Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The New Year has begun, bringing with it a fresh start.

Today is the last day of the twelfth lunar month, and it's also Lu Yao's first New Year since he crossed over.

Getting up early in the morning, Lu Yao started bustling around. With the iron pot at home, cooking had become much more convenient; dishes that couldn't be stir-fried before were now possible. Today being the New Year, he planned to showcase his culinary skills and impress the Zhao siblings!

For breakfast, he simply stir-fried a plate of tripe. Although there were no green peppers to accompany it, the ample oil made the tripe crispy and fragrant, a far cry from the stewed version.

Zhao Xiaonian and Zhao Xiaodou hesitated to pick up their chopsticks, knowing that intestines carry feces, leaving them with a mental block.

But seeing their eldest brother and sister-in-law enjoying it so much, both of them couldn't help but swallow their saliva.

Should they try a piece?

Zhao Xiaonian tentatively picked up a piece, holding her breath as she chewed. "Hey? It seems pretty tasty."

Hearing this, Zhao Xiaodou immediately picked up a piece too. Not only was it not smelly, but it tasted delicious! The two children instantly dug in with gusto.

Zhao Beichuan: "Not finding it smelly anymore?"

Both shook their heads vigorously. "Not smelly at all, it's really delicious!"

Lu Yao couldn't help but chuckle; these kids were too amusing.

After breakfast, they began cleaning the house. The new house had been built recently, so there wasn't much to clean. Zhao Beichuan led the two children to sweep the place, making it spotless.

Lu Yao brought in the frozen meat and vegetables to thaw. Today, he planned to prepare eight dishes—eight symbolizing prosperity, wishing for good fortune in the coming year.

The eight dishes included braised pork, scallion-braised ribs, chicken stewed with mushrooms, cabbage and wood ear mushrooms, cold mixed pig head meat, stir-fried bean sprouts with eggs, sliced tripe, and sweet shredded turnip.

The sausages were prepared last night using the pig intestines provided by the restaurant owner. After soaking and cleaning, the excess fat was scraped off, leaving a thin layer of intestine skin.

The minced pork was seasoned with salt, ginger, and scallions, then stuffed into the intestines using a funnel. The sausages needed to be boiled for fifteen minutes, during which small holes had to be poked to prevent them from bursting.

Once cooked and cooled, they could be eaten. Though not as good as those sold in his previous life, they were still a tempting delicacy in this era of scarce food.

After finishing them yesterday, he let the two children have one each. Seeing their lingering desire, Lu Yao quickly put the remaining two sausages away in the cupboard, ensuring they would have some left for the New Year.

He started simmering the ribs in a clay pot, cutting the vegetables ready to be stir-fried later. The meat filling for the dumplings was already mixed and would be wrapped in the afternoon. The kitchen work was almost done.

Taking advantage of the break, Lu Yao took out the red paper to cut spring flowers. He learned this skill in elementary school and hadn't forgotten it after all these years.

He cut several "Spring" characters and a slightly more complex "Four Seasons Peace." Later, he would paste them on the doors and windows with glue.

Xiaonian and Xiaodou held the cut-out window decorations, admiring them. "Sister-in-law, what are these?"

"These are spring flowers, used during the Spring Festival."

"Wow, they're beautiful. Can you teach us how to cut them?"

"Sure." Lu Yao took out two pieces of red paper and taught them how to fold and cut.

The children learned attentively, calling Zhao Beichuan over to help paste them on the door once they finished.

Tian Dazhuang came over to watch, wearing a new coat and a cotton hat, sucking on a piece of candy while wiping his nose. "Xiaonian, what are those you're pasting?"

"We cut these spring flowers. Aren't they pretty?"

"Really nice. Can I have one?"

"That won't do; we don't have enough for ourselves."

Tian Dazhuang pouted. "Fine, then I won't play with you." He skipped away towards the village.

Passing Song Ping's house, he saw Song Ping squatting in the yard playing with snow.

Tian Dazhuang hesitated for a moment before calling out, "Song Ping, what are you doing?"

Song Ping looked up at him without saying a word.

"Hey, I heard your mom is going to have a baby brother for you."

"Hmm."

"Afterward, your mom won't care about you anymore."

Song Ping scoffed, "Who cares? My grandma said he's sick, so I should stay away from him."

Tian Dazhuang wiped his nose. "What kind of sickness?"

"Don't ask."

"Song Ping!" Song Ping's father suddenly called out from inside.

Tian Dazhuang jumped, quickly running back home. Song Ping hesitantly stood up and walked into the house.

"It's so cold outside; don't catch a chill," Song Ping's father said, brushing the snow off his clothes. Song Ping awkwardly dodged him and darted into Song Ping's grandmother's room.

Song Ping's father took a deep breath, forcing a stiff smile before returning to the kitchen to continue cooking.

Today being the New Year, the Songs bought a pound of pork to make dumplings. Song Ping's father chopped the meat and started kneading the dough, slowly wrapping the dumplings.

Each dumpling was meticulously shaped, neat and beautiful. When Song Ping's grandmother came out, she couldn't help but grumble, "A meal of dumplings will end up in our stomachs; why bother making them so carefully?"

Song Ping's father ignored her, continuing to shape the dumplings while humming softly. He was happy it was the New Year.

*

Before dusk, someone set off a few firecrackers, causing the snow on the roof to rustle and fall.

Lu Yao lit all the oil lamps in the house, making it bright and warm.

"Sister-in-law, when are you going to cook the dumplings?" the two children were hungry.

"Wait until your eldest brother comes back."

Zhao Beichuan had gone to offer sacrifices at the graves. According to local custom, people visit the graves on New Year's Eve to honor their ancestors and invite them home for dinner.

Along the way, he encountered many others heading to the graves, carrying incense and candles in silence.

Zhao Beichuan's parents were buried on North Mountain, in a pine forest. In the white snow, two small graves stood alone on the hill.

The Zhao family, being newcomers, didn't have an ancestral grave like other large families whose graves were clustered together, with descendants gathering to pay respects.

Xiaonian and Xiaodou were supposed to go with him, but Zhao Beichuan thought it was too cold and the snow too deep on the mountain, so he left them at home.

Arriving at the graves, Zhao Beichuan first cleared a space in the snow, lit the oil lamp, and then lit the incense and candles, placing them on the graves.

"Dad, Mom, your son has come to see you."

"Your son is married now. He has a kind and considerate husband. We've built a new house and bought a mule cart. Life is getting better. Xiaonian and Xiaodou have grown up, and everything at home is fine. You don't need to worry anymore."

Zhao Beichuan sat in the snow nearby, talking about family matters for a long time. When he saw the incense nearly burned out, he knelt down and bowed three times.

"Dad, Mom, come home with me for dinner!"

The echo came back from the distant ravine, "Dad, Mom, come home with me for dinner!"

The voice echoed up the mountain, "Dad, Mom, come home with me for dinner!"

The calls merged into a long, ancient melody, a faith that had never been lost by the children of Huaxia.

Zhao Beichuan entered the courtyard covered in snow, opening the gate. On New Year's Eve, the door must not be closed; the ancestors must be invited into the house.

"Big Brother is back! Big Brother is back! Sister-in-law should start cooking the dumplings now~"

Lu Yao heated the water in the pot and dropped the pre-made dumplings inside. The plump dumplings floated to the surface after a few rolls.

"Xiaonian, set the table!"

"Yes!" Zhao Xiaonian placed the small table and brought out the cold dishes she had prepared earlier.

Xiaodou wanted to help but was shooed away by Xiaonian, "Go play somewhere else; don't get in the way."

The little one pouted and went to Lu Yao to complain, "Sister-in-law, A-Jie won't let me carry the dishes."

"Your sister is worried you might get burned. Go wash your hands and wait for dinner."

Zhao Beichuan entered the room, stomping the snow off his feet, "Are the dumplings cooking?"

"Yes, come over and warm yourself by the fire." Lu Yao brought a wooden stool for Zhao Beichuan to sit next to the stove and warm up.

"Is the snow deep on the mountain?" Lu Yao warmed his ears with his hands.

"More than a foot deep. It almost reaches my knees when I step in it."

"It's good we didn't let Xiaodou go; otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to walk."

Zhao Beichuan nodded, "Heavy snow is good; fewer pests in the fields next year, and the crops will grow well."

"I know, auspicious snow foretells a bountiful year."

"Auspicious snow foretells a bountiful year? Yes! That's right!" Zhao Beichuan hugged Lu Yao's waist, burying his face in his stomach, showing his affection.

The dumplings were cooked, and Lu Yao quickly pushed him away to scoop them out.

The first bowl couldn't be eaten; it had to be placed on the windowsill as an offering to the ancestors. The second bowl could then be served.

The chicken and ribs were already stewed and kept warm in a clay pot. The stir-fried dishes were done in less than fifteen minutes, except for the caramelized radish dish.

First, the radish had to be coated in flour and fried until golden. Then, sugar was melted in an iron pot, carefully controlled until it became a thick foam. The fried radish was then quickly stirred in the sugar and removed, coated evenly.

With all the dishes ready, the four of them picked up their chopsticks and began eating!

*

"These dumplings taste strange," Song Changshun said, frowning as he swallowed a bite.

Old Lady Song: "What strange taste? Don't be picky today; just eat."

The widowed Song sat silently, picking at the cabbage with his chopsticks.

Today was the New Year, and the old lady had invited him to join them at the table. Seeing that he wasn't eating any dumplings, she put one in his bowl, "Eat some; it'll nourish you."

"You eat; I'm not hungry."

The old lady thought he had eaten in the kitchen, so she didn't mind and took a bite herself, saying, "Meat dumplings are delicious; they're so good I can barely speak."

Song Ping ate heartily, having not tasted meat in a long time. He broke open the dumplings to eat only the filling, throwing the wrappers into Old Lady Song's bowl.

Song Changshun ate a few but still found the taste odd, so he stopped eating.

The widowed Song looked up at him, "Eat a few more; it's the New Year, and you should be full."

Perhaps because of his advanced pregnancy, his complexion looked better under the candlelight, not as pale as before. Today, he wore clean clothes and had neatly combed hair, looking much more presentable.

Song Changshun hesitated and sat back down, touching the widowed Song's thigh under the table, "Eat a few more; tonight, you need to be full!"

The widowed Song understood his implication and smiled shyly, adding a few more dumplings to his plate.

The entire pot of dumplings was finished by the Song family.

After dinner, the widowed Song didn't offer to clear the table or wash the dishes but went straight to the west room.

Old Lady Song grumbled as she got up to clear the table, "Ouch—my stomach hurts."

Song Ping clutched his stomach, "Grandma, my stomach hurts too."

"Must be from eating too much fat; maybe you'll have diarrhea soon."

After a while, Song Ping cried out in pain, rolling on the bed. Only then did Old Lady Song realize something was wrong and called for the old man. But the old man was already foaming at the mouth.

In the west room, the widowed Song sat on the bed, gently stroking his belly.

Song Changshun pushed open the door and came in, "Maybe we ate something bad; my stomach keeps hurting."

The widowed Song covered his mouth and chuckled softly.

"What are you laughing at?" Song Changshun felt something was off about him today, perhaps not just today, but ever since he returned.

"Nothing, just happy it's the New Year."

Song Changshun didn't think much of it and hugged him, "It's been a while since we slept together. Tonight, I'll take care of you."

The widowed Song didn't resist, obediently undressed, and lay beside him, smiling at him.

"Why are you always smiling?" Song Changshun frowned; it made him feel uneasy.

"Does your stomach still hurt?"

Without the reminder, it would have been fine, but once mentioned, the pain intensified, making Song Changshun cry out and collapse on the bed, drenched in cold sweat.

"Those dumplings... you put something in them!"

The widowed Song stood up, smiling, "Did they taste good?"

"You! You poisonous husband! Are you trying to kill us all? Song Ping is your own son!"

"We're all going to die. It's better for him to go with us."

"Ah!!! It hurts so much, Cao Qing! You won't get away with this! Help! Someone, help!"

Song Guangfu laughed maniacally. "Hahahaha, if I don't get a good death, neither will you. Your whole family deserves to die! I don't have many days left, and you'll all be buried with me!"

Song Changshun crawled out, clutching his stomach as if escaping would save him.

"Husband, where are you going?" Song Guangfu followed him like a vengeful spirit.

"Get... get away..."

Song Changshun spat out foam, flailing his arms weakly. The pain had drained his strength, and he couldn't move once Song Guangfu stepped on his back.

Suddenly, he felt a chill below; his pants were being pulled down by Song Guangfu.

"What... what are you doing..."

Song Guangfu squatted down with scissors in hand. "Don't be afraid, it'll be over soon. Once I take my revenge, I'll join you."

"Aaah—" A scream echoed, and then Song Changshun fell silent.

Song Guangfu put his clothes back on and sat quietly on the bed. Around midnight, he carried a jar of vegetable oil from the kitchen toward the Zhao family's house.

He still had Lu Yao and Lin Daman to deal with. If not for Lin Daman leading people to catch him cheating, he wouldn't have ended up in that place.

Lu Yao, Lu Yao... At the mention of this name, Cao Qing's teeth ground with hatred. Without Lu Yao, Zhao Beichuan would have been his! He wouldn't have had to submit to that beast, Song Changshun!

It was all their fault, all their fault, all their fault!

Cao Qing had indeed gone mad. His mind was consumed by one thought: if he couldn't live, he would burn them all alive!

On New Year's Eve, when families gathered in joy, no one noticed a figure sneaking into the Zhao family's courtyard and pouring a jar of oil onto the woodpile beside the house.

A spark from striking flint landed on the woodpile, igniting the fire instantly.

*

Cao Qing stood watching for a while, then set another fire at Lin Daman's house before quietly leaving.

Lin Daman was the first to notice the fire. In his sleep, he smelled burning and saw flickering light outside.

Lin Daman threw on his clothes and got up. The flames quickly spread from the kitchen to the rest of the house!

"Fire! Help! Fire!!"

He quickly woke his two children. "Xiaochun, Xiaodong, wake up!"

Lu Yao, who was sleeping in the front room, jolted awake at the sound. He sniffed the air, detecting a strong smell of smoke, and quickly woke the person next to him. "Da Chuan, get up! There's a fire!"

Zhao Beichuan immediately jumped up, put on his coat, and rushed out. Opening the door, his eyes widened in shock. The woodpile on the west side of the house was ablaze, flames reaching the roof!

"Get up, the house is on fire!"

Lu Yao grabbed the two children, ignoring their lack of clothes, and shoved coats and pants into their hands. "Quick, take these and get out!"

Xiaonian and Xiaodou, terrified, ran outside with their coats. They saw their eldest brother shoveling snow to try to extinguish the flames, but it was futile. The fire quickly spread to the thatched roof.

Zhao Beichuan dropped the shovel and rushed back inside. The grain in the west room hadn't been taken out yet!

The room filled with thick smoke. Lu Yao dragged out bedding and clothes, tossing the straw mats into the yard.

Neighbors were awakened and came to help, but the river was frozen, and the ground was hard. The water in the household jars was insufficient to extinguish such a large fire.

Everyone stood helplessly in the yard.

Zhao Beichuan kicked open the window of the west room and started throwing out bags of grain. One bag, two bags, but the smoke grew thicker, making it hard to breathe and see.

Lu Yao's legs trembled with fear. "Da Chuan, come out! Forget the grain, we don't need it, just come out!"

Zhao Beichuan turned back, seeing more bags of millet on the bed. As he moved, the flames engulfed the entire west room.

"Zhao Beichuan!" Lu Yao screamed and lunged toward the window.

Someone burst out of the house, grabbing him and rolling in the yard. Zhao Beichuan's clothes were on fire, his hair singed, and his hands blistered from the heat.

A gust of cold wind swept through, and the fire consumed the entire house.

"Big Brother... Ah... Sister-in-law... Our house is gone." The two children cried uncontrollably.

Nothing was more heartbreaking than watching your home, built bit by bit, burn to ashes.

Lu Yao felt as if his heart was bleeding, clenching his jaw tightly, tears streaming down his face.

Zhao Beichuan's eyes reddened, but he held back his tears. He was a man, the pillar of the family, and had to stay strong.

"Did we get everything out of the house?"

"The chest was too heavy; I couldn't move it."

Zhao Beichuan patted his back reassuringly. "It's okay, we can make a new one."

"Our... our house is gone."

"It's okay, ah! It's okay, we'll build another one!"