Zhao Hanzhang was dressed in mourning attire. She adjusted Zhao Erlang's collar, handed the memorial tablet to him, and asked softly, "Today, you will be the one smashing the basin and breaking the banner. Do you remember everything Uncle Cheng taught you?"
As long as it's not about reading or recognizing characters, things that are straightforward, Zhao Erlang remembers them after hearing several times. Moreover, he's practiced many times before, so he nodded confidently.
Zhao Hanzhang smiled at him with comfort, said softly, "I'll be right by your side, don't be afraid!"
Zhao Erlang nodded firmly, feeling even more confident.
As the time came, there was a loud bang from a firecracker at the front, and the relative presiding over the funeral shouted to the sky, "Rise—spirit—"
Zhao Hanzhang pushed Zhao Erlang, who stepped forward, picked up the fire basin, and smashed it. Immediately, cries emerged both inside and outside the hall.
