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

"Chen-ge'er, come here."

Jiang Wanshan's voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet ancestral hall, every word was clear and distinct.

Jiang Chen stepped forward and stood in front of the old man.

All eyes were on the two of them.

The old man took the brass key out of his pocket and turned it over under the light.

The key is small, about the length of two fingers side by side. The bronze color has been worn smooth and shiny, and the original patterns are no longer visible. Only the seal script of the character "江" can still be faintly discerned on the key head.

The old man stuffed the key directly into Jiang Chen's hand.

"Take it!"

The old man's voice was hoarse, but he spoke each word slowly and deliberately.

"This is the root passed down through four generations of the Jiang family!"

Jiang Chen closed his fingers and gripped the key.

It feels cool to the touch and is quite heavy, much heavier than it looks.

Before he could even speak, Jiang Jianguo, who was standing next to him, became anxious.

This honest, 52-year-old man, who usually doesn't like to talk much, was rubbing his rough hands together, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Father, how old is Chenzi? Is it safe to give this to him?"

Jiang Jianguo spoke in a low voice, afraid of offending his father.

"I'm not saying Chenzi is bad, I just feel that this matter... isn't this a bit too early?"

His voice grew softer and softer, and the last few words were almost muffled in his throat.

"Snapped!"

The copper pipe slammed heavily on the octagonal table.

Jiang Wanshan's face was long and drawn, his cloudy old eyes glaring at his good-for-nothing nephew.

"You don't know anything!"

The old man raised his voice, startling Jiang Jianguo so much that he shrank back.

"If the Jiang family had been handed over to you, those spendthrift bastards would have sold it all off long ago!"

Jiang Jianguo's lips trembled twice, and he didn't dare to reply with a single word.

He looked down at his toes, wishing he could bury his head in the ground.

Jiang Jianping, who was standing next to Jiang Jianguo, tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "Brother Jianguo, don't say anything. The old man is right."

Jiang Jianguo nodded with a bitter face.

There were hundreds of people in the ancestral hall, but not a single one made a sound.

Jiang Chen gripped the key in his hand, his thumb rubbing the blurry character "Jiang" on the key head.

He didn't refuse, nor did he put on any polite formalities.

He simply stuffed the keys into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Great-Grandpa, don't worry."

Jiang Chen's voice wasn't loud, but it could be heard clearly throughout the entire ancestral hall.

"With me here, no one can touch a single brick in Jiangjia Village."

The old man stared at him for a full five seconds.

Then, he slowly nodded.

The nod was slight, but something lit up in those cloudy old eyes.

It's a sense of relief after finally handing over the burdens accumulated throughout one's life.

"it is good."

The old man only said one word.

Then he waved his hand, his voice returning to its usual calm and steady tone.

"Alright, everyone, disperse. We'll arrange the year-end meeting another time, Chen-ge. We've made enough of a scene today, go do what you were doing."

Several hundred people walked out one after another.

As Jiang Mancang left, he glanced back at the empty spot in the old man's hand—the spot where he had just put the keys.

He didn't say anything, but quickened his pace and turned towards his own land as soon as he left the house.

Jiang Shitou squeezed out of the crowd and grabbed Jiang Xiaobei, who was about to leave.

"Xiao...Xiao Bei, when Brother Chen took that key just now, did you see? His hand...wasn't even shaking."

Jiang Xiaobei nodded, his voice muffled: "I saw it."

"If it were me... my hands would definitely shake." Jiang Shitou touched his bald head and chuckled sheepishly.

Most of the people have left.

Only Jiang Chen, the old man, and Su Qing, who was standing not far from the door, remained in the ancestral hall.

Su Qing hesitated for a moment and glanced at Jiang Chen.

Jiang Chen waved his hand at her, meaning "You go back first".

Su Qing's mouth moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she didn't speak. She turned around and tiptoed out.

Once everyone had gone far away, the ancestral hall became completely quiet.

In the distance, the sounds of villagers talking and footsteps drifted away, growing fainter and fainter.

The old man then turned his head and lowered his voice.

"Brother Chen, stay here for a moment."

His gaze passed over Jiang Chen and landed on the gate of the ancestral hall.

"Big Gou!"

Wang Dagou suddenly popped out from outside the threshold, clearly having been listening intently for a while.

"arrive!"

"Close the door."

The old man paused, then added a sentence.

"Don't let a single fly in."

Wang Dagou immediately slammed the two heavy wooden doors shut with a creak, then stepped outside, blocking the way like a door god.

Several villagers who were walking slowly behind him wanted to look back, but Wang Dagou glared at them and sent them back.

"Alright, everyone, go do what you were doing!"

Wang Dagou yelled at people to hurry up.

"Brother Chen and the old man have serious business to discuss. Anyone who dares to eavesdrop here won't get any spare ribs tomorrow!"

That shout is more effective than anything else.

With a "whoosh," not a single person remained at the doorway.

Inside the ancestral hall.

It was so quiet that you could hear the hissing sound of the tobacco burning out of the copper pipe.

The old man tapped his pipe on the armrest of his chair and stood up.

He took small, shuffling steps, slowly walking around the octagonal table and several rows of benches, heading towards the backyard of the ancestral hall.

Jiang Chen followed behind.

The backyard of the ancestral hall was much smaller than the front hall, with walls on three sides and a solid open space in the middle paved with blue bricks. Moss grew on the ground, and thin weeds sprouted from the cracks between the bricks in a few places.

The old man walked to the left side of the altar and stopped.

He lowered his head and counted the bricks.

Counting from the base of the wall inwards, the first piece, the second piece, the third piece.

His cane touched the third blue brick.

"This one."

The old man raised his head and looked at Jiang Chen.

"Use a little force and pry this brick open."

Jiang Chen squatted down and examined the brick carefully.

It was indistinguishable from the surrounding bricks. Same size, same color, same degree of wear.

If the old man hadn't pointed it out himself, no one would have given it a second glance.

Jiang Chen stood up, rummaged through the pile of junk in the corner of the backyard, and found an iron rod about a meter long.

The stick was leftover material from the construction of the ancestral hall. It was rusty, but hard enough.

He walked back and stuck the iron rod into the crack of the blue brick.

The brick joints were very tight; it took several attempts to insert the iron rod, barely managing to push it in half an inch.

Jiang Chen gripped the iron rod with both hands and pressed it down sharply.

"Crack—"

A muffled thud.

The heavy blue brick bounced up from the ground.

Jiang Chen reached out and flipped the brick to one side.

Beneath the brick, a black hole the size of a fist was exposed.

The soil around the cave entrance was dry and white, without a trace of moisture. At the bottom of the cave entrance, a dark red copper mechanism could be vaguely seen.

There is a keyhole in the very center of the mechanism.

The old man pointed to the hole.

"Insert the key from your pocket and turn it three and a half times to the left."

Jiang Chen took out the brass key from the inside pocket of his jacket, squatted down, aligned the key with the hole, and slowly inserted it.

Perfectly fitted.

He turned it to the left as the old man had instructed.

a circle.

Two laps.

Three laps.

Three and a half laps.

"Click—"

A dull mechanical noise came from underground, like a heavy stone being pushed aside.

Followed by.

The bluestone ground beneath my feet began to vibrate.

It's not an earthquake, but a very regular, slow, mechanical displacement.

About two steps away from Jiang Chen, two adjacent bluestone slabs slid apart at an extremely slow speed.

The sound of the stone slabs rubbing against each other was deep and grating, and was particularly clear in the empty backyard.

A narrow stone staircase emerged from the darkness of the ground.

The steps were steep, just wide enough for one person to pass sideways, and the lower part was completely swallowed by darkness, with no end in sight.

A cool breeze rose from the entrance of the secret passage, carrying a heavy smell of earth and mothballs.

The smell was as if it had been sealed away for decades and was only now seeing the outside air for the first time.

Jiang Chen squatted at the entrance of the secret passage and peeked inside.

Total darkness.

He raised his head and looked at the old man.

"Great-Grandpa, what kind of good stuff is hidden down there?"