Each tablet represents a glorious or ordinary life in the family. These memorial tablets and portraits, illuminated by candlelight, appear exceptionally mysterious and solemn, as if telling the story of the family's vicissitudes.
Lin Xiuyuan glanced at it indifferently, then walked towards the left-hand staircase. The wooden handrail of the staircase, weathered by time, appeared mottled and ancient. Each step seemed to tell the story of the family's past, each step seemingly traversing the trajectory of history.
To be buried in the family ancestral hall and receive incense offerings, one must start from the first floor and be an elder of the family.
The second floor is for those who made great contributions to the family during their lifetime, played a significant role in the family's development, or nurtured outstanding descendants, etc.
As for the third floor, there are fewer than ten memorial tablets, all belonging to the Golden Core Ancestors of past generations!
Originally, Lin Xiuyuan came to the Yunmeng Mountains to find the Zhou family, hoping to let his parents return to their roots. He only thought that they could be buried in the ancestral land behind the mountain, and he did not expect them to be able to enter the ancestral hall.
Now, Zhou has not only sent both of his parents into the ancestral hall, but also placed them on the second floor, clearly showing his goodwill.
Even though Lin Xiuyuan felt extremely disgusted by Zhou's actions, his feelings towards her lessened somewhat at this moment.
Upon entering the second floor, the number of memorial tablets had decreased significantly, to less than a hundred.
This made the large space feel empty and spacious.
Lin Xiuyuan walked inside, to the very end of the row of desks, and stood in front of a desk that was clearly newly added.
On it are two memorial tablets and two portraits. These two paintings were obviously painted by highly skilled artists. The people in the paintings are so lifelike that they seem to be about to step out of the paintings.
A young man, tall and upright, wearing a simple long gown, exuding an air of competence; his square face appeared somewhat serious, his skin slightly dark, and although young, he already showed signs of vicissitude; his eyes were full of determination and depth.
The portrait beside it depicts the gentleness and kindness of a young woman. Her face is soft, and her eyes are full of compassion. In the painting, she has a graceful figure, and her dress flows gently, as if she is dancing in the wind.
Lin Xiuyuan stared at the two portraits, lost in thought. He never expected to see his parents looking like they were when they were young in this way.
However, no matter how I try to recall, it seems impossible to reconcile the memories...
Lin Xiuyuan's eyes were a little moist. He reached into his robes, took out the Qiankun bag from his chest, and put two wooden boxes inside.
"Your unfilial son has taken so long to let your parents rest in peace..."
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