or even a bit hasty, the sky seemed to show some respect as it started to rain on their way back from the cremation, adding a touch of farewell atmosphere for both Lazarus and Mr. Mossan.
Looking at the urns in front of him, Orpheus thought to himself, those urns in the basement are definitely not suitable for pickling vegetables!
Freshly cremated ashes are still hot.
Therefore, sometimes to save time, the family would use the urns from the basement to hold the ashes temporarily, then transfer them to urns with the family company's label once they returned.
Lazarus's urn would need to go through the final procedure to be placed in the welfare section of the cemetery. As for Mr. Mossan, none of his children were willing to take on the responsibility of his urn.
A regular cemetery plot, even for cremation, is not cheap. So, they'd rather spend extra money to ask the Inmerales family to pull some strings so their father could "hitch a ride" on a welfare benefit.
So, essentially,
Lazarus borrowed Mr. Mossan's funeral for a bit,
And Mr. Mossan
would be sharing Lazarus's welfare spot.
If nothing unexpected happens, after the urns are placed in the welfare cemetery, their urns will likely end up in two adjacent slots.
Not bad at all,
If they get lonely,
They could bang their skulls against the wall to chat.
Orpheus was still pondering the cost of the urns that Old Darcy had mentioned earlier. Curiously, he asked his uncle Mason, who was driving:
"Uncle, what's the profit margin on our coffins?"
"For ordinary coffins, it's about a 100% profit margin, but for customized or specially designed ones, the profit can be up to two to three times that.
People who were respectable in life, like government officials, tend to choose solemn and understated designs.
Those with noble titles and solid family backgrounds prefer to order luxurious coffins according to their family traditions, often with their family crest engraved on them.
As for the nouveau riche, it's simpler. They love anything extravagant and gold-plated.
By the way, we have a catalog at home with over two hundred styles of coffins. If you're interested, you can take a look when we get back.
Oh, the prices in the catalog are usually five times the cost price. When we sell to clients, we 'offer a discount.'"
Calculating the margins,
Orpheus thought,
That's not too bad. At least it's not as outrageous as the urns at Hughes Crematorium, where a product costing under 50 could be sold for 1000, with a profit margin of twenty times!
Coincidentally,
Mason uncle continued, bringing up the previous example:
"Don't be fooled by our profit margins not being as high as those urns from Hughes Crematorium. But even if they make that much per urn, how much can they sell one for?
The most basic coffin we sell is priced at 10,000 Luby.
Also, we cater to different clientele. For us, the ones going for cremation at the end are mostly... um, low-quality clients. But for Hughes, they are their main client base.
They cremate bodies every day, but in a month, just three regular sales for us can match their monthly profits.
Of course, people like Mr. Mossan aren't our typical clients."
"Have you ever considered expanding, uncle?" Orpheus asked.
Mason shook his head and replied, "I failed an investment, used leverage—do you know what leverage is?"
"Yes."
"Good, then you know. I'm sorry to tell you, my poor nephew, but your grandpa's money, which is the inheritance you'll receive one day, has shrunk significantly because of your unreliable uncle."
After a pause,
Mason added:
"Don't be mad at your uncle."
According to the traditions of the Swaylan Kingdom, it is typically the eldest son who inherits the family business, while the younger ones are expected to go out and make their way.
So, as the eldest grandson, Orpheus was expected to be the future head of the funeral home, whereas Mason would only get a share of the profits or some equity, without decision-making power.
"I don't blame you, uncle."
In the memories of the previous "Orpheus," he had always had a good impression of his uncle.
After half a month of interaction, Orpheus had discovered that although Mason was lazy, talkative, and greedy, these flaws were common in ordinary people.
What mattered most was Mason's attitude towards life, family, and money.
The one most eager to make a comeback was actually him. Once engaged in finance in the big city, now relegated to driving a hearse, it was clear he didn't enjoy his current situation.
And when Orpheus had asked whether to put the nearly 20,000 Luby "consultation fee" into the company's account, Mason had refused without hesitation, showing he wasn't the type to take money from his nephew.
Currently, those entitled to a share of the profits in the family business included Mason, his wife, grandpa, and Aunt Winnie. If the 20,000 Luby went into the company's account, Mason and his wife would get half of it next month.
After all, earning this money hadn't required any significant operational costs... except for the 1,000 Luby Orpheus had given to Old Darcy, the only real cost was a bit of saliva.
"By the way, Orpheus, next time we have business, you try to handle the clients yourself. We'll see how you do. If you do well, you can officially join the company as a family member and enjoy a share of the profits."
"Okay, uncle."
Working for the Inmerales,
No,
Serving Dis,
Is my honor.
"Also, about expanding, I don't think we need to at the moment. Even if we got a loan from the bank, we wouldn't be able to compete with the big chains in terms of scale.
So, I think we should focus on improving our service quality and look for new profit opportunities, like what you're doing."
"Couldn't grandpa handle this role?" Orpheus asked.
Grandpa was a priest.
Mason replied nonchalantly, "Oh, who would tell the truth to God?"
Just then,
The car hit a puddle, causing a significant jolt.
The car was fine, but the two urns in the back clanked against each other. Fortunately, they weren't damaged.
Mason glanced back,
and said:
"When I die, I don't want a funeral at all. Forget a coffin, I don't even want Mina and Lunt to get me an urn."
"Hmm? You've come to terms with it that much, uncle?"
"After seeing enough of these things, you start to think they're pointless. When I'm old, as long as Mina and Lunt treat me well, I wouldn't mind them putting my ashes in a black plastic bag from the fish market after I die."
"And where would your ashes go then?" Orpheus asked.
"That's easy. Find a large flowerpot, put me in it, add some soil, plant something on top, and put it in the garden.
When you're home, water me a bit. When you're not home, I'll just watch over the house for you."
At this point,
Ron, who had dozed off again, was woken by the jolt. Hearing this conversation, he asked curiously:
"Mr. Mason, Master Orpheus, are you discussing such a heavy topic?"
"Ron, how do you plan for your funeral?"
Mason, holding the steering wheel with one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other, asked casually.
"Ha! I'm planning to spend my last Luby before I die."
"What about your family?" Orpheus asked.
"I'm planning to ask out that nurse from the nursing home tomorrow after work. If she doesn't end up with me, I guess I won't have a family or kids in the future."
"And what about your arrangements afterward?"
"Arrangements?" Ron patted his belly, "Simple. I heard Rodja Medical College accepts body donations from the public, and they call the donated bodies… what do they call them?"
Orpheus replied, "Cadaver teachers."
"Yes, yes, Orpheus, you know so much more than me. Ha! Before I die, I'll sign an agreement to donate myself to be a cadaver teacher."
Mason flicked the ashes from his cigarette and laughed, "Didn't expect that from you, Ron. My opinion of you just went up."
"Well, well…" Ron scratched his head, "I was never good at studying. I couldn't absorb anything from books, and I dropped out early to find work. But I know that anyone who can get into Rodja Medical College must be very good at studying.
I just think that one day, my dumb head, as a cadaver teacher, will have all those smart students standing around me, bowing and calling me 'teacher.' What a delightful and satisfying scene
that would be!"
"Hahahaha." Mason laughed heartily.
Orpheus couldn't help but laugh too but still reminded, "Then you need to lose weight, Ron."
"Lose weight?" Ron asked in surprise, "Is there a size requirement for cadaver teachers?"
"Not really, but did you know, when they cut open your belly, your fat would pile up in layers. Then those students might be disgustedly cutting through your fat while cursing,
'Oh my God, why is my cadaver teacher a fat corpse!'"
Ron straightened up immediately and said, "That sounds terrifying!"
Then,
He fell into deep thought about his own afterlife arrangements.
Mason, curious, asked, "Orpheus, how do you know all this?"
"Aunt Mary told me. You know, sometimes when she deals with particularly tragic deaths, she can't help but complain at the dinner table."
Mason nodded in agreement and said, "Yes, her temper is getting worse."
Then,
Mason sighed,
flicked the ashes again,
and said:
"It's all my fault."
...
When they returned home, it was already nine in the evening. After placing the urns in the basement, the day's work was done.
Dinner was still waiting, with mashed potatoes, smoked meat, and a vegetable salad.
After washing his hands, Orpheus saw the dinner spread and, honestly, felt a bit disappointed. Especially since he had been out all day and came back later than usual, hungrier than usual, he had hoped for a more satisfying meal.
But...
Next time, I'll cook myself.
"Darling, I've opened a can of herring for you."
Hearing "herring," Mason's face lit up as he opened his arms, smiling, and kissed Aunt Mary several times in front of Orpheus:
"This is a perfect dinner. I love it, and I love you for preparing it for me, darling."
Two days ago, Mason had said while sitting in the car that the meat pies Mary made were one of the two foods he loved.
The other one, referring to a bathroom trip delicacy, was the "herring."
Orpheus blinked, suddenly having a bad feeling.
"Pop!"
The can hissed as it opened, emitting a muffled sound.
Immediately,
A rotten, meaty stench filled the air.
Orpheus's stomach cramped up instantly, the feeling rising to his throat, but he managed to suppress it.
Compared to this, stinky tofu seemed like a fragrant little cutie!
Mason picked up a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed, showing a blissful expression.
Then,
Without asking Orpheus,
He picked up another piece and placed it on Orpheus's mashed potatoes:
"Eat, Orpheus, in this house, you and I have always been the most devout fans—no, followers of herring!"
Orpheus held his breath, looking at Mason. Mason picked up another piece and said:
"Come on, let's toast to our faith!"
Then,
He put another piece into his mouth and chewed it with great enjoyment.
Orpheus looked troubled,
but,
The previous "Orpheus" loved this stuff.
Besides,
As someone who used to enjoy stinky tofu in his previous life, Orpheus guessed that this might be the same—smells bad, but tastes good?
Gathering his courage,
Orpheus picked up the piece,
and put it in his mouth.
In that instant,
Wow~
Orpheus's eyes widened,
He couldn't even swallow it; he grabbed a napkin and spat it all out, then immediately left the table and headed for the washroom, vomiting.
At the table,
Mason, still sitting, and Mary, standing, looked a bit stunned.
"What's wrong with him?" Aunt Mary asked, puzzled.
Mason guessed, "Maybe he caught a cold, the car was drafty, and it rained?"
"I'll get him some medicine."
...
After vomiting,
Orpheus was panting helplessly.
He turned and saw Purr standing at the bathroom door, staring at him. And from the cat's expression, Orpheus had a feeling it was laughing at him.
"Are you laughing at me?"
Purr's expression didn't change, but its tail swayed.
At that moment, Aunt Mary's voice came from outside: "Orpheus, are you cold? I brought you some medicine."
"Okay, Aunt, I'll come out to eat in a minute."
"And your dinner..."
No,
That damned dinner,
Orpheus didn't want to return to that table, or even the second floor at this point!
The whole second floor must be filled with the smell of herring by now.
"Lunt has a lot of snacks. I'll just have some of those. My stomach isn't feeling well, so I shouldn't eat too much."
"Okay, but take care of yourself. If you're still unwell tomorrow morning, I'll take you to the clinic."
"Thank you, Aunt."
Aunt Mary turned and left,
And faintly,
Orpheus heard her scolding his cousin Lunt:
"Lunt, your teeth are already so bad, and you still dare to hide snacks? If you don't want your teeth, I'll tear your mouth off right now!"
Inside the bathroom, Orpheus felt sorry for his cousin, filled with guilt. Then he comfortably took a shower.
After the shower, Orpheus dried his hair with a towel as he walked back to his bedroom.
On his desk were milk, bread, a water cup, and some medicine.
Lunt was sitting on the floor, organizing a box that had been under the bed. Hearing Orpheus enter, he turned around and looked at Orpheus with a pitiful expression:
"Brother, Mom took away all the candy and chocolate I hid."
His cousin's face showed no resentment, nor did he blame Orpheus. He just seemed a bit helpless.
"I should've known better and not saved them, eating only one a night. I should've just eaten them all at once."
"Heh."
Orpheus chuckled, took out 1,000 Luby from his pocket, hesitated, then pulled out only three bills, handing them to Lunt.
"Take it and buy some candy. If you run out, come to me."
Lunt didn't take the money. Instead, he shook his head and said, "I can't spend Brother's money."
"Isn't it normal for a brother to spend money on his sibling?"
"No, Mom said we should take care of you because you don't have…" Lunt quickly changed his words, "I do have some pocket money!"
Including Orpheus, there were four children in the family.
In theory, each child received the same amount of monthly pocket money, which was part of the family's communal expenses.
But because the other cousins had parents, their pocket money was managed by Aunt Mary and Aunt Winnie, leaving them with very little in hand.
Orpheus, on the other hand, had no parents, and the elders didn't want to "manage" his money for him, so he received his full allowance every month, which is why he could save up to 6,000 Luby.
"Brush your teeth well and control your candy intake. It'll be fine."
Orpheus still placed the 300 Luby on Lunt's bed and noticed that there were quite a few books and notebooks on it, likely dug out during Aunt Mary's "search," as they had been under the bed.
One notebook had a white rose on the cover, but someone had deliberately colored it red with a pen.
Orpheus casually opened it,
On the first page was a drawing of three people, two adults and a child. Although crudely drawn, it was clear that the left was the father, the right was the mother, and the middle was the child.
The middle child was a boy, as he didn't have long hair like the mother to indicate he was female.
"You draw pretty well," Orpheus said to Lunt.
"Brother, that's not my notebook."
"Not yours?"
In this room, if it wasn't Lunt's, then it could only be… "Orpheus's."
Orpheus thought for a moment, but he couldn't recall this notebook from his memory.
But that made sense. Judging by the paper's condition, it was quite old.
Although he inherited "Orpheus's" memories, some things, if "Orpheus" had forgotten, he wouldn't remember either.
"Lunt, go brush your teeth and get ready for bed!"
Aunt Mary's voice called from the staircase.
Thank goodness the Inmerales lived in a detached house. If they were in an apartment, Aunt Mary's voice would surely draw complaints from the neighbors.
"Coming, Mom."
Lunt ran out of the room.
Orpheus sat on Lunt's spring bed and continued flipping through the notebook.
The second page was similar to the first, still a couple and a child in between.
The third page was the same.
Orpheus was losing interest, but when he turned to the fourth page, he frowned slightly.
The fourth page was completely
filled in with black, leaving only a small circle of blank space in the center.
From a professional perspective, analyzing a child's drawing:
This picture indicated extreme insecurity in the child who drew it.
Black is often a protective color.
The way it was drawn felt like a child hiding under a blanket at night, leaving a small gap to peek out or breathe.
Of course, the feeling conveyed by this picture was even more severe.
Orpheus continued turning the pages. The following ones were similar, with a small circle of blank space in various positions—sometimes at the bottom, sometimes at the top, or off to the side.
Then,
Orpheus's hand paused.
In this drawing,
There was a man and a woman lying horizontally. From the previous style, they were likely "Dad" and "Mom."
Horizontal indicated lying down.
Because there was a figure drawn vertically, standing.
In the picture, the "Dad" and "Mom" lying down had black lines extending from their stomachs, and the space around them was filled with black scribbles.
Orpheus swallowed.
Those were wounds… and the black around them, was that blood spilling onto the ground?
The standing figure,
An adult figure not seen in previous drawings, held something in their hand.
Orpheus brought the notebook closer, scrutinizing the object. Often, one can only interpret children's drawings through guesswork.
"Is that a sword in his hand? But it's too short."
Suddenly,
A scene flashed in Orpheus's mind—when he was on his way back from the hospital and helped his grandfather clean the charred skin on his arm, he saw the hilt of a sword in a black box…
"Dis!"
"Yes."