What unforgettable things have you experienced in the first seven days of your loved ones?

It was my uncle's first seven days. On the first night, a group of people gathered in front of the mourning hall to play mahjong, and the noise came and went. I heard from my father that it was a custom, but I felt very uncomfortable. Later, when I came out of the bathroom, no one played mahjong in front of the mourning hall, but there was a round table in front of the door, surrounded by several people. I saw my parents there, too, so I went there. A pamphlet is circulating among adults, as if the late uncle remembered some trivial things. My cousin's eyes are red, and there are still a few tears hanging from her eyes. I picked up the pamphlet and read it while the adults were talking. Most pamphlets are about daily life. The only interesting things about what we ate and what happened today are just a few operas that we randomly remember. I was bored and flipped through it. I just wanted to put it down, but I saw a few lines. The farmer's unique big and thick handwriting reads: "I think I have never wronged my children in my life, helped them buy a house and set up an industry, but I ended up alone." Seeing them occasionally, although I don't say it, I really hate me in my heart. The only time I contacted me was for the property. Maybe I owe them in my last life, and I should pay them back in this life. "After reading it, I was stunned for a long time, and finally quietly put down the brochure. I see my uncle's two sons are suffocating their eyes, but don't you think it's too late now? On the seventh day, according to the custom of my hometown, a banquet was held. I sat in a small corner, wondering why these so-called relatives were so happy to eat and drink at the banquet of the deceased. Some men even rushed to punch and drink, just like playing mahjong the other night, howling for winning or losing. People keep giving me food and smiles. I don't know why they are so happy When I left, a hill piled up in the bowl. I thought I could finally go home, but my parents were left behind by my cousin's wife before I left. Because, property. They don't even have time to go home. On the sofa in the hotel lobby, several people sat together, arguing endlessly and sighing one by one. The more I listen, the more chilling I get. Finally, I got up and went out. I really don't understand what happened to me in those days. My sons are indifferent to their father. The only connection between them seems to be money. Relatives can play mahjong unscrupulously in front of the mourning hall where the bodies are placed, and they can eat Haisai with laughter at the banquet. Even before the bones were cold, the children began to quarrel about property. I really don't understand, but I think that uncle, even on the way to death, must have a sad face.