Fan Changyu finally managed to endure the smoke, blinking to squeeze out the tears caused by the fumes. Feeling somewhat better, she looked up to find Xie Zheng staring at her with an inexplicable expression. She patted the top of her head and asked, “Is there ash in my hair?”
The wind was strong at that moment, and indeed, quite a bit of joss paper ash had settled on her head and shoulders.
Xie Zheng averted his gaze, lowered his eyes, and nodded.
Fan Changyu haphazardly patted herself, but as she did so, the ash spread and stuck to her body.
Changningg, seeing this, ran over on her short legs and puffed out her cheeks, saying, “Let Ning blow it off for you.”
Fan Changyu lowered her head to let her younger sister help blow away the ash from her hair. However, Changningg was small and lacked the strength to blow it clean. She tugged at Xie Zheng’s sleeve, tilted her head up, and said, “Brother-in-law, please blow it off.”
Xie Zheng looked at Fan Changyu, who was half-squatting on the ground letting her sister help remove the ash from her hair. From his angle, he could just see a glimpse of her fair nape and half of her beautiful profile. As she spoke to her sister, there was a gentle smile on her lips.
When Fan Changyu heard Changningg ask Xie Zheng to help blow away the ash from her hair, she had already raised her head and said, “It’s almost gone, let’s go back…”
The last word caught in her throat.
Xie Zheng raised his hand and gently brushed away the smoke and ash from the top of her head. His touch was very light, barely grazing her hair, but the slight tickle caused by the movement of her hair made Fan Changyu stiffen for a moment.
It felt completely different from when she did it herself, though she couldn’t quite explain how.
After removing the last trace of ash from her hair, Xie Zheng withdrew his hand and said, “It’s done.”
Fan Changyu met his dark, inscrutable eyes and said dryly, “Thank you.”
By the time they returned home from the ancestor worship, it was nearly noon. Fan Changyu stewed a pig’s trotter, sliced some Chinese sausage, reheated a previously steamed pork belly, and finally stir-fried a plate of dried vegetables to cut through the greasiness. The three of them made do with this for lunch.
The dried vegetables were made during the green vegetable harvest season. After boiling and sun-drying the vegetables, they were stored away. Every household in town knew this technique, which was said to have been invented during the famine years as a way to store as much food as possible.
Compared to fresh greens, the dried vegetables had a richer aroma. After rehydrating and chopping them finely, they were stir-fried with ginger and garlic, resulting in a dish even more fragrant than meat.
After the meal, nearly half of the meat was left, but the plate of dried vegetables was finished.
The large bowl of minced meat mixed with offal next to the gyrfalcon’s cage was also emptied. The bird was now squinting its small eyes and using its beak to groom its feathers, which had turned a dingy gray from being placed near the fire pit.
After clearing away the bowls and chopsticks, Fan Changyu took out the red paper for the spring couplets and lanterns she had bought earlier and began to work on them.
Hanging spring couplets and big red lanterns on New Year’s Eve was an essential custom.
The brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all in Xie Zheng’s room. Fan Changyu, carrying a stack of spring couplet paper, knocked on his door.
On the writing desk, the paper was spread out, and the chipped inkstone was already filled with ground ink. As expected, he was sitting at the rickety desk writing something.
As his cool gaze swept over her, Fan Changyu scratched her head and asked shamelessly, “Um… do you know how to write spring couplets?”
Changningg, like a little shadow, also peeked out from the doorway, her eyes curved into crescents as she smiled, “Brother-in-law writing spring couplets!”
Xie Zheng put aside the half-written paper, making room on the desk, and said, “Bring them here.”
Fan Changyu then squeezed into the room with the spring couplet paper and Changningg, her little shadow.
After Xie Zheng laid out the spring couplet paper on the desk and dipped the brush in thick ink, there wasn’t much ink left in the inkstone. He turned his head slightly towards Fan Changyu and said, “Help me grind some more ink.”
Fan Changyu seemed to want to say something but held back. Seeing that he had already started writing the first powerful and graceful character on the spring couplet paper, she didn’t want to disturb him. She glanced at the inkstone and began grinding ink vigorously.
When Xie Zheng’s brush ran low on ink and he was about to dip it again, he saw the black mess in the inkstone and fell silent for a moment before saying, “That’s too much.”
It wasn’t just too much – she had nearly ground half a block of ink for writing one pair of couplets.
He couldn’t help but glance at her hands.
Thinking of her strength, he resigned himself to the situation.
Fan Changyu said sheepishly, “I was going to ask you how much to grind before I started…”
She could read and had been forced by her mother to learn how to write, albeit poorly. The four treasures of the study were precious, and she rarely ground ink herself. In the past, when her mother forced her to practice writing, her mother would prepare the ink and watch her write. She had no idea how much ink to grind.
Xie Zheng seemed to be used to such situations and said, “It’s not a problem to grind too much, just a waste if we can’t use it all.”
Fan Changyu stared at the ink stick she had ground down by more than half, feeling quite regretful.
She thought that Old Lady Zhao’s family probably hadn’t bought spring couplets either, and said, “Then let’s write a pair for Old Lady Zhao’s family too! We can use the leftover ink to write a few more pairs and hang one on each room’s door for good luck!”
This was the first time Xie Zheng had heard of such a way of hanging spring couplets. His handsome brows furrowed slightly, but then he found it somewhat amusing. A feeling of clarity that he couldn’t quite explain arose in his heart.
When he first met her, he only thought this woman was coarse, but now he felt that within that coarseness, there was a vigorous life force.
She was like wild grass in an untended field, growing upwards with sheer tenacity. She could break through frozen earth, split rocks, endure harsh winters, and survive scorching summers. No matter whether the emerging sprout faced frost or rain, the roots below continued to burrow deep into the thick soil, constantly providing nourishment for the sprout to grow upwards.
He glanced at the woman sitting at the side of the desk, resting her chin on her hand as she watched him write. Then he dipped his brush in thick ink and continued to write the second line of the couplet.
Snowflakes drifted in through the half-open window. The wind moved his wide sleeves and Fan Changyu’s long hair. As he finished writing, Fan Changyu leaned in to look at the couplet he had written, and a strand of her hair brushed across the back of his hand.
He paused in the act of lifting his brush, and a drop of ink fell onto the bottom of the couplet.
Fan Changyu let out a small “Ah” and said with some frustration, “Did I disturb you?”
Xie Zheng withdrew his gaze: “No, I just dipped too much ink.”
Fan Changyu looked at the couplet with some regret: “What a pity, the calligraphy is so beautiful. But it’s alright, we can hang it on my and Changningg’s door!”
Xie Zheng looked up and asked, “Do you like it?”
Fan Changyu nodded. She examined the couplet and read out the characters: “‘Ice melts, spring water flows; Snow clears, grass sprouts grow.’ I like the imagery of ice and snow melting to make way for spring grass.”
She smiled at Xie Zheng as she spoke: “When my mother used to write spring couplets for our family, she also didn’t like to write the kind of auspicious phrases sold in the market.”
Xie Zheng was momentarily dazed by her smile. He didn’t respond, but lowered his gaze and picked up his brush. With a few strokes, he turned the ink drop that had ruined the entire couplet into a small, evocative sketch of wild grass.
Fan Changyu and her sister both exclaimed “Oh!” in unison, their eyes unable to hide their delight.
Fan Changyu picked up the couplet and examined it repeatedly: “You can paint too?”
Xie Zheng said, “Just a little.”
Fan Changyu stared at the vibrant wild grass at the bottom of his spring couplet: “It’s more than enough.”
She looked up at Xie Zheng several times and said, “If you sold your calligraphy and paintings on the street, I think you could make a lot of money!”
With his looks and brush skills, surely many young women would be willing to buy his paintings!
Xie Zheng’s mouth, which had curved upwards slightly at her earlier praise, flattened again when he heard her last two sentences.
He said, “I don’t create art that doesn’t please me.”
Fan Changyu knew that he had always been ill-tempered, so such an answer didn’t surprise her. She watched as he continued to write the horizontal scroll.
He wrote four characters meaning “Endure until spring arrives.” His calligraphy was strong, seeming to carry the vigor and tenacity of wild grass breaking through the soil.
Fan Changyu already loved the couplet very much, and seeing this horizontal scroll made her even more satisfied.
To make it match, Xie Zheng also drew a few strokes of wild grass on the horizontal scroll and the upper scroll of the spring couplet paper.
Fan Changyu happily placed the completed couplet on the nearby cabinet to dry.
This couplet no longer had the ink stain, and the spring couplet paper they bought was only enough for three pairs. Fan Changyu still wanted to write a pair for Old Lady Zhao and her family, so she immediately decided to hang this pair at the main door.
The spring couplet Xie Zheng wrote for the two elders was a pair of auspicious phrases wishing for blessings, longevity, and good health.
When writing the last spring couplet, Changningg placed both hands on the desk, stood on her tiptoes, and said, “Ning wants to write too.”
Fan Changyu thought that since this couplet was just for their own home, she took out the paper for the horizontal scroll. She asked Xie Zheng to come up with a pair of verses, which he wrote on the paper. Then she guided her sister’s hand to copy them.
She helped Changningg write the horizontal scroll and then wrote the first line of the couplet in her scrawl.
Although the characters were ugly, Fan Changyu was quite satisfied with the result.
She handed the brush back to Xie Zheng: “You write the second line.”
Xie Zheng looked at the characters that were so large they almost spilled off the entire spring couplet paper. After a moment of silence, he wrote the second line in wild cursive script, which made it look less incongruous.
All the calligraphy styles he used deliberately avoided his usual handwriting, so that anyone familiar with his script wouldn’t recognize it.
Fan Changyu was about to finish up, but Changningg had slipped out of the room at some point and brought back the gyrfalcon from its cage in the main hall. Her eyes shining brightly, she looked at Fan Changyu and said, “Let’s add Xuan Xuan’s footprint too!”
Her way of holding the bird was quite particular: one chubby hand held its belly, while the other gripped its neck, clearly implying that if the gyrfalcon didn’t cooperate, she would simply grab it by the neck.
Xie Zheng met the gyrfalcon’s terrified and helpless gaze, feeling somewhat bemused.
These sisters must be blood-related.
Fan Changyu stroked the feathers on the gyrfalcon’s forehead, thought for a moment, and said, “Alright!”
She took the inkstone, lifted one of the gyrfalcon’s claws, dipped it in the ink, and pressed it onto the horizontal scroll after Changningg’s writing.
Still haunted by the memory of being tapped on the head, the gyrfalcon kept its wings tucked in and didn’t dare move throughout the process, its small eyes wide open, looking bewildered and pitiful.
After making the print, Fan Changyu used a damp cloth to clean the ink off the gyrfalcon’s foot before telling Changningg, “Take it back now.”
Changningg happily carried the gyrfalcon back to its cage in the main hall.
Fan Changyu went to the kitchen to find the leftover rice porridge from lunch. She first pasted the spring couplet created by the three of them and the gyrfalcon on the door frame of the main hall, then took the rice porridge paste outside to hang the “Endure until spring arrives” couplet.
When the elderly Zhao couple heard that Xie Zheng had written a couplet for them too, they came out to see Fan Changyu helping them paste the new couplet, smiling from ear to ear.
Other neighbors passing by in the alley saw this and asked curiously, “Changyu, your husband can write couplets too?”
Old Lady Zhao had always been unwilling to let people look down on Fan Changyu because of Song Yan’s affair. Hearing this question, she immediately said, “Of course! That young man is well-educated. Look at this calligraphy, it’s even better than the spring couplets sold on the street!”
In this small town, being able to read and write a few characters was considered a skill. Even if one couldn’t pass the county-level imperial examinations, just passing the child-level exam would significantly improve one’s status when arranging marriages.
The woman looked and nodded repeatedly, “It’s no worse than the spring couplets Song Yan used to write for everyone in previous years. Changyu knows how to pick a husband!”
She smiled at Fan Changyu and said, “Would your husband write a pair for your aunt too?”
In previous years, when the New Year approached, Song Yan would set up a stall in the market to write spring couplets for extra income. He wouldn’t charge the neighbors in the alley, as long as they brought their red paper. However, most people would still give him something as a gesture of gratitude when asking for his help.
This year, with Song Yan’s family having moved away, people would have to spend more than ten copper coins to have someone write spring couplets, and even ready-made ones weren’t cheap. Most families in the alley hadn’t prepared spring couplets.
Fan Changyu thought about Xie Zheng’s ill temper and politely declined, “I’m sorry, aunt, we don’t have extra spring couplet paper at home.”
The woman replied directly, “I still have spring couplet paper from previous years at home!”
Xie Zheng appeared at the gate at some point. Seeing him, the woman asked with a smile, “Changyu’s husband, do you have time to write a pair of spring couplets for your aunt?”
What kind of address was “Changyu’s husband”?
Fan Changyu was afraid he might say something harsh with his sharp tongue and was about to refuse on his behalf again when she heard him say, “Please bring the paper.”
Fan Changyu was somewhat stunned, but the woman was delighted to hear Xie Zheng’s words. She turned and headed home, saying, “Wait here, I’ll go home and get the paper right away!”
It was as if she feared Xie Zheng might change his mind at any moment.
Fan Changyu thought that since he had agreed, it must be out of consideration for her. After entering the courtyard, she couldn’t help but say, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to force yourself to agree.”
Xie Zheng looked up coolly, “When did I say I didn’t want to?”
Fan Changyu: “…”
Wasn’t it he who said earlier that he wouldn’t create art that didn’t please him?
Well, that was about painting. Writing a few characters wasn’t a big deal. She was overthinking it.
Soon, the aunt returned with red paper, but she wasn’t alone. Several other women and elderly ladies, also carrying red paper, accompanied her.
Seeing Fan Changyu, they all smiled and said, “We heard your husband is writing spring couplets for people. Grandma’s family hasn’t written spring couplets this year either, so we shamelessly came along.”
Knowing that the four treasures of the study were precious, they naturally didn’t come empty-handed. Those who had made tofu at home brought a bowl of tofu, those who had made rice candy wrapped up a few pieces and gave them to Changningg as snacks.
Fan Changyu, seeing the people bringing gifts, couldn’t refuse outright, nor could she accept on Xie Zheng’s behalf. She could only look towards Xie Zheng.
He had already brought the brush, ink, and inkstone from the south room to the main hall. Catching Fan Changyu’s glance, he said softly, “Please have a seat, aunties.”
This was a sign of agreement, so Fan Changyu invited everyone to sit by the fire pit to warm up.
When writing spring couplets, Xie Zheng didn’t start writing immediately. He would first ask one or two questions about what kind of meaning the person wanted in their spring couplet before putting brush to paper.
Amidst the swirling wind and snow, his posture as he held the brush was composed and serene.
When an old grandmother from the end of the alley came to have her couplet written, she seemed unsure how to describe the kind of couplet she wanted. Her speech was hesitant, with a strong local accent, and rather rambling.
However, Xie Zheng showed no sign of impatience. To hear the old lady clearly, he would even slightly lower his head and listen attentively.
Fan Changyu, sitting by the fire pit, was somewhat surprised to see this. In her impression, he had always been ill-tempered and arrogant. She hadn’t expected him to have such a gentle and refined side.
After finishing the couplet, he read it aloud to the old grandmother and explained its meaning. The old lady nodded continuously, her face wrinkled with smiles.
Fan Changyu, resting her chin on one hand, watched from the side and found herself smiling too.
Xie Zheng suddenly looked up and caught her smiling eyes directly.
Fan Changyu’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, her smile froze, and she silently turned back to warm herself by the fire.
When word spread that Xie Zheng was helping write couplets, it spread from one to ten and ten to a hundred. Nearly half the neighbors in the alley came to ask for his help. It wasn’t until nearly dusk that people stopped coming to knock on the door. The table was piled high with various snacks and foods given by people in return for the couplets.
Fan Changyu noticed Xie Zheng discreetly rubbing his wrist as he sat down by the fire pit. She teased, “Your hand is sore, isn’t it?”
Xie Zheng only replied, “It’s fine.”
Fan Changyu inwardly snorted. This man was just being stubborn.
Seeing that it was almost dark, she lit the big red lanterns, planning to hang them in the courtyard.
In previous years, hanging lanterns was always her father’s job. Fan Changyu had little experience and chose a bamboo pole that was too short, unable to hang it up. She called out to Changningg, “Ning, help me bring a stool out here.”
Changningg was sitting at the doorway eating a piece of rice candy. She would eat a bit, then break off a piece and scatter it at her feet for the gyrfalcon to peck at.
Hearing Fan Changyu’s words, she turned her head and shouted into the house, “Brother-in-law, help sister hang the lanterns!”
Fan Changyu was about to say that this child was getting better at ordering people around when she saw Xie Zheng already walking out of the house.
He wasn’t carrying a stool. As he approached, he naturally took the bamboo pole from Fan Changyu’s hand. His palm lightly brushed against the back of her hand, just as he had done when teaching her to break holds in the pine forest. Only this time, mixed with his fresh and cool scent was a faint aroma of dried tangerine peel candy.
“It’s hung,” he said after hanging the lantern under the eaves, stepping back. The scent of dried tangerine peel candy faded with his distance.
Fan Changyu felt awkward all over and squeezed out a dry “Thank you.”
For dinner, they had the leftover stewed pig’s trotter from lunch, along with some homemade New Year’s dishes brought by neighbors who had come for spring couplets. Fan Changyu selected a few dishes to reheat and set up a small pot over the fire pit. She sliced fresh meat, tofu, and winter bamboo shoots, laid out a plate of braised offal, and beat an egg into the sliced tender pork liver, mixing it well to be cooked on the spot.
This was a hot pot dish she had often seen customers order when she was helping with the braised meat at Yixiang Restaurant.
Curious, she had asked what it was. Chef Li told her it was a dish created by Manager Yu, and while other restaurants had similar dishes, none could match the taste of Yixiang’s version.
Yixiang Restaurant was closed for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Manager Yu had given her several blocks of solidified red oil for cooking hot pot, telling her to take them home to enjoy during the New Year.
Fan Changyu didn’t know how the solidified red oil blocks were made, but they contained various spices like Sichuan peppercorns, bay leaves, and star anise. When boiled in water, they turned into a bright red soup. The meat cooked in it tasted even better than the blood soup she had made before.
It was quite spicy though. Changningg both craved it and feared the spice, her mouth swelling up by the end of the meal.
Fan Changyu also found the hot pot overwhelmingly spicy and hard to bear. She went to fetch a jar of light wine, pouring a cup for Xie Zheng before remembering his injury.
Fan Changyu took the cup from in front of him and placed it in front of herself: “I forgot, you’re injured and can’t drink.”
Xie Zheng smelled the wine and knew it wasn’t strong. He said, “Light wine is fine.”
Fan Changyu ignored him and poured him a cup of warm tea instead: “The doctor said you can’t touch alcohol until your injury heals.”
Changningg looked longingly at the cup in front of Fan Changyu: “Ning wants some too.”
Fan Changyu poured her a cup of warm tea as well: “Children can’t drink alcohol. Drink tea with your brother-in-law.”
Xie Zheng: “…”
The hot pot was incredibly spicy, yet addictive. By the end, Fan Changyu was practically drinking the light wine like water.
Her lips burning, she reached to pour more wine only to find that she had unknowingly drunk most of the jar.
Fan Changyu was a bit dumbfounded: “How did I drink so much…”
Then she consoled herself: “It’s okay, this wine probably doesn’t make you drunk.”
Her face was already somewhat flushed, but Xie Zheng and Changningg’s faces were also red from eating the spicy hot pot.
Xie Zheng wasn’t sure about her alcohol tolerance. Seeing her drink so boldly, he assumed she could hold her liquor well. Even now, he couldn’t tell if her flushed face was from the spice, the alcohol, or both.
He pushed the teapot towards her: “Drink some tea to sober up.”
Fan Changyu’s mind was a bit slow at this point. After thinking for a while, she concluded – was he making fun of her low alcohol tolerance?
She stubbornly poured herself another cup of wine and said with a fierce expression: “I can hold my liquor just fine! My father could drink a whole jar of strong liquor, and I could drink half a jar. This bit of light wine is nothing!”
Xie Zheng watched helplessly as she tilted her head back and downed the cup of wine. Then her almond-shaped eyes grew smaller and smaller until finally, her head drooped, and she fell asleep on the low table.
Xie Zheng: “…”
The child was also the type to get sleepy after eating her fill. Hugging the red envelope her sister had given her, her breathing had long since become deep and even.
On this New Year’s Eve, only Xie Zheng was left awake to keep the vigil.
The lanterns under the eaves cast a warm light on the fluttering snow. The sound of firecrackers being set off could be heard from somewhere in the distant alleys.
Xie Zheng looked at the woman sleeping soundly on the low table. Half of her face, illuminated by the firelight, was flushed red. Just looking at her made one think that the temperature of her skin if touched, would be extremely warm and soft.
He gazed at her quietly for a while, then averted his eyes. He picked up the wine jar from the table and poured himself a cup. With one leg half bent and one hand resting on his knee, he sat in a relaxed posture, taking a small sip from the cup as he looked out at the snowy scene beyond the door.
Perhaps it was because he was close to the fire pit, or perhaps it was the warm light from the lanterns under the eaves, but at this moment, his heartfelt unprecedentedly peaceful.
Sixteen years after the Battle of Jinzhou, he finally understood again how the New Year should be celebrated.
Half a jar of wine found its way into his stomach, sip by sip, yet his eyes showed no sign of intoxication.
At the stroke of midnight, fireworks exploded over the town. He looked towards the woman at the other end of the low table, who only mumbled in her sleep at the sound before sinking back into deep slumber. He said softly, “Happy New Year.”