Chapter Thirty-Two: New Year’s Eve (Part One)

As the month drew to a close, the festive atmosphere of the New Year grew ever stronger. Although the Liu household was not large—there were only eight members including the young master from the maternal side—the number of maids, servants, attendants, and various workers was considerable, nearly a hundred in all. Coupled with the universal anticipation and joy that came with the approaching New Year, the Liu residence was livelier than usual.

On the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, the Kitchen God was sent off to the heavens;
On the twenty-fourth, the house was swept clean;
On the twenty-fifth, they ground beans to make tofu;
On the twenty-sixth, pigs were slaughtered and pork was cut;
On the twenty-seventh, they washed away filth and illness;
On the twenty-eighth, they pounded rice cakes, steamed bread, and pasted up paper decorations;
On the twenty-ninth, they paid respects at ancestral graves and honored their forebears.
Come New Year's Eve, everyone would stay up through the night to welcome the coming spring.

In her previous life, Liu Qin had felt little attachment to the New Year. She never lacked new clothes or good food, and when she was young, she could still get some lucky money. After she began working, she was the one giving it out. More importantly, as society advanced, the old traditions gradually faded; no one followed those ancient customs dictating what should be done on which day. In the end, the New Year became but a symbol, a mere character on the calendar, increasingly bland and flavorless. During her years working far from home, Liu Qin would return before New Year's Eve; the family would gather together, eating seeds and watching the Spring Festival Gala. Yet, the celebration on the screen always felt distant, as if viewed through frosted glass. Often, before the show was halfway through, Liu Qin would be the first to slip away to bed.

Now, experiencing these customs firsthand, Liu Qin found them delightful and entertaining. Thus, the most bustling corners of the Liu estate were never without the presence of the children—snacking on candied fruits, sampling freshly pounded rice cakes, trying their hands at grinding beans and tending the hearth, cutting out paper window flowers (though rather clumsily), witnessing the slaughter of the large black pig in the kitchen (the little white pig, who like her only grew fat, was not yet grown), handing brushes and grinding ink for Master Liu as he wrote couplets, even clapping with glee. All of these were things she had never experienced before, making them especially meaningful, and within the fun there was a deep sense of warmth and belonging.

This was also Jiang Li’s first New Year at the Liu household. The more festive the occasion, the sharper the longing for family. The old matron, worried he would be saddened by thoughts of his parents, especially summoned Changxing and Changsheng to her side and gave them instructions in person. On New Year’s Eve, she sought Master Liu’s permission to set up a separate altar in the Ink Fragrance Pavilion for Jiang Li, so that even far from his hometown in Wucheng, he could honor his parents and fulfill his filial duty.

Kneeling before the altar, Jiang Li’s eyes brimmed with sorrow he could not conceal. He bowed three times in the direction of his distant homeland, silently praying: “Father, mother, your unfilial son offers you these bows. If your spirits watch from above, please bless the Liu family with prosperity, grant health to my uncle and aunt, and may my cousin enjoy lifelong peace and happiness!”

At this time, Liu Qin, following her parents, had gone to the northeast corner of the rear courtyard, to the Liu family shrine, to honor their ancestors. Master Liu, being the eldest legitimate son, was responsible for the main ancestral line; the patriarchs of the Liu family were enshrined here, though the ancestral home was further south in Jin City, a place Master Liu had not visited in many years. He had no legitimate brothers, and most of the extended family remained in Jin City, with only one close branch making a living in Wucheng, so on this day, that family came to the Liu residence as well.

At her mother’s insistence, Liu Qin donned female attire. Her mother explained that during the New Year, relatives would be visiting, and since everyone knew there was a young lady in the Liu family, it would be improper for her to greet guests dressed as a boy. Liu Qin did not protest further; though she liked mischief, she also knew when to stop. After the Lantern Festival, she could revert to her favored attire.

Her uncle from the fifth branch was only slightly younger than her father. Through her father’s connections, he had secured a middling post in the local administration. He was a straightforward man, but his wife, in Liu Qin’s view, was rather disagreeable. Though she wore a constant smile and seemed amiable, her words often carried hidden barbs or a sour undertone that left others uncomfortable. She was not of as high a birth as the old matron, nor had she married as well, nor was her life as happy; yet she was always intent on competing with the old matron—a case, no doubt, of envy and resentment.

During the ancestral rites, only men could enter the shrine, while the women knelt outside. Thus, Master Liu brought with him the eldest son, Hai, and Chao; the fifth uncle brought his two legitimate sons, two concubine’s sons, and five grandsons—a total of fourteen. The Liu family had a rule forbidding concubines, but the fifth uncle was an exception. It was said that in youth he had loved a woman whom the family disapproved of, and was forced to marry his current wife. Unsurprisingly, their marriage was unhappy. In an attempt to win back his affection, his wife herself gave him her maid as a concubine, and, over time, several more followed. Thus, the fifth branch’s household was filled with women, lively and crowded. Yet, in Liu Qin’s eyes, neither her uncle nor his wife seemed as content as her own parents, and both appeared far older.

After the rites, the fifth branch did not immediately return home, as they were to dine together for the New Year's feast. Before dinner, the men naturally went to the outer courtyard, while the women—apart from Cai Xinlan, who excused herself to oversee preparations—gathered in Listening-to-the-Waves Pavilion in the rear garden.

The pavilion commanded a broad view; to the left stood several plum trees, their red blossoms defiant against the cold, while to the right, not far off, a bamboo grove remained green even in winter. A small path wound through the woods. In summer, when the night breeze stirred, the sound of rustling leaves echoed like waves, lending the pavilion its name. Flower beds had been laid out around it, and when spring arrived, they would burst into vibrant color, making it the best spot in the rear garden for tea and conversation.

The maids had already laid thick mattresses inside, lit braziers, brewed tea, and set out pastries and snacks. By the time the old matron and the ladies of the fifth branch arrived, the room was already warm, as if spring had come early.

The old matron reclined on a couch, inviting Madam Zhang, the fifth uncle’s wife, to lounge on another. Zhang’s three daughters-in-law sat on nearby chairs. The eldest of the younger generation was no older than seven, and each child nestled beside their mother, either sitting or in their arms. Hai had returned to the front courtyard; only Liu Qin and Chao remained at the old matron’s side.

“Oh, sister-in-law, your daughter Qin is growing prettier by the day! If I had your good fortune and could have a daughter in my old age, I’d wake up smiling in my sleep,” Madam Zhang said cheerfully, beckoning to Liu Qin. “Qin, come here and let your aunt take a good look at you.”

Liu Qin glanced up at her mother and, seeing her nod, reluctantly shuffled over to greet Madam Zhang. Zhang took her hand, clicking her tongue in admiration while calling over to her daughters-in-law, “Mei, Ru, why don’t you come play with your little aunt?”

Liu Mei was the daughter of the eldest of the fifth branch; Liu Ru was the third son’s, both born of concubines, with Liu Ru being the daughter of a concubine’s concubine. No wonder, Liu Qin thought, that novels always described children of secondary wives as lacking presence; these girls certainly seemed timid. Though Liu Mei was a year older than Liu Qin, she lacked half her courage. The fifth branch’s family was complex, and with Madam Zhang being disagreeable, the families did not socialize much; even during holidays, the old matron kept Liu Qin’s contact with them to a minimum. Thus, Liu Qin had little acquaintance with Liu Mei or Liu Ru, and they did not play together.

After praising Liu Qin for a while and letting the children amuse themselves, Madam Zhang turned back to the old matron, her tone not without pride: “Sister-in-law, my fourth son’s marriage is settled.”