"Come, come, Sun Thief—oh no, young man, have some tea."
The old man, looking no different from when he was alive except for his translucent body, said eagerly.
"Uh, no need, I don't like tea, thank you."
Looking at the murky tea in the cup, Liu Zheng kindly declined.
"Don't be shy. It's your first time here and you won't even take a sip of tea? That's just rude."
The old man urged.
"Alright, this tea looks moldy to me, I really can't drink it."
Having failed to politely refuse, he had no choice but to speak frankly.
"So disrespectful, and you still want to be my filial son or grandson?"
The old man's face turned gloomy, his translucent body quickly solidifying, and his once lively appearance began to rot and stink.
"It's not about disrespect; I'm just being honest. Plus, I never said I'd be your filial son or grandson; I simply agreed to mourn for you."
Liu Zheng shook his head and said.
"You won't even drink my tea, how can I expect you to handle my funeral?"
