Chen Cuihua wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t going to let Li Guifen’s few words of slander get to him. If he actually got angry, wouldn’t that just play right into Li Guifen’s hands?

By now, the Wang family’s main branch and the neighbors had mostly finished paying their respects, so Song Ning could take a break. Sitting by the door in the middle of winter was quite cold; his hands had turned red from the cold.

Song Ning tucked his hands into his sleeves. There wasn’t much left to write at the moment; he was just waiting for the Wang family’s relatives to come over, and they were arriving one after another.

Chen Cuihua also noticed that Song Ning’s hands had turned red from the cold. “Ning-ger, is the hot-water bottle at home? I’ll go get it for you.”

“Oh, thank you, Mother.”

Qiu-ger came over carrying a wooden tray with four coarse earthenware bowls on it. Hearing that Chen Cuihua was going home, he said, “Aunt Cuihua, just call Brother Huzi over. Come have some sugar water—Aunt Wang told me to bring it over.”

Qiu-ger brought over a bowl of steaming brown sugar water for each of them. This was something Fulang had specifically asked him to bring, so he got to enjoy a bowl himself as well.

Chen Cuihua was delighted to see the brown sugar soup. She called out to Wei Hu, telling him to go home and help Song Ning fetch the hot water bottle. Song Ning’s hands were already frozen stiff; even when he was painting at home with the fire lit, his hands were cold, let alone now that he was sitting out in the cold wind.

Song Ning held the brown sugar water to warm his hands, then took a sip. Wei Hu also put down his work and came over to help Song Ning fetch the hot water bottle.

Song Ning called out, “Brother Wei Hu,” and Wei Hu walked over. “What’s up?”

Song Ning looked at Wei Hu with sparkling eyes. “Brother Wei Hu, have a sip to warm yourself up.”

How could Wei Hu refuse? He took a sip and handed it back to Song Ning. “I’ll go get you a hot water bottle.”

“Okay.”

Qiu-ger teased, “Oh my, drinking a whole bowl of sugar water.”

Song Ning’s ears turned red from the teasing.

After drinking a bowl of brown sugar water, Song Ning felt much warmer. Guests had arrived from the Wang family’s side, so he hurriedly picked up his brush to record the gifts. The offerings included not only coins but also chickens, eggs, and white rice; he meticulously noted down every gift received from relatives.

Many relatives from other villages couldn’t help but glance a few extra times at Song Ning, who was sitting by the gift table. It was their first time seeing a young ger acting as a scribe; his handwriting was indeed excellent—truly remarkable.

Wei Hu soon brought Song Ning his hot-water bottle. Song Ning smiled at him and took it. Wei Hu’s heart softened as well. “Hold it tight. I reckon most of the Wang family’s relatives have arrived by now. Once the wedding party returns, we can clear the gift table.”

“Right.”

It was getting late, and there weren’t many Wang family relatives left. With some free time on his hands, Song Ning held the hot water bottle in both hands to warm them. He noticed some red paper on the table and, seeing a pair of scissors nearby, picked them up to pass the time.

Chen Cuihua saw this and let out a little gasp. “Ning-ger, you know how to do paper cutting, too?”

“Granny Zhang taught me; I can do a little.”

Qiu-ger also craned his neck to look. “Ning-ger, your paper-cutting is truly beautiful!”

Song Ning cut out an auspicious design of a golden boy holding a carp and placed it in the basket holding the ceremonial money, drawing the attention of many people. “That’s really beautifully cut.”

Wang Fulang stepped outside to see if the wedding procession had returned yet, and spotted the golden boy holding a carp in the basket—a truly auspicious sign.

Overjoyed, Wang Fulang smiled so broadly that the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. “Ning-ger, you know how to cut paper figures, too! We still have some red paper inside. Could you cut a couple more for Auntie? I’d like to hang them in your brother’s room.”

“Sure.”

Wang Fulang hurried inside to fetch some red paper, while Song Ning sat down to cut. This drew a crowd of onlookers; since the bride and groom hadn’t returned yet, and everyone had nothing else to do, they all came over to join the fun.

Chen Cuihua stood with her back straight as a board today, her face beaming with pride. “Look,” she seemed to say, “this is my son-in-law. You can all be jealous.”

The design of the golden boy holding a carp was quite intricate; it took Song Ning a while to cut out just two. Chen Cuihua took them to the Wang couple, who were so delighted they kept thanking him repeatedly.

Qiu-ger was also quite envious. “Ning-ger, you’re really amazing!”

Song Ning blushed at the compliment. “If you want to learn, come over to my place when you have time, and I’ll teach you.”

Qiu-ger beamed, “Really? But I want to learn so I can sell them—will you get mad?”

Song Ning pretended to be angry and playfully slapped him, “What are you talking about? The town is so big—do you think I’m going to hog the whole market?”

Qiu-ger was so touched that his eyes welled up with tears. If he could learn to cut paper cutouts, that would mean another source of income for the New Year. Brother Ning was truly so kind to him!

Song Ning also knew that Qiu-ger’s family was struggling, and that Granny Sun was a difficult woman to care for. Earning a few extra copper coins would allow them to buy some nice food for the New Year.

Chen Cuihua came back and overheard what the two were saying. She’d been thinking about asking her ger to teach her too. With nothing much to do in the dead of winter, the young couple worked hard to make ends meet—one chopping wood, the other painting—and it was truly grueling.

She watched helplessly, unable to lend a hand, so she could only put her heart into the meals. If she could learn to cut paper cutouts, she might earn a few copper coins during the New Year festivities.

Not long after Song Ning finished cutting the paper cutouts, he saw people beating gongs approaching from a distance. A child ran over, laughing and shouting, “The bride is here!”

In the procession was a slightly worn red palanquin, carried by several young men from the village. The wedding party, joined by the bride’s family, was returning home.

The Wang couple hurried out to have the boy set off firecrackers and cleared the items from the gift table—there was nothing left for Song Ning to do.

Song Ning, still holding the hot water bottle, joined the crowd to watch the commotion. He stamped his feet—they’d gone cold from sitting so long.

Wei Hu had appeared behind him at some point. “You must be freezing. Come on, let’s go warm up by the stove.”

“Alright.” Song Ning happily followed Wei Hu over to warm himself by the fire.

By now, the banquet preparations were nearly complete. The aroma of meat filled the courtyard, making Song Ning’s mouth water. Wei Hu scooped some hot coals from the large stove and let Song Ning warm his hands and feet.

Although being a scribe was a respectable profession, sitting out in the cold for so long in the dead of winter was still freezing.

Song Ning’s cotton shoes were now steaming hot, and his feet were no longer cold, when Qiu-ger called out to him, “Ning-ger, come over here and watch the wedding ceremony!”

“Okay!”

The two of them squeezed their way through the crowd to join the spectacle.

After the wedding ceremony, the villagers who weren’t closely related to the couple began to trickle away. The village chief called out from the courtyard, instructing the men carrying trays to start serving the food.

As soon as Qiu-ger heard this, he hurriedly pulled Song Ning along to find a seat. Chen Cuihua beckoned to the two of them, “Come over here—this spot’s sheltered from the wind.”

There were plenty of people to sit at this table; if they moved too slowly, they wouldn’t get a seat and would have to eat standing up. Song Ning, having never attended a banquet in the countryside before, wasn’t aware of these customs. Chen Cuihua had already secured a good spot for the two of them near the Wang family’s east wing, where the wind couldn’t reach them.

In the courtyard, the Wang family’s relatives sat on one side, while their own clan and relatives from the village sat on the other. Two tables for the bride’s family were set up in the warm main hall, and there was also a table in the modest east room—reserved for hosting important guests from the village.

The Wang couple busied themselves with seating the bride’s family, while the rest were free to find their own seats.

The elderly Wang couple came out and first invited the village chief to sit in the east room. Wang Fulang then came over to invite Song Ning: “Young Master Ning, you and your mother should go sit in the east room too, and take Qiu-ger with you. It’s so cold out here.”

Chen Cuihua waved her hands in protest. “No way, absolutely not.”

The table in the east room was reserved for the village chief and the elderly scholar, people who had been of great help to the host family. Although Chen Cuihua was proud that Song Ning had brought her honor today, she felt her young son was still a bit too young to sit alongside the village chief.

Wang Fulang took Chen Cuihua by the hand and pulled her over. “Come on, Cuihua, why be so polite? Your family deserves to sit in this room today.”

Chen Cuihua tried to refuse for a long time but couldn’t, so she finally sat down. She could tell the difference between a genuine invitation and a mere formality—if someone were just going through the motions, they’d have pulled her over lightly and let her push back. But Wang Fulang had grabbed her and wouldn’t let go, dragging her over by force.

Qiu-ger was delighted to hear his name called and hurriedly pulled Song Ning to his feet. “Come on, Ning-ger, let’s go sit at the table in the east room. We’re really riding your coattails today.”

Seated at the table in the east room were the village chief’s family and Chen Cuihua’s group of three, only seven or eight people in total. Compared to the table outside, which held a dozen or so, it was much less crowded, and naturally, there was less scrambling for meat.

It was Chen Cuihua’s first time being treated as an honored guest, and she felt a bit awkward. Her family’s reputation wasn’t good; back when the Wang family held their wedding banquet, they hadn’t even invited her. Not to mention the Wang family—even the Wei family, her own clan, hadn’t called on her to help make the bed for the newlyweds.

For such tasks, they always invited the village’s “blessed ones”—those with good reputations, who had sons, daughters, and a harmonious family life.

Chen Cuihua felt a lump in her throat for a moment; she never imagined that one day she, Chen Cuihua, would be able to sit in such a prominent spot.

Qiu-ger was also quite pleased. He whispered to Song Ning, “Look how spacious our table is. This spot is reserved for the village chief and the clerk—I’m really riding your coattails here.”

Outside, the serving had already begun. A few young men from the village deftly carried trays, and the first dish served was a hearty main course: steamed pork with taro slices—a dish Qiu-ger had been raving about for ages.

Wei Hu happened to be serving Song Ning’s table. He smiled at his younger ger and deftly set the dish down. Song Ning looked up at him. “Brother Wei Hu, where are you going to sit for dinner? Why don’t you join us here?”

Chen Cuihua said with a smile, “Don’t worry about Brother Huzi. He’ll be sitting with those other lads later; they’ll eat later than us.”

Although Qiu-ger was eyeing that bowl of steamed pork longingly, with the village chief sitting right there, he didn’t dare pick up his chopsticks. The village chief picked up his chopsticks and said, “Eat up, everyone. The food prepared by the Wang family’s wife is absolutely delicious.”

Only then did everyone begin to eat. There were also the village chief’s two children at their table; the little ones, eager for meat, leaned forward to pick some up with their chopsticks. Since there weren’t many people at their table, no one was fighting over the food, and everyone got a share.

Song Ning also took a bite. The meat was steamed to perfection—the fatty parts melted in his mouth, while the lean parts were fragrant and tender. It was incredibly delicious. Even the taro slices inside were soaked in meat juice, soft and sticky. No wonder Qiu-ger had been raving about it for so long.