According to the laws of the Da Feng Dynasty, thieves were sentenced to twenty strokes of the cane.

Letting them off so easily would be far too lenient. Twenty strokes would be enough to tear their flesh open, leaving them with scars they’d carry for the rest of their lives.

The taller man was still shouting, “We’re servants of the Sun family—you dare!”

“Just try it and see.”

The village chief was at a loss. It was the New Year, and he didn’t want to stir up trouble. The Sun family were wealthy landowners—how could they possibly afford to cross them?

After all, Zhou Xiaonan was the one directly affected by this matter. The village chief cleared his throat and asked, “Nan-ger, this is your family’s business, after all. Do you think we should let it go, or hand it over to the authorities?”

Zhou Xiaonan raised his head, instinctively glanced at Shen Linchuan, then lowered his head again. “Hand him over… to the authorities.”

The village chief didn’t want to get involved in this trouble. Even though he was the village chief, it wasn’t his family’s business. It was the New Year, and he just wanted some peace and quiet. “Then I’ll tie them up, and you hand them over to you.”

Zhou Da spoke up, “Village Chief, Nan-ger is just a young lad. How can you hand over two thugs to him? That’s a bit thoughtless of you. They even hurt my son. If you don’t want to handle this, I, Zhou Da, will take care of it.”

“The two of them broke into the Dayangshu late at night to steal. According to the law, they deserve twenty strokes of the cane.”

Hearing Shen Linchuan say this, the man finally grew afraid. “You… you dare! I… I’m from the Sun family!” 

“Falsely claiming kinship with the head of the household adds another offense.”

Shen Linchuan bent slightly at the waist, glaring at the man as he delivered his sentence. This was actually going easy on them. It was the first time his Fulang had been injured right under his nose, and the villagers all said his father, Zhou Da, was overly protective of his own. But Shen Linchuan wasn’t someone to be messed with either.

“Father, just toss them in the corner of the backyard for now. We’ll take him to town at daybreak.”

“Alright. I’ll keep an eye on them and see if these two scoundrels dare to hurt anyone again!”

Zhou Da dragged one of them out by the arm. In the back yard of the house stood a thatched shed, usually used to store farm tools and odds and ends. With three sides open to the wind, he intended to let these two scoundrels sober up in the middle of winter.

It was well past midnight, and with the bitter cold, everyone inside had already dispersed and gone home.

Granny Wang sighed as she looked at Zhou Xiaonan, who was huddled up in a cotton robe. “Oh, that good-for-nothing father of yours! Come stay at my place for the night. You can go back tomorrow.”

This young ger had fallen victim to thugs in the dead of night; she couldn’t very well send him home alone. Staying at Ning-ger’s place wouldn’t be convenient, so she’d just have to share a room with him—an old woman like her would be fine squeezing in with him for the night.

Zhou Xiaonan wiped away his tears. “Thank you, Auntie.” 

“Let’s go.”

Zhou Ning went out to see them off, and Shen Linchuan followed along, offering a word of comfort: “Get some rest early. Don’t be afraid. That good-for-nothing father of yours deserves to have his legs broken, so he won’t be a menace to you anymore.”

After seeing Zhou Xiaonan off, the two returned to their room. With two villains tied up in the shed in the backyard, sleep was out of the question. Shen Linchuan picked up a few pieces of charcoal and placed them in the handwarmer. “Come over here and get some more sleep. It’s still early.”

“I can’t sleep. I’ll just sit here for a bit.”

Shen Linchuan pulled him over to sit by the bed, bent down to take off Fulang’s shoes, and without another word, shoved him under the covers. “If you’re not going to sleep, at least lie down for a bit.”

“Then you come up and lie down too. It’s cold sitting there.”

“I’m going to help Zhou Xiaonan draft his petition. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve; I doubt the town magistrate will put it off until after the New Year.”

With a theft occurring under his jurisdiction right before the New Year, the town magistrate would lose face. If he were a shrewd man, conducting a strict interrogation could even earn him a reputation for being a capable and wise leader.

Shen Linchuan moved a writing desk over and placed it on the bed, then picked up a brush and began to write.

Zhou Ning lay in bed watching Shen Linchuan. In the flickering candlelight, Shen Linchuan’s face looked even more handsome. As Zhou Ning watched, his eyelids began to droop.

Shen Linchuan had been watching him the whole time; when he saw Zhou Ning had fallen asleep, he tucked the quilt around him once more.

“Silly boy.”

Shen Linchuan gently tucked Zhou Ning’s loose, long hair behind his ear. Clearly, he was the one who was supposed to be this clumsy ger’s husband—yet here he was, rushing over to shield him. Shen Linchuan felt immensely relieved that it had only been a stick.

Early the next morning, light snowflakes began to drift down once more, and the sound of firecrackers rang out intermittently throughout the village. After breakfast, Zhou Da drove off in his mule cart, taking those two villains with him. It was the New Year, after all—he considered it bad luck to have them in his home, so he’d hurried to get rid of them.

Shen Linchuan saw Zhou Da off at the door. “Father, come back early. Don’t get entangled with those outsiders.” 

“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

Zhou Da drove the mule cart away, clutching the petition in his arms—he was determined to get rid of these two as quickly as possible.

Zhou Da had left early, and by now, many households had just woken up. As he passed through the village, some villagers—unaware of what had happened the previous day—were startled to see two people lying on the mule cart, bound hand and foot. “Uncle Zhou, what’s going on?”

Zhou Da simply replied that they were thieves who had entered the village and were being sent to the town.

“Oh my! Thieves have actually come into our village!”

The surrounding villages had been peaceful for years; this was the first time anyone had seen roaming bandits. As Zhou Da drove the mule cart on, a long line of onlookers formed behind him once he reached town.

The New Year is the time when people have the most free time. Who doesn’t have a handful of peanuts or sunflower seeds in their pockets? This was even more entertaining than the monkey shows at the market, so everyone followed along to see the spectacle.

As soon as Zhou Da reached the county office, he hauled the man off the cart. After handing over the complaint, he stepped aside.

The town magistrate was at his wits’ end. He’d already taken off his official robes to go home for the New Year, only to be summoned back. Outside, crowds were packed three layers deep, all craning their necks to peer inside. Shameless scoundrels—ruining his New Year’s just when he should be celebrating!

After hearing just a few words, the two men knelt and bowed repeatedly, but before they could even mention the Sun family, they were cut off. The petition made everything crystal clear: although it described bandits entering the village to steal, there was another document attached stating that these bandits showed no remorse and were falsely implicating the Sun family.

How could he not understand? The Sun family was a prominent clan in town, with a son who had passed the provincial examination and was serving as an official in the capital. As a lowly town magistrate who had bought his position, he certainly couldn’t afford to offend them. He immediately silenced them, ordered twenty lashes, and had them thrown out.

Zhou Da didn’t leave until the flogging was over. The onlookers had already begun to disperse. He looked down and saw a layer of sunflower seed shells scattered on the ground. While the two men were being flogged, the crowd had craned their necks as far as they could, afraid of missing a single moment.

As soon as Zhou Da left, Shen Linchuan entered the room. Zhou Ning was holding his arm up to pin his hair, though his brow was slightly furrowed. Shen Linchuan took the ebony hairpin from his, saying, “I’ll help you pin it up in a moment. Let me take a look at the injury.”

Without another word, Shen Linchuan pulled off Zhou Ning’s outer jacket, revealing a large bruise on his right shoulder—a dark purple mark that would take weeks to fade.

“I’ll apply some medicinal wine first.”

Zhou Ning sat still, not moving a muscle, vaguely sensing that Shen Linchuan was in a bad mood. Shen Linchuan applied a bit of pressure as he massaged the area. “Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt. There’s no bleeding at all.”

Shen Linchuan silently muttered to himself, “You fool.” After applying the medicinal wine, he carefully tied Zhou Ning’s hair back, inserted the ebony hairpin, and then pulled another Qingyun hairpin from his bosom to pin it on the same side.

“All done, Zhou Xiaoning. It’s New Year’s Eve today.”

Zhou Ning smiled too. “We celebrate the New Year together once a year. Father will be back soon. Let’s go make dumplings first.” 

“Alright.”

“Oh my! How could such a villain have gotten into our village! Ning-ger, are you all right?” The cotton curtain at the doorway was lifted, and Zhang Xiaoyi stormed in, looking indignant. “I heard you got hurt. Let me see how bad it is.”

Zhou Ning’s jacket was pulled off again. Zhang Xiaoyi looked even angrier when he saw it. “It’s such a big bruise!”

Shen Linchuan tactfully stepped aside. As a doctor’s son, Zhang Xiaoyi was far more skilled at massaging out bruises than he was. As he worked, he cursed, “I heard it all. Those two were brought here by Nan-ger’s deadbeat father. Ugh, selling a young ger right in the middle of the New Year—what kind of person does that?”

The news had spread throughout the village. As soon as Zhang Xiaoyi heard about it, he rushed over to check on them. These were his only two close friends in the village—one had nearly been sold, and the other had been injured. It made him absolutely furious.

“Oh, Ning-ger, you bought a new hairpin. It’s quite pretty.”

Zhou Ning looked up in confusion. “What hairpin?”

“You’ve got a green jade hairpin in your hair. I must say, it looks pretty good paired with that wooden one.”

Zhou Ning reached up to touch it. He knew his ebony hairpin well—he could tell which one it was just by touch. He ran his fingers up a bit further; it felt smooth and slightly cool to the touch.

Zhou Ning looked at Shen Linchuan. “Shen Linchuan, you bought me a hairpin.” 

“Mm-hmm. A New Year’s gift—one for each of us.”

The couple’s hairpins—he was wearing them on his head today as well.

Zhang Xiaoyi clicked his tongue. “All right, all right. It’s early in the morning—you two need to stop being so lovey-dovey.”

After helping Zhou Ning massage his head for a bit, Zhang Xiaoyi rushed off to check on Zhou Xiaonan—that boy really was driving him crazy!

Zhou Da returned before noon. Seeing those two scoundrels beaten to a pulp finally gave him some satisfaction—they deserved it.

The village grew livelier by the minute. The aroma of cooking meat wafted from every household, and the crackling of firecrackers echoed all around. Shen Linchuan’s mood finally lifted a bit. Together with Zhou Ning, he hung peach wood talismans on the wooden door of their home, while the two of them pasted festive red couplets on either side with paste.

Zhou Da cheerfully lit a string of firecrackers, scaring Dahuang into scrambling back to the kitchen, which made the three of them burst into laughter.

A layer of bright red firecracker paper covered the snow, creating a festive scene. After a year of hard work, Zhou Da sighed, “This really is a good year.”

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Zhou Da!”

A few children wearing tiger-head hats ran inside. Kids love the New Year the most—not only do they get to eat meat, but they also get to eat candy.

Zhou Da smiled happily. He brought out a bamboo basket, scooping a handful of roasted sunflower seeds for each child and handing them a piece of malt candy as well. “Happy New Year’s Eve, happy New Year’s Eve.”

The children chattered and played in the courtyard for a while before running off to play at other houses.

That evening, Shen Linchuan prepared a mutton hot pot and baked plenty of mutton buns. The three of them gathered around and ate together in a lively atmosphere.

Zhou Da couldn’t contain his joy. This year had truly been a bountiful one: his son had found a husband, and the family business had brought in a large sum of silver. Now he was just hoping for a few chubby little ones to join the household—that would make the New Year celebrations even livelier.

Outside, the sky was gradually growing dark, and the crackling of firecrackers filled the air. The snow had been falling steadily all day, so Shen Linchuan rolled up the cotton curtain at the entrance to the main hall, creating the perfect spot to enjoy the snow while eating a hot pot of lamb.

Although the door was open, a charcoal brazier was burning inside, a small stove nearby was warming Tusu wine, and a bubbling hot pot sat on the table—even the cold breeze that drifted in was wrapped in a layer of warmth.

Shen Linchuan picked up a piece of lamb with curled edges from the pot and placed it in Fulang’s bowl. Zhou Ning was quite fond of lamb; since his family raised pigs, they never lacked meat, but they didn’t often eat lamb.

“I’ve heard that the nobles in the capital love lamb. No wonder they do—this lamb has a natural milky aroma.”

A smile tugged at Shen Linchuan’s lips. It was rare for his Fulang to speak at such length, so he must truly love this tender, succulent lamb. “That’s right. Otherwise, lamb wouldn’t be so expensive.”

Shen Linchuan had heard about this at school as well. It was said that the trend of eating mutton in the capital originated in the palace. Rumor had it that His Majesty enjoyed mutton, so high-ranking officials and nobles followed suit, and for a time, mutton became all the rage in the capital.

Zhou Da took a sip of Tusu wine, narrowed his eyes slightly, and smacked his lips. “Lamb is excellent—it’s the most nourishing food in winter. We, farmers, work hard all year long, and we look forward to these few good days at the end of the year.”

The three chatted idly as they ate from the hot pot, occasionally taking a sip of the warmed Tusu wine. Outside, the wind carried scattered snowflakes into the room, vanishing the moment they touched the ground.

Not only did Zhou Da feel that this year’s New Year’s celebration was much livelier, but even Shen Linchuan felt that life couldn’t get any better than this. Compared to his previous life, spent alone in cold solitude, this New Year was incredibly enjoyable.

After the meal, two straw mats were laid on the floor. Shen Linchuan and Zhou Ning knelt down to pay their New Year’s respects to Zhou Da. “Father, Happy New Year. We wish you peace, happiness, and success in all your endeavors.”

Zhou Ning nodded beside him, “Me too.” 

Zhou Da was overjoyed, “Good, good, good.”

Scholars certainly have a way with words; their speech brings joy to the heart and a sense of ease to the whole body.

Zhou Da fished a few silver coins from his sleeve. “Here, here, here—New Year’s money. I also wish you two a harmonious life. Linchuan, I hope you pass the imperial exams next year, and Ning-ger, may all your wishes come true.”

Zhou Ning couldn’t help but be overjoyed at his father’s words. “Don’t worry, Father. Next year, I’ll definitely give you a big, healthy baby boy.” 

Shen Linchuan let out a couple of “Ahs” and quickly covered his husband’s mouth. “Why do you have to blurt everything out like that?”

Upon hearing that his ger was already thinking about it, Zhou Da was overjoyed. “Very well, very well. I’ll help you take care of him when the time comes.”

Shen Linchuan clutched two silver ingots, beaming with joy. His father was truly generous—giving ten taels to each of them was no small sum.

Shen Linchuan helped his fulang to his feet. By now, the table had been set with more tea and snacks: four-color lotus flower pastries, walnuts, honey-glazed dates, tangerines, and longan. Shen Linchuan brewed some black tea and mixed it with milk to make a cup of milk tea.

Knowing his fulang didn’t care for tea, he’d made the milk tea on purpose. Zhou Ning sipped it and was genuinely pleased. “It really is much better than tea.” He’d even added osmanthus honey—it was sweet.

Zhou Da didn’t care for sweets, so he sipped his hot wine slowly. The three of them stayed up until the rooster crowed before retiring to their respective rooms. It was cold in winter; even with a charcoal fire burning indoors, sitting up all night was still a bit unbearable.

The sound of firecrackers grew louder, so Zhou Da went out and lit a string of them.

Shen Linchuan pulled down the cotton curtain in the main hall. “Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s cold sitting out here.”

The crackling of firecrackers drowned out the screams echoing through the night. Zhou Xiaonan’s hands trembled slightly as he gripped the door latch; he turned and went inside, closing the door behind him.

The snow continued to fall. As dawn began to break, sounds of activity could be heard from every household. Zhou Ning nudged the person who was clinging to him, refusing to get up. “Shen Linchuan, get up.”

Shen Linchuan let out a reluctant groan. “It’s the New Year, for heaven’s sake. Let me sleep in a little. Good Ning-ger, good Ning-ger.”

When it was time for bed in the winter, Shen Linchuan loved to burrow into Zhou Ning’s embrace. His fulang had a strong, warm presence. Previously, Shen Linchuan had loved to wrap his arms around Zhou Ning, but come winter, the roles were reversed—he found his Fulang’s embrace to be the warmest and most comfortable.

Shen Linchuan was also someone who never denied himself comfort, so he immediately snuggled in.

Zhou Ning was particularly weak against Shen Linchuan’s soft tone, and since Shen Linchuan was a year younger than him, he indulged him even more. Thinking of how hard his husband worked at his studies, he decided to let him rest properly during the rare New Year’s break. If anyone came to the house later, he’d just say Shen Linchuan had overexerted himself the day before.

No sooner had Zhou Ning slipped on his indigo-blue robe than Shen Linchuan sat up as if rising from the dead. “I’ll get up and tie your hair for you.”

Shen Linchuan was still worried about the injury on Zhou Ning’s shoulder; lifting his arm would surely hurt. Zhou Ning patted him through the blanket. “It’s just a minor scratch—the skin isn’t even broken. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m getting up. I’m getting up.”

Shen Linchuan hurriedly put on his jacket and got up. First, he tied Fulang’s hair into a bun, then fastened his own hairband. He puffed out his chest with satisfaction—having turned a year older, he was finally a bit taller than Fulang.

The sound of snow being swept came from the courtyard; he didn’t even need to look to know his father had already gotten up to clear the snow. Shen Linchuan opened the door, smiled, and bowed. “Father, Happy New Year!”

“Ah, good, good, good. Happy New Year to you both.”

Shen Linchuan went off to fetch water as always, while Zhou Ning headed to the kitchen to cook dumplings. The three of them each had a bowl of Chinese cabbage and pork dumplings for breakfast. The dumplings were plump and round, like a baby’s little fists. Zhou Ning really liked the filling Shen Linchuan had prepared and didn’t stop until he’d eaten two bowls.

Only a single path had been cleared in the courtyard, and the pristine white snow set off the red New Year couplets, making the scene exceptionally festive.

Before long, children began trickling in to offer their New Year’s greetings. The younger ones, dressed in little red jackets and tiger-head hats, clasped their hands together in a bow. “Happy New Year, Zhou Da! Happy New Year, Brother Shen and Brother Ning!”

The other children who had come together chattered away, wishing everyone a Happy New Year. Zhou Da was overjoyed as he responded to each one, and even Zhou Ning couldn’t contain his delight—it was truly a lively scene.

Each child received two copper coins and a handful of New Year’s treats, which made the whole group even happier. They then ran off to pay New Year’s calls at another house.

It was exceptionally lively that early morning. Wave after wave of children came to pay their New Year’s respects, and men from the Zhou clan also dropped by to offer their greetings, most of them bringing a bowl of dumplings they’d made themselves. With people coming and going, the atmosphere was bustling.

Shen Linchuan realized his father held a fairly high status in the village; even he was being called “Elder” by others. Shen Linchuan raised an eyebrow slightly—this was quite a high status indeed.

It was the first time he’d ever been addressed as “Elder.”

Shen Linchuan whispered to Zhou Ning, “Did Zhou Youcheng and Zhou Fang come to pay New Year’s calls in previous years?”

“They did, but I don’t know if they’ll come this year.”

Zhou Da was in the middle of chatting with the New Year’s visitors when Zhou Xiaonan rushed in, flustered. “Uncle Zhou, it’s bad! My dad—my dad’s lying in the courtyard! I—I can’t move him…”

Zhou Da gave a noncommittal “Oh.” 

“Old Zhou’s been drinking again. He must have had one too many. I’ll go help you get him inside.” Zhou Xiaonan looked a bit pale. “My dad… he doesn’t look well. I can’t wake him up.”

“He hasn’t frozen to death, has he? I’ll go take a look.”

Shen Linchuan and Zhou Ning followed along to take a look. It was the New Year, after all—they didn’t want Old Zhou pulling any stunts.

It had snowed all night yesterday. The snow was deep enough to cover the tops of their shoes. In Zhou Xiaonan’s yard, a layer of snow lay untouched, with only scattered footprints and drag marks beside Old Zhou.

“I—I can’t wake my dad up, and I can’t drag him either,” Zhou Xiaonan said, looking panicked.

Shen Linchuan peered over and saw his face had turned blue. Tsk, who knows if he’s even still alive.

“Oh dear, your father doesn’t look good. Nan-ger, you’d better go fetch Doctor Zhang right away.”

No sooner had Zhou Da finished speaking than he grabbed the man and hauled him to his feet. Old Zhou groaned a few times; his fingers were trembling, his face was contorted, and his leg was broken. Zhou Da hurriedly carried him into the house.

Zhou Gouwa was terrified by the sight of his father and hid trembling behind the door. Zhou Da let out a sigh at the sight of him. “He’s a young lad, yet he’s so timid.”

“Gouwa, go make some tea for your father.”

Doctor Zhang arrived shortly after. As soon as he stepped inside, he caught the smell of alcohol on Old Zhou’s breath. “So Old Zhou went out drinking at someone’s house again yesterday.” Zhou Da made room for him. “Doctor Zhang, take a look—he’s broken his leg.”

Shen Linchuan gave Zhou Ning a gentle tug. “Let’s go.”

Shen Linchuan found Old Zhou’s room messy and filled with a strange odor. Zhou Ning handed Zhou Xiaonan some loose silver coins he had on him. “If that’s not enough, come to my house to get more.”

Zhou Xiaonan looked so frightened that his face had gone pale; all his silver was stored with Zhou Ning, and now he’d have to spend more on the doctor’s fees.

Shen Linchuan and Zhou Ning left, but as they walked out, Shen Linchuan cast a glance at Zhou Xiaonan. Zhou Xiaonan’s face paled for a moment, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out even more.

The two stepped outside and headed to Zhang Xiaoyi’s house to pay New Year’s greetings.

When they came out a short while later, they overheard people warming themselves by the fire at the entrance, gossiping: “What? Old Zhou caught a cold and broke his leg? Now he’s really become a cripple.”

“Forget about being a cripple—he probably can’t even get back up.”

“I heard he drank too much. He fell in the courtyard in the dead of night and didn’t get up. Serves him right. Just yesterday he was bragging about his ger, and today he’s caught a cold. That’s karma for you.”

“That’s right, he really did a lot of good deeds.”

A stroke—or a stroke of bad luck, as they say. To lie out in the snow all night in the dead of winter and not freeze to death was nothing short of a miracle. The villagers all said Old Zhou was getting his just deserts. With so many people visiting on New Year’s Day, the gossip spread like wildfire.

After Doctor Zhang prescribed some medicine and left, only Zhou Laogua’s immediate family remained in the house. Zhou Gouwa was terrified. “Brother, what—what are we going to do? We’re going to starve to death.”

“Shut up!” Zhou Xiaonan snapped.

Now that he realized they’d starve to death, he remembered that just moments ago, when he’d finally gotten some silver, his younger brother had pointed it out to their father, Old Zhou. Zhou Gouwa had never seen his older brother like this before, and he trembled even more violently.

“Go brew some medicine for Dad. All you do is cry.”

Zhou Gouwa finally left. Zhou Laogua, who had been lying in bed, had just woken up. Doctor Zhang had given him an acupuncture treatment, but it had only served to rouse him; the wind-cold syndrome remained incurable, and he would be bedridden from now on.