Chapter Seven
The phone rang like a midnight tolling bell, sharp and jarring, pulling me abruptly back to reality from my chaotic thoughts. The screen flashed “Mother,” and I hesitated for a moment, my heart racing as if sensing something ominous. I pressed the answer button, and my mother’s voice trembled on the other end, laced with an uncontrollable excitement and… fear? “Xiao Yu… your grandmother… she came to me in a dream!”
I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head, a chill rushing from my feet to the top of my head, goosebumps instantly covering my body. “Grandma? What… what did she say?” My voice was dry, barely able to form complete syllables.
“She said… she said she has forgiven you, and that you shouldn’t blame yourself anymore…” My mother’s voice choked with emotion, as if she might break down and cry at any moment. I could almost see her pale face, bloodshot eyes, and trembling lips.
My hand gripped the phone tightly, knuckles turning white as a storm of emotions churned within me. The forgiveness from my ancestor? It came so suddenly, so unbelievably, yet it felt so heavy that it left me breathless. I struggled to steady my trembling voice and replied as calmly as I could, “I understand, Mom. Thank you for telling me.”
After hanging up the phone, I slumped helplessly into the chair. The room was eerily silent, save for the old clock on the wall ticking away like a grim drumbeat, striking at my nerves with each tick. My grandmother’s dream… was it real? Or merely a subconscious comfort I had conjured? I couldn’t be sure; this sudden news left me more confused and anxious than ever.
I got up and walked to my desk, mechanically opening the long-dusty Genealogy. The yellowed pages resembled ancient parchment, exuding the scent of time. They were filled with records of our family’s history spanning hundreds of years; each name represented a once-vibrant life and a buried past. My gaze lingered on my grandmother's name, an indescribable sadness and… fear swelling within me.
I began to read the entries in the Genealogy word by word, hoping to find some clue or thread that could explain everything. Suddenly, a passage written in Cinnabar caught my eye like a lightning bolt piercing through the dark night: “The ancestors were wronged by treacherous men and died unjustly; their descendants must remember this matter to clear their names!”
These words struck me like thunder in my mind, leaving me dizzy. Could it be… that the anger of my ancestor stemmed not from my negligence but from that hidden injustice? I felt as though I had brushed against the edge of the truth but was shrouded in a fog that obscured everything.
I immediately dialed the old man’s number, eager to learn more. “Elder, I want to know more about my ancestors, especially about their unjust deaths.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end before his deep, hoarse voice responded with a hint of barely detectable surprise: “You… already know?”
“I only know some vague records; I want to know more details.” My tone was firm, fueled by an uncontrollable desire to unravel this family secret and seek justice for my ancestors.
"Some things become more dangerous the more you know..." The old man's tone was profound, like an ancient prophecy that sent a chill down my spine. "Are you sure you want to continue your investigation?"
"I am sure!" My response was resolute, without a hint of hesitation. "I must know the truth, for my Ancestor and for myself!"
There was silence on the other end of the line for a long while, before the old man finally spoke slowly, "Tomorrow night, at the usual place."
After hanging up, I walked to the window and gazed at the darkening sky outside. The night fell like a vast black curtain, enveloping the world in darkness. My heart was filled with both anticipation and fear. Tomorrow night, I would uncover my family's secrets and face unknown dangers...
I couldn't sleep all night, my mind racing with the words from the Genealogy and the old man's meaningful tone. The next evening, I arrived punctually at the old man's residence. He sat under dim light, holding an ancient book, his gaze deep and mysterious as if he could see through everything.
"You've come," he said slowly, his tone carrying a weight of seriousness.
"I have come," I replied as I stepped in front of him, trying to maintain my composure, though my voice trembled slightly. "I want to know... the truth."
"What do you want to know?" The old man set down the ancient book and looked at me intently, as if trying to pierce through my soul.
"Everything." I took a deep breath and summoned my courage to speak. "About the injustice faced by my Ancestor, about the scoundrel who framed them, about..."
"About your connection to them?" The old man suddenly interrupted me, his tone inquisitive.
I was taken aback, confusion flooding my mind. "What connection do I have with them?"
The old man smiled mysteriously. "You will find out tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" I asked, even more confused. "What will happen tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, your Ancestor will tell you personally," the old man replied before closing his eyes and falling silent.
I gazed at the old man's mysterious smile, my heart filled with questions and unease. What would happen tomorrow? What would my Ancestor reveal to me? With a mix of anticipation and fear, I left the old man's dwelling and walked along the darkened path, my mind swirling with thoughts. Tomorrow, I would uncover the secrets of my family and confront an unknown fate...
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