Many families set up a small altar in the living room or kitchen, where incense curls skyward each morning before work or school. Ancestors aren’t just remembered on tomb-sweeping days; their portraits and tablets anchor a sense of continuity, guiding decisions big and small. It’s not unusual to whisper a quick “thank you” to a great-grandparent’s spirit for a safe trip or a smooth exam.

Community life often orbits around the neighborhood temple. During the annual temple fair—think lantern-lit evenings echoing with drumbeats and firecrackers—residents renew ties by offering fruit, lighting candles, or simply catching up over sticky rice cakes. Such gatherings can resemble a catch-up session among old friends, sprinkled with fortune-telling booths where folks seek a peek at what tomorrow might bring.

When moving into a new home, consulting a feng shui master is almost knee-jerk for many. Furniture placement, door orientation, even the choice of bathroom paint color all get the once-over. Better to align with earth’s energy than risk “bad luck” lurking behind a wrong angle.

In bustling cities like Shanghai or Taipei, quick visits to roadside shrines aren’t uncommon. Grabbing a moment to bow, drop a few coins, and light a joss stick before a busy day feels as natural as checking the morning weather app. Some turn to local deities—Mazu for seafarers, Tudigong for neighborhood prosperity—tapping into centuries-old traditions that still speak to modern anxieties.

Even the Lunar New Year’s red envelopes carry folk-religion echoes: the color red to ward off evil spirits, the number eight for abundance. Schoolchildren learn to respect these rituals alongside math and history, weaving beliefs into the fabric of daily life without missing a beat.

Amid rapid urbanization and global trends, these customs might seem quaint. Yet they offer both a sense of belonging and a practical toolkit for navigating life’s twists and turns—proof that ancestral wisdom, like a well-worn path, continues to guide each new generation.