Max Level Metaphysician: A Debt Repayment Journey…?
Chapter 860: Mr. Daqin

Chapter 860: Chapter 860: Mr. Daqin

Qin Yingjun could hardly believe his ears. His face turned even paler, and his legs began to tremble slightly. He paced in place and muttered, "How, how could this happen? Master Xia Xin, you must be trying to scare me, right?"

He looked at Xia Xin hopefully, hoping that Xia Xin would tell him that this was all fake.

Xia Xin looked serious, harboring some doubts himself. He would rather believe he was mistaken.

But...

No matter how many times he checked, the Lifefire on Qin Yingjun was still very weak.

None of this was fake.

Xia Xin found it difficult to speak.

Seeing Xia Xin’s silence, Qin Yingjun understood. He felt a chill throughout his body, unable to sense any warmth in the funeral home. He shivered as he mumbled, "How could this be? I haven’t gone anywhere in the past few days. Could it really be Wen Mao?"

He suddenly looked at Xia Xin, his eyes full of fear.

"Is it really Wen Mao? Could it be Wen Mao?"

Xia Xin scratched his head, "Well... I’m not sure. I haven’t seen Wen Mao around you... Moreover, logically, although Wen Mao died violently, he didn’t die at your hands. He shouldn’t be pestering you."

Hearing that it wasn’t Wen Mao, Qin Yingjun felt slightly relieved, but his face was still pale, "If it’s not Wen Mao... who could it be? I haven’t offended anyone, nor have I caused anyone’s death..."

"Mr. Qin, please don’t worry. I can’t be entirely sure. Maybe I’m mistaken. Don’t be afraid. Let’s go handle Wen Mao’s funeral first. Anyway, I’m with you today. If anything happens, I’m here... Don’t worry."

Even Xia Xin felt a bit uncertain about his own words.

However, Qin Yingjun trusted him unexpectedly. Hearing Xia Xin’s reassurance, he relaxed, "Yes, with Master Xia Xin here, what do I have to fear? Nothing will happen!"

He kept cheering himself up, trying to calm down. He swallowed hard and led Xia Xin to the hall they had reserved.

It was Wen Mao’s mourning hall.

Wen Mao had died young. According to local customs, a grand funeral was not appropriate. So only a few close relatives were informed.

There weren’t many people.

The large mourning hall appeared particularly empty.

Walking beside Qin Yingjun, Xia Xin heard a burst of crying. He looked up and saw several men and women gathered together.

One of the women, dressed in a black dress, was sitting on a chair, crying uncontrollably. Her eyes, nose, and cheeks were swollen.

She seemed about to faint from crying.

Beside her, two men and a woman were consoling her.

One of the men, who resembled Wen Mao, looked somewhat haggard, frequently sighing.

"Dad, Mom, Aunt and Uncle, the master from Jiaoyang Temple is here." Qin Yingjun led Xia Xin to the group and introduced them.

Xia Xin then understood their identities. He bowed slightly, "Hello, I am Xia Xin from Jiaoyang Temple."

Qin Yingjun’s father, Qin Yongfu, looked over, took out a handkerchief to wipe his glasses, put them back on, and extended his hand, "Hello, Master Xia Xin. I am Yingjun’s father. You can call me Qin Yongfu."

Xia Xin nodded, "Hello, Mr. Qin."

"Is this... really a master from Jiaoyang Temple?" The woman who had been crying nonstop hiccuped and looked at Xia Xin hesitantly.

He looked much younger than Wen Mao, hardly resembling any master she had imagined.