Chapter 32: Hu Family Ancestral Hall

Chapter 32: The Hu Family Ancestral Hall

Those who could afford to hire a troupe to perform operas for ghosts were no ordinary folk; the Hu clan was a prominent name in Wuligang, with nearly a third of the village bearing the surname.

Li Huowang had already learned from Lü Zhuangyuan that the one paying for the performance was Hu Qinghe, the wealthiest landlord and the most senior elder in all of Wuligang.

At this moment, he was accompanying Lü Zhuangyuan and his troupe as they hurried toward the Hu Family Ancestral Hall.

"Master Hu said there's nothing to worry about; he's hired other troupes to perform ghost operas in previous years, and nothing ever happened."

Li Huowang shot him a sidelong glance, unsure whether these words were meant to comfort the speaker or the listener.

Pressing a hand against the bell at his waist, Li Huowang felt a measure of reassurance; even if trouble arose, this talisman brought him much peace of mind.

Of course, it would be best if nothing happened at all, considering that summoning Daoist You just once cost him three months of his lifespan.

Walking along the village paths, they soon arrived at the Hu Family Ancestral Hall, illuminated by a multitude of red lanterns.

The crowd was so dense that Li Huowang and the others could barely squeeze in; peering over the sea of heads, he saw throngs of people burning incense and kowtowing before the black memorial tablets.

"That's Master Hu right there; he also told us not to leave after the show, as he's treating us to a meal."

Lü Zhuangyuan pointed to the elderly man in silk robes at the very front of the kowtowing crowd.

Even as he spoke, those kowtowing rose to their feet and reverently carried down the ancestors' black tablets, placing them upon the half-immortal tables prepared long in advance.

There were many tablets and just as many tables, filling the spacious, three-courtyard ancestral hall to the brim.

The tables before the tablets were not empty; they were laden with a rich variety of delicacies and fine dishes.

Red candles, incense, gold ingots, and yellow paper were neatly arranged on the serving platters for the ancestors to partake.

As if fearing any oversight, over a dozen paper effigies meant to pour tea and serve water stood along the walls of the hall, likely to be placed beside the tables to attend the spirits shortly.

"My, Master Hu is truly generous, spending his own coin to hire a troupe to sing for the ancestors."

"Indeed, no wonder none of Master Hu's households suffer from illness or disaster; it's all thanks to the ancestors' blessings."

"Sigh, I wonder if I'll be blessed with such wealth after I die."

"That depends on whether your descendants can make a fortune like Master Hu; hiring a troupe to perform for ghosts costs a small fortune."

Listening to the Hu clansmen and taking in the solemn scene before him, Li Huowang felt somewhat reassured; nothing about this looked like a situation ripe for disaster.

He leaned slightly toward Lü Zhuangyuan beside him. "Troupe Master Lü, you've traveled far and wide for years; have you encountered more ghosts or more of those creatures seeking investiture?"

"Huh?! What do you mean, aren't they the same thing?" Lü Zhuangyuan widened his eyes, his expression one of utter astonishment.

"How could they be the same? One is transformed after a person dies, and the other is..." Li Huowang trailed off, unsure how to explain.

Yet Li Huowang was certain of one thing: whether it was the Great-Grandmother Danyangzi used for alchemy, Lord You, or even the woman with bound feet from that night, they were absolutely not ghosts—at least, not the ghosts of his understanding.

Just then, the Hu family tablets were all properly enshrined, and Hu Qinghe led a large host of Hu clansmen toward Lü Zhuangyuan.

"Troupe Master Lü, I must trouble you greatly; Jiaoliang, take the others and help Master Lü set up the stage."

"Oh, my, you shouldn't have, Master Hu is far too courteous."

"Troupe Master Lü, you know the rules of the ghost opera; once the ancestors come out to watch, the descendants who commissioned the play must leave and remain behind closed doors at home, so I entrust the ancestral hall to your care," Master Hu instructed with a kindly face.

"Naturally, naturally. Rest assured, Master Hu, with me here, nothing will happen to the hall," Lü Zhuangyuan declared resolutely, thumping his chest.

Though no one was watching, Lü Zhuangyuan dared not make a single mistake; if anything went wrong in the ancestral hall, the Hu family would bury the entire Lü troupe alive.

"Also, once the performance begins, the living must not speak to the actors, lest the ancestors find it displeasing."

"As for the play, just pick something joyous; the ancestors sent a dream saying the underworld is too dreary and they wish to see something festive."

"There's no need to sing the whole night either; once the fifth watch has passed, my son will come to escort the ancestors' tablets home, and you may rest."

Lü Zhuangyuan nodded his head like a pecking chick, "Yes, yes, yes, rest assured Master Hu, we will absolutely not break the rules."

With the help of the Hu family, the stage was swiftly erected in the ancestral hall; only five performers would take the stage tonight, and Luo Juanhua was absent, for women were forbidden from entering the hall.

Immediately following Hu Qinghe's shouts, the dense crowd of onlookers dispersed and headed back to their homes.

"Clang-clang~ clang-clang-tai~!" As the Lü family took the stage to begin the opera, Li Huowang remained waiting in the wings.

Time ticked by, and all of Wuligang fell silent; the sprawling village was plunged into darkness, with only the ancestral hall retaining a glimmer of light.

The living performing an opera for the dead was a first for Li Huowang; he pulled back the curtain of the backstage area and peered out.

Admittedly, it was quite eerie; the stage was lively and bustling, yet the audience was engulfed in dead silence, with no applause, only row upon row of black tablets engraved with names, and the sacred candles and yellow paper nestled between them.

Having survived the ordeal at Qingfeng Temple, such scenes could no longer frighten him, but the Lü troupe was a different story; before long, the acting Lü Juren forgot his lines several times, much to the anxiety of the gong-playing Lü Zhuangyuan.

However, as time slowly passed, they began to settle into their roles, and the performance grew smooth.

In the silent depths of the night, the sound of the opera carried far and wide; with his sword on his back, Li Huowang sat in the wings with his eyes closed, accompanied by the melodies.

As he listened, to his surprise, the somewhat bored Li Huowang actually found a certain charm in it, his head swaying to the rhythmic, drawn-out vocalizations.

In such an atmosphere, the second watch slipped by unnoticed, giving way to the third watch.

By now, Li Huowang had figured out that the third watch was from eleven to one in the morning, the fourth from one to three, and the fifth from three to five; generally, past five o'clock, the village roosters would begin to crow.

He let out a yawn; for some reason, he always felt sleepier here than anyone else.

Since he was paid to do a job, he couldn't very well fall asleep, so Li Huowang simply took the Heavenly Book in his hands and studied it to ward off drowsiness.

Lately, while keeping watch at night, he would take it out to study, but aside from confirming it was merely a scripture urging people toward virtue, he had gained nothing else.

As he read, the second watch passed and the third watch arrived; everything in the ancestral hall remained perfectly normal, and nothing happened.

Li Huowang looked up at Lü Zhuangyuan, who was changing his makeup before a bronze mirror, and thought to himself, "Troupe Master Lü's heart must be bleeding right now, losing six taels of silver for nothing."

It made sense, really; logically, nothing should go wrong here, for this was the Hu Family Ancestral Hall, where the younger generation invited their elders to watch a play, and the elders would hardly smash up the venue.

Just as Li Huowang assumed the night would pass just like this, an accident occurred; he heard the drawn-out singing from outside come to an abrupt, unheralded halt.

(End of Chapter)