Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 32
>Chapter Title: Hu Family Ancestral Hall
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Chapter 32: Hu Family Ancestral Hall
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> People who could afford to hire an opera troupe to sing for ghosts were no ordinary folk. The Hu family was one of the biggest clans in Wuli Gang; nearly a third of the village shared the Hu surname.
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> Li Huowang had already learned from Lv Zhuangyuan that the one footing the bill was the wealthiest landlord in all of Wuli Gang—and the most senior in seniority—Hu Qinghe.
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> At the moment, he was accompanying Lv Zhuangyuan and the others as they hurried toward the Hu family ancestral hall.
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> “Master Hu said there’s nothing major to worry about. He’s hired other troupes in past years to sing ghost operas, and nothing’s ever gone wrong.”
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> Li Huowang shot him a glance, unsure whether those words were meant to reassure him or themselves.
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> He pressed a hand to the bells at his waist, feeling a bit steadier. Even if something did happen, it wouldn’t be an issue—with these, his heart was at ease.
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> Of course, the best outcome was no trouble at all. After all, summoning the Wandering Lord cost three months of lifespan each time.
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> As they walked along the village paths, they soon arrived at the Hu family ancestral hall, dotted with numerous red lanterns.
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> The place was packed. Li Huowang and the others couldn’t even squeeze inside. Peering over the layers of heads, he saw crowds of people burning incense and kowtowing before rows of black spirit tablets.
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> “That’s Master Hu. He also said to stick around after the show—he wants to treat us to a meal.”
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> Lv Zhuangyuan pointed at the old man in silk robes at the front of the kowtowing crowd.
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> As he spoke, those kowtowing rose and reverently lifted the ancestors’ black tablets down, placing them on the half-immortal tables prepared in advance.
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> There were many tablets and many tables, filling the spacious three-bay hall to the brim.
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> The tables before the tablets weren’t empty; they were laden with all sorts of delicacies.
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> Red candles, incense, gold ingots, yellow paper—all neatly arranged on platters serving the ancestors.
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> As if fearing any neglect, paper figures holding tea trays stood along the hall’s walls, likely to be placed beside the tables soon to wait on them.
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> “Hey, Master Hu sure is generous—personally hiring an opera troupe to sing for the ancestors.”
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> “Yeah, no wonder none of Master Hu’s branches have fallen ill or met disaster. That’s all thanks to the ancestors’ blessings.”
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> “Sigh, I wonder if I’ll have such fortune after I die.”
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> “That’ll depend on your descendants making a fortune like Master Hu. Hiring ghost opera costs a pretty penny.”
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> Hearing the Hu clansfolk and seeing the solemn scene before him, Li Huowang felt a bit more at ease. This didn’t look like a setup for trouble.
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> He leaned slightly toward Lv Zhuangyuan beside him. “Troupe Leader Lv, you’ve traveled far and wide for years—have you encountered more actual ghosts or more of those seal-seeking things?”
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> “Huh?! What do you mean? Aren’t they the same thing?” Lv Zhuangyuan’s eyes widened in shock.
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> “How could they be? One’s what people turn into after death, while the other...” Li Huowang trailed off, unsure how to explain.
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> But he was certain of one thing: whether it was Danyangzi’s Great Matron for pill refining, the Wandering Lord, or even that small-footed woman from that night—they were absolutely not ghosts. At least, not the ghosts from his understanding.
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> Just then, the Hu family tablets were all in place, and Hu Qinghe led a large group of Hu clansfolk toward Lv Zhuangyuan.
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> “Troupe Leader Lv, please bear with us—it’ll be hard work. Oh, and Jialiang, take the others and help Troupe Leader Lv set up the stage.”
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> “Oh dear, how embarrassing. Master Hu, you’re too kind.”
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> “Troupe Leader Lv, you know the customs for opera. Once the ancestors come out to watch, the juniors footing the bill must leave and stay indoors with doors shut. So we’ll leave the ancestral hall in your care.” Master Hu instructed them kindly, his face full of goodwill.
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> “Of course, of course. Don’t worry, Master Hu—with me here, the hall will be fine.” Lv Zhuangyuan thumped his chest, speaking with ironclad certainty.
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> No one might be watching, but Lv Zhuangyuan wouldn’t dare slack off. If anything happened to the hall, the Hu family could bury the entire Lv Family Troupe alive.
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> “Also, once the singing starts, the living can’t speak to the performers—lest the ancestors find it displeasing.”
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> “Stick to cheerful plays. The ancestors said in dreams that the underworld’s too bleak—they want something festive.”
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> “No need to sing all night. After five-watch, my son will come retrieve the ancestors’ tablets and take them home, and you can rest.”
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> Lv Zhuangyuan nodded like a pecking chick. “Yes, yes! Don’t worry, Master Hu—we won’t break a single rule.”
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> With the Hu clansfolk’s help, the stage was up in no time. Only five would perform tonight; Luo Jinhua stayed away since women weren’t allowed in the ancestral hall.
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> At Hu Qinghe’s shout, the dense crowd of onlookers dispersed, heading home.
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> “Gong! Gong-gong!” As the Lv family took the stage to sing, Li Huowang waited in the wings.
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> Time ticked by. All of Wuli Gang fell quiet, the large village plunging into darkness, with only the ancestral hall aglow.
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> Living performers singing for the dead—this was a first for Li Huowang. He parted the backstage curtain for a look outside.
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> It was eerie, no doubt. The stage bustled with energy, but the audience was deathly silent. No applause—just rows of black name tablets, with treasure candles and yellow paper between them.
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> His stint at Clear Wind Temple had toughened him to such sights, but the Lv troupe struggled. Soon, the performing Lv Juren forgot his lines multiple times, worrying gong-beating Lv Zhuangyuan sick.
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> But as time wore on, they found their rhythm and things smoothed out.
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> In the silent night, the singing carried far. Sword on his back, Li Huowang sat in the wings with eyes closed, resting to the accompaniment.
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> Listening, listening—even bored Li Huowang caught a subtle charm in it, his head swaying to the drawn-out tones.
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> In this atmosphere, second watch passed unnoticed, bringing them to third watch.
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> Li Huowang now understood: third watch was eleven p.m. to one a.m., fourth from one to three, fifth from three to five. After five, the village roosters would crow.
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> He yawned. For some reason, he tired faster than the others here.
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> He couldn’t nap on the job for pay, so Li Huowang took out the Heavenly Book, pondering it to fend off sleep.
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> Lately, during night watches, he’d studied it too. Aside from confirming it was a scripture urging goodness, he’d gained nothing else.
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> As he read, second watch became third. The ancestral hall remained normal—nothing happened.
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> Li Huowang glanced up at Lv Zhuangyuan, who was changing makeup in the copper mirror before him, thinking to himself: “Troupe Leader Lv’s heart must be bleeding now—six taels of silver down the drain for nothing.”
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> It made sense, though. By rights, nothing should go wrong. This was the Hu family ancestral hall—juniors inviting elders to a show; the elders wouldn’t wreck it.
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> Just as Li Huowang thought the night would pass uneventfully, the unexpected struck. The drawn-out singing from outside stopped abruptly, without warning.
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> (End of chapter)