After her grandfather's death, Hu Tao, as the director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, tearfully arranged for the pallbearers to carry his coffin to Wuwang Hill. They buried him in the very grave she had dug with him. It was just the right size.
Looking at her grandfather lying in the coffin, Hu Tao, as both director and host of the funeral, tried to keep herself composed in front of the others. She let out a quiet sob and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.
She took one last look at her grandfather's body and gave the order:
"Seal the coffin—"
"Lower it into the earth—"
"Parting of life and death—"
Under her direction, her grandfather's coffin was buried at Wuwang Hill, the sacred ground of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and the place closest to the entrance of the underworld. This time, her usually careless grandfather wouldn't get lost, would he?
The burial was complete. The funeral was over.
In the eerie silence of Wuwang Hill, only Hu Tao remained by the grave. She gently scooped up a handful of soil and placed it on the mound. Then she sat beside the tombstone, just as she had leaned against her grandfather as a child. Her heart finally began to settle.
Slowly, she came to accept reality. Her grandfather was truly dead. She had hosted his funeral herself and buried him with her own hands.
Looking at his tombstone, she was reluctant to leave. She wondered if his soul might be nearby, somewhere in Wuwang Hill, about to enter the entrance to the underworld. So she called out a few times.
"Grandfather, are you there?"
"Grandfather, can you hear me?"
"Grandfather, can I see you one more time? I still have things to tell you."
She sobbed as she called out to the world around the grave. But no matter how she called, there was no answer. No spirit appeared.
With trembling hands, she touched the tombstone and whispered, "Grandfather, I won't let you be lonely. I'll come visit you again."
With that, she looked back every few steps as she slowly left Wuwang Hill.
Back at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, she looked at the empty courtyard, the lifeless hall, the piles of coffins. Sorrow flooded her heart. Unconsciously, tears streamed down her cheeks once more.
This thirteen-year-old girl had yet to adjust to life without her grandfather.
Having not slept for an entire day and night, she was exhausted. She curled up on the rug in the center of the hall—her grandfather's favorite spot—and reminisced about their time together. As she cried, her sobs grew softer, and the tired Hu Tao, who had been busy all day, finally fell asleep.
Even in her dreams, she murmured, "Grandfather, Grandfather..."
In her sleep, she dreamed of meeting him again. As she had when she was little, she threw herself into his arms and listened to him tell stories of ancient times—of Azhdaha battling gods, of a qilin maiden slaying great beasts. She had heard these tales many times as a child.
Not only did she listen to many stories, but she also spoke with her grandfather at length.
Time passed. Night fell. Hu Tao woke up.
"Grandfather—"
"Don't go—"
The moment she opened her eyes, she called out for him. But seeing the white silk around her, she understood. It had been a dream. Though she still remembered the scenes, the details of their conversation were already fading. She couldn't recall what they had said.
Hu Tao looked around at the white silk, the coffins, the darkness outside. Then, as if struck by an idea, she scrambled to search through her grandfather's ancient books.
Finally, she found a passage in one of the old texts: "Follow Wuwang Hill to its end, and you will reach the boundary between life and death, where the souls of the departed can be seen."
Her grandfather had said something similar when he was alive.
A glimmer of hope flickered in her sorrowful eyes. "Grandfather also said that at the end of Wuwang Hill, you can see the souls of the dead. Those who have unfinished business or regrets linger at the boundary. Grandfather must be there. Grandfather, wait for me."
She made her decision. Her gaze grew determined. She rose from the rug, dusted herself off, and wiped away her tears. She grabbed her school bag and packed enough dry rations and water for four or five days.
Just as she was about to leave, she paused, remembering something.
"Grandfather said that the deeper you go into Wuwang Hill, the more vicious the spirits become. There are even Hilichurls and Slimes deep inside. It would be dangerous for anyone."
Even adults would face danger in the depths of Wuwang Hill, let alone a young girl like Hu Tao. But she had made her choice, and she wouldn't regret it.
Gritting her teeth, she said, "Hu Tao is thirteen now. Hu Tao has grown up. Hu Tao won't disappoint Grandfather."
With that, she spotted her grandfather's favorite walking stick on the table—the one he always carried when conducting funerals. He had left it behind. She didn't hesitate. She reached out and took it.
The moment she grasped the crimson, flame-like stick, she felt a faint warmth emanating from it. She didn't know what it was, but she brought it with her without a second thought.
Under the cover of night, she didn't bother with the front gate. Instead, she climbed the courtyard wall as she always had, vaulted over, and landed outside with a soft thud.
She looked back at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, gripped her bag's straps tightly, and ran through the streets of Liyue toward Wuwang Hill.
The night was still bustling. The streets were bright with lanterns, filled with pedestrians and hawkers. But the noise had nothing to do with her.
Through the brightly lit streets, past the bridge, away from the crowds—her small, lonely figure pressed on. She had only one goal: the end of Wuwang Hill.