3: Hidden Treasure on the Beam

It's all trivial nonsense! Looking at this information, Li Qinghe felt as if a cat were scratching at his heart.

An immortal Cultivation Technique! A Qi-Guiding Method! That roll of old Family Genealogy hidden on the crossbeam of the ancestral hall! That was what he truly wanted!

He remained calm and composed, acting like a child who had truly just recovered from a serious illness. Most of the time, he stayed quietly in his room, occasionally soaking up the sun in the courtyard, yet his gaze would always involuntarily drift toward those low, solemn buildings in the center of the village—the Li Family Ancestral Hall.

The gates of the ancestral hall were tightly closed during the day, opening only for ancestor worship during festivals.

At night? No one went near it at night. The villagers said the Yin Qi there was heavy, and children didn't dare run that way after dark.

How could he get in? How could he climb onto that high crossbeam? How could he get the Family Genealogy? And once he had them, how could he channel the Lunar Essence at the third quarter of the midnight hour?

Questions swirled in his mind. He needed an opportunity, he needed time, and more importantly, he needed to evade everyone's eyes and ears.

He was currently just a ten-year-old boy who had just "recovered from illness"; any unusual behavior could draw unnecessary attention.

On the third night, the opportunity seemed to have arrived.

The moon was large and bright, hanging like a silver plate in the ink-blue sky. Its cold brilliance spilled down, bathing the small Li Family Village in a hazy glow.

It was already late into the night. His family members, exhausted from a day's labor, had long since fallen into a deep sleep. Heavy snoring came from his father Li Dashan's room next door.

The four brothers lay on their hard little earthen bed. Aside from Li Qinghe, the other three were snoring loudly.

Li Qinghe's eyes were wide open, devoid of any sleepiness.

[Ding!]

A familiar notification sound rang in his mind.

[Today's Intel (Daily Life): Seventh Great-Uncle, who guards the ancestral hall, caught a slight cold last night. His coughing has worsened tonight, and he needs to take loquat leaf water from the third drawer of the kitchen cabinet. He will definitely be in a deep sleep before the hour of the rat, snoring like thunder. The dog hole on the west side of the ancestral hall's back wall has been loosened and enlarged by wild dogs digging for food; a ten-year-old child can barely squeeze through.]

It's here!

Li Qinghe's heart skipped a beat, feeling as if it were gripped tight by an invisible hand then suddenly released. Blood instantly surged through his entire body.

He held his breath and listened intently.

All was silent. Only the occasional faint sound of distant dog barks and the steady, powerful snoring of his three older brothers nearby could be heard. There was no movement from his parents' room next door either.

He soundlessly lifted the thin, old quilt covering him and stepped barefoot onto the cold, rough earthen floor. A chill shot up from the soles of his feet.

His movements were very light, like a nocturnal cat, as he fumbled to put on his equally tattered coarse cloth outer garment.

Moonlight filtered through the small wooden window lattice, casting mottled shadows on the ground.

He carefully pulled open the creaky wooden door of his room, slipped out, and then used his hand to extremely slowly and bit by bit pull the door shut, trying his best not to make a sound.

The cold moonlight filled the small courtyard.

The water vat, farm tools, and woodpile all cast long, distorted shadows on the ground.

Li Qinghe's heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst through his chest.

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, making him shiver slightly but also suppressing some of his tension.

He stuck to the shadows along the base of the walls and tiptoed, step by step, toward the ancestral hall.

The moonlight stretched his shadow very long on the silent, deserted village path, making him look like a sneaking thief.

The dark silhouette of the ancestral hall appeared exceptionally tall and eerie under the moonlight.

He circled to the back of the ancestral hall, where weeds grew in profusion.

Sure enough, at the base of the west wall near the ground, there was a dirt hole that had clearly been dug loose. The opening was partially hidden by several half-collapsed broken bricks and withered grass.

He crouched down and used his hands to push aside the obstacles. A hole even larger than described in the intel was revealed. It was pitch black and emitted the distinct fishy, musky odor of earth and animal dens.

This was the place.

Without the slightest hesitation, Li Qinghe lay flat and used both hands and feet to crawl into that dark hole.

The rough edges of the bricks scraped against his clothes and arms, bringing a slight stinging pain.

The inside was narrow and filled with a heavy smell of dust and mold. It choked him so much he almost coughed, but he covered his mouth tightly.

When he finally crawled out of the narrow dog hole and stood up again, he was already inside the ancestral hall.

It was pitch black inside, with only a few strands of pale moonlight struggling through the gaps in the damaged roof tiles above, casting several weak pillars of light.

Countless tiny dust motes floated in the air, drifting slowly within the pillars of light.

The large, blurred ancestral tablets were lined up indistinctly on the altar in front of him, like a group of silent black giants looking down from above at this uninvited intruder.

An invisible, heavy pressure instantly descended, making Li Qinghe feel a bit breathless.

He subconsciously shrank his neck.

Just then, a loud snore clearly drifted out from a small side compartment.

"Hoo—pah—! Hoo—pah—!"

One after another, the rhythm was steady, making the air vibrate slightly.

It was Seventh Great-Uncle! The intel was right; he really was in a deep sleep!

Li Qinghe's heart settled slightly. Using those few weak strands of moonlight, he tried his best to identify his direction.

His gaze eagerly turned toward the massive crossbeams supporting the roof in the main hall.

The light was too dim; he could only see a blur of high-up shadows.

The intel said: Below the third rafter toward the east on the main beam of the central hall... He strained his neck, squinting his eyes as he tried to identify those thick beams in the weak light.

The light was too dark; the beams and rafters all merged into heavy shadows, and he could only barely make out a general outline.

Toward the east... the third one... He shifted his steps bit by bit, trying not to make any sound. His feet stepped on thick layers of accumulated dust, leaving shallow prints. Dust entered his nostrils, making him want to sneeze, but he covered his mouth and forced it back, until tears almost came to his eyes.

Found it!

The east side! Counting from the corner, the third cross-timber that was much thinner than the main beam—a rafter!

In the shadow where that rafter met the main beam, there seemed to be a depression deeper than its surroundings!

Li Qinghe's heart jumped into his throat.

He looked left and right, his gaze falling on a tilted, dust-covered old offering table in the corner.

He tiptoed over and, using all his strength, carefully moved the heavy wooden table.

The wood rubbed against the floor, making an extremely faint creaking sound that was perfectly covered by Seventh Great-Uncle's thunderous snoring in the silence.

He dragged the offering table directly beneath that rafter and shakily climbed up.

The tabletop was cold and the dust was choking. He stood on his tiptoes and stretched his arms, reaching forcefully toward that dark depression beneath the rafter.

There was something there!

A hard, cylindrical object!

Wild joy filled his heart. Holding his breath, his fingers hooked the edge of the object, and he pulled it out bit by bit with extreme care.

With every movement, dust from the rafter showered down, making it hard for him to keep his eyes open.

Finally! A heavy, cylindrical object covered in slippery moss and thick dust was forcefully pulled out by him from the gap between the rafter and the main beam!

It felt cold and heavy in his hands, emitting an indescribable odor that was a mix of decayed wood, moisture, and earth.

Li Qinghe held this dirty "treasure" as if he were holding a red-hot iron, his heart drumming wildly in his chest.

The sound made his eardrums ache. He scrambled down from the offering table, his calves trembling when his feet hit the solid ground.

He didn't dare stay. Holding that heavy roll of Family Genealogy, he hunched over and, just like when he arrived, moved along the base of the wall to the dog hole at the back of the ancestral hall.

He first pushed the Family Genealogy out, then struggled to crawl out himself. The rough bricks scraped his skin again, causing a burning pain, but he didn't care at all.

Breathing the cold air outside filled with the scent of plants and trees once more, Li Qinghe felt as if he had seen the light of day again.