On New Year’s Eve, all the masters of the Luo manor gathered together for the reunion feast.

In the capital, custom dictated eating dumplings at the hour of the rat, symbolizing the passing of the old year and welcoming of the new. Once the exact midnight hour arrived, the sound of firecrackers outside became incessant, and maidservants filed in, placing steaming hot dumplings before the masters.

Grand Marshal Luo raised his wine cup, his gaze sweeping from his eldest daughter to his second daughter, then over his third daughter, fourth daughter, and finally Luo Chen. He couldn’t help feeling deeply moved: Another year had passed. Last year at this time during the reunion feast, it was these four daughters and one son accompanying him.

As for matters like having daughters and sons-in-law come pay New Year respects on the second day—that was non-existent.

After drinking a mouthful of wine, Grand Marshal Luo called out: “Eat the dumplings.”

The several people picked up the silver chopsticks beside them and carefully took a bite of a dumpling.

From experience, nine times out of ten one would bite into hard objects like gold ruyi or gold peanuts—without being careful there was risk of hurting one’s teeth.

Sure enough, Luo Chen frowned first and spat out a small gold peanut, followed by Luo Ying and the others covering their mouths with handkerchiefs to spit out the hard objects they’d eaten.

Only Luo Sheng’s expression remained unchanged as she swallowed a sugar lump, receiving several concerned gazes.

“Third Sister, you swallowed it?” Luo Yue was shocked.

It seemed there was a misunderstanding.

Luo Sheng explained: “I got sugar.”

The several people showed obvious relief.

Good, good—she hadn’t swallowed anything strange.

Grand Marshal Luo laughed heartily: “Eating sugar is a good omen, predicting sweetness and beauty in the coming year. Everyone continue eating.”

The several people continued eating dumplings, eating one and spitting out a gold ruyi, eating another and spitting out a gold peanut.

Luo Chen couldn’t bear it anymore and asked: “Father, are they all dumplings with gold filling?”

Grand Marshal Luo was somewhat embarrassed: “Getting one on the first bite is auspicious. I was afraid you wouldn’t get any, so I put in several extra.”

Good fortune and longevity—these were his wishes for his children.

Especially in these times when the realm was about to fall into chaos.

Luo Yue secretly glanced at Luo Sheng and couldn’t help saying: “But it seems Third Sister didn’t get any gold ruyi or such—”

She had seen it—Third Sister had picked up several dumplings in succession and eaten them all properly.

Luo Sheng said calmly: “I got one sugar dumpling, one rice cake dumpling, one red date dumpling, and then they were all normal cabbage and tofu filling.”

Several people looked at Grand Marshal Luo in unison, their eyes conveying accusation.

Grand Marshal Luo calmly explained: “Sheng’er has an impatient temperament. If she accidentally swallowed a gold ruyi, that would be troublesome. Alright, the layer below is all cabbage and tofu filling. Everyone eat while it’s hot.”

In previous years, there was only one special dumpling per bowl as a token gesture. This year, being especially worried, he put in more—yet these little brats had so much to say.

Grand Marshal Luo picked up a cabbage and tofu dumpling and ate it, nodding with satisfaction.

Sheng’er’s cook truly had excellent skills. Even bland and flavorless cabbage and tofu filling could be made this delicious—even better than mutton filling dumplings.

Indeed, Grand Marshal Luo loved mutton filling dumplings most.

Thin-skinned, generously-filled mutton dumplings dipped in fragrant vinegar—one bite and the tender meat with abundant juices was incredibly fragrant.

However, his family’s New Year tradition required eating cabbage and tofu filling, and every year at this time Grand Marshal Luo ate them with a bitter expression.

Since tasting the vegetarian dumplings made by Xiu Gu, Grand Marshal Luo felt he could easily eat three bowls.

If the realm truly fell into chaos, besides protecting the children, he must also protect Sheng’er’s cook—this thought vaguely flashed through Grand Marshal Luo’s mind as he downed a mouthful of wine.

Having finally eaten light and delicious vegetarian dumplings, Luo Ying and the others escaped the shadow of eating gold and felt the joy of the New Year.

Regardless of everything else, having the whole family gathered together was good.

Outside, the sound of firecrackers continued incessantly. Although the shadow of war loomed, it was still distant, and the capital remained enveloped in the festive New Year atmosphere.

At this time, however, a force marching eastward had just set up camp and was welcoming the New Year in the bitter cold wind.

Large pots were set up beside bonfires, steam rising from them with savory aromas.

The soldiers smelling the aroma kept swallowing their saliva.

From assembly to departure, they had almost constantly traveled through wind and snow, only able to eat something hot for the evening meal each day. Being able to drink meat soup like today was especially rare.

“Dinner is served!” With the cook’s shout, countless soldiers crowded around.

Shi Huo delivered Wei Han’s evening meal: “Master, time to eat.”

The same meat soup as the soldiers, except with a few more meat threads floating in it. The baked flatbread was hard as a rock, but at least it was warm.

What distinguished it from what ordinary soldiers received was a palm-sized water pouch containing liquor.

“Set it down.” Wei Han didn’t pick up his chopsticks but instead took the water pouch, pulled out the stopper, and drank a mouthful of liquor.

The strong liquor entered his throat, and his body that had been beaten by cold wind all day seemed to flow with warmth, becoming much more comfortable.

Wei Han gently stroked the water pouch.

The liquor was brought from the Youjian Tavern. As they traveled farther and farther from the capital, it became increasingly precious.

Last year during New Year, what he eagerly anticipated was the Youjian Tavern opening early. He never expected that this year he would be spending New Year on the road.

At this moment, Miss Luo must be eating dumplings, right?

Having spent much time in the northern territories, he ate sauerkraut filling dumplings for New Year. He didn’t know what filling Miss Luo was eating.

Whatever filling it was, it must be delicious.

Thinking this, Wei Han’s slightly upturned lips curved into a smile.

“Master, if you don’t eat soon it will get cold.” Shi Huo reminded him.

Wei Han came back to his senses and picked up the meat soup, sipping it in small mouthfuls.

His stomach, spoiled by the Youjian Tavern, had been expressing dissatisfaction with him these past days.

Yet Wei Han realized with surprise that compared to not being able to eat the Youjian Tavern’s food and wine, the greater regret for him seemed to be not having seen Miss Luo before departing.

He hadn’t personally told her that he would return early.

To tell her that if he returned in winter, he wanted to eat sauerkraut and white meat hotpot; in spring he wanted fresh bamboo shoot and old duck soup; in summer he wanted large slices of thinly-cut braised beef; and in autumn they should eat drunken crabs—perfect with liquor.

Wei Han imagined this as he picked up the baked flatbread.

The flatbread had already grown cold and hard as stone. He broke it into pieces bit by bit and ate it soaked in the meat soup.

Countless soldiers sat around bonfires, eating meat soup-soaked flatbread like Wei Han, thoughts of home spreading through their hearts.

As days passed, the officials searching for the evildoers who assassinated the princes’ heirs gradually lost confidence. Emperor Yong’an waited and waited for results without success—naturally his mood was not good.

On the Lantern Festival, Emperor Yong’an took Noble Consort Xiao to ascend Xuande Tower to admire lanterns and relax.

Considering that Noble Consort Xiao was pregnant, Emperor Yong’an only summoned a few recently favored concubines to accompany them, including Consort An. As for the imperial relatives and nobility who in past years had the honor of ascending Xuande Tower, this year only Princess Changle had this privilege.

As evening approached, the area before Xuande Tower was already brilliantly illuminated. Emperor Yong’an and Noble Consort Xiao ascended the tall tower hand in hand to view the myriad lanterns.

Princess Changle stood in a corner, her peripheral vision sweeping over the smiling pair, her eyes growing cold.