Chapter 214

Tragedy master Euripides said: "a grand funeral is just a kind of vanity of the living."

This is the opening sentence of Feng Fugui's will.

He told Lu Wen that he had already written his will on the day he joined the profession.

In fact, many executives have a thin page of wills under their pillows or in their bookcases.

Feng Fugui's home is not in the urban area. It's an old house in the suburb, so he has a rest in the executive board most of the time.

Although Du Changqing is hypocritical, he has made a good start for the executive board.

After he left, many executive officers of the executive board had the habit of donating money.

Feng Fugui, too, donated to a children's welfare home.

[cremation, try not to waste land resources]

[simple funeral]

[all relics are sold or donated directly]

[please keep this old house for me]

[ 】

the death of a third level executive can cause quite a stir.

His funeral can last for a long time. Friends and colleagues who have known him for decades will come to his tombstone and tell us that they miss him.

Lu Wen is sitting in the living room of the old house.

The old sofa was covered with grey cloth, the TV was covered with dust, the sun was shining through the wooden windows, and the fine particles floated in the light.

On the tea table in the living room is a tape player that was used decades ago.

There is a tape in it.

Lu Wen presses the play button.

The tape rotates slowly.

Nostalgic music reverberated in the empty living room.

It's the old executive's favorite fool's Wharf, an old love song.

Feng Fugui's ancestors lived by the sea, generations of fishermen.

People who live by the sea have some feelings for the sea. Even if they leave later, they will often miss those stormy days, when the boats fluctuate in the rough waves and the fishermen return with a full load.

The old executive had no relatives and had been married, but soon his wife died in the car accident because of the criminal's revenge.

Lu Wen got up slowly and put down his will.

He came to the gate.

Let's leave the old house as it is.

The wooden door closed slowly.

Then he drove to a welfare home.

According to Feng Fugui's habit, he would go to the welfare home every once in a while with some snacks, candy or toys.

When other people reach his age, they are already surrounded by children and grandchildren. But he has been living alone for a long time. Maybe the old man also wants to experience that feeling.

Lu Wen told the president the truth, and then according to the contents of his will, he donated the rest of Feng Fugui's property to the welfare home.

Some children wonder why it's not grandfather Feng who's here today.

"The funeral begins. When are you coming?"

It's Vivian calling.

"Right away."

Lu Wen hung up.

It's not going to be easy.

Outside the public cemetery, countless fans of wandering poets, like pilgrims, looked sad and dressed in black, surrounded the cemetery.

They finally agreed with Feng Fugui.

The influence of vagrant poets must be eliminated, otherwise the city of Mowu will gradually take another road. The city does not need law enforcers in the dark.

Rudd came to the outermost part of the cemetery.

"It's Lu Wen. He's here, too." There was a whisper in the crowd.

"What did the report say? The poet was shot by the criminal with a shotgun, and finally repented in the fire? Is it Lu Wen who laid hands on him? " Someone asked.

Lu did not give the image at that time.

So people are very curious about what happened in the fire last night.

"It's impossible. Lu Wen has a very good relationship with Mr. Feng. There is also Mr. Wei of the 10th District. During this time, I often see the three of them eat together."

The crowd has seriously hindered the traffic around the cemetery.

There are people from other regions who are coming to say goodbye to this legendary wandering poet.

Feng Fugui's body has been cremated overnight.

After a lifetime, there was only a small black box left.

The crowd made way for Lu Wen.

The funeral was presided over by a second level executive officer of the executive board. According to Feng Fugui's last wish, everything was simple. The people of the executive board sat around and listened to him finish his eulogy.

Wei Boan was sitting in the front. In fact, he was the one who should preside over the funeral, but he didn't.

Lu Wen can't see any emotion from his face. The middle-aged man has been calm since last night.

"It has been 36 years since Mr. Feng joined the executive board at the age of 22. He has seen a lot of the dark side of the world. His parents were killed by criminals and his wife died in a car accident. Later, it was found out that the criminals who had just been released from prison were responsible for it. The world owes him too much. Maybe he was worried that he would no longer be able to uphold justice after retirement. He chose to incarnate as the guardian of the night ……”

People in this world hold the idea that the dead are the greatest.No matter how many things the wandering poet did before he died, he is dead now.

With a lifetime of glory and abuse, always sleeping in the dark underground.

The funeral will be over soon.

People who come to mourn come forward one by one, offering flowers or thanks, and some people will scold.

Lu Wen and Wei Boan left the scene early.

It's over. There are other things waiting for them.

"Mr. Lu, Mr. Wei..."

One lunch is still a big food stall by the sea.

They sat opposite each other.

"What are your plans for the future?" Lu Wen looks at Wei Boan.