Qiu-ger didn’t know that, if you asked, it was actually Granny Sun who started the whole thing.

Granny Sun was usually a chatterbox. After Li Guifen had snapped at her that day, she brought up the matter. She hadn’t intended to shout it from the rooftops so the whole village would know—after all, the Li family had already arranged the engagement. If she were to meddle and cause it to fall through, Li Guifen would surely make her pay.

She just wanted to give Li Guifen a hard time, but little did she know that no sooner had she left than Li Xiaolian started threatening to jump into the river. This really scared her, and she stayed holed up at home for days, too afraid to go out.

Qiu-ger knew that the three members of the Wei family were currently avoiding the Li family. Whenever he came over, he would cut paper cutouts and tell amusing stories, never mentioning anything about the Li family.

Although the Li family’s affairs were now the talk of the town, it was said that after Li Xiaolian fell into the water, she caught a chill. The doctor had already made two visits, and though several taels of silver had been spent, her life was no longer in danger.

Things were just as chaotic over at the Shi family’s. They were clamoring to call off the engagement, and the elderly couple was demanding that the Li family return the betrothal gifts. The Li family was reluctant to do so, knowing that with all the commotion, it would be difficult to find a better match now.

The young man from the Shi family, however, was quite happy about it. The two families are distant relatives, and the young man had met Li Xiaolian before. While the father wants to call off the engagement, the son refuses to back down, so the Shi household is in complete upheaval as well.

Toward the end of the year, the Shi family went ahead and married him off. They heard the wedding wasn’t very festive, and the Shi family’s matriarch looked down on Li Xiaolian even more. Life just had to go on like this.

Before they knew it, the New Year was approaching. When Song Ning sent Wei Hu to town, he asked him to bring back some red paper, as well as some raw xuan paper for painting. He planned to paint a couple of central hall scrolls—these sold best during the New Year, so he didn’t dare to paint too many.

They’d cut out quite a few paper window decorations, enough to sell. The simpler ones went for five or six wen, while the more intricate ones fetched eleven or twelve wen. Chen Cuihua had been carrying a basket around town hawking them for the past couple of days.

Business was going quite well. Some customers bought just one or two, while others bought five or six. By the end of the day, she could earn seventy or eighty wen, and Chen Cuihua was so delighted she couldn’t stop smiling.

These paper cutouts were only sold during the few days leading up to the New Year. Chen Cuihua wanted to help the family earn some extra money, so she went out early every morning right after breakfast.

Song Ning stayed home writing couplets. He prepared some in advance to sell right away, and if anyone wanted something else, he’d just write it then.

Song Ning prepared about ten sets of couplets at home and painted two hanging scrolls. Early on the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth lunar month, all three of them were ready to set out.

Wei Hu borrowed an oxcart from the village chief’s family to haul a load of firewood, while Song Ning and Chen Cuihua followed behind carrying their own goods. The cold of late December had set in, marking the coldest days of the year; once the fifteenth day of the first lunar month passed, the weather would gradually begin to warm up.

Chen Cuihua had been wandering around town with her basket since the 20th of the 12th lunar month, and over the past few days, she’d earned half a tael of silver—she was quite pleased with that.

When they arrived at the town market, it was packed with people. Wei Hu, pulling the oxcart, didn’t try to squeeze into the center of the crowd; since they were selling couplets and firewood, a spot on the outskirts where there were fewer people would do just fine.

There were quite a few people coming to town to sell goods now. With the New Year just around the corner, the town had waived market fees for the past few days, drawing many people to sell dried goods, hair ribbons, and silk flowers.

Wei Hu found an open spot and unloaded the firewood. The bundles were all tied with straw rope; each bundle cost twenty copper coins, and he’d brought twenty bundles.

Song Ning set up his own little stall as well, placing pre-cut red paper, brushes, and ink on a small table. Chen Cuihua helped by digging two holes in the back, planting two sticks in them, and stretching a grass rope across them to hang up some of the couplets Song Ning had already written.

“All set. Mom, go sell them inside—there are more people there.”

“Okay.”

Chen Cuihua slung her basket over her shoulder and headed to the center of the market to hawk her wares. A few days earlier, Qiu-ger and his family of three had also come to town to sell window decorations. They went to the market on the west side; though that market wasn’t as crowded as this one, it was still decent, and they managed to sell quite a bit every day.

Wei Hu and Song Ning watched the stall. Their small stall sold couplets, firewood, and paper cutouts—all items needed for the New Year.

Song Ning’s business was going quite well. Customers trickled in to buy the “Fu” character couplets. If they saw one they liked hanging on the string, they could just take it right off. If they wanted a different character, Song Ning would write it out for them on the spot. For a while, his little business was booming.

“Would you like some window decorations? They’re cheaper if you buy them together with the couplets.” 

“If you buy firewood from us, we’ll throw in a small ‘Fu’ character or a window decoration—whichever you prefer.”

Song Ning was quite the businessman. Before long, a crowd had gathered around his small stall. He wrote the couplets up front, while Wei Hu handled sales from the back.

Before noon, Song Ning had sold out of all the couplets he’d prepared, and the twenty bundles of firewood were gone too.

Since he wasn’t delivering them to people’s homes, he charged only eighteen wen per bundle. While everyone else was raising prices for the New Year, Wei Hu’s firewood not only stayed the same but actually dropped by two wen, which made it sell quite well.

Once the items in the back were sold out, Wei Hu came to the front to help Song Ning grind ink and collect coins, and he also took the opportunity to sell his family’s window decorations. “Want some window decorations? Buy in bulk and get a discount.”

A crowd had gathered in several rings around Song Ning’s small stall—some came to buy, others just to watch the commotion. It was rare to see a ger out selling couplets; after all, families who could afford to send their sons to school usually had some silver at home and wouldn’t be out selling couplets.

“Wow, that calligraphy is beautiful!”

Song Ning smiled. “Eight wen a pair, including the horizontal banner.” The “horizontal banner” was what they called a couplet in these parts.

Someone spotted the two hanging scrolls in the back and asked, “Ger, did you paint those, too? How much do they cost?” 

“One tael and two wen. I’ll even throw in a few pairs of couplets or window decorations for free.”

These hanging scrolls weren’t cheap, so Song Ning didn’t dare to paint too many, fearing they wouldn’t sell. He’d only painted two. Even wealthy families in town who could afford hanging scrolls didn’t buy them every year; a single scroll could last for several years, unlike the paired couplets, which needed to be replaced annually.

“Ger, please write five pairs of couplets for me, ten large ‘Fu’ characters, and eight small ‘Fu’ characters.”

Song Ning was delighted to hear this; this woman had quite a few rooms. The ones in the back had already sold out, so Song Ning hurried to write them up for her.

After finishing, he let them cool briefly before carefully rolling them up. Song Ning hadn’t cut the couplets apart—each pair was on a single sheet of paper. He’d cut them at home; that way, he wouldn’t risk the customer confusing the upper and lower lines.

“Madam, that comes to seventy-six wen. I’ll throw in a large window decoration for you—you can pick one out yourself.”

The woman first counted out the copper coins for Song Ning, then picked out a “Flower of Prosperity” window decoration from the bamboo screen in the back. “Your window decorations are beautifully cut, too—get me a few of those as well.”

With this combination of sales and freebies, Song Ning’s business in couplets was booming. When Chen Cuihua returned carrying her basket, she saw that all the couplets in the back had actually sold out, and even the window decorations piled on the ground had dwindled considerably.

“Ning-ger, you’ve sold so many!”

Song Ning grinned so widely his little fangs showed. “Mom, I never expected business to be this good.”

All morning long, copper coins had clinked and clattered into the cash box, piling up into a thick layer.

Chen Cuihua had sold quite a few of her paper cutouts as well. She untied the money pouch from her bosom and emptied it all into the cash box with a clatter. “It’s almost noon. You and your brother Huzi go ahead and have lunch. There aren’t many people around right now, so I’ll watch the stall for a bit.”

“Okay.”

Song Ning grabbed a handful of copper coins before heading off to eat with Wei Hu. Song Ning walked with a light, springy step, and seeing him so happy, the corners of Wei Hu’s mouth turned up too.

Song Ning turned back with a smile. “Brother Wei Hu, let’s have beef and glass noodle soup today.” “Sure.”

“Let’s have Mom join us later.”

Now that he’d earned some copper coins, he was willing to spend them. Song Ning didn’t have time to count them, but it looked like he’d made quite a bit.

The two went to the shop and ordered two bowls of beef and glass noodle soup, along with a large flatbread. The soup cost twenty wen per bowl—something they usually couldn’t afford—but since they’d earned some copper coins today, they were going to treat themselves!

There was a bit more beef in this bowl than in the offal soup they’d had before. Song Ning scooped up some chili oil, eating until his lips turned red. Wei Hu told him to tear off a piece of the flatbread, but Song Ning shook his head and declined—the bowl was huge, and he’d be stuffed after finishing it.

After finishing the bowl of beef and glass noodle soup, he felt warm all over. The two of them went back to mind the stall and called Chen Cuihua over to eat. When she heard they were having beef and glass noodle soup, Chen Cuihua let out a little “Ooh,” saying, “I haven’t had this in ages either.”

After eating, Chen Cuihua slung her basket over her shoulder and headed back to the alley to hawk her wares. Wei Hu stayed with Song Ning to mind the stall. There were fewer people in the afternoon, and it felt even colder once the sun wasn’t beating down so fiercely. The two of them packed up the stall, and by the time Chen Cuihua returned, the three of them headed home together.

Wei Hu drove the cart, with Song Ning and Chen Cuihua sitting on board. Song Ning was quite pleased—business had been good today. “It’s just that nobody wanted those two hanging scrolls. If I’d known, I would’ve painted just one. That paper is so expensive.”

“It’s okay, we still have a few days left,” Chen Cuihua reassured him.

Once home, Chen Cuihua lit a fire in the room, and Song Ning set out his brush and ink again. He hadn’t expected business to be this good; if he’d known, he would have prepared more supplies. Song Ning wrote his calligraphy and hung it up to dry at the back; the grain sacks were covered with it, and the bright red color actually looked quite nice.

Chen Cuihua filled his hot-water bottle with hot water. “Ning-ger, go rest for a bit now that you’re home. You can write later.” 

“Mom, we’re counting on these few days to make some money. I need to write as much as I can.”

Wei Hu fed the ox in the courtyard—it would take another full day to finish. He went inside and gathered some dried goods to take along with the delivery. Song Ning called out to him, “Brother Wei Hu, take some couplets and window decorations to the village chief’s house. They’ll need them for the New Year.”

“Sure.” Wei Hu quickly counted in his head how many doors the village chief’s house had, rolled up a few pairs of couplets, grabbed some ‘Fu’ characters, and set off to deliver the ox to the village chief’s home.

The village chief was quite pleased to receive the gifts. The Wei family certainly knew how to make a good impression—the ox was well-fed, and they’d brought quite a few presents. The village chief said, “Just come and haul the ox away tomorrow.”

The main hall was quite warm with the charcoal fire burning; there was one placed right by Song Ning’s feet, and he was holding a hot water bottle in his hands. While a cold wind blew outside, the room was cozy and warm.

Chen Cuihua came out carrying the money box. She dumped its contents onto the table with a clatter and began counting them, stringing the coins together in bundles of one hundred with hemp twine. Listening to the clinking of the copper coins from the east room, Song Ning’s spirits lifted.