As they approached the Hu Family Ancestral Hall, it became evident that the Hu family was no ordinary household. The Hu family was one of the most prominent in Wuligang, with nearly a third of the village sharing their surname.
Li Huowan had already learned from Lü Zhuangyuan (the opera troupe leader) that the person hiring them was the wealthiest landowner in Wuligang and the senior-most member of the Hu clan—Hu Qinghe. Now, accompanied by Lü Zhuangyuan and his troupe, Li Huowan followed the path leading to the ancestral hall.
"Master Hu said there's nothing to worry about. He's hired other troupes to perform 'opera for ghosts' in past years, and nothing's ever happened," Lü Zhuangyuan said with a strained smile, trying to put everyone at ease.
Li Huowan gave him a side glance, unconvinced. He couldn't tell whether the old man was trying to reassure him or himself.
Pressing a hand against the copper bell hanging from his waist, Li Huowan felt slightly more at ease. However, he still silently hoped nothing unusual would occur. After all, using the bell to summon You Laoye came at a steep cost—three months of his lifespan for every use.
Walking along the narrow village paths, they soon arrived at the Hu Family Ancestral Hall, adorned with numerous red lanterns that glowed against the deepening night.
The hall was crowded with people, and Li Huowan couldn't make his way inside. Peering over the heads of the gathered villagers, he could see many of them kneeling in front of black ancestral tablets, lighting incense and kowtowing deeply.
"That's Master Hu right there," Lü Zhuangyuan said, pointing to an elder in silk robes at the front of the crowd. "He also said that once the opera is over, we shouldn't rush off. He's inviting us to dinner."
Cultural Annotation: In traditional Chinese culture, the ancestral hall serves as a sacred place where descendants pay homage to their forebears. Ancestral tablets, typically small wooden or black plaques inscribed with the names of deceased family members, symbolize the spirits of the ancestors. These halls are not only used for rituals but also signify the enduring presence and authority of the clan's lineage._
As Lü Zhuangyuan spoke, those kowtowing before the tablets finished their ritual. They respectfully carried the black tablets from the altar and placed them on several prepared semi-circular tables, already laden with offerings of food.
There were so many tablets that the spacious ancestral hall was soon filled with rows of tables. Each table was adorned with an array of exquisite dishes, red candles, incense sticks, and gold ingots made from paper—offerings intended for the ancestors.
The walls of the ancestral hall featured an additional eerie touch: rows of life-sized paper effigies. These effigies, dressed in servant attire, stood waiting to "serve" the ancestors during their feast.
"Wow, Master Hu sure is generous! Spending so much to hire an opera troupe just for his ancestors!"
"No wonder the Hu family always stays blessed. This kind of devotion must bring their ancestors' protection."
"Ah, when I die, I doubt my descendants will have the money to afford something like this."
"Well, you'd have to make sure your children get rich first. Hiring someone to perform for spirits doesn't come cheap."
Listening to the murmurs of the Hu family members and observing the grand setup, Li Huowan started to relax. There didn't seem to be anything immediately ominous about the situation.
Leaning toward Lü Zhuangyuan, he asked, "Lü Troupe Leader, during all your years traveling, have you encountered ghosts more often or... those 'other things'?"
"What? What do you mean, other things? Aren't ghosts and those 'things' the same?" Lü Zhuangyuan asked, wide-eyed and genuinely perplexed.
"They're not the same at all," Li Huowan replied, pausing mid-sentence. "A ghost is... something a person becomes after death, but the others... well..." He trailed off, unable to articulate it clearly.
Yet deep down, Li Huowan knew that entities like the "Big Granny," You Laoye, or even the woman with bound feet he encountered that night weren't traditional ghosts—they were something else entirely.
At that moment, the Hu family finished arranging the ancestral tablets. Hu Qinghe led a procession of Hu clan members toward the opera troupe.
"Lü Troupe Leader, please take care of everything tonight," Hu Qinghe said with a courteous smile. "Jiao Liang, help the troupe set up their stage."
"Ah, you're far too kind, Master Hu! This is nothing at all," Lü Zhuangyuan replied, bowing repeatedly.
"Lü Troupe Leader, you know the rules," Hu Qinghe continued, his tone turning more serious. "Once the ancestors come out to watch the opera, all living descendants must return home and stay behind closed doors. We'll leave the ancestral hall entirely in your care."
"Understood, Master Hu. You can rest assured that we'll handle everything properly," Lü Zhuangyuan promised, puffing out his chest.
Breaking any rules during such an occasion would be unthinkable. If anything went wrong in the ancestral hall, the Hu family would undoubtedly retaliate against the Lü family troupe.
"One more thing," Hu Qinghe added. "Once the opera begins, no one—not even the living—can speak to the performers. It might disturb the ancestors' enjoyment."
"And don't perform anything somber. The ancestors have sent dreams saying the underworld is too dreary. They want something festive."
"You don't need to perform all night. Once we've passed the fifth watch, my son will retrieve the tablets, and you can rest."
Cultural Annotation: In traditional Chinese belief, the concept of time during the night is divided into five "watches" (更, geng), each lasting about two hours. These time segments were traditionally used in both civilian and military contexts. The "fifth watch," occurring from 3 AM to 5 AM, signifies the final hours of the night._
With the help of the Hu family, the stage was quickly set up in the ancestral hall. Tonight, only five performers would take the stage, as women weren't allowed inside the hall, meaning Luo Juanhua (Lü Zhuangyuan's daughter-in-law) would not be joining.
Once the setup was complete, the crowd that had gathered earlier dispersed under Hu Qinghe's orders, leaving the ancestral hall isolated in eerie silence.
"锵锵锵锵抬!" The Lü family troupe began their performance with gusto, their music echoing across the quiet night. Li Huowan, meanwhile, stayed backstage, keeping an eye on the proceedings.
As the hours passed, the entire village grew dark and silent, with only the ancestral hall still lit by its red lanterns.
Peering out from behind the stage curtain, Li Huowan caught sight of the scene outside. The brightly lit stage was bustling with life, but the audience below was chillingly still—a sea of black ancestral tablets, each illuminated by flickering candles and incense.
Cultural Annotation: In Chinese opera performances for the deceased, it's believed that the ancestral spirits attend as the audience. The setup, complete with offerings and ritual props, creates an atmosphere that blends solemn reverence with theatricality._
Despite the unsettling atmosphere, Li Huowan remained calm. Having survived the horrors of Qingfeng Temple, this scene was tame by comparison. However, the same couldn't be said for the Lü family troupe. Before long, Lü Juren (Lü Zhuangyuan's son) began forgetting his lines, causing Lü Zhuangyuan to glare at him in frustration.
Eventually, the performers settled into their routine, their nerves calming as the night wore on. The hauntingly melodic strains of the opera drifted through the quiet village, and Li Huowan found himself swaying slightly to the rhythm.
By the second watch (11 PM to 1 AM), the performance was in full swing, and everything seemed normal.
Li Huowan yawned, unable to shake the drowsiness that often crept over him in this world. To stay awake, he took out the "Heavenly Scripture" and began studying it to stave off sleep.
The book, inscribed with cryptic verses, had yielded no secrets during his previous attempts at deciphering it. It appeared to be nothing more than a collection of moral teachings, urging virtue and kindness.
As the third watch (1 AM to 3 AM) approached, the performance continued smoothly, with no signs of trouble. Li Huowan couldn't help but chuckle, imagining Lü Zhuangyuan lamenting the six taels of silver he'd forfeited for what appeared to be an uneventful night.
But just as Li Huowan began to believe the night would pass without incident, the unexpected happened.
The opera abruptly fell silent.