As the auspicious time approached, Hong Yingrong changed into a plain dress and wore only a white jade hairpin in her hair.
Xue Shanqiu was also dressed simply and followed his mother obediently.
"Opening the ancestral hall—"
Following Xue An's long shout, the heavy door of the ancestral hall slowly opened.
The sunlight shines in obliquely, making the tablets of ancestors shine brightly.
Hong Yingrong's gaze fell directly on the tablet in the front row - "The spirit tablet of the late father, Mr. Xue Yonghuai".
She walked forward slowly, gently stroked the words on the tablet with her fingertips, and suddenly frowned. Why did this handwriting look so familiar?
"Mother?" Xue Shanqiu called out worriedly.
Hong Yingrong collected her thoughts, lit three incense sticks, and blue smoke rose.
Xue Shanqiu gently lifted the hem of her skirt and knelt on the mat with her mother.
"Kneel—" Xue An's voice echoed in the ancestral hall.
Hong Yingrong clasped her hands together and slowly bowed.
Xue Shanqiu imitated his mother and lightly touched the cushion with his forehead.
"Hong, the seventh-generation granddaughter-in-law of the Xingyuan Marquis's Mansion, brings her daughter Shanqiu to pay homage to our ancestors." Hong Yingrong's voice was steady and solemn.
Xue Shanqiu raised her eyes quietly and saw her mother's straight back looking particularly thin in the cigarette smoke. She suddenly remembered that her father loved to touch her head when he was alive. Those big hands covered with calluses were always warm and strong.
"Bye again—"
The mother and daughter leaned over again.
"Three bows—"
When Hong Yingrong kowtowed for the third time, a tear fell silently on the cushion.
"Mother?" Xue Shanqiu called softly.
Hong Yingrong seemed not to hear anything. She suddenly remembered the scene twenty years ago when Xue Yonghuai first brought her to worship their ancestors.
Suddenly a mountain breeze blew outside the ancestral hall, causing the door to creak.
Xue Shanqiu shuddered inexplicably, but saw his mother slowly straighten up, with a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.
Hong Yingrong said softly, "Please burn some incense for your father."
Xue Shanqiu took the incense sticks obediently and bowed three times respectfully in front of his father's spirit tablet.
Hong Yingrong stood in front of the tablets that lined the entire wall, her figure shrouded in the smoke of incense. Suddenly, she turned abruptly, pointing her finger directly at the tablet of her husband, Xue Yonghuai, with a cold glint in her eyes:
"Xue An!" Her voice was like the sound of gold and jade colliding, echoing in the ancestral hall.
"I can't believe you dare to act like this in front of our ancestors?!"
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