Not Allowed in the Ancestral Hall

The rain had stopped.

Dark clouds still pressed down over Heaven Dou City, refusing to disperse, like a heavy curtain shrouding the entire city in a gray, murky twilight.

In a side chamber of the rear courtyard at the Seven Treasures Glazed Sect's branch office.

Yin Suzhi knelt before a wooden daybed.

A small body lay on the bed, covered by a white cloth. The outline beneath the fabric was so small, so small that it made one's heart tighten.

She had stopped crying.

It was not that she did not want to, but that she had cried until she was dry.

Her eyes were so red and swollen she could barely open them, and her throat felt as if it had been scraped by sandpaper, even her breath carrying the metallic tang of blood.

Her hand remained pressed beneath the white cloth, clutching Ning Zha's icy little hand.

That hand had already stiffened.

Yet she refused to let go.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.

Yin Suzhi did not look up.

The door was pushed open.

Ning Jing walked in, followed by two men.

One was the Great Elder of the collateral branch, Ning Huaiyuan, over sixty years old with white hair and a white beard, leaning on an ebony cane. The other was the Second Elder, Ning Qingtang, slightly plump with a round face, looking much younger than Ning Huaiyuan.

Ning Jing stood at the doorway, not venturing further inside.

His gaze fell upon the white cloth on the daybed, his Adam's apple bobbing once before he looked away.

"Suzhi." Ning Huaiyuan spoke first, his tone neither heavy nor light, like someone making small talk while visiting relatives. "My condolences."

Yin Suzhi did not respond.

Ning Huaiyuan did not mind; he leaned on his cane, walked to the only chair in the room, and sat down, gesturing for Ning Qingtang to sit as well.

Ning Qingtang pulled up a stool and sat down beside him.

Ning Jing remained standing by the door.

"I came today to clarify one matter with you two."

Ning Huaiyuan sipped his tea, smacked his lips, and set the cup down.

"The elders of the clan deliberated for an hour just now. Regarding the arrangements for Ning Zha's funeral, a conclusion has been reached."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Yin Suzhi's back, and continued unhurriedly.

"Ning Zha's body is not to be kept for long, and it is strictly forbidden from being interred in the Ning family ancestral hall."

A deathly silence filled the room.

Yin Suzhi's shoulders shuddered violently.

She finally lifted her head.

Her face was as pale as paper, dark circles bruised beneath her eyes, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. In just a few short hours, she seemed to have aged ten years.

"...What?"

Her voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable, like a string about to snap.

"Great Elder, what... what did you say?"

Ning Huaiyuan repeated himself, his tone devoid of any ripples.

"Ning Zha's body will not enter the ancestral hall. This is the unanimous decision of the clan elders."

Yin Suzhi's body swayed violently.

She looked at Ning Huaiyuan, her eyes filled with disbelief.

"Great Elder! Why is this?!"

Her voice was sorrowful and desperate.

"Why! My son is also of the Ning bloodline! His surname is Ning! He is a descendant of the Ning family!"

She looked up, her eyes filled with a near-collapsing plea.

"He was only seven... now that he is gone... why can he not even enter the ancestral hall? Why can he not even have a peaceful resting place after death?!"

"Why?"

Ning Qingtang spoke up. He crossed his legs, folded his hands over his stomach, and his tone carried an undisguised impatience.

"Woman of the Yin clan, you ask why?"

"Then why don't you look at the good deeds he committed!"

Ning Qingtang pointed toward the door, his voice suddenly rising.

"He offended someone from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan! He nearly caused the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan to become completely hostile toward our Seven Treasures Glazed Sect! Do you have any idea what the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon side will think after Yu Kun returns today? Do you have any idea that if the main sect investigates this, our entire collateral branch will be held accountable?!"

He grew more agitated as he spoke, spittle flying from his lips.

"A piece of trash who hasn't even awakened his martial soul, yet he caused such a massive disaster! How much of his mess have we had to clean up? And we still haven't finished!"

Yin Suzhi trembled all over, her lips moving as if to say something, but Ning Qingtang cut her off with a single sentence.

"Furthermore—"

Ning Qingtang raised a hand, gesturing vaguely as he emphasized his tone.

"Furthermore, everyone here isn't deaf. Today on the street, the words he spoke himself were heard clearly by hundreds of people present."

He began to mimic him in a mocking, affected tone:

"'I slice my flesh to return to my father, and strip my bones to return to my mother. From this day forth, I have no further ties with the Ning family.'"

Ning Qingtang spread his hands, feigning a look of helplessness.

"We didn't force him to say those words. He severed the ties in public himself, and he chose his own path. Since he said with his own mouth that he had no further ties to the Ning family, then there are no further ties."

"Since he is no longer a member of the Ning family—"

He looked at Yin Suzhi, his gaze as indifferent as if he were looking at an expired ledger.

"Then by what right should he be buried in the Ning family ancestral hall?"

Yin Suzhi's body stiffened where she stood.

Her mouth hung open, as if someone had gripped her throat, and for a long time, she could not utter a single complete syllable.

"He... he was only seven years old..."

Her voice shattered into a breathy whisper.

"He was forced... he was pushed to that point... that was why he said those things..."

"Forced?" Ning Qingtang sneered. "Who forced him? Who told him to play the hero? Who told him to run off and attack someone from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan? A piece of trash without a martial soul, insisting on acting like some kind of hero—that's just reaping what he sowed!"

"Enough."

Ning Huaiyuan tapped his cane, interrupting Ning Qingtang.

He looked at Yin Suzhi and sighed. His tone was not particularly vicious; it even carried a hint of elder-like "kindness."

Yet, that kindness was more chilling than Ning Qingtang's cold sarcasm.

"Suzhi," he said slowly. "It is not that we elders are heartless. It is simply that this matter has too many implications, and there are many repercussions to manage. If Ning Zha's spirit tablet were placed in the ancestral hall, and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan were to investigate and see that we had set up a tablet and offered incense for him... it would be a clear declaration that we, the Seven Treasures Glazed Sect, approve of what he did."

"This precedent cannot be set."

His tone was calm and firm, as if he were stating an unchangeable fact.

"Furthermore, Ning Zha himself severed his clan ties. Regardless of the reason he said those words, he said them. He cut his flesh with a blade and severed his kin in public. This happened under the eyes of hundreds of people in Heaven Dou City; it cannot be taken back."

Yin Suzhi's tears welled up again.

She had thought she had cried herself dry.

Apparently not.

Apparently, these tears were endless.

"Then you... tell me where I should bury my son..."

Her voice was now low, like a whisper, her breath as thin as a thread.

"Then tell me... my Zha'er... where should I bury him..."

Ning Huaiyuan picked up his teacup, blew away the foam, and did not answer.

Ning Qingtang, however, was blunt.

"Bury him wherever you want."

He waved his hand, his tone as casual as if he were discussing a trivial matter.

"Just don't bury him anywhere near the branch office."

"The further away, the better. And do it quickly; don't drag it out."

This sentence was like a dull blade, scraping against Yin Suzhi's heart again and again.

She knelt on the floor, her breathing stopping for several seconds.

Then, as if the last bone had been pulled from her body, she slowly collapsed onto the floor.

She did not cry again.

She did not beg again.

There was no sound left at all.

Ning Huaiyuan set down his teacup and stood up.

"Ning Jing, handle the funeral arrangements. Dispose of it cleanly and quickly; leave no loose ends."

He walked out leaning on his cane, pausing for a moment as he passed Yin Suzhi.

"Suzhi, the dead cannot return to life. You still have two other sons to care for. Try to look on the bright side."

Then he stepped out the door.

Ning Qingtang stood up as well, brushed the non-existent dust from his robes, and followed Ning Huaiyuan out.

Only three people remained in the room.

A woman kneeling on the floor.

A man standing by the door.

A child's corpse lying on the couch, covered by a white sheet.

Ning Jing's lips moved.

"Suzhi..."

"Get out."

Yin Suzhi's voice was terrifyingly calm.

Ning Jing opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.

He stood for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room.

The moment the door closed behind him, a faint, suppressed sob leaked from the room, like a wounded beast licking its wounds in a corner.

It was not a wail, nor a loud cry.

It was the sound of someone swallowing every noise into their throat, not even daring to cry out loud.

Yin Suzhi crawled to the side of the wooden couch and lifted a corner of the white sheet.

She had already wiped Ning Zha's face clean.

Pale and quiet. The vermilion dot between his brows had not yet faded. He looked as if he were asleep.

But she knew he would never wake up again.

"Zha'er."

She gently stroked that cold little face, her voice as tender as if lulling a child to sleep.

"Mother will take you away."

"Mother will take you far from here."

"Far, far away... from these people."

Outside the window, the dark clouds finally parted a corner.

A faint ray of sunset pierced through the clouds, slanting into the room.

It fell upon the white sheet.

It fell upon the back of Yin Suzhi's trembling hand.

It fell upon the face of the child who would never open his eyes again.

At the end of the long street, the evening drum of Heaven Dou City struck for the first time.

Dong—

Dull and distant.

As if seeing someone off on their final journey.