The Thompson Family ancestral hall is not large, occupying about two mu of land. It is built with blue bricks. In front is the sacrificial courtyard; when there are too many clan members, everyone can only stand in the yard to hold the ceremony. In the center of the courtyard grows an old locust tree, its branches gnarled and vigorous, covered with cracks, and it must be at least a hundred years old.

In the middle stands a pentagonal building, which is the main hall for enshrining the ancestral tablets of past generations. On both sides are the left and right side rooms. The left is the council hall where the family elders discuss important clan matters, while the right is the ancestral law hall, used for punishing clan members and maintaining family authority.

Below the township level, the laws of the Song Dynasty are meaningless; clan rules and ancestral law are what truly matter.

To the left of the side rooms is a corridor leading straight to the backyard. The backyard is very small, with only two small rooms, which should be the residence of the ancestral hall’s caretaker.

Brian Thompson was extremely devout. As soon as he entered the courtyard, he respectfully knelt down and kowtowed three times.

Although David Thompson knew the importance of the ancestral hall, he didn’t feel it in his heart. At this moment, his legs felt like two stiff iron rods; to bend them and kneel was simply impossible.

Brian Thompson understood his son’s thoughts, but didn’t dare let the ancestors know, so he could only sigh quietly and didn’t force his son to kneel and kowtow in the courtyard.

“Qing’er, I’ll go find your fourth uncle to get two sticks of incense. You go pay respects to the ancestors first; father will be right back.”

Brian Thompson hurried off to the backyard to find the caretaker. David Thompson looked around the courtyard; he was only interested in the pair of beast-headed bronze incense burners. After estimating how much they might sell for, he strolled toward the main hall.

The main hall’s door was ajar, and there seemed to be a shadow moving inside. David Thompson peeked through the crack and saw a middle-aged man with graying hair standing in front of the offering table, furtively pouring wine from the table’s jug into a small gourd.

David Thompson was stunned—someone was actually stealing wine in the main hall.

Chapter 0005: Enemies Meet on a Narrow Road

David Thompson didn’t know whether he should disturb this person. At that moment, hurried footsteps approached, and Brian Thompson emerged from the moon gate in the side corridor, muttering to himself, “Strange, where did the person go?”

“Qing’er, your fourth uncle isn’t here. Let’s pay our respects first and offer incense later!”

Brian Thompson’s voice startled the middle-aged man in the main hall. He quickly stuffed the gourd into his chest and, flustered, put the wine jug back in its place. With a creak, the main hall door opened, and David Thompson walked in.

David Thompson pretended not to have seen anything and turned to his father, saying, “Father, there’s someone in the main hall!”

“Heh, you gave me a fright. So it’s Qing’er—long time no see.” The middle-aged man secretly breathed a sigh of relief; so it was this silly boy.

Brian Thompson also walked in, both surprised and delighted. “I couldn’t find you anywhere—so Fourth Brother was in the main hall all along.”

This man was named George Thompson, Brian Thompson’s cousin, also a scholar. He was smooth and well-connected within the family. Although not from the main branch of Lushan, he was regarded with special favor by the clan leader and was entrusted with the care of the The Thompson Family ancestral hall.

Only now did David Thompson get a good look at him. Despite the gray in his hair and beard, his features were actually quite young—at most thirty years old—but his hair and beard were already half white, making him look like a man in his early fifties.

Though his hair and beard were half white, the beard on his chin was a full foot long, floating gracefully and giving him a somewhat immortal, Daoist air.

He was tall and wore a snow-white robe of exquisite workmanship. His every gesture exuded a refined and cultured demeanor, like a Daoist cultivating health in the ancestral hall, forming a sharp contrast with the patched, shabby clothes and thin figure of Brian Thompson.

George Thompson noticed that David Thompson didn’t kneel and pay respects to him, which made him a bit uncomfortable. He then asked Brian Thompson, “Why have you come today, Daqi?”

“Qing’er has fully recovered, so we’ve come today to thank our ancestors for their protection.”

“As it should be!”

George Thompson glanced at David Thompson, then pulled Brian Thompson aside and asked with a half-smile, “Perhaps I shouldn’t ask, but Qing’er looks quite clever! Why does everyone call him ‘Second Fool’?”

Brian Thompson gave a wry smile. “He used to be a bit slow, but thanks to the ancestors’ blessing, Qing’er suddenly became enlightened.”

“Oh! So that’s how it is.”

While father and uncle whispered to each other off to the side, David Thompson curiously looked around the rather grand main hall.

From the outside, the main hall didn’t seem tall—at most three stories—but from the inside, it felt very lofty. The structure was all wood, with several long curtains hanging from a massive crossbeam. Dozens of tables were stacked by the north window, suggesting that banquets were often held in the ancestral hall.

In the center stood the spirit tablet tower, actually a huge wooden shrine two stories high, occupying most of the main hall. It was densely packed with ancestral tablets of the four branches of the The Thompson Family family, stacked layer upon layer like a pagoda, with more than a hundred tablets in total.

David Thompson noticed something odd at the very top. Normally, there would be only one spirit tablet at the top—the first ancestor enshrined by the family. The The Thompson Family family was no exception; at the very top, in the center of all the tablets, was a single tablet, highlighting its status as the founding ancestor.

But above this ancestor’s tablet was an even larger spirit tablet, apparently made of precious rosewood, placed sideways at the very edge. What puzzled David Thompson was that there wasn’t a single character on this tablet, as if it were a spare, unnecessary tablet. Yet some instinct told David Thompson that this was the true ancestor of the The Thompson Family family.