Chapter 633: Staying Up All Year Round

After lunch, grandma held Qianqian in her arms and took a nap on the kang, while the old man sat beside them smoking a pipe, with sparks flickering in the pipe.

Zhou Yimin did not join in the fun and went straight to the kitchen - the ingredients for the New Year's Eve dinner had to be prepared in advance. This was the most important meal of the year and could not be taken lightly.

Moreover, he had no shortage of these things, and he certainly couldn't treat his family badly, so he brought back a lot of ingredients in advance.

Zhou Yimin came to the kitchen and quickly piled up a mountain of ingredients on the chopping board. There was a large plate of pork belly that was shiny with oil, with the perfect balance of fat and lean meat, and it looked very tempting.

There were also dried mushrooms that grandma had dried soaking in a basin, the water had turned amber. The cabbages had just been dug out of the cellar, covered in a layer of wet mud. When you peeled off the outer layer of old leaves, the cabbage hearts inside were so tender that you could squeeze out water.

Zhou Yimin first tied on his grandmother's blue cloth apron, added some firewood into the stove, and the fire licked the bottom of the pot with a crackling sound, and it soon became hot.

He put the pork belly into a pot of cold water, sprinkled a handful of peppercorns and ginger slices, covered the pot and simmered it - this was to blanch the braised pork and remove the blood foam, otherwise it would taste fishy. In addition, the seasonings nowadays are not as rich as those in later generations, but fortunately the ingredients were good enough.

While the water was boiling, Zhou Yimin picked up a kitchen knife to process the mushrooms.

The soaked mushrooms were soft when squeezed. He tore open the cap, cut the stem into small pieces, and arranged the fingernail-sized pieces on a plate, which looked neat.

After cutting the mushrooms, I minced the meat. Chop the cabbage stalks into small pieces, squeeze out the water and mix them with the meat. Sprinkle with chopped green onions and minced ginger, then pour a spoonful of hot oil. With a "sizzle", the fragrance instantly filled the kitchen.

"The sugar color of the braised pork must be fried until bubbles appear." Zhou Yimin muttered as he poured a spoonful of sugar into the pot and stirred slowly over low heat.

When the sugar cubes melted into amber syrup and tiny bubbles appeared, he quickly poured the blanched pork belly into it and flipped it with the spatula. Soon the pieces of meat were covered with shiny sugar color, as if they were wearing a red dress.

Grandma was awakened by the aroma and stood at the kitchen door holding Qianqian in her arms: "Fry slowly, don't burn it."

Qianqian lay on her grandmother's shoulder, sniffed with her little nose, and reached out to grab the dumpling stuffing on the chopping board. Zhou Yimin smiled and patted her hand: "I'll wrap it up and give you a candy one later."

The pot of stewed chicken was bubbling happily. The local chicken was sent by the old branch secretary from the Zhoujiazhuang farm, and it was still bloody when it was chopped into pieces.

Zhou Yimin threw a handful of soaked mushrooms into the pot and sprinkled some homemade wolfberries. As soon as the pot was covered, he could hear a gurgling sound inside, as if a pot of sweetness from the years was being boiled.

The afternoon sun shone obliquely into the kitchen, stretching Zhou Yimin's shadow very long.

He rolled out the dumpling wrappers, the rolling pin turning very quickly. The round wrappers were neatly arranged on the chopping board, like moons scattered on the ground.

Grandma was helping to make the dumplings. Qianqian sat on the stove, kneading a piece of dough in her hands. Her face was covered with some white flour, making her look like a little cat.

"The green vegetables should be stir-fried last to keep them crispy." Zhou Yimin shook off the water from the washed spinach, poured the oil into the pan as soon as it started to smoke, quickly stir-fried it a few times with chopsticks, sprinkled some salt and served. The green color was pleasing to the eye.

The last dish is egg soup. Pour the beaten eggs into boiling water, stir them into golden egg flowers, sprinkle with coriander, add a few drops of sesame oil, and serve it steaming hot on the table.

Zhou Yimin looked at the table of food in front of him and felt a sense of accomplishment.

By the time the setting sun dyed the chimney golden red, half of the table was already filled with dishes for the New Year's Eve dinner. The braised pork was shivering with oil, the chicken stewed with mushrooms was fragrant, and the dumplings were arranged on the curtain like a pair of small ingots.

Zhou Yimin took off his apron and said, "It's time to eat."

After hearing this, Zhou Yimin's grandmother carried Qianqian to the dining table and saw a large table full of dishes: "Yimin, it seems that your cooking skills have improved again."

The old man also echoed.

The night fell like a piece of dark blue velvet, quietly covering the entire Zhoujiazhuang.

In the main room of Zhou Yimin's house, the light of the kerosene lamp was several times brighter than usual, illuminating the eight-immortals table brightly.

The table was filled with New Year's Eve dinner. The braised pork lay trembling in the coarse porcelain bowl. The oily soup flowed down the edge of the meat and formed small puddles at the bottom of the bowl.

The aroma of chicken stewed with mushrooms is the most overbearing. When the lid of the pot is opened, white steam rises up, carrying the freshness of wild mushrooms and the fragrance of chicken, and it circles around the house for several times before dispersing.

Grandma was sitting on the edge of the kang holding Qianqian. The little girl was wearing a flowered jacket bought by Zhou Yimin, with some white flour on her cuffs. She was stretching her little hands to reach for the fried peanuts on the table.

"Qianqian, you can't eat this." Zhou Yimin's grandmother said.

Then he picked up the prepared milk powder and started feeding the baby.

After feeding her, he picked up a peanut, peeled it and stuffed it into her mouth. He also picked up a piece of braised pork, squinting his eyes and savoring the taste. "Yimin's cooking skills are much better than mine."

Zhou Yimin quickly explained: "No, grandma, the food you cook is the best. I am far behind you."

The old man also said: "Yimin, you are right."

Then he took a cup of rice wine and poured half of it on the ground, muttering to himself, "May the ancestors bless us, and may the weather be good and the crops be harvested in the coming year, and may my family be safe and sound."

Zhou Yimin quickly followed suit and poured some wine. Seeing his grandfather bring the wine cup to his lips, he put a chicken leg into his bowl and said, "Grandpa, this chicken is from Zhoujiazhuang. Please eat more."

Qianqian couldn't sit still in her grandmother's arms anymore and struggled to get off the bed. Zhou Yimin lifted her onto his lap, scooped some egg soup with a spoon, blew it cool, and brought it to her mouth.

The little guy swallowed it in one gulp with an "ah-wu", with egg yolk on the corners of his mouth, like a kitten that had secretly drunk honey, making everyone at the table laugh.

Grandma took the opportunity to stuff a dumpling into her mouth. It was specially made with sugar filling. Qianqian chewed it twice, her eyes curved into crescents, and she clapped her hands on the table, mumbling, "Sweet! Sweet!"

"Swallow slowly, don't get it stuck." The old man put down his wine glass and chewed the vegetables slowly with his toothless gums. "Back in the day, just having a white flour bun was considered a New Year's celebration. It's not like now, when we have chicken, duck, fish and meat."

He glanced at Zhou Yimin, the light in his eyes brighter than a lamp, "It's all thanks to you. Yimin has made a difference, and our family is getting better and better."

Just as Zhou Yimin was about to speak, he heard the crackling sound of firecrackers coming from outside the courtyard gate. It was the half-grown children in the village setting off small firecrackers.

Qianqian was so scared that she shrank into his arms, her little hands tightly around his neck, but she curiously leaned her head out the window with her eyes wide open.

"Don't be afraid, they're New Year's firecrackers, they sound lively." Zhou Yimin patted her back and stuffed another piece of apple into her mouth, "Eat something sweet, and you won't be afraid."

Grandma also said: "The sound of firecrackers means good fortune has arrived. Our Qianqian will definitely grow tall next year."

The dishes on the table gradually became less, but the rice wine was added cup after cup.

The old man started talking more, sometimes telling interesting stories about driving a cart when he was young, and sometimes urging Zhou Yimin to do his job well in the city and not to learn those fancy habits.

Zhou Yimin listened patiently, responded from time to time, and when he saw that his grandfather was getting excited, he even helped add some wine.

After the New Year’s Eve dinner, grandma cleared the dishes and took them to the kitchen, while Zhou Yimin added some firewood to the stove to make the house warmer.

The four of them sat around the kang table and began to stay up all night. There were some leftover peanuts, melon seeds and candies on the table.

The old man smoked his pipe and said slowly, "Back then, when we were staying up all night, the whole family would gather around a small stove. Your father was only Qianqian's age at that time, and he always wanted to hear stories. I told him the story of Sun Wukong's havoc in heaven, and he would listen to it until late at night."

Grandma held Qianqian, who was yawning, and continued, "That's right. It wasn't as warm as it is now. We had to endure it even though our hands and feet were freezing. We just hoped that after midnight, everything would go smoothly in the coming year."

Zhou Yimin poured a cup of hot tea for his grandpa and grandma, and said with a smile, "Now that conditions are better, it's much more comfortable to stay up all night. Grandpa, please tell me more about your youth. I haven't heard enough."

The old man was in high spirits. He tapped his pipe on the edge of the kang and began to talk about his experience of hunting in the mountains when he was young: "One winter, it snowed very heavily. Your Grandpa Li and I went to the back mountain and encountered a wild goat. That guy ran very fast. We chased it for a whole day and finally blocked it in a valley..."

Qianqian listened with curious eyes open at first, but soon she lay in her grandmother's arms, her eyelids became heavier and heavier, and finally she fell asleep completely.

The three of them chatted idly, the sound of firecrackers outside the window was intermittent, and occasionally laughter could be heard from the neighbors' house.

Zhou Yimin looked at his watch and realized it was almost ten o'clock.

The old man yawned loudly, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I'm old and can't bear it anymore. I'll leave the task of staying up all night to you, Yimin."

Grandma also nodded: "Yes, my eyelids are starting to fight, I'll take Qianqian back to the room to sleep, you don't stay up too late, go to bed when it's almost time."

Zhou Yimin quickly said, "Grandpa, grandma, go and have some rest. I'm here."

Grandma carefully picked up Qianqian, and the old man stood up tremblingly, and the two slowly walked towards the room. The old man took two steps and turned back, reminding: "Don't forget to set off firecrackers at twelve o'clock to drive away evil spirits."

"I understand, sir. Don't worry." Zhou Yimin responded.

Watching them enter the room, Zhou Yimin added some more firewood to the stove and stayed alone in the main room.

The moonlight outside shines in through the window lattice. The room is quiet, with only the occasional crackling sound of firewood. The festive atmosphere of the New Year becomes stronger in this tranquility.

Watching them enter the room, Zhou Yimin added some more firewood to the stove and stayed alone in the main room.

He was suddenly the only one left in the living room. The hustle and bustle from before seemed to still linger in the air, but now it was so quiet that he could only hear his own breathing.

He sat down on the edge of the kang, picked up the melon seeds on the table and ate two, but found they had no taste.

Suddenly I missed the mobile phones of later generations. If I had a mobile phone, I could watch videos, read the news, or chat with friends right now. Not to mention staying up until midnight, I could easily stay up until the next morning.

But now, apart from the snacks on the table, there is nothing else, not even a radio.

Zhou Yimin paced back and forth in the room bored, looking at the old clock hanging on the wall from time to time. The hands were moving slowly, as if deliberately against him.

After a while, he walked to the window again and looked at the dark night sky outside. Occasionally, a few sparks flashed by, which were the lights shining through the windows of other houses.

He picked up the peanuts on the table and peeled them one by one. The peeled peanut kernels piled up in the palm of his hand, and before he knew it, he had a small handful.

I picked up another piece of candy and put it in my mouth. The sweet taste spread across my tongue, but it still couldn't dispel the boredom brought by the long wait.

Time passed by minute by minute, and the clock on the wall ticked, as if counting every passing second.

Zhou Yimin glanced at his watch from time to time, hoping that time would pass faster and faster.

Finally, the watch hands slowly pointed to twelve o'clock.

Zhou Yimin almost jumped up from his chair, unable to wait even a second.

He walked quickly to the corner of the living room and picked up the firecrackers tied with a red rope.

This was purchased by Zhou Yimin from the store a few days ago. It is two meters long, and each firecracker is plump. The words "Good Luck" printed on the red paper are particularly bright under the light.

He ran to the yard with firecrackers in his hands. The cold air penetrated his collar, but it couldn't block the warmth in his heart.

Before he had time to collect the clothesline in the middle of the yard, he stood on tiptoe to lift the firecracker up, wrapped the red rope around the rope twice and tied it tightly. The firecracker hung down like a long red snake, and the fuse at the end hung in the air like a thin red hair rope.

Zhou Yimin took out a matchbox from his pocket, his fingers trembling a little. He struck three matches before it ignited. The orange-red flame swayed in the wind, and he quickly protected it with his hands and moved closer to the fuse.

"Zizila--" The moment the fuse was lit, a string of sparks appeared and rushed up along the line like a frightened little snake, bringing with it a choking smell of sulfur.

He took three steps back, his heart beating like a drum. Just as he retreated to the eaves, the firecrackers at the bottom exploded! "Pop!" There was a crisp sound, which made his ears buzz. Red confetti surged up like a fountain, and then fell down, covering the snow with a layer of red velvet.

Then, the whole firecracker "came to life"! "Crackle! Crackle!" The firecrackers exploded one after another, and the sound was as dense as frying beans, and like countless small drums beating at the same time.

The fire flickered in the darkness, illuminating the yard. Zhou Yimin's shadow was stretched longer and shorter, dancing happily on the wall.

A few firecrackers were not hung firmly and fell off the ropes, making a loud "bang bang" sound in the snow. The bursting paper scraps splashed up fine snow foam, like a handful of gold powder.

Zhou Yimin watched with great amusement, smiling as he retreated toward the door. The smell of gunpowder from the firecrackers mixed with the chill of the snow penetrated his nose, choking him and making him cough, but he was reluctant to move away.

This string of firecrackers lasted for three full minutes. When the last blast rang out, the entire Zhoujiazhuang seemed to have been switched on.

Other people in the village also started setting off firecrackers, and suddenly the whole Zhoujiazhuang was filled with the endless sound of firecrackers.

For people with light sleep, it is destined to be a sleepless night.

(End of this chapter)