PCJ – Chapter 151 Betting

Zhang Jiaohua was tending the fire by stove, having nothing to do there. Liu Qiaoye called him in to watch the fire, just to keep him warm. However, if she didn’t give him a task, how could he possibly stay there quietly?

Brewing rice wine didn’t require a large fire; otherwise, it could easily burn the pot’s bottom, giving the wine a burnt taste, which would completely ruin it.

Zhang Youping was knocking around, making the house noisy. Zhang Jiaohua, annoyed by the noise, shouted loudly, “Dad, stop hammering! You’ll scare away the God of Wealth!”

Zhang Youping immediately ran to the kitchen, “Son, it’s the New Year; don’t talk nonsense. Dad will stop hammering.”

“It’s the New Year, and you’re hammering everywhere. Don’t you know that all the gods come to each household to receive incense? If you hammer like that, they’ll think you don’t welcome them,” Zhang Jiaohua retorted.

Zhang Youping thought his son made sense and nodded, “This time, you’re right. Son, tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. What do you want Dad to buy for you? How about a nice firecracker? Do you want one?”

“Yes, yes! I want a skyrocket and fireworks, the kind that shoots up high and bursts into a flower in the sky, just like on TV,” Zhang Jiaohua said excitedly, showing some childlike enthusiasm.

Zhang Youping preferred seeing his son act like a regular child, smiling, “Alright, Dad will buy some fireworks tomorrow. If you behave well at home and listen to your grandparents, I’ll buy you big fireworks every year when we return from Guangdong.”

“Remember that. When you go to the market, don’t chicken out when Mom says something,” Zhang Jiaohua disdainfully remarked about his dad’s fear of his mom.

Embarrassed, Zhang Youping pinched his ear, “Alright, I’ll tell your mom that someone is badmouthing her behind her back.”

“Dad, you and Mom are adults. Why do you always listen to her?” Zhang Jiaohua asked, puzzled.

“It’s not about listening to her. Whoever is right, I listen to them,” Zhang Youping said, patting his son on the butt.

“Dad, this time Mom is definitely wrong. You should borrow some more wine jars or the wine will overflow later.” Zhang Jiaohua said.

“Are you serious? If I borrow wine jars and there’s not enough wine, I’ll spank you,” Zhang Youping laughed, thinking his son was joking.

“Alright. But you and Mom can’t say the wrong thing. If you do, it’ll be your fault,” Zhang Jiaohua said.

“What shouldn’t we say?” Zhang Youping asked.

“That’s a secret. If I tell you, it won’t work,” Zhang Jiaohua replied, shaking his head. This wasn’t him being mysterious; it was true. Sometimes, when casting spells, he needed to elicit a specific response from others. If they didn’t say the right thing, the spell wouldn’t work. Also, once a spell was cast, others shouldn’t say the wrong thing, or it could fail. The gods listened to what you said and took it seriously. But if he explained this beforehand, the gods might feel tricked.

Zhang Youping scratched his head, “If it doesn’t work, you can’t just blame us for saying something wrong.”

“If you don’t say the wrong thing, how could it be your fault? But Mom shouldn’t say the wrong thing either. That might be hard. If you tell Mom not to say the wrong thing, she’ll definitely do the opposite,” Zhang Jiaohua laughed, finding this the funniest thing in the world.

“Alright, You keep an eye on the fire. Remember your words; I’ll go borrow wine jars,” Zhang Youping said, walking to the courtyard gate, scratching his head. Listening to a kid, was that really right? Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a joke. But having made a promise, he couldn’t go back on his word. He reluctantly headed to the old house to borrow wine jars.

Liu Qiaoye carried a load of radishes, each white and looking like they were carved from jade. Post-snow radishes weren’t woody and had no spicy taste; they were refreshing and as enjoyable as ice cream in winter.

“Where’s your dad?” Liu Qiaoye placed the radishes in the kitchen corner, cleaned and with ice crystals on them, looking even more appealing.

“Dad went to borrow wine jars. Later, I’m going to invite the ancestral master and chant the wine-making spell. The wine jar will overflow, so I told Dad to borrow more jars. I made a bet with Dad; don’t say anything wrong. Otherwise, it’ll be Dad’s fault. After all, Dad and you are on the same side,” Zhang Jiaohua worried Liu Qiaoye might say something wrong. He had learned the wine-making spell from the Taoist master. Once the master was invited, wine would continuously flow from the spout, like the never-drying spring water at Meizitang.

“Your dad is getting more gullible as he gets older. How did he fall for your trick?” Liu Qiaoye was annoyed with her husband and rolled her eyes at her son.

“Mom, if you haven’t tried it, how do you know it won’t work? Just remember, don’t say anything wrong,” Zhang Jiaohua warned.

“I’m back. Son, you better not be tricking me. Otherwise, I’ll give you a spanking,” Zhang Youping returned, carrying two wine jars excitedly.

“Zhang Youping, you really have guts. Your parents still treat you like a child and lent you the wine jars,” Liu Qiaoye was speechless.

“I told them I was going to make some medicinal wine,” Zhang Youping laughed.

Liu Qiaoye could only smile wryly.

“Mom, remember, don’t say anything wrong!” Zhang Jiaohua reminded from the side.

“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything wrong. I’ll just get a bamboo switch,” Liu Qiaoye threatened, going outside to get a bamboo switch. This type of switch was often used by parents in Meizi’ao to discipline their children, inflicting pain but not injury.

“Son, I think your mom is serious this time. If it doesn’t work, just admit your mistake. I’ll protect you, and you’ll avoid a spanking,” Zhang Youping said urgently.