Chen Cuihua worked quickly. Although her family had started preparing a bit late, she rolled up her sleeves and got right to work, washing meat and vegetables, bustling about nonstop.

Song Ning stood nearby, stoking the fire and adding water, occasionally pitching in with whatever he could.

When he offered to help wash the vegetables, Chen Cuihua gave a little “Ah” and shooed him aside. “You’re not needed. You’ve been worn out these past few days, Ning-ger. Just help your mother tend the fire.”

Wei Hu had also taken the chicken outside to slaughter it. After cleaning it up, he began cutting it up, then mincing the meat and kneading the dough. Fortunately, the kitchen was quite spacious, so the three of them could work inside without feeling cramped.

This was truly a good year. The family had a new addition—a clever and capable ger. The heavy burden that had weighed on her family, the so-called “wife-killing curse,” had finally been lifted. The three of them had saved quite a bit of silver over the past few months. It really was a good year.

Chen Cuihua was now full of energy; she felt more and more that ever since Ning-ger had come to live with them, their family’s fortunes had begun to prosper.

Since they were in such a rush today, it had already been dark for a while by the time the dumplings were wrapped. Chen Cuihua was in a good mood today and didn’t mind the cost of the oil lamps; she lit two of them just in the kitchen.

“Let’s eat the dumplings first. After dinner, I’ll make something special for you guys.” 

“Okay.”

Song Ning’s eyes crinkled with laughter. Although there were only three of them in the household, life felt wonderfully lively.

A bamboo steamer was piled high with round, plump dumplings. Some had filling oozing out from the edges—those were the ones Song Ning had made. They made Chen Cuihua laugh so hard she couldn’t stop. “The ones Ning-ger had made are for your Huzi to eat later.”

The village was bustling right now; the crackling sound of firecrackers hadn’t stopped, and the aroma of meat drifted over from time to time. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, and even in poor households, they’d set aside a little meat to eat. After a year of hard work, they certainly couldn’t go without a good meal for a few days.

Steam rose from the large iron pot as it bubbled and boiled, pushing the dumplings to the surface. Chen Cuihua stirred gently with a ladle.

“Ning-ger, go with your brother Huzi and set off the firecrackers. Once they’re done, we’ll have dinner.” 

“Okay!”

Song Ning ran to the main hall to fetch the firecrackers. Although no one was in the hall at the moment, the oil lamps were lit—all three rooms were illuminated, bright and beautiful.

“Brother Wei Hu, here you go.”

Wei Hu took them with a smile. “You light them, or should I?” 

“Why don’t I do it?”

“Alright.”

Wei Hu draped the long string of firecrackers over a stick and held it up. Song Ning skipped happily to the kitchen to grab a red-hot stick. Chen Cuihua teased him with a smile, “Ning-ger, you’d better run fast in a minute.”

“Mom, I can run really fast.”

Wei Hu had originally planned to let Song Ning play with the firecrackers by holding them on the stick, but since the ger was too scared, he decided to let him light them instead. Wei Hu stood in the light by the kitchen doorway so that Song Ning could see clearly when it was time to light them.

Song Ning stretched his arm out as far as he could, still holding a long stick in his hand. He aimed it at the firecrackers and tried to run away, but when he missed, he aimed it at the string of firecrackers again, and the crackling sound of firecrackers erupted.

Song Ning let out a yelp, dropped the stick, and ran off in a hurry. “Brother Wei Hu!”

The courtyard was pitch-black, and with nowhere to run, Song Ning threw himself into Wei Hu’s arms. Wei Hu smiled slightly, holding a string of firecrackers in one hand while covering the ger’s ears with the other.

Once the firecrackers had burned out, the smell of gunpowder hung in the air. Leaning against Wei Hu, Song Ning giggled, “Brother Wei Hu, wake me up tomorrow morning so I can light the firecrackers.”

“Sure.”

The ger was both scared and eager to play, and Wei Hu felt that this year was truly a good one. No matter how he looked at the ger laughing in his arms, he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Time for dumplings! Come inside quickly.”

Chen Cuihua called out, and the two finally went inside. The three of them sat around the small dining table in the kitchen, each with a large bowl of dumplings. Wei Hu’s bowl indeed contained quite a few oddly shaped dumplings—all made by Song Ning. Seeing this, Song Ning was so delighted that his two little fangs peeked out.

Some of the charcoal from the stove in the kitchen had been scooped out and placed nearby to keep the room warm. It was cozy in there—even Hei Dou got a few dumplings. A half-grown little colored cat was lying at Song Ning’s feet; with two plump dumplings in its bowl, it lay there eating without even lifting its head.

Song Ning really loved the Chinese cabbage and pork dumplings Chen Cuihua had made. They tasted especially fragrant—the dough was chewy, the meat filling sweet and aromatic, and with every bite, oil would seep out. After finishing a whole bowl, Song Ning’s belly was as round as a ball.

“Ning-ger, there’s more in the pot. Go get a few more.” Chen Cuihua urged Song Ning to eat more. “Oh, I almost forgot. Don’t eat any more—save some room. I’ll fry some meat for you in a bit.”

Song Ning rubbed his belly; he was already stuffed.

After eating, the three of them rested for a while. There was no rush to pack up the New Year’s supplies now; they could take their time. Chen Cuihua had originally planned to fry the meat this afternoon, but who would have thought they’d run into the Cao family, which had delayed everything. Still, it didn’t matter—she could just light the oil lamp and fry it by lamplight.

Chen Cuihua was now leisurely slicing radishes into thin strips. She beat some eggs, mixed in batter, and soon began frying vegetarian meatballs. She also prepared some meatballs and set out two bowls of crispy pork.

It’s the end of the year now; there’s no need to scrimp anymore. After all, isn’t this the time of year we look forward to eating something nice? A few years back, Chen Cuihua wouldn’t even dare to use oil when cooking, but look at her now—she’s actually deep-frying things.

Chen Cuihua used a small cast-iron pot for frying, but the large cast-iron pot beside it wasn’t idle either. She stoked the fire beneath the stove and steamed four bowls of braised pork belly and four bowls of eight-treasure porridge in it.

Chen Cuihua was a thrifty woman. If she’d only steamed the pork, there would have been some empty space left in the pot, and since she’d already burned so much firewood, she added a few more bowls of eight-treasure porridge to the pot—she’d just need to reheat it when it was time to eat.

Song Ning tended to the two pots, stoking the fire, while Chen Cuihua and Wei Hu fried the food. The kitchen was warm and cozy, and Song Ning yawned contentedly.

Chen Cuihua fried a batch of small meatballs first, worried that Song Ning might get drowsy later and miss out. As soon as they were done, she called Song Ning over to eat. Song Ning held a small bowl in his hands, filled with four golden brown meatballs.

So fragrant~

Song Ning was still full, but when he took a bite, the outside was crispy and the inside soft. He ate two and couldn’t eat any more, so he pinched the remaining two and stuffed them into Wei Hu’s mouth.

He didn’t touch the crispy pork slices or vegetarian meatballs fried later either. Instead, he sat down by the fire with Xiao Caili in his arms to stay up all night.

After finishing frying, Chen Cuihua urged the two to go to bed. They were both exhausted from the day’s activities, and keeping vigil or not didn’t really matter. “Go to sleep now. I’ll keep watch here.”

Song Ning’s eyelids were getting heavy; it was warm, and he just wanted to sleep.

Chen Cuihua went into the house and brought Song Ning a package wrapped in red paper. “New Year’s money. Put it under your pillow—it’ll keep our Ning-ger safe and sound.”

Only then did Song Ning remember that he’d bought some silk flowers for his mother. With all the chaos this afternoon, he’d put them in the basket—he hoped they hadn’t gotten crushed.

Song Ning hurried to the main hall to look for it. The silk flower was sitting safely in the basket. Song Ning breathed a sigh of relief, took it out, and held it out to Chen Cuihua. “Mother, this is for you. Brother Wei Hu and I picked it out together.”

Chen Cuihua looked both surprised and delighted. “For me?”

Chen Cuihua smiled so broadly that her eyes disappeared. “Your mother’s already this old, and I’m still wearing flowers in my hair.” 

“Mother’s still young.”

Chen Cuihua wiped her hands and carefully took it. “I’ll wear it tomorrow.” A smile tugged at Wei Hu’s lips. No wonder his mother liked Ning-ger so much.

The two went inside, washed their feet, and settled down to rest. Song Ning yawned and rested his head on Wei Hu’s chest. “Brother Wei Hu, it looks like we’ll be able to buy an oxcart come spring. We’ve saved up fifteen taels of silver so far, and selling the couplets these past few days should bring in another seven or eight taels. Add the ten taels we brought in today, and that’s over thirty taels.”

Song Ning had been running around nonstop these past few days. He hadn’t even had time to count the coins he’d saved from selling paper couplets, window decorations, and firewood—that should amount to about five taels—plus the two hanging scrolls, which added another two taels of silver.

Wei Hu hummed in acknowledgment. “Go to sleep.”

“Brother Wei Hu, I’ve never bought you anything, and I don’t have anything to give you.” Song Ning propped his head up.

“What do you want? We don’t have to get up that early tomorrow anyway.”

Wei Hu reached out with his big hand and pressed the ger’s head back down. “Don’t be a nuisance. Go to sleep early and get some rest.”

“Oh, all right then.”

Song Ning fell asleep in no time. He’d been getting up early these past few days and hadn’t had a moment’s rest since returning—he was genuinely exhausted. Wei Hu held Song Ning close and let out a long sigh. How had he managed to marry such a wonderful ger?

When Song Ning opened his eyes, it was already broad daylight outside. He was alone in the room. Song Ning stretched lazily; it looked like it was already late.

Song Ning changed into another new jacket and tied his favorite blue satin headband around his head. He threw his white rabbit-fur coat over it, making him look even softer and more delicate.

As he lifted the straw curtain, he saw that it had actually started snowing again. The ground was blanketed in white—no wonder the room was so bright.

Song Ning first rolled up the curtain to let more light in. Stepping outside, he saw Wei Hu sweeping the snow in the courtyard. “Brother Wei Hu, you’re up early.”

“There’s eight-treasure porridge in the pot. Go get some to eat.” 

“Okay.”

With a rare moment of leisure, Song Ning strolled leisurely into the kitchen. First, he ruffled the fur of the little cat curled up beside the stove to keep warm. The little creature was quite lazy in winter and loved to lounge by the fire.

After washing up, Song Ning brought out a small bowl of eight-treasure porridge. There was also a bowl of steamed eggs left in the pot.

Song Ning really loved that bowl of eight-treasure porridge. It contained brown sugar, red dates, glutinous rice, and mixed grains. It had been steamed for who knows how long—it was sweet and soft.

“Ning-ger!”

Qiu-ger’s sudden call startled Song Ning, but he broke into a smile. “I was just thinking I’d come find you after I ate. Do you want some eight-treasure porridge? It’s pretty sweet.”

Qiu-ger sat down beside him. Today he was wearing a bright new jacket with little flowers embroidered on the chest, and black cotton shoes on his feet—he was dressed entirely in new clothes, and he was even holding a hot water bottle in his hands.

“Don’t say that. I came looking for you first thing this morning, but you weren’t awake yet, so I went back home. Now I’m back again.”

Song Ning found a spoon for Qiu-ger. He scooped up two spoonfuls to taste it—he was planning to go home for a meat meal at noon, so he wanted to save some room.

“You bought a hot water bottle— it’s really nice.”

“Yeah! Dazhuang bought it for me!”

After eating, the two went out to play. Wei Hu tagged along, too. Since he was out paying New Year’s calls, he didn’t stick with Ning-ger—what would he be doing hanging around while the gers chatted?