The doors to the ancestral hall are made of thick, solid wood, their color a deep, ink-like black deepened by the passage of time. The bronze door knockers feature intricate carvings.
Pushing open the dark red wooden doors, one finds a magnificent main hall lined with the ancestral tablets, all crafted from fine sandalwood and emitting a faint, lingering fragrance. The surfaces are spotless, and the offerings on the table are fresh, a testament to the daily care and devotion lavished upon this place. Thin wisps of incense smoke rise like delicate silk, drifting slowly into the air and perfuming the space with their subtle scent.
The grandfather’s tablet sits on the lowest tier of the altar. Su Li steps forward, her eyes filled with longing. She picks up a stick of incense, lights it gently, and places it into the burner with profound respect. Then, she kneels on both knees and bows three times, each kowtow heavy with the deep remorse she feels for her grandfather.
As she lifts her head, tears welling in her eyes, she says with a trembling voice, "Grandfather, it’s me. Your Li-er has returned."
Tears stream down her cheeks, falling silently onto the cold floor. In the quiet of the ancestral hall, her words seem to transcend time and space, a conversation with her grandfather’s soul. She knows that he has always been watching over her and has never truly left.
Su Li stands up and gazes at the tablet, as if peering through it to see his familiar face and hear his voice. She gently traces the lettering on the tablet, her heart brimming with emotion.
"Grandfather, I know you have always been watching me," she says, her voice thick with suppressed sobs. "Will you blame me for waiting so long to come back? It is all my fault for not listening to your advice. Only now, having hit a wall, do I realize how right your teachings were."
"Grandfather, please rest assured," she vows solemnly. "I will strive to protect this family, and I will safeguard everything you left behind for me."
After speaking, she bows deeply once more and turns to leave the ancestral hall.
Once outside, Su Li speaks to the butler, Old Cheng: "Old Cheng, I am now declaring formally that I wish to fulfill Grandfather’s final wish. I will officially take over all of the Su Family’s assets and become the next head of the Su Family."
Upon hearing this, Old Cheng says with great emotion, "Good, very good! I have been dreaming of this day."
He had expected the young mistress to simply visit today, and he had been worrying about how he might gently persuade her to take on more responsibility. He had thought that since she wasn't yet twenty, it would be fine if she relaxed for another two years. He truly did not expect her to volunteer to take over the Su Family business herself. *Oh, Master, how does it feel like this little girl we raised has suddenly grown up overnight!*
"By the way, Young Mistress, the Master left some things for you before he passed. They are all in his study. You should find some time to take a look."
Su Li is not surprised by Old Cheng’s words; it was, in fact, exactly what she expected. She turns to him and replies, "Very well, I will go there now."
The two walk through a long corridor toward a courtyard of traditional architecture. It is a stark contrast to the modern villa where Su Li resides; the moment one enters, the air is filled with the elegant, antique charm of the Jiangnan water towns. Within the courtyard, the exquisite pavilions, the secluded bridges over flowing water, the rockery in the distance, and the stone table and chairs nearby all plunge Su Li into a deep reverie. She remembers how her grandfather used to drink tea here. As a child, she would come every morning to pay her respects.
Her grandfather would sit on those stone stools and listen to little Su Li recite her lessons. Whenever she made a mistake, he would darken his face, feigning anger, and warn her that only through day-to-day diligence could one walk a steady path. He taught her that one must first learn how to be a person before learning how to get things done. Back then, little Su Li would act like a miniature adult, nodding repeatedly at his words.
In the blink of an eye, he is gone, leaving Su Li standing alone beside the stone stool, silently reciting the *Tao Te Ching*.
She sits down on the stone stool where she used to sit as a child, lost in a daze for a long time. It is a testament to the truth that the loss of a loved one is a shadow from which the living can never fully emerge.
Gathering her thoughts, Su Li walks slowly toward the house. Inside, everything remains just as it was. The rooms are furnished in traditional Chinese style, with authentic rosewood throughout—the grain clear, the design antique but not rigid, simple yet refined. These pieces blend seamlessly with the courtyard corridors, perfectly reflecting the poem: "What need is there for a large room, if the space is elegant? What need for many flowers, if there is fragrance?"
Passing through the living room, she arrives at a small inner courtyard, also built against the mountainside. It bears the lovely name "Liuyun Pavilion." This was primarily where her grandfather read and rested. To the east is his bedroom, next to which is his living quarters; to the west is his study.
Old Cheng does not follow her inside; he bows and waits outside, for the study is a restricted area, accessible only to the heads of the family and their successors. As the designated heir, Su Li knows this rule well. She says nothing more and proceeds to the study alone.
Su Li pushes the door open quietly. Standing at the threshold, she looks down at the smooth floor. Her thoughts drift back to a summer when she was seven. She had caught a butterfly and, wanting to show her grandfather, had rushed to the study and shoved the door open, only to trip over the threshold. She had fallen hard, scraping her knees and hands, and the butterfly had flown away.
She had begun to wail. Her grandfather, sitting in a rattan chair by the window, had taken off his glasses with a kind smile, set down his book, and asked, "Li-er, what happened?"
In her innocence, seeing him had only made her cry harder, as if loud sobs were the only way to lessen the pain of losing the butterfly. He had hurried to pick her up, checked her injuries, and applied medicine to her knees himself. Thinking back on it now, it feels as if he had never left—he has been here all along.
From that day on, the study no longer had a threshold. Only after growing up did she realize this was her grandfather’s silent act of love for her.
Carried by these childhood memories, Su Li enters the study. The air is filled with a faint scent of aloeswood. The room is spacious, spanning the length of the building, with antique shelves neatly organized with classic books and famous calligraphy and paintings. Su Li walks forward until she reaches a corner—her grandfather’s usual place for reading and writing. The desk is set with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, just as it always was. In the afternoons, he would often sit here to paint or write, enjoying a moment of relaxation.
Su Li instinctively raises her eyes to the window. The rattan chair still sits there quietly, the very chair where he would lie to read. From there, opening the window offered a direct view of the magnificent scenery of Cangming Mountain.