Everyone was waiting for Fu Tinghan to start the meal. Fu Tinghan didn’t dawdle either. Once everyone in the camp was seated, he picked up an iron megaphone and bellowed at the crowd, “Begin eating—”
Ten thousand people shouted in unison as chopsticks precisely lunged toward the basins for the seven-parts-fat, three-parts-lean Four-Square Reunion—this was the most eye-catching dish of the New Year’s Eve feast!
Fu Tinghan also picked up a piece of Four-Square Reunion. In the past, he didn’t eat such fatty meat, but in this era meat was too scarce. Now even seeing pure fat would make him salivate.
Fu Chang had never seen his nephew like this, and watched in a daze. He found it difficult to connect this person who spoke loudly and ate heartily with his refined nephew.
Fu Hong also stared in a daze before hesitantly extending his chopsticks to pick up a piece.
Cao Ping nearby saw this and laughed. “Third Young Master is also eating pork?”
Fu Hong smiled at him and began eating in large bites. His tightly closed eyes opened in surprise as he told everyone, “It’s actually quite good.”
Cao Ping said, “You people have prejudices against pork. Pigs are different now—they’re not raised under latrines but have separate pig pens. They eat vegetables, rice bran, wheat chaff, and various wild plants. I heard that in Runan Prefecture they even feed them with mugwort. Pigs raised this way are like medicinal pigs, aren’t they?”
Before Zhao Hanzhang vigorously promoted pig-raising, pigs among the common people were all kept beside or beneath latrines. Pig pens were basically never cleaned. Anyone who had seen pigs’ living conditions wouldn’t want to eat their meat, let alone aristocratic families. Pork simply had no qualification to enter their gates.
That’s why the high officials believed Zhao Hanzhang allowing pork into the palace was humiliating the emperor.
That was a filthy thing that even ordinary scholars disdained to eat, yet she actually procured it for the palace.
If she hadn’t eaten pork continuously for three months herself, everyone’s opposition would have been even more intense.
But ordinary people had no such prejudices, especially now that pig-raising conditions and processes had improved. Cao Ping had even been recruited to study pig-raising.
Gathered around the bonfire, everyone ate with great enthusiasm. The firelight reflected on everyone’s faces, heating the air and cleverly keeping the food on the ground warm.
Tonight’s dishes were abundant. Besides Four-Square Reunion, there were pork leg bones stewed with soybeans, cabbage with pork, radish with pork, radish with mutton, and a large basket of steamed buns.
Everyone held a steamed bun in one hand and chopsticks in the other, rapidly picking up dishes, eating until sweat streamed down their faces, incredibly happy.
Tonight’s dishes—Four-Square Reunion and pork leg bones stewed with soybeans—won the most hearts.
Those big leg bones clearly didn’t have much meat, but the stewed soybeans were extremely delicious. The soup had oil floating on top, just looking at it made one want to eat.
“I never imagined soybeans could be so delicious. When I get home, I’ll also buy pork leg bones to stew with soybeans.”
Soybeans were what farming households had most in abundance.
Fu Tinghan also found the soybeans delicious, so he ladled some soup and soybeans into his bowl to drink slowly. Their bonfire group was much more leisurely—they could even chat while eating. “Can we finish in twenty days?”
Fu Tinghan said, “According to current progress calculations, theoretically it’s possible.”
Cao Ping sighed. “I haven’t spent New Year’s with my family in two years.”
Fu Tinghan thought for a moment, then said, “We can spend the next festival. If progress goes smoothly, you can return to the capital to report your work during the Lantern Festival.”
Cao Ping hurriedly waved his hand. “This subordinate was just speaking casually, not requesting leave. There are one hundred twenty-three thousand laborers here, plus eighty thousand soldiers—none of them are thinking about going home. Especially the soldiers—they’ve followed the General in campaigns north and south for who knows how many years without returning home for reunions. How dare I complain here?”
Fu Tinghan said, “I know you’re not complaining. Missing family is natural human emotion.”
Only then did Fu Tinghan remember to ask, “Magistrate Cao, you have a family?”
Fu Chang interjected, “…Magistrate Cao’s son is already eight years old.”
Fu Tinghan looked at Cao Ping with a shocked, incredulous expression.
Cao Ping smiled proudly with narrowed eyes. “I had my eldest son at sixteen. Not everyone is like Shen Ruhui, unable to find a wife.”
Sixty li away across the distance, Shen Ruhui, who was gnawing on a steamed bun in his camp, sneezed. He couldn’t help pulling his clothes tighter. Had he caught a chill?
He looked up at the sparse stars in the sky and said to Shen Xian, “The sky darkened so quickly. It’s only the Hour of the Rooster and it’s already dark. Winter is truly cold. After everyone finishes eating, have them return to their tents to sleep. Don’t let them wander around outside—they might catch cold.”
Shen Xian said, “Master, we’ve only just started. Everyone still wants to sing and dance around the bonfire. It’s New Year’s—shouldn’t we keep vigil until at least the Hour of the Pig?”
“Too late. Didn’t you see me sneeze? I think by the Hour of the Dog should be enough.”
Shen Xian replied, “You sneezed not because of the cold, but because you’re too close to the fire and got choked by the smoke, didn’t you?”
Shen Xian suggested he sit on the other side of the bonfire with everyone. “It’s both warm and lively. You’re a chief official after all—how can you hide here to eat?”
Shen Ruhui said, “They’re annoying—a bunch of smelly, chattering old men. The Minister ordered bathing and the laborers all obeyed, but those few, relying on their official positions, were lazy and didn’t comply. The slightest whisper of news from court and rumors spread everywhere.”
Shen Xian observed, “You dislike them for introducing young ladies to you and probing your preferences, don’t you?”
Shen Ruhui replied, “…Shen Xian, you need to learn to keep your mouth shut and not always say things your own master doesn’t want to hear.”
Shen Xian countered, “This morning you just required this servant to be honest. Good thing you only have this one servant—otherwise, with such constantly changing orders, the household would fall apart sooner or later.”
Shen Ruhui thought: …How infuriating.
In the end, he was still pulled by Shen Xian to the large bonfire. Sure enough, as soon as everyone saw Shen Ruhui, they became excited, rising to offer him a seat. The moment he sat down, someone said, “Magistrate Shen, these are socks my wife had someone send me, made with wool yarn. They’re extremely warm to sleep in at night.”
Shen Ruhui glanced at them and said, “Not bad.”
“Magistrate Shen should also take a wife. Then you’d have someone to knit socks for you too.”
I knew it.
Shen Ruhui said without changing expression, “When I return, I’ll submit a memorial to the General suggesting we can open a workshop specifically for manufacturing wool socks. This way, the wool from the north would all have a use. Not only could the herders earn more money, it would also stabilize the Xiongnu and Xianbei tribes.”
Everyone fell silent.
They gradually set down their chopsticks, patting their stuffed bellies. Someone suggested singing and dancing, so Shen Ruhui was pulled out again—the chief official should set an example first.
Unlike future eras when ethnic minorities could all sing and dance while Han people could only clap, in this era Han people could equally perform踏歌而舞 (step-singing and dancing), regardless of status.
Moreover, the higher one’s status, the better one could sing and dance.
Emperors and clan leaders of aristocratic families had all held hands and danced together—who didn’t have some talent?
But Shen Ruhui’s mood was mediocre at the moment. He had no emotions to express, so he refused. He directly pulled out a gazette and had Shen Xian fetch the megaphone. “I won’t embarrass myself. Let me read everyone a letter from the General instead.”
—