Farmers look forward to the few days of the New Year all year long. The men gather to play cards and chat about the harvest, while the women and Fulang get together to share lively conversation.

The children, with a few copper coins in their pockets and dressed in their finest clothes, run about in groups of three or five, playing. Peddlers wandering the streets and alleys have also become more numerous; carrying two boxes on their shoulders, they draw out their voices to hawk their wares, which mostly consist of inexpensive items like clay whistles and candied hawthorn.

Song Ning didn’t go out often; he’d spent the whole winter holed up at home working to earn a few coins.

Qiu-ger wasn’t one to gossip with others either, but since it was the New Year, both of them had come out for a stroll.

Qiu-ger hooked his arm through Song Ning’s, walking along affectionately, which pushed Wei Hu to the side. “I just heard a kid say the village blind man is playing the erhu over there. Let’s go check it out and join the fun.”

There wasn’t much to do in the countryside. During the New Year, people mostly gathered to chat and have a good time. From a distance, they could see a crowd packed onto the open space at the village entrance.

Someone was burning a tree stump—no one knew where it came from—and the groups huddled together, creating quite a lively scene.

“You go play with Qiu-ger. I’ll go over there and watch the others play Yezi cards,” Wei Hu said.

“Alright, go ahead.”

Song Ning smiled. He was a grown man—he wasn’t going to get lost.

Although the village entrance was always bustling, it was rare to see such a large crowd as today. Groups of three or five men sat on the ground playing leaf cards, using a few copper coins as stakes, and they began playing with loud shouts.

Women and men were gathered around the bonfire chatting idly, while others stood in a circle listening to someone play the erhu. Song Ning even spotted his mother, Chen Cuihua, warming herself by the fire with a few others.

His mother was dressed up today as well. She had made herself a new jacket this year but had been too reluctant to wear it until now; today, for the New Year, she had finally put it on. On the side of the cloth headscarf she wore was the smoke-brown silk flower Song Ning had given her. Squeezed into the crowd, she was all smiles, chatting away about who knows what.

Song Ning, meanwhile, was jostling with Qiu-ger to watch the erhu performance and listen to the folk songs. Qiu-ger whispered to Song Ning, “I just came over for a quick look, but you weren’t up yet. It was no fun by myself, so I went back home.”

“Your mother was talking about what happened yesterday. Now no one will dare say Brother Huzi is a wife-killer anymore.”

Song Ning went, “Oh.” No wonder his mother had been mingling with the crowd today—she’d gone to clear Brother Wei Hu’s name. His mother wasn’t one to mingle in crowds; even when she went out for a stroll, she’d only visit a few neighbors nearby. Song Ning’s lips curled into a smile. His Brother Wei Hu certainly didn’t bring bad luck to his wives.

The two stood to the side listening to the erhu music. Song Ning’s pouch was filled with sunflower seeds and sesame candy. He grabbed a handful and handed it to Qiu-ger to eat. The two of them munched away as they watched the erhu performance.

In the center of the crowd sat a half-blind, gaunt old man. Perched on a stool with his legs crossed, he swayed his head from side to side as he played and sang. Beside him, a frail young boy held a small bowl—a ger—with a few scattered copper coins lying inside.

It was the dead of winter, and the ger was dressed so lightly that Song Ning couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

The old man sang humorous songs about everyday life—quarrels between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law, young men and women exchanging flirtatious glances—and his performance had everyone bursting into laughter.

Song Ning and Qiu-ger also giggled. The old man’s performance was indeed entertaining. Song Ning reached into his waistband, pulled out a few copper coins, and dropped them into the ger’s bowl. Qiu-ger murmured, “Ning-ger, you’re giving him so much.”

Qiu-ger also fished out a few copper coins and dropped them into the boy’s bowl.

The two had already left home late, and after watching for a while, it was nearly noon. Having joined in the festivities for a bit, they decided to head home.

Seeing that Song Ning was about to leave, Chen Cuihua stood up as well. “It’s getting late, getting late. We should go home for lunch.” 

“It’s still early. Cuihua, why don’t you stay a little longer?”

“No, no, I should be heading home for dinner.” Chen Cuihua smiled brightly as she walked away with Song Ning, and even Wei Hu, who had been watching them play cards nearby, followed along.

As soon as they left, the men and women warming themselves by the fire began to whisper among themselves. “So it turns out that ger they’d arranged for him to marry ran off with another man.”

Granny Sun interjected. “That family was actually quite reasonable—they even got the ten taels of silver back.”

“Tsk, if the Wei family hadn’t gotten such a reputation back then, they wouldn’t have had any trouble finding Fulang or wives.” 

Someone gave Li Gui’er’s daughter-in-law a knowing look. “Don’t you agree?”

Li Gui’er’s daughter-in-law let out a little “Ouch!”

“Auntie, why bring that up? It was just kids fooling around. Now they’ve all started their own families—everyone has to make a living, don’t they?”

Li Gui’er’s daughter-in-law didn’t want to get involved in this gossip. Her younger sister-in-law had been married for over a month now; the matter was long past.

After all that commotion, with her younger sister-in-law married off, her mother-in-law, Li Guifen, felt embarrassed and didn’t want to mingle with others. Her energy and spirit weren’t what they used to be. Now that there were two fewer people to butt heads with, Li Gui’er’s daughter-in-law found life much more comfortable.

“That Chen Cuihua really dotes on her Fulang. As soon as she saw Ning-ger heading home, she hurried after him to cook dinner. I’ve never seen a mother-in-law attend to her son-in-law like that.”

“Stop being so bitter. If my son could help bring in some silver, I wouldn’t just cook for him—I’d even hold his bowl and feed him myself.”

Back when Song Ning first married into Daliushu Village, many people said he was a spoiled young master who couldn’t do a thing. Now, he can write couplets, paint, and even cut paper cutouts—and they heard he’s made quite a bit of money doing it.

Someone couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity, “Granny Sun, didn’t your Qiu-ger learn how to cut paper cutouts from Ning-ger? He must have made quite a bit these past few days.”

Granny Sun wasn’t stupid; she wasn’t about to tell anyone exactly how much silver he’d made. “It’s just kids playing around—how could they possibly earn more than a few copper coins?”

Granny Sun got up and headed home. “It’s nearly noon—aren’t you all in a hurry to get home for lunch?”

After Granny Sun left, the crowd started gossiping about her again. “Listen to her nonsense! If they weren’t making a penny, would her whole family of three be running into town? I’ve seen Granny Sun’s family splurging quite a bit this year.”

The crowd at the village entrance began trickling home. It was a rare day off from work, and with a good meal waiting at home, everyone headed back—even the half-blind old man packed up his things and left.

While some rejoiced, others grieved. 

On this New Year’s Day, the Cao household was in an uproar as well.  Later, it was heard that the Caos had filed a lawsuit against Yang Wen, and after this ordeal, Cao-ger had finally seen the truth.

Song Ning and Qiu-ger had walked part of the way before heading home separately. By now, people were starting to cook, and Song Ning could already smell the aroma of meat. He was getting a bit hungry; he licked his lips. A while ago, he hadn’t been hungry and had only eaten a few mouthfuls of eight-treasure porridge, but now that he could smell the meat, he wanted some.

“Hungry?”

Song Ning nodded. “Brother Wei Hu, what are we having for lunch?”

Chen Cuihua said with a laugh, “There’s plenty to eat. Why don’t we have hot pot with lamb? Your brother Huzi cut it up yesterday, and I’ve already simmered the bone broth. We just need to bring it to a boil.”

They’d gotten home too late yesterday to prepare much, but now that they had some free time, the family could enjoy a nice meal. The Wei family didn’t have many relatives, so the New Year’s provisions were all for their own consumption—there was no need to set anything aside for guests.

Everything was ready to go. All they had to do was light the fire, set the small iron pot on top, pour in the bone broth—simmered until it turned milky white—and arrange the sliced fresh lamb, frozen tofu, lotus root, crispy pork strips, and meatballs around the edges.

Wei Hu lifted the straw mat covering the vegetable patch; underneath were some cilantro plants. He picked a few and washed them. Chen Cuihua hurriedly said, “Huzi, just pluck them with your hands—don’t use a knife.”

“Yeah, got it.”

“Mom, why can’t we use knives?”

This was the first time Song Ning had heard of this custom. Chen Cuihua let out a little “Ouch!” and explained, “Ning-ger, you don’t know? On New Year’s Day, you mustn’t use knives or scissors—it’ll ruin your luck for the whole year.”

Back when Song Ning was living the good life at the Song household, he’d never had to do chores like cooking, so how would he know about this custom? 

He nodded in agreement, “I understand, Mother.”

Chen Cuihua chuckled. “I’ve heard some elders say that Fulangs and wives spend the whole year either cooking or mending clothes. Now that the New Year has finally arrived, we shouldn’t let them touch kitchen knives or scissors—it’s only fair to let these hardworking Fulangs and wives rest after a year of toil, isn’t it?”

“Mother, what you say makes a lot of sense. After working so hard all year, everyone really deserves a good rest.”

Wei Hu plucked some cilantro with his fingers, placing a bit in each person’s bowl, then brought over the sesame paste and chili oil. Whoever wanted some could help themselves.

Song Ning held his hands out to warm them by the fire. This was his first time having a mutton hot pot this year; Brother Wei Hu had cut up two pounds of mutton, enough for the three of them.

Song Ning added some sesame paste to his bowl, and Chen Cuihua scooped out two small pieces of red fermented tofu, using her chopsticks to scrape a bit into his bowl, making the aroma even more enticing.

The lamb had been frozen before being sliced. Wei Hu was a skilled knife-handler; he cut it into paper-thin slices. As soon as they hit the pot, the edges curled up. Coated in thick sesame paste, the aroma was so intoxicating that Song Ning squinted his eyes slightly. Delicious!

Although his family was much better off than others when it came to food, lamb was expensive, so they only bought two pounds of it during the New Year. The sesame paste had also been bought in a small jar just yesterday, specifically to go with the lamb.

Wei Hu picked up a large serving of the blanched lamb with his chopsticks and placed it in Song Ning’s bowl. “Eat up.” 

“Brother Wei Hu, you should eat more too—you do such hard physical labor.”

After finishing the lamb, they served some meatballs and vegetables. Song Ning’s little face turned rosy from eating—so delicious!

By the time they finished eating, the weather had cleared up. The sun had come out—even though it had snowed last night, today was sunny. Chen Cuihua went to visit neighbors after eating and asked Song Ning if he wanted to come along, but Song Ning didn’t feel like going and shook her head to decline.

“Want to go play at Qiu-ger’s house?” Wei Hu asked.

Song Ning hesitated for a moment. There had been an unpleasant incident between his family and Granny Sun before, and he hadn’t been to Qiu-ger’s house since then. “Let’s go. I haven’t given Qiu-ger his New Year’s gift yet.”

Song Ning slung a basket over his shoulder, filled it with a bowl of eight-treasure porridge, and, seeing that the weather was fine, asked Wei Hu to help him carry the little cat as they went visiting.

When Song Ning arrived, the Sun family had just finished their meal. Qiu-ger was washing dishes in the kitchen, but the first person he saw was Granny Sun, sitting in the courtyard soaking up the sun. Upon seeing Song Ning and Wei Hu, she immediately broke into a broad smile. “Oh, it’s Ning-ger! Come sit down, come sit down.”

Granny Sun’s warmth took Song Ning by surprise; after all, she’d gossiped about him quite a bit in the past. Qiu-ger poked his head out from the kitchen, “Ning-ger, take a seat first. I’ll be done in a moment.”

Sun Dazhuang stepped in to take over. “Go play with your friend. I’ll wash them.”

“Alright, then make sure to use hot water. There’s grease on this bowl.”

“Got it.