HCT – Chapter 213 New Year Celebration Day

The five states in the north had gone to war, and Zhu Xiang’s instep was so swollen he couldn’t even put his foot on the ground.

Ying Zheng’s laughing-so-hard-he-held-his-stomach expression made Zhu Xiang hallucinate the scene from Tom and Jerry.

He told Xueji to “grab” Ying Zheng and drag him over, then ruthlessly kneaded the boy’s handsome little face.

“Very funny, is it? Hm? Very funny?” Zhu Xiang gnashed his teeth. “Ungrateful brat, and you’re even corrupting your little brother!”

Ying Zheng’s face had been rubbed red, but he still grinned, showing eight well-maintained teeth. “It is funny.”

Little Chengjiao saw his crown-prince brother’s face being kneaded into strange shapes and grinned too—only to be glared at by Ying Zheng.

Chengjiao immediately darted behind Xueji with impressive agility, poking out a small head to complain, “Big Brother can laugh at Uncle, so why can’t Chengjiao laugh at Big Brother?”

Zhu Xiang covered Ying Zheng’s mouth before the boy could scold his brother. “Right, your big brother laughs at his uncle, so of course Chengjiao can laugh at his big brother. Isn’t that right, Zheng’er? When the upper beam is crooked, the lower beam tilts; whatever the upper does, the lower follows.”

Xueji had watched enough of the commotion. Before Ying Zheng could explode from embarrassment, she said, “Alright, stop laughing. My dear, do you really not need me to take care of you?”

Winter had come. These years, the winter temperatures were dropping year after year. Xueji oversaw Southern Qin’s weaving industry, and winter was her busiest time.

Eyi was located at the confluence of the Han and Yangtze Rivers, and Xueji was headed there to prepare winter clothing. She would bring idle farming women with her to rush out a batch of cotton coats for Qin soldiers up north.

“It’s just a swollen instep. Give it a few days and it’ll be fine. Why would I need someone to specially take care of me?” Zhu Xiang said as he continued kneading Ying Zheng’s face. “And besides, Zheng’er is already this big. I should enjoy being taken care of by him.”

This time, Ying Zheng didn’t argue. “Aunt, don’t worry. I’m here.”

Chengjiao poked his head out. “And me!”

Zhu Xiang finally felt satisfied rubbing Xiaozheng’s face and released him. “Yes yes, Chengjiao too.”

Touching his sore, over-kneaded face, Ying Zheng grimaced. “Uncle, be gentler. You’re going to rub the skin off!”

“This is punishment for being an unfilial child,” Zhu Xiang said.

Xueji still hesitated. “But I’m not at ease.”

“You must be at ease. Zheng’er, hurry and reassure your aunt.”

Ying Zheng thumped his chest. “Aunt, you might not believe Uncle, but surely you believe me? Uncle can’t walk well right now—so you can be even more assured. He can’t run around and get into danger.”

Zhu Xiang: “Hey!”

Xueji couldn’t help laughing. “True, I should be at ease.”

Chengjiao didn’t fully understand their conversation, but he still repeated faithfully, “Yes, be at ease!”

Zhu Xiang moved again to pinch Ying Zheng’s face. “Chengjiao has been completely corrupted by you!”

Ying Zheng dodged. Once was enough—did his uncle want to do it several more times? Did he think he could keep pushing his luck?

Under Zhu Xiang and Ying Zheng’s urging, Xueji left Wu County, looking back every few steps.

Standing on the boat bidding farewell to her husband and children, she wondered: back when she was still in Zhao, could she ever have imagined a day when her husband stayed home with the children while she went out to work?

If someone had said such a thing back then, she would have been furious, accusing them of ill intent and trying to tear her family apart.

Yet now she had gotten used to it.

She had become someone different from most women in the world.

But her husband and children supported her, so even if she was different from others, Xueji still wanted to continue walking this path.

Xueji was, at heart, a very traditional woman—someone who viewed her husband and children as her entire world. She was like this before, and she was still like this now.

She became different from most women only because, compared to waiting at home, doing this was more helpful to her husband and children.

…Was that really the only reason?

Sitting at the bow of the ship, resting her chin in her hand as she watched the wake behind the stern, she drifted off in thought.

After a moment, she smiled, shook her head, and went into the cabin to escape the wind.

Perhaps it didn’t matter. She, her husband, and her children all believed this way of life was good.

While Xueji was busy, Zhu Xiang finally had time to relax.

During the reign of King Zhao of Qin, he gradually promoted the “agricultural calendar” Zhu Xiang devised. By the time King Renwen ruled, Xunzi standardized most of Qin’s ceremonial systems, and the agricultural calendar officially became Qin’s state calendar.

When Zichu ascended the throne, the Qin people were already accustomed to the new “Qin calendar,” so he changed the start of the Qin year from the tenth month to the first month.

In truth, even during King Zhao’s time, as Central Plains culture spread in, Qin’s new year had been bouncing between the tenth month and the first month. Most of the populace had already accepted the first month as the start of a new year. Now King Zichu simply made it official.

He also designated the 31st of the twelfth month as New Year’s Eve, and the first day of the first month as New Year’s Day. Except for the border regions, everyone from convicts to officials got two days off.

At the borders, each soldier received an extra day’s worth of rations as celebration.

Since Shang Yang’s reforms, Qin had entered a nationwide state of relentless competition, eager to squeeze every bit of energy out of its people.

Zichu giving the nation a holiday—and one that had nothing to do with himself—was clearly intended to be passed down to future generations.

Xunzi had the court scribes boast endlessly, proclaiming that Qin finally added two official holidays—marking Qin’s transformation from a terrifying state into the most “benevolent” nation in the Warring States.

From this day forward, our great Qin is a land of benevolence!

Don’t like it? Then you give your people holidays too!

The other rulers were furious—but truly didn’t dare give holidays.

Only when resources were abundant could one afford to let the entire country stop working. Qin had full granaries and dared to do it; the other states didn’t.

However, although the commoners did not get holidays, the kings and nobles of other states could still rest.

So the other six states also treated these two days as holidays for all nobility. Among the scholars, this was said to be just as benevolent as Qin, even more so.

After all, if the commoners stopped working, they would starve. For the Qin king to force commoners not to work for two days just to show his benevolence—how many would starve because of it?

This wasn’t benevolence—it was cruelty!

Such criticisms were plentiful, and no one refuted them.

Qin scholars were too busy to rebut anything; Qin commoners were exactly as the scholars believed—ignorant of such debates.

They simply turned their usually expressionless faces bright and lively for two days. Year after year, they invented new “festivities,” creating many new “customs.”

For example—leaving a piece of new cloth, saving a piece of good meat, exchanging for a bit of refined rice, wheat, and millet, and tying a few bundles of firewood in advance. When New Year’s Eve arrived, the commoners—gray and dusty all year—washed with luxurious hot water, soap pods, and plant ash, changed into clothes made from this year’s new cloth, and sat together as a family to eat a meal with both meat and refined grains.

That was celebrating the New Year.

Xunzi himself did not take these two days off.

Every year, he would bring his students to stay in a village for a day or two, letting them witness the joy on the faces of commoners.

His disciples were not solely Confucian; the Xianyang Academy encompassed all schools of thought.

So some disciples turned into temporary petty officials, holding the Qin Law to mediate disputes between neighbors; some wrote blessing couplets for wealthy families who had bought red paper; some set up a small stage to tell stories, earning enough to pay for the group’s travel expenses…

Xunzi would simply sit among the village elders with his cane, chatting with them.

“In the past, every day was lived in a daze. Opening our eyes or closing them, it was always the same. Now we look forward to ‘the New Year.’”

“Yes, that’s something to look forward to.”

“My grandson pesters me every day asking when it’ll be New Year.”

“If not for Lord Zhu Xiang letting us have surplus grain, these two days would be the hungriest, coldest days. What New Year could we even celebrate?”

“Right, having surplus grain is good.”

“My fifth son says the land in the south grows even better crops. The county magistrate says they’re recruiting people to settle there. He wants to go. Sigh… the south has Lord Zhu Xiang, so it must be good. But once he goes, in this lifetime we’ll hardly meet again.”

One of the elders began crying, and the others hurried to console him.

“Children have their own blessings. As long as someone takes care of you at home, let him go.”

“Yes, it’s good if life is good.”

“I heard many Chu women fled to Southern Qin, all excellent at weaving. If your fifth son goes there, he might even marry a good woman who learned weaving under the Lady of Wu County.”

Hearing this, an old woman spat. “Bah! How could Chu women possibly weave better than Qin women? Lady of Wu County taught us weaving when she was in Xianyang—they came later!”

The other women scolded the speaker sharply, some even pointing at his nose, saying they’d never recommend good women to his family again.

Startled, the man hurriedly apologized and even brought a bag of roasted pumpkin seeds to share with everyone before he was forgiven.

Xunzi laughed until his eyes disappeared.

“You look like a learned man. Are you from Xianyang? Have you seen Lord Zhu Xiang and Lady Wu County?” someone asked.

Xunzi smiled. “I teach at the Xianyang Academy. I have seen Lord Changping and his wife, Xueji.”

“Lady Wu County is named Xueji? What a lovely name!” a woman exclaimed. “Xue—like cotton, isn’t it?”

The others nodded in agreement, praising her observation.

They gathered around Xunzi, asking what Lord Zhu Xiang and Lady Xueji truly looked like.

They didn’t understand that the word “ji” in Xueji’s name duplicated the meaning of “lady,” making their phrasing awkward. Xunzi did not correct them.

“Are Lord Zhu Xiang and Lady Xueji really immortals?”

“No, they’re the same as all of you. They were originally farmers.”

“Can Lord Zhu Xiang really slay immortals? Defeat ten thousand troops?”

“No, Zhu Xiang—he’s much more skilled with a hoe than with a sword.”

“Is Lady Xueji really able to weave a hundred meters of cloth in a single day, like the rumors say?”

“Hahahahaha, Xueji’s health is poor—she can’t overexert herself. If she sits by the loom for too long, Zhu Xiang and Zheng’er will smash the loom in protest. For the sake of the loom at home, she definitely wouldn’t be weaving that much cloth.”

The Zhu Xiang and Xueji in Xunzi’s words were very different from how the villagers imagined them to be.

But Xunzi was a noble man from Xianyang, so they believed what he said.

Besides, the Zhu Xiang and Xueji he described were down-to-earth, vivid, and felt real.

Very soon, the title “Lady Xueji” became just as famous as “Lord Zhu Xiang,” even replacing the awkward titles “Lady of Lord Changping” and “Lady of Wu County.”

Some scholars were unhappy, believing a woman’s name shouldn’t be spread in public.

But Xunzi said, “Ritual does not apply downward to the common people.”

If you want to blame commoners for not knowing propriety, then you should take the lead in teaching them. Only after they learn propriety can you criticize them for lacking it.

Otherwise, you’re just spouting useless nonsense.

Confucian scholars tended to be stubborn.

After Xunzi’s rebuke, they strapped on their swords, held brushes to their chests, some going to county schools, others simply building small courtyards in villages to open private schools, educating village children and sending talents to the county schools, commandery schools, and the Xianyang Academy.

After they taught the people the meaning of “propriety,” then they could argue with Xunzi—that “lowly Confucian”—about which propriety the people should know!

In these times, even the so-called “stubborn Confucians” later criticized by posterity were all men of action.

Even Master Meng himself once traveled the states with disciples, sword at his side, carriage beneath his feet.

Southern Qin also celebrated the New Year.

Zhu Xiang’s foot was only swollen from being smashed; after changing to a pair of large padded shoes, he could walk the next day.

Ying Zheng followed behind Zhu Xiang with his hands clasped behind his back like a little old man, nagging every time Zhu Xiang walked a bit faster.

Little Chengjiao was in his most energetic stage—he always ran ahead of Zhu Xiang, then behind Xiaozheng, then ahead again, circling back and forth. His daily walking distance equaled the combined total of Zhu Xiang and Xiaozheng.

Even Bai Qi had New Year’s holidays, and followed Zhu Xiang to enjoy family time.

Li Mu, originally planning to spend the New Year in the south, was forced back to chilly Wu County under Zhu Xiang’s urging. He also brought some tropical fruits to satisfy their cravings.

Zhu Xiang had no idea where Li Mu had gone. Had he run all the way to Hainan?

Zhu Xiang reminded him, “The coasts are dangerous. Don’t go too far.”

Even with a compass—which the Xianyang Academy had corrected by calculating the deviation between the compass needle and true south—sea voyages were dangerous. Even near the shore, storms could sink ships.

But Li Mu sailed with several military ships together, so the danger was much less. If one ship encountered trouble, the others could rescue it.

Merchant ships were more likely to meet accidents because they usually sailed alone—if they sank, no rescue.

Still, even if only one ship sank, it was costly and troublesome.

Li Mu listened to Zhu Xiang’s nagging and kept sighing. Zhu Xiang was good in every way—except when he started nagging, it became endless.

At such times Li Mu finally missed Lin Zhi. Lin Zhi’s actions were ridiculous, but with him around there was always something to distract Zhu Xiang, preventing Zhu Xiang from wearing out Li Mu’s ears with nagging.

Little Chengjiao clapped his hands, making a “big smart” expression: “Uncle always says Big Brother loves nagging. Big Brother learned it from Uncle!”

Zhu Xiang paused mid-nag.

Ying Zheng clenched a fist and thumped it on Chengjiao’s head.

“OW!” Chengjiao held his head and yelled loudly, but his expression remained exactly the same—still that look of “I’m so smart.”

Zhu Xiang complained, “Chengjiao used to cry when his head got knocked. Now he doesn’t even change expression. This iron-head skill is definitely something he learned from Zheng’er.”

Ying Zheng: “…”

He stared at his uncle’s head, wondering whether he should give Zhu Xiang a knock too.

Bai Qi coughed lightly.

Ying Zheng awkwardly put down his fist and only used his eyes to threaten his uncle. Hateful uncle—just wait until Elder Bai isn’t here. I’ll definitely hit you!

Zhu Xiang returned the look with provocation. Little brat, you think I’m scared? Your uncle has eaten more salt than you’ve eaten rice!

Li Mu saw Xiaozheng and Chengjiao successfully divert Zhu Xiang’s attention and sighed in relief.

He quickly continued steering the topic away: “Back in Zhao, when the king offered sacrifices, the common people also held celebrations. I’ve heard the celebrations there have also been moved to the two days of New Year.”

Zhu Xiang nodded. “Zhao’s celebrations used to be quite lively.”

Bai Qi asked, “Did Zhao have celebrations every year?”

Zhu Xiang said, “Not necessarily. It depended on whether it was a good harvest year. When there was abundance, people celebrated during the king’s sacrifice. Zheng’er, do you still remember?”

Ying Zheng, whose memory was excellent, replied, “Not interesting. Not much fun. The celebration in Chengdu was much livelier.”

He remembered food even better than events.

Zhao’s celebrations were just noisy. Zhu Xiang carried him on his shoulders to look over the crowd, and after a while he’d fall asleep—nothing interesting.

And since Zhu Xiang was a commoner back then, he had to bow and kneel whenever he saw officials’ carriages, or he’d be punished. So Zhu Xiang rarely brought him out.

His memories of Zhao’s celebrations were not as clear as of the big jujube tree at home—the jujubes were delicious. After coming to Qin, he never tasted such good jujubes again.

Compared to that, the malt sugar at the Chengdu celebration left a deeper impression.

It was his first time eating malt sugar.

Although the cane sugar his uncle made at home tasted better, he had never had malt sugar before, so he kept thinking about that flavor.

After pestering his uncle to make it once, he found it wasn’t that tasty—nothing like his uncle’s Osmanthus candy.

Chengjiao sucked his finger and said, “Malt sugar? I’ve never had any!”

Ying Zheng pulled the finger out of his mouth. “Want to eat it? In spring, ask Uncle to make some.”

Zhu Xiang said, “Sure… huh? Look, isn’t someone selling malt sugar there?”

Ying Zheng immediately lifted his little brother. “Where? Oh—there! Come, Big Brother will buy you malt sugar!”

He strode away. Zhu Xiang tried to follow but Li Mu blocked him.

“Careful—you’ll get stepped on.” Li Mu left Zhu Xiang in the less crowded area and followed the boys to guard them.

Zhu Xiang said to Bai Qi with emotion, “I didn’t expect Zheng’er to have grown enough to buy sweets for his little brother. Time flies.”

Bai Qi recalled the first time he’d seen Ying Zheng—

That tiny, chubby ball of a child, even younger than Chengjiao now. But the boy had always been bold, daring even as a toddler to sit in his benefactor’s lap and tug his beard.

There was no child under heaven as fearless as Ying Zheng.

Bai Qi said, “If our lord and Lord Yinghou saw this scene, they would be very happy.”

Zhu Xiang shook his head hard. “What are you saying? When King Zhaoxiang fell sick, if he saw someone praying for him, he’d scold them. If he saw commoners not working but playing here, he’d be furious. As for Lord Fan—if the king was angry, he’d follow.”

Bai Qi chuckled. “No. If he saw Qin people living well, he’d be happy.”

Zhu Xiang shook his head vigorously. “I believe he’d be happy they lived well—but I don’t believe he’d be happy seeing this.”

Bai Qi laughed and didn’t argue further. He thought he understood their benefactor better than Zhu Xiang.

Now, when he thought of King Zhaoxiang, the old feelings—depression, resentment, fear—were gone.

Perhaps time really did wash away many negative things.

Now, when he thought of King Zhaoxiang, all that remained was gratitude and longing.

Or maybe he wasn’t missing King Zhaoxiang, but the spirited young man he himself once was.

“Old Bai! I bought one for you too!” Ying Zheng held Chengjiao with one hand, and raised a stick of malt sugar candy with the other.

Zhu Xiang scolded, “Old Bai’s teeth can’t eat such sticky candy! You’re causing trouble!”

Bai Qi laughed. “I can eat it.”

Zhu Xiang immediately frowned. “Don’t mess around, Lord Bai. What if your teeth get stuck?”

Bai Qi said, “I’ve eaten malt sugar before. As long as you hold it in your mouth and don’t chew, it won’t stick.”

He took the malt sugar, tasted it, and said, “Much better than the ones I had before.”

Ying Zheng smiled at Bai Qi, then told Zhu Xiang, “There’s none for Uncle.”

Zhu Xiang responded, “Then I’ll snatch yours!”

Li Mu handed Zhu Xiang a stick and also gave another to Xiaozheng. “Don’t fight.”

Zhu Xiang said helplessly, “I was just joking with Zheng’er.”

“Mm.” Li Mu put one in his own mouth too.

The malt sugar sold at the celebration was wrapped around a small wooden stick. With the sticks in their mouths, the group continued walking with the crowd.

“There are too many people. They need to send more people to maintain order and prevent child traffickers.”

“I already sent them. Triple pay for working today! The yamen runners are fighting to come!”

“Well done, Zheng’er—you already know the right way to command people.”

Chengjiao pulled the malt sugar from his sticky mouth and had a sudden epiphany. “Uncle gives me snacks and makes me do exercises—that’s the right way to command me!”

Ying Zheng: “…”

He gave his little brother a very complicated look. Was this boy stupid or clever? He couldn’t figure it out.

“That’s called teaching you,” Zhu Xiang corrected sternly.

Chengjiao muttered, “It’s commanding. I hate math.”

He stuck the malt sugar back onto his mouth and grumbled internally—

I hate math. Hate it!

“Alright, eat your candy.” Ying Zheng held his hand and pointed at a vendor selling wooden animal carvings. “Want one?”

Chengjiao nodded hard.

Ying Zheng squeezed back into the crowd, and Li Mu followed quickly.

Zhu Xiang said to Bai Qi, “I think Zheng’er wants to buy one for himself.”

Bai Qi nodded smiling.

Zhu Xiang sighed with a laugh. “Zheng’er looks grown up, but his tastes are still childish.”

Bai Qi said, “Don’t let him hear you say that, or he won’t buy it.”

Zhu Xiang laughed so hard he almost choked on his own saliva.

…

While Qin celebrated New Year here, the armies of the five northern states were locked in fierce battle.