The most consistent element across Chinese religious practice is obligation to the dead of one's own family. The dead are understood to continue, to need support, and to be able to help or harm their descendants, which makes the relationship reciprocal rather than commemorative.
The domestic form is an ancestral tablet or a photograph on a shelf or altar, receiving incense, food, tea and spirit money at set times: the death anniversary, new year, and above all Qingming in spring, when families sweep and repair graves and make offerings there. In the seventh lunar month, the Ghost Festival, offerings are made to the dead who have no descendants to feed them and are therefore dangerous, a category that explains much of the ritual concern with ghosts.
Where lineages are strong, most visibly in the southeast and in Taiwan, ancestors are also served in a lineage hall holding tablets for many generations and funding schools, temples and mutual aid from common land. This is where the tradition is hardest to separate from Confucianism, which supplied the texts and the ritual etiquette for exactly these rites, and it is one reason the boundary between the two is a scholarly convenience rather than a lived distinction.
Funerals are the point at which the traditions visibly combine. A family may engage Buddhist monks to chant for the transfer of merit, a Taoist priest for rites addressed to the bureaucracy of the other world, and a geomancer to site the grave, and see no conflict in employing all three. Paper goods (houses, cars, currency, in recent years phones), are burned to supply the dead.
Behind it lies a practical view of what the dead need: sustenance, respect, a proper place, and descendants who keep it up. Failure to provide is not merely disrespectful but risky, since a neglected ancestor may become an angry ghost.