Chapter Nine: Repaying Resentment with Honesty (Part Two)

‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’

Someone was desperately beating a copper gong on the northern edge of the town where the Li clan resided, shouting, “The ancestral hall is on fire! Everyone, come quick and help!”

Men and women from every household rushed out, carrying buckets and wooden basins, sprinting toward the ancestral hall at the foot of Deer Mountain.

By now, the ancestral hall was engulfed in roaring flames, fire tongues dancing wildly. Countless clan members fetched water from the creek and dashed into the courtyard, pouring it onto the blazing main hall. Yet no one dared get close; the buckets of water only managed to wet the front gate and did little to quell the fire.

Everyone could see clearly that the wooden shrine holding the spirit tablets had already collapsed in the blaze. Even if the fire were extinguished, the ancestral tablets could not be saved.

In the courtyard, a middle-aged man dressed in a brocade robe stomped his feet, punched his chest, and wept bitterly. “I am guilty! How can I, Li Wenyou, face our ancestors?”

This heart-wrenching man was the clan head, Li Wenyou. The ancestral rites were to begin in just a few hours. The spirits of their forebears had already gathered, ready to receive the descendants’ respect. And yet, at this crucial moment, the ancestral hall caught fire—a blaze that might consume the very souls of their ancestors.

Li Wenyou’s self-reproach ran deeper still: this fire had destroyed the most treasured heirloom of the Li clan. If relatives from the capital or the southern branches came to claim their heritage, how could he present anything?

Beside Li Wenyou stood the anxious Li Daguang. He had already explained the cause of the fire to the clan head, placing full blame on three mischievous boys who had stolen offerings. But even so, his heart was heavy. He fully understood the gravity of the disaster. The ancestral hall could be rebuilt, and the spirit tablets replaced—but if the great ancestor’s tablet was lost, it would be an irreparable catastrophe.

He regretted fleeing so hastily; at the very least, he could have saved the great ancestor’s tablet.

At that moment, Li Yanqing appeared in the rear courtyard. Li Daguang’s residence there had escaped the fire’s reach. Clan members opened the back door and stood inside, throwing water toward the main hall. But the clan head couldn’t see this scene; everyone had rushed to the front courtyard, leaving only three or four people to fight the fire in the rear.

Li Yanqing had soaked his clothes in the creek until drenched, stuffed a wet cloth over his mouth and nose, and wrapped himself in one of Li Daguang’s quilts. Taking advantage of the distraction, he retrieved a purple sandalwood spirit tablet from an empty wine jar and hid it close to his body beneath his clothes.

“Go! Go! It’s dangerous here. Children, get away!”

A clan member spotted Li Yanqing and rushed to drive him out, but he dodged and ran to the other side.

Several clan members grew angry. “Whose child are you?I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.