ancestral hall
It was eight o'clock in the morning and the light was just right.
The entire Yuguang team had arrived at the entrance of the Chen Family Ancestral Hall a quarter of an hour early. No one was talking, and even the equipment was neatly arranged. The atmosphere was as solemn as if they were waiting for a ceremony to begin. Each of their faces wore an expression of barely concealed excitement and awe.
At exactly eight o'clock, a thin figure, leaning on a cane, slowly approached from the end of the alley. It was Uncle Chen. His steps were neither hurried nor slow, each one centered on the bluestone pavement, as if measured countless times. He was wearing a dark blue, double-breasted cotton shirt, a bit washed out, but still spotless. His graying hair was meticulously combed.
He walked up to the crowd, his cloudy gaze sweeping across Lu Yu's face before finally settling on Shi Guang. His expression was complex, a mixture of scrutiny and a subtle tinge of approval. He didn't say anything extra, simply nodding slightly at Lu Yu and Shi Guang as a greeting.
Then, he walked to the tightly closed vermilion lacquer door and took out the heavy key from his pocket. He did not unlock it immediately, but first stretched out his calloused hand and gently brushed away the dust on the door knocker, his movements gentle, as if he were handling a rare treasure.
Everyone held their breath.
Uncle Chen slowly inserted the largest key into the rusty copper keyhole.
“Giggle…squeak…ah…”
The sound of the key turning was heavy and choppy, remarkably clear in the silence. It wasn't like the sound of metal rubbing against each other, but more like a compressed moment being twisted open with great difficulty.
With a dull click, the big lock opened.
Uncle Chen removed the lock and carefully placed it in his cloth bag. Then, he placed his hands on the heavy door and, with all his strength, slowly pushed it open.
“Squeak—”
The two long-sealed vermilion lacquered doors sighed long and hoarsely, and slowly opened inwards.
A golden beam of morning light, like the most precise spotlight on stage, first streamed through the crack of the open door, instantly illuminating the countless dancing dust particles in the dark space beyond. Those tiny particles tumbled and danced in the beam of light, like a group of awakening spirits, silently telling the story of the years.
Then, a space several times more magnificent than the outer hall, with a breathtakingly complex internal structure, suddenly unfolded in front of everyone, like a historical scroll that had been treasured for a long time.
The towering pillars are adorned with lifelike coils of dragons and phoenixes; the layers of brackets, delicately constructed, resemble blossoming magnolias; and the caisson ceiling directly above, a splendid display of carved beams and painted rafters, is a resplendent spectacle. Though thickly covered in dust, its breathtaking beauty remains undisguised. The air is filled with a blend of aged wood fragrance and the faint aroma of incense, a solemn and awe-inspiring atmosphere that feels as if even time has slowed down.
"Oh my God..." Zhao Teng subconsciously raised his camera and forgot to open the lens cap. He was completely stunned, his mouth slightly open, but no sound came out.
Lin Xiyue and Sun Rui exchanged a glance, both seeing the same shock in each other's eyes. They had studied countless drawings and materials, but found that all the text and pictures were not even one ten-thousandth of what they saw with their own eyes.
At this moment, they truly understood what a heavy treasure Uncle Chen swore to protect with his life.
After a brief moment of shock, Lu Yu came to his senses. He gestured to everyone to take a deep breath, then silently mouthed two words: "Begin."
The team immediately set to work. Everyone's movements became cautious, with a reverent, almost pilgrim-like devotion. The scene was unusually quiet. Fatty Jiang's usual banter had vanished, replaced by the gentle hum of the equipment and the team members' commands, deliberately lowered to a whisper.
Lu Yu was in charge of overall coordination and the most technically demanding drone control. He'd taken off his jacket, leaving only a thin T-shirt, his arm muscles clearly visible. He piloted the drone, letting it rise slowly and gently like a silent swift, weaving between the exquisite beams, columns, and brackets. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, but his eyes were focused as never before.
Shi Guang, holding a handheld 3D scanner, was responsible for close-up digital scans of the most crucial and delicate wooden components. He donned white gloves and took each step with extreme precision, fearing to disturb the tranquility of the place. The scanner's blue light gently brushed across the surfaces of the wooden carvings depicting kirin, auspicious clouds, and the symbols of fortune, wealth, longevity, and happiness, as if reading and recording the centuries of time etched within them in a new way.
Uncle Chen brought a small wooden stool, passed down through countless generations, and sat on the high threshold of the ancestral hall. The sunlight stretched his figure outward. He puffed on his pipe, and amidst the smoke, he was like a stern overseer, scrutinizing every move of the young people; like a lonely watchman, silently gazing at the treasure he had guarded his entire life, which was now being reborn in a way he couldn't understand.
The cooperation between Lu Yu and Shi Guang reached an unprecedented peak at this moment.
When Lu Yu controlled the drone to fly under a dimly lit caisson, before he even had time to request fill light through the intercom, he saw that Shi Guang had predicted his intention and silently adjusted a portable LED soft light to the best angle and shone it upwards, instantly illuminating the most complex structure.
After more than three hours of surveying, the team rested on the spot, replenishing their water and food. The hall remained silent, with only the subtle sounds of people chewing compressed biscuits.
Uncle Chen, who had been sitting on the threshold, slowly stood up, tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe, and then walked into the hall with a stumbling step. He walked straight to the center of the hall, under the thickest golden nanmu beam with a coiled dragon carved on it.
He stretched out his calloused and scarred hands and touched the cracked dragon scales with infinite cherishment, not as if he were touching a piece of wood, but as if he were touching an old friend he hadn't seen for a long time.
He stood there quietly for a while, and suddenly spoke. His hoarse voice broke the silence, as if it came from a distant time and space.
"It took my grandfather, my father, and the seven best carpenters in our Chen family three years to erect this beam."
His voice was slow and had a strong rural accent, but it had a power that penetrated people's hearts.
"My grandfather said that working for the ancestral hall isn't just about doing work; it's about accumulating virtue. Wood is alive. If you fool it, it will fool you in the future. Houses may collapse, people may die, but the craftsman's conscience must remain in the wood, visible and tangible to future generations."
He raised his head, his cloudy eyes fixed on the lifelike dragon head high above. He pointed to the dragon's eyes and said to the person closest to him, "Especially these eyes. He said that if the eyes lose their spirit, it would be a great disrespect to the ancestors. This entire ancestral hall would become a dead wooden house."
Shi Guang was leaning against another pillar, drinking water. Upon hearing this, he put down his water bottle. He paused his data recording and slowly walked over to the dragon-shaped main beam. He said nothing, simply imitating Uncle Chen's example, looking up at the dragon's head.
At that spot, the wood has warped slightly from age, but the dragon eye still gleams with life, as if ready to spring to life and soar into the air. It's an indescribable aura, a testament to the craftsman's dedication and soul.
Shi Guang was lost in thought. He slowly reached out his hand, his white-gloved fingertips lightly brushing against the longan, as if afraid his touch would disturb it.
At that moment, he felt that what he touched was no longer cold wood, but a burning emotion. He seemed to be able to see through this beam and see a similarly young craftsman standing here decades ago, holding his chisel, holding his breath and concentrating, carving his life and faith into this piece of wood, one stroke at a time.
This is a silent dialogue that transcends time and space.
Lu Yu watched this scene quietly from the side. The focused and moving look on Shi Guang's face touched something in his heart. He walked over to Uncle Chen and said solemnly, "Don't worry, old man. We will not only record its shape, but also this god you mentioned, so that it will never disappear."
Uncle Chen slowly withdrew his gaze and, for the first time, looked directly at Lu Yu. Something seemed to melt in those sharp eyes. He was silent for a moment before a low "hmm" uttered from his throat, like an acknowledgment, and also like a trust.
At dusk, the afterglow of the setting sun slanted in through the open door, giving the entire hall a warm and sacred golden light.
When the last piece of data was collected, Shi Guang completed the final check on his tablet computer and made a clear OK gesture to Lu Yu who was not far away.
"Let's call it a day!" Lu Yu's voice was filled with a hint of uncontrollable excitement.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Although everyone's body had been stretched to its limit, their shirts soaked with sweat and then dried by the wind, sticking to their backs, their spirits were incredibly high. They had succeeded; they had accomplished a nearly impossible task.
The team members quickly and quietly packed up all their equipment, leaving no trace. Led by Lu Yu, they walked over to Uncle Chen, who had been waiting at the door. They lined up and collectively bowed deeply to this lonely guardian.
This bow is not only to thank him for the trust and opportunity he has given me today, but also to pay the highest respect to him for his decades of perseverance.
Uncle Chen silently accepted their greeting. A certain wet emotion seemed to well up in his cloudy eyes, but he quickly turned his head away, concealing it. He simply waved his hand at them, signaling that they didn't need to do this.
Then he stood up and, with the same slow and solemn movements as that morning, closed the two heavy vermilion doors again. The creaking sound was heard again, as if drawing a long period to this brief encounter.
As the big lock fell again, the bright light in the hall was once again sealed in darkness.
Lu Yu stepped forward, holding the ancient key in both hands, wanting to return it to Uncle Chen.
Uncle Chen shook his head and didn't answer. He looked past Lu Yu and at the time behind him, and said hoarsely, "The thing...is not finished yet."
He looked back at Lu Yu and continued, "When you finish digitizing that...what's it called..., show it to me. Then I'll take back this key."
After saying that, he didn't give Lu Yu any chance to speak. He turned around and leaned on his crutches, leaving his thin and stubborn back to everyone, and slowly disappeared around the corner of the alley step by step.
The sunlight made his shadow slanted and long.
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