PCJ – Chapter 158 New Year and Farewell

On the evening of New Year’s Eve, the sky suddenly cleared, and the deep night sky was filled with twinkling stars. This was a long-awaited good weather. With the sky clearing, the ice and snow would melt, and the days of being snowbound would not last long. Once the snow in the mountains melted, the packs of big wolves would no longer rush out of the mountains to hunt in the village. The sword hanging over Meizi Village would also be hidden again.

The New Year was approaching, and the day of parting was also drawing nearer. But tonight, Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye managed not to think about the separation coming on the sixth day of the first lunar month.

“Son, come with Dad to set off our big firecracker,” Liu Qiaoye was busy in the kitchen.

“Mom, you have to come too,” Zhang Jiaohua said happily.

“How can Mom leave now?” Liu Qiaoye laughed.

“Wife, put out the fire first, I’ll come and help you later. Let’s go set off the fireworks first. You should come and see, it’s genuine Liuyang fireworks,” Zhang Youping said, carrying the big firework outside.

In those days, few people in the countryside were willing to spend money on fireworks just to hear the sound. Zhang Youping placed the fireworks in the open space in the yard and then turned to Zhang Jiaohua and Liu Qiaoye, saying, “Don’t stand too close.”

Zhang Youping took a puff of his cigarette, the spark from the cigarette lit the fuse of the fireworks, and with a hiss, a spark shot into the fireworks.

“Boom!”

A small fireball shot out suddenly, soaring into the starry sky.

Boom!

The small fireball exploded suddenly, the sky blossoming into a giant multicolored flower.

“It’s so beautiful!” Liu Qiaoye murmured.

Zhang Jiaohua was also mesmerized.

Jin Hu and a few others were dancing with excitement; it was their first time seeing such beautiful fireworks.

Zuan Shanbao quickly ran back inside to hide.

The loud sound of the fireworks attracted everyone in Meizi Village out of their houses.

“Wow! It’s so beautiful. Fireworks!” Dumb shouted as he rushed out, pointing at the sky.

“Youping is really generous this year, spending dozens of yuan on fireworks,” Zhang Shicai said with a smile.

Zhang Dechun stood in his yard, feeling that Zhang Youping’s family had stolen the limelight this year, and secretly vowed that next year his family would also buy some fireworks.

Zhang Yuanbao shouted loudly, “Fireworks, fireworks, they are from my second uncle’s house!”

The loud explosions broke the silence of the mountain village, the dazzling flowers heralding the beginning of change.

“Thirty yuan, just gone?” Liu Qiaoye said softly.

Zhang Youping and Zhang Jiaohua quickly ran back inside to watch the New Year’s Gala.

“Zhang Youping! Didn’t you say you’d help me?” Liu Qiaoye’s voice echoed from the yard.

In Meizi Village, families on New Year’s Eve would fry some specialty foods because frying had the connotation of prosperity, both in wealth and offspring.

As the housewife, Liu Qiaoye had a lot of work to do: frying a pot of tofu, several rice flowers, and a few pieces of boiled skins, and making crispy meat. The crispy meat would be stewed with radishes in the pot, along with a wild boar leg. Making crispy meat involved cooking the meat thoroughly, then coating it with sweet rice wine, frying it until the crust turned golden, and finally stewing it in the pot again, causing the surface to wrinkle.

Rice flowers were made from glutinous rice. On clear autumn days, glutinous rice would be steamed and made into round cakes, decorated with red dyed rice to form various patterns, resembling blooming flowers, hence the name “rice flowers.”

Making boiled skins was also complex. First, soaked rice would be ground into rice paste with a stone mill, then spread thinly in a pot. After drying, they were stored. During festivals or celebrations, they were fried until crispy, with a unique flavor.

“Mom, let me help you with the fire,” Zhang Jiaohua pulled up a small stool and sat in front of the stove.

“No, today I’m using large firewood, you don’t need to worry. Go watch TV. The oil splashes could burn you. Go call your dad. He’s just sitting there like a lord, not helping at all,” Liu Qiaoye quickly declined Zhang Jiaohua’s help.

On New Year’s Eve and New Year’s morning, rituals were performed to worship gods and ancestors. These rituals were naturally presided over by the male head of the household. Zhang Jiaohua also had to worship the ancestral master and various gods, believing that constant worship would ensure protection during critical times.

Watching the New Year’s Gala, Zhang Jiaohua felt that world was too far from his own. He started to feel sleepy and fell asleep on the stove.

When Zhang Youping came over, he shook Zhang Jiaohua awake, “Son, don’t sleep yet. We need to go kowtow to the ancestors, so they will bless you with good health and safety in the coming year.”

Drowsy, Zhang Jiaohua got up and followed Zhang Youping to the main room.

Outside, Zhang Youping set off a string of firecrackers, which woke Zhang Jiaohua up completely.

Zuan Shanbao, terrified, ran into the room to hide. Today’s noise had scared him a lot, mainly because he hadn’t experienced it before.

“Jiaohua, come, kowtow to the ancestors,” Zhang Youping said, pulling Zhang Jiaohua to the shrine.

According to custom, the family was supposed to stay up all night, but this practice was fading. Zhang Jiaohua watched the New Year’s Gala with his parents and fell asleep again. When he woke up, it was already the new year.

The new year seemed to pass quickly. In a few days, the atmosphere at home changed.

Liu Qiaoye packed the things she and her husband would take to Guangdong into two woven bags, placed them in the main room. Early on the sixth day of the first lunar month, they would leave home for the town station. The tickets were already in Liu Qiaoye’s pocket.

Thinking about leaving her son and going far away the next morning, Liu Qiaoye couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

“Son, listen to your grandparents at home. Don’t go outside and don’t swim in the pond, understand? Write to us when you miss us. We will write back and bring you good food and toys when we make money,” Liu Qiaoye held her child tightly. Her son had never been away from his parents, and now he had to live independently, which broke her heart.

But life pushes people forward, no matter the sadness or joy.

Zhang Jiaohua was a bit confused. How could he know what tomorrow would bring?