After a while, he indeed saw those three little rascals sneaking along a path toward the ancestral hall, just as they had the day before. There was a patch of shrubs by the creek; hiding in the bushes, they could see what was happening in the courtyard.

The three of them crouched in the bushes, peering into the ancestral hall’s courtyard. Frank Brooks suddenly pointed excitedly into the yard and said, “I see it! That red food basket—all kinds of pastries are inside.”

“Shh! Keep your voice down. Third Uncle is in the courtyard too. Don’t let him see us.”

“What’s there to be afraid of!”

Frank Brooks gritted his teeth and said, “As long as we’re not caught in the act, what can he do to us?”

“I’m just worried he’ll take all the pastries away, and then we’ll have nothing to hope for.”

“That’s true. So what do you think we should do?”

“We’ll come at night. My dad says that drunkard falls asleep after drinking. We’ll wait until he’s asleep to make our move.”

The three little rascals discussed a bit more, then retraced their steps and left. They never realized that, right above their heads in the big tree, a child with a cold sneer was hiding and watching them.

……

At dusk, David Thompson appeared in the cypress tree again, waiting for a chance to enter the ancestral hall. Before long, he saw George Thompson come out of the ancestral hall, lock the main gate, and happily head toward the town carrying a food box.

Although the main gate was locked, it meant nothing to children. David Thompson climbed a tree right next to the wall and vaulted over into the ancestral hall.

The main hall’s doors were already locked, and the windows were bolted from the inside. David Thompson ran to the backyard. Yesterday, he had noticed that one of the windows in the back didn’t seem to have a latch. The window was blocked by dozens of messy tables, so usually no one paid attention to it.

The backyard was small, with only two rooms—this was George Thompson’s residence. In one corner of the yard, a dozen or so empty wine jars were piled up. Three sparse plum trees grew in the middle, and the foundation stones were covered in slippery moss, showing that no one had walked there for a long time.

The back door of the main hall faced the courtyard, but it hadn’t been used in years and was locked shut. The doors, windows, and pillars at the back hadn’t been painted in ages, covered in cracks of all sizes, looking extremely old and worn.

David Thompson ran to the innermost window. The window was high, and he wasn’t tall enough. David Thompson looked around; aside from the pile of wine jars, there was nothing else in the yard. He ran over, grabbed a large wine jar, turned it upside down on the ground, and used it as a stepping stone.

Standing on the wine jar, David Thompson groped for the window, silently praying—this was the moment of truth. “Creak!” The old window actually opened when he pulled it; sure enough, it wasn’t locked. David Thompson was overjoyed and slipped through the window in one leap.

Chapter 0008: Returning Straight for Wrongs (Part 2)

David Thompson was agile, squeezing through the gaps between tables covered in thick dust and entering the main hall. By now, it was nearly dark outside, but the main hall was brightly lit. An oil lamp and two large candles illuminated the front half of the hall as if it were daylight, though the back of the wooden shrine was pitch black.

The sacrificial ceremony would be held at dawn, so the main hall was filled with all kinds of offerings, as well as paper models of carriages and mansions.

David Thompson circled to the front of the wooden shrine and saw that the offering table was already piled high with all sorts of sacrificial items. The offerings were arranged in three rows: the back row held the three main meats—sheep’s head, pig’s head, and cow’s head; the middle row had chicken, duck, and fish; the front row had an incense burner and two big red candles, with trays of various pastries and fruits on either side.

At a glance, David Thompson saw the white jade cakes that the three little rascals had been dreaming about. They looked like small mooncakes and were said to be a famous treat from the capital. He wasn’t particularly interested, but still grabbed two and stuffed them into his pocket. He also found a slender-necked celadon vase on the offering table, which he needed to use as an alarm, so he tucked that away as well.

David Thompson had spent all of last night thinking and had already come up with a solid plan. This was a habit he had developed over many years: always plan before acting, but once he decided, he never looked back.

He wasn’t in a hurry to act. Instead, he crept along the wall from the back door to the front, memorizing the route. Only then did he run behind the wooden shrine and, like a monkey, climb up to the top, two stories high.

David Thompson first hid the largest, blank zitan wood spirit tablet in the backyard, then returned to climb up the shrine again. Everything was ready—now he just had to wait for the fish to bite.

The first to return was George Thompson. He had gone to town to get some pig’s head meat. There was good wine tonight, and what’s wine without pig’s head meat?

George Thompson locked the door behind him and hurried to the corner, where two jars of his beloved wine awaited. Even though the jars were still sealed with clay, that was no obstacle for George Thompson.

He sat cross-legged by the wine jars, inserted a thin copper tube into the edge of a jar, and took a deep suck. The cool, mellow wine flowed out and into a large coarse porcelain bowl beside him.

“Heh! Wanting those two youngsters to keep me company—afraid I’ll steal the wine, huh? The more you worry, the more I’ll steal, just to spite you, you old turtle.”

George Thompson muttered to himself as he picked up the wine bowl and took a careful sip. His eyes narrowed in pleasure, and he smacked his lips. “This is really good wine!”

Up on the shrine, David Thompson shook his head in secret. This Fourth Uncle, after coming in, didn’t even check if the zitan wood spirit tablet was still there, and, ignoring his heavy responsibilities, immediately started stealing the sacrificial wine. He was completely unfit to be the ancestral hall’s caretaker. The clan leader actually let him guard the ancestral hall—clearly, that clan leader wasn’t all that clever either.

……