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

The finest materials have been piled up like mountains, their unique fragrance enveloping the entire Jiangjia Village.

But new problems also arose.

Who is qualified and capable of cutting into such a precious "Emperor's Wood"?

Wang Dagou found some of the best carpenters in the county.

But when those experienced craftsmen saw the golden timber in the warehouse, their legs went weak with fear.

They all shook their heads like rattles.

"No way! This thing is too precious! If I accidentally dig the wrong hole with this, I couldn't afford to pay for it even if I sold myself!"

"Mr. Wang, you'd better find someone else! We can't take this job!"

Just when Wang Dagou was at his wit's end, Jiang Chen appeared calm and composed.

He issued the command to the system directly in his mind.

"Use the 'Top Craftsman Team Card'."

[Ding! Successfully used!]

The team of Lu Ban inheritors is expected to arrive at the designated location within 24 hours.

The next day, early in the morning.

When the first rays of sunlight fall on the imposing archway of Jiangjia Village.

Hundreds of burly men, dressed in uniform indigo-blue jackets and cloth shoes with multi-layered soles, carrying rustic wooden toolboxes, appeared in an orderly line at the village entrance.

They all had solemn expressions and steady steps, exuding an aura of craftsmanship that seemed out of place in modern society.

At the very front of the group was an elderly man with white hair and beard, exuding an air of otherworldly wisdom.

The old man leaned on an ebony cane of indeterminate material. Despite his advanced age, his back was ramrod straight, and his eyes shone with a sharp light, as if he could see right through people's hearts.

Ding Xiu, along with his security team, immediately stopped the group of uninvited guests.

"Who are you people?" Ding Xiu's voice was icy, his hand already on the pistol at his waist.

The old man leading the group didn't even glance at Ding Xiu; instead, he turned his gaze to the direction of the old ancestral hall in the distance, which was already being demolished.

His voice, like a resounding bell, carries a power that penetrates the heart.

"We have come here on the orders of our lord to build a masterpiece that will be remembered for generations."

"I am Gongshu Ban, the 76th generation descendant of Lu Ban."

As soon as he finished speaking, Jiang Chen's car slowly drove up.

He got out of the car and nodded slightly to the old man.

"Mr. Gongshu, you must be tired from your journey."

Gongshu Ban then turned his gaze to Jiang Chen. He looked Jiang Chen up and down, and a hint of approval appeared in his originally calm eyes.

"So you're the owner? You're so young, yet your luck is so great. Not bad."

Jiang Chen didn't stand on ceremony with him and led him directly to the huge warehouse where the golden nanmu wood was stored.

The warehouse door was slowly pushed open.

The golden light filling the warehouse and the rich, exotic aroma that wafted over caused the hundreds of burly men following Gongshu Ban to let out a suppressed gasp of amazement.

Even Gongshu Ban himself, upon seeing the pits and valleys filled with mountains of top-quality old Phoebe zhennan wood, had an unprecedented burst of fervent light in his sharp eyes.

He strode forward, reached out, and caressed the warm, smooth wood repeatedly, as if stroking a lover's skin.

"Good timber! Excellent timber!"

Gongshu Ban was so excited that his beard was trembling.

"I've only ever seen a thousand-year-old golden nanmu tree of such quality in my entire life, and only in ancient books!"

"It is an incredible stroke of luck that the owner was able to gather them here!"

He turned around, faced Jiang Chen, and solemnly cupped his hands in greeting.

"Rest assured, Master!"

"With such a divine tree, to use even a single iron nail would be the greatest insult to the ancestors of the Lu Ban school!"

"This ancestral hall, I will use all my life's learning, employing only mortise and tenon joints, to build for the owner a magnificent and timeless hall, the first of its kind in China!"

With Gongshu Ban's assurance, Jiang Chen was completely relieved.

That very day, this mysterious team of craftsmen officially took over the construction of the ancestral hall.

They did not use any modern power tools; all the processes were carried out using traditional tools that had been passed down for thousands of years.

Hundreds of craftsmen, with clear division of labor and excellent teamwork.

The scene of the groundbreaking ceremony was not like a noisy construction site, but rather like a smooth and flowing art performance.

The huge log was lifted onto the wooden frame by dozens of strong men working together.

The craftsman in charge of cutting materials holds an ordinary-looking ink line and marks the position with perfect accuracy.

Immediately afterwards, several shirtless men pushed the huge frame saw, accompanied by neat chants, and precisely cut the incredibly hard nanmu wood as if slicing tofu.

Wood chips flew everywhere, golden threads shimmered, and a rich aroma permeated every corner of the village.

The carving master's knife flew across the wood, and auspicious patterns of dragons and phoenixes and unicorns gradually emerged, lifelike, as if they were about to come to life at any moment.

Gongshu Ban himself was personally responsible for the design of the most crucial mortise and tenon structure.

He doesn't need blueprints; all the structural diagrams are in his head.

He called out the dimensions and names, which his disciples quickly wrote down and then distributed to the various groups.

The mortise and tenon joints, the chiseling of holes—every movement was executed with extreme precision.

Those intricate mortise and tenon structures are like precise mechanical components, interlocking seamlessly.

This incredible scene quickly attracted several internet celebrities who came to Jiangjia Village to ride the wave of popularity.

They hid on the outskirts of the construction site, holding up their phones, broadcasting live, and shouting at the top of their lungs into the camera.

"Family members! Did you see that?! This is absolutely a miracle in architectural history!"

"Handmade! No nails! I feel like I'm not watching a house being built, but a living demonstration of intangible cultural heritage!"

"Brothers! Let's get some gifts! I need to pool my money to become an apprentice! Once I learn this skill, why would I need to go to work?"

The chat room went completely crazy.

Holy crap! Is this for real? Are there really people like this in modern society?!

Isn't this a million times better than those dilapidated concrete buildings?

My mom asked me why I was kneeling while looking at my phone!

Thanks to the tireless efforts of hundreds of top craftsmen.

The outline of the new ancestral hall rose from the ground at an astonishing speed.

Huge golden nanmu beams and pillars were erected one by one.

The beams and columns are joined together by a complex dougong (bracket set) and mortise and tenon structure, with each layer overlapping the others.

The stability and grandeur built purely by the strength of the wood itself are far more awe-inspiring than any reinforced concrete structure.

Wang Dagou wandered around the construction site every day, itching to see what was happening.

That day, when no one was looking, he secretly picked up a piece of leftover carving material and hid it in his pocket.

"Hehe, take this thing back and have someone make it into a bracelet. It'll make you look good when you wear it out."

He had just turned around and hadn't even taken two steps.

He was hit on the back of the head.

Gongshu Ban appeared behind him without him noticing, his ebony cane pressing against the back of his head.

The old man puffed out his beard and glared, his face filled with heartache and indignation.

"What a waste! Absolutely a waste!"

"Even a single shaving of this sacred wood should be used in the ancestral hall; how dare you, a mere wretch, use it for such vulgar things!"

Wang Dagou was so frightened that he trembled and quickly handed over the scrap piece, then slunk away.

Jiang Chen stood on a small hill in the distance, watching the ancestral hall taking shape, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, growing more magnificent every day, his heart filled with anticipation.

He could almost see how astonishing the building, which embodies the finest materials, the best craftsmanship, and the hopes of his family, would be when it was finally completed.