I couldn't take it anymore; when I went home for Chinese New Year, the family genealogy book ha

Wang Dagou pushed the ancestral hall door shut with a loud creak.

The sound of the wind outside was completely shut out through the door.

No one spoke.

Liu Cuifen, Sun Yumei, Jiang Jianwen, and Jiang Jianmin—those people who ran out carrying tin boxes without even putting on their shoes—left their seats empty, one of the benches crooked, and a half-finished cup of hot tea on the table, still steaming.

Jiang Jianping sat in the corner, his hands on his knees, head down, staring at the empty seats, not moving for a long time.

This 42-year-old man had dark skin, calloused hands, and wore a worn-out work suit his whole life.

He grew up with those people, playing together in the mud at the village entrance and worshipping their ancestors together in the ancestral hall.

After a long silence, he raised his head, looked at Jiang Chen, and said in a muffled voice.

"We're family after all, Brother Chen. Giving them these three hundred million is too cheap for those ungrateful wretches."

Jiang Chen walked over and patted his fourth uncle on the shoulder, the force neither too light nor too heavy.

"Fourth Uncle, this is called paying for peace and quiet."

He sat down on the stool next to him, lowering his voice, but everyone around him could hear him clearly.

"The Chu family isn't stupid. They've set their sights on Jiangjia Village, but they won't just storm in; they'll find a way to slip through the cracks in the village."

"Those few people are the gaps."

"The money I spent sealing up all the gaps today is much more worthwhile than having someone hollow out the inside later."

"The door is welded shut, I feel relieved."

Jiang Jianping opened his mouth, then sighed and nodded without saying anything more.

Jiang Jianguo, standing next to him, was holding a teacup, his hand trembling slightly, and the tea was almost spilling out.

He was known as a kind-hearted man in the family, and today's drama both terrified and exhilarating for him.

At this moment, no one noticed that Jiang Wanshan, sitting in the central armchair, had not moved at all.

The 78-year-old man stood ramrod straight, his copper pipe resting on his lap, his eyes fixed on the empty seats, lost in thought.

Everyone thought he would say something, perhaps to commemorate that past relationship, or to lament the fickleness of human nature.

The old man didn't say anything.

He stood up and slowly walked towards the altar deep inside the ancestral hall.

On the altar are the ancestral tablets of the Jiang family. The incense in the incense burner has burned down to almost nothing, and wisps of smoke drift lazily through the air.

The old man took out a brass key from his waist.

The key looked extremely old, its copper color worn smooth, and the keyhole was the kind of old-fashioned hidden compartment used in ancestral halls.

Jiang Mancang jumped up from the stool, craning his neck as far as he could.

"That's...that's the lock on the old family genealogy book!"

His voice trembled noticeably, and the elderly people around him immediately turned their heads, their eyes changing.

In this village where clan values ​​are very strong, the Jiang family's century-old genealogy is not something that is easily produced.

Revising a genealogy is a major event each time.

Each time I open it, it reveals something even bigger.

The lock on the hidden compartment turned gently, making a soft "click" sound.

The old man presented a thick, thread-bound book with both hands.

The cover was dark brown with frayed edges, and the paper was yellowed and blackened, emitting a musty smell mixed with the odor of mothballs.

It's an old family genealogy.

The Jiang family bloodline spanning hundreds of years is recorded in this book.

The ancestral hall was completely silent.

Even Jiang Shitou, who is usually carefree, was silent. He stood shirtless in the crowd with his hands hanging at his sides and a rare solemn expression on his face.

The old man placed the family genealogy on the altar in front of the shrine, then went to the cinnabar box next to it and dipped a brush in it.

The red ink seeped down the tip of the brush and condensed into a full vermilion red dot on the belly of the brush.

He put on the reading glasses hanging around his neck, and turned the pages of the family genealogy book, one after another.

I turned to the page that recorded the eldest son's family.

Jiang Jianwen's name is on top, written in regular script stroke by stroke during the last revision of the genealogy. Next to it are his birth date and generation.

The brush fell.

A thick red line marked Jiang Jianwen's name from beginning to end.

Without hesitation, without pause.

"Liu Cuifen".

Another red line.

"Jiang Jianmin. Sun Yumei. Jiang Haoran."

Cross them out one by one.

The vermilion ink seeped into the yellowed pages, a shocking sight.

The old man's hands were very steady.

After marking the last name, he straightened up, his voice low and resonant, echoing in the ancestral hall.

"Those who are disloyal and unjust, greedy for personal gain, and forget their ancestors shall be stripped of their right to perform ancestral rites and expelled from the family genealogy!"

"If I cannot return to my ancestral home in this life, I will not be buried in the ancestral grave after death!"

Zhou Suqin covered her mouth, her eyes reddening.

She was the wife of her fourth uncle, Jiang Jianping. She was honest all her life, but she was always suppressed by those families and could never hold her head up. When she heard these words today, her nose tingled, and she tried to hold back her tears, but in the end, she couldn't hold them back.

Jiang Huixin, who was next to her, quietly handed her a tissue and kept her head down without saying a word.

After the old man finished writing the names, he didn't close the family genealogy book.

His fingers turned the pages one by one.

After turning through dozens of pages recording the achievements of past ancestors, and several pages recording the records of successive family heads, the story finally stopped at—

On a brand new, blank sheet of paper.

The paper on this page is newer than the others, with no wear or tear on the edges, and it's completely clean with nothing written on it.

This is the page in the family genealogy where only the heads of each generation are entitled to a separate biography.

The ancestral hall became even quieter.

Jiang Mancang couldn't help but whisper to Jiang Jianguo beside him, "Brother Jianguo, what... what is this about...?"

Jiang Jianguo's throat bobbed, and he lowered his voice to a very low level: "Open a separate page."

"That's...only the successive leaders can..."

Jiang Mancang didn't finish his sentence; he swallowed the rest.

The old man raised his head, his gaze passing over the offering table, through the crowd, and landing on Jiang Chen.

He beckoned.

"Chen-ge'er, come here."

Jiang Chen put away his usual carefree attitude.

He stood up from his chair, straightened his collar, and walked forward solemnly.

My footsteps landed on the bluestone floor, each step steady.

Everyone in the ancestral hall stood up.

It wasn't something anyone told us to do; it just happened naturally, and everyone felt they should stand at this moment.

Jiang Jianguo stood, Jiang Jianping stood, Jiang Mancang stood, Jiang Shitou stood, Jiang Huixin stood, Zhou Tiejun stood, and Cao Dachui stood.

Even Hu Lahua, who is usually nonchalant, straightened her back at this moment and quietly hid the boning knife in her hand behind her back.

Jiang Chen walked to the offering table and bowed slightly to the old man.

This action is rarely seen in Jiang Chen.

Jiang Wanshan looked at the young man in front of him and remained silent for a moment.

He has seen too many people in his life: those who run away, those who speculate, those who fawn, and those who betray.

There is only one person like Jiang Chen.

The old man spoke slowly, each word spoken with great emphasis.

"Our Jiangjia Village has been poor for hundreds of years."

"It's you, kid, who used real money and tough guts to straighten the spine of our entire village."

"Today, I, this old man, will make the decision."

He solemnly handed the brush, which was dipped in vermilion ink, to Jiang Chen.

"You will be the one to open a new page in the Jiang family genealogy of this new era."

"From this day forward, you, Jiang Chen, are the sole person in charge of Jiang Family Village."

"The entire clan follows your lead."