When it was time to light the lanterns, the steward came looking for Qingchen with a lantern and took her and Old Shen to have New Year's Eve dinner.

Light snowflakes drifted across the deep blue night sky, candlelight shone from the houses along the way, and the bright red paper-cut window decorations stood out vividly, creating a festive New Year atmosphere.

As Qingchen passed by the flower hall, she heard laughter and cheerful voices coming from inside. The steward explained that this was a New Year's Eve feast that Song Yue had prepared separately for the servants. Although they were servants, they were eating before their masters, which showed that being a servant in the Song household was a very happy thing.

When they took their seats, Song Yue was already sitting inside, waiting for them. He was still wearing the same moon-colored robe he wore that morning, its surface gleaming with a delicate sheen. A stove was burning in the room, and candles were lit, making it warm and inviting. A red satin tablecloth covered the round table, upon which were laid out a dazzling array of delicacies, each stack steaming hot and exuding a mouthwatering aroma.

After the steward left, only the three of them remained in the room. Qingchen took off his cloak and sat down next to Song Yue. He ladled soup for her and her father, saying, "Drink some hot soup first to warm yourselves up."

"Um."

"I didn't know what your dad and you liked to eat, so I had the kitchen make some dishes from your hometown," he said. "They don't usually cook like that, so I don't know if they're authentic. Try them and see if they suit your taste."

Qingchen took a look and indeed found that many of the dishes were from the Jiangnan region. The table was full of food, plentiful and festive, including West Lake Vinegar Fish, Longjing Shrimp, Braised Lion's Head Meatballs, as well as cold dishes such as preserved chicken, red dates, and pork liver, rice cakes, pig's trotters, mushrooms and bamboo shoots, eight-treasure rice, and poria cocos and black chicken soup.

The West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce in front of her reminded Qingchen of her childhood. Back then, before her father passed away, he would also make this kind of fish for her. It was sweet and sour, a flavor that encapsulated the taste of New Year's Eve dinner in her memory.

Now that he's gone, she's arrived in the Ming Dynasty, but the person she's spending the New Year with is Song Yue. Thinking about it, she feels a little unbelievable.

Song Yue rolled up his sleeves and scooped a spoonful of lion's head meatballs for her, "...Be careful, it's hot."

Qingchen looked at the lion's head meatballs in the bowl and smiled. "I still remember the first time I came to your house, I ate too fast and burned my tongue."

Song Yue looked at her lips and hummed in agreement, "You burned the tip of your tongue red."

She lowered her head somewhat embarrassedly, then glanced at the warm wine on the stove and said, "It's New Year's, why aren't you drinking, teacher?"

"No rush, let me have some soup with you first," he said. "Can your father drink it?"

“Sure,” she quickly replied. “I can drink too.”

"...This liquor is quite strong, you'd better not drink it."

Qingchen looked at him and thought to herself that he clearly knew she was a woman and didn't want her to drink. He was trying to use the same trick he used at the inn to trick her into drinking strong alcohol.

“In previous years, I would drink a little with my dad during the Lunar New Year. I would drink less if it was strong, it’s okay.”

He looked up at her. "You really want to drink?"

"Is this wine expensive? If it is, I'm afraid the teacher will feel bad about it, so I won't drink it." As she spoke, she looked at her father, "Right, Dad? We can't let Teacher Song go broke from drinking."

"Let's eat something first," he said with a hint of helplessness, picking up some food for the two of them. "Eating something before drinking will make it easier to get drunk."

Qingchen picked up the wine pot from the stove and filled a cup for each of them. Then, he raised his own cup and looked at him, saying, "Newly brewed wine, green as ants; a small red clay stove. Evening approaches, and snow is imminent. Shall we drink a cup together?"

"I can't wait to taste the teacher's fine wine."

Seeing her actions, Song Yue had no choice but to pick up his cup as well. Qing Chen smiled and gently touched his cup to hers, saying, "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." He took a sip of wine, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"In previous years, did your teacher not spend the New Year with your parents either?" Qingchen asked, putting down his wine glass.

“They are old and it is always inconvenient for them to travel long distances. I also have court affairs to attend to and cannot get away, so we cannot get together,” he said. “If you do not come this year, I will spend the holiday with the servants as in previous years.”

Do you feel lonely?

"To be honest, I'm quite lonely." With that, he picked up his glass and drank it all by himself.

"Really? Teachers can be lonely too?" She found it hard to believe that the word "lonely" would come from his mouth. As a high-ranking official, he was usually busy with political affairs, and everyone always thought he was invulnerable, so they assumed he would be able to control his emotions and would never experience loneliness or vulnerability.

He smiled slightly, "Everyone is afraid of being alone."

On the table, the candlelight flickered. A thin layer of light shone on his face, his long, straight eyelashes gently covering his dark eyes, making him appear handsome, refined, and dignified.

Looking at him, Qingchen couldn't help but think, "If that's the case, why doesn't he get married? Take the daughter of the Duke of Dingguo, for example. She's so devoted, so devoted, yet all she sees every year are his handkerchiefs. How much more enjoyable would it be to sit down and drink with him?"

For some reason, after watching Song Yue put the handkerchief away that afternoon, she couldn't help but keep thinking that he had given her a small box before. Could he have put all those handkerchiefs in the same exquisite box?

Seeing that she was lost in thought, Song Yue tapped the table. "What are you thinking about?"

Qingchen shook her head and poured herself a full glass. "It's nothing."

Drink less.

She ignored him, picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp. The liquor hit her throat, spicy but very satisfying.

For a long time, she had disguised herself as a man, mingling among men, taking the imperial examinations and entering officialdom, never daring to relax for a moment. On a festive occasion like today, facing people she didn't need to worry about revealing her identity, Qingchen felt very relaxed and wanted to indulge herself for once.

Song Yue couldn't stop her, so he could only watch her. In the candlelight, in front of the window lattice, her face was fair and delicate, her skin so good it seemed to glow, her nose was straight and refined, and her lips, still damp with wine, were slightly glistening.

Even dressed as a man, she was so beautiful and flawless that it was impossible to look away. If one were lucky enough to see her in women's clothing, one wonders how she would captivate one so completely.

Qingchen finished her drink and wanted to pour herself another cup, but Song Yue grabbed her hand as she was about to pick up the pot. "No more. You'll get drunk if you drink any more."

The candlelight flickered gently.

He didn't let go of her hand, but slowly lowered it and placed it on the table, still holding her hand.

Qingchen felt as if the wine was fermenting in her body, making her heart beat faster and her face feel hot. The hand he held in his palm was warm and trembling slightly.

His eyes were deep and bright, and she was a little afraid to look at him. She just let him hold her hand and lowered her head slightly.

On this night of family reunion and bidding farewell to the old year and welcoming the new, a quiet warmth flowed gently through this small world. After a while, Song Yue finally let go of Qingchen's hand.

He picked up the teapot and poured tea for the three of them, saying, "Have some tea."

"Mm." Qingchen nodded awkwardly.

A short while later, firecrackers went off outside.

During the Ming Dynasty, almost every family had the custom of staying up all night on New Year's Eve. The night was long, and people would begin their New Year's Eve dinner around dusk, eating, drinking, and chatting slowly, usually until late into the night. During this time, people would also temporarily leave their seats to do other things, such as setting off firecrackers or watching song and dance performances.

The sounds of firecrackers and merriment outside were coming from the servants of the Song family.

Old Shen, having drunk a few glasses of wine, was feeling a bit dizzy and slumped onto the table. Qingchen called his name twice, but he didn't respond, so she simply helped him to the couch and let him lie down.

Song Yue found a felt blanket and covered him with it, then walked to the window, glanced out, and turned back to ask, "Do you want to go outside and watch them set off firecrackers?"

"OK."

When she was little, she was quite tomboyish. During Chinese New Year, she would light fireworks without incense, just with a lighter. She was also very brave. When playing with her friends, she would always check on any duds and would even use firecrackers to scare the boys, chasing them all over the street. It wasn't until her father passed away that she became less talkative.

The two put on their cloaks, went out the door, and came to a small pavilion with a stilted roof on the edge of the courtyard.

Qingchen and Song Yue sat side by side. Through the moon gate, they could see the maids and servants playing in the courtyard. Red paper scraps from firecrackers filled the courtyard, mingling with the fine snowflakes falling from the sky, creating a unique atmosphere of the New Year.

"Has the teacher ever lit firecrackers?"

"I ordered it."

"So you have playful moments too." Qingchen tilted her head to look at him. "You seem like someone who has always been strict with yourself since childhood, oblivious to everything else, only knowing how to bury yourself in your studies, reading classics and poems, and practicing calligraphy with both hands..." Unlike her, who was very mischievous when she was young.

Song Yue smiled and said, "There are times when I feel lazy, especially during holidays. All the other kids around me are playing, and I can't resist the temptation."

“Your willpower is still not strong enough.” She looked at her. “I thought the Grand Secretary was no ordinary person since childhood.”

He rolled up his sleeves slightly, revealing a scar on his right wrist. "I'm just an ordinary person. Not only did I light a firecracker, but I also got burned by it because of my clumsy movements, and I still have the scar. One year when I was paying tribute, the emperor received a bottle of ointment from the Western Regions, which he said could remove scars. In front of all the officials, he said he wanted to give it to me and asked me how I got this scar. I was too embarrassed to say that I got it from a firecracker."

Qingchen couldn't help but chuckle. She stared at his scar for a while, then suddenly remembered something. She rolled up her sleeve, revealing her right wrist. "I just remembered, I also have a scar in the same spot, also called a firecracker burn... What a coincidence."

She always celebrated the New Year with her father, putting up the couplets and window decorations herself, and lighting the firecrackers herself. Two years ago, before she came to the capital, she had bad luck and bought a string of cheap firecrackers. One of the sections went off as soon as it was lit, and even she, who had been lighting firecrackers since she was a child, was startled.

Song Yue blinked, looked at his own, then at hers, "If the Emperor were to bestow upon you scar-removing ointment in the future..."

Hearing this, Qingchen couldn't help but giggle, "Then I'll say I was blown up by firecrackers along with the teacher..."

Just then, a loud bang suddenly came from the courtyard. The servants had tied two strings of firecrackers together and lit them at the same time. The double crackling sound was especially intense.

Song Yue was stunned for a moment, then quickly covered Qing Chen's ears with both hands.

Qingchen was also startled, but after her ears were covered, she felt much better. She then recalled her conversation with Song Yue and couldn't help but laugh again.

He gazed quietly at her smiling face. In the dim moonlight, her eyes shone brightly, and her pale red lips curved into a beautiful arc.

Qingchen chuckled to herself for a while before realizing he was staring intently at her, his gaze deep and unwavering, his eyelids slightly lowered. She was momentarily stunned, her heart suddenly racing. "What…?"

Alright...

Before he could utter the last word, he had already lowered his head, his face almost touching hers.

A moment later, his lips covered hers, giving her a light peck.

Qingchen was completely stunned. Caught off guard and at a loss, he felt himself suddenly enveloped by his unique aura. Thick and warm, it rushed towards him, dispelling the winter chill.

Looking at the person in front of him who was already stunned, Song Yue whispered, "Qingchen, I like you."

After saying that, he turned his face slightly and kissed her lips again.

This time, unlike last time when he only took a quick sip, he gently and slowly captured her lips, licking them delicately and sucking them lightly.

Qingchen felt her heartbeat and breathing were out of her control. With another sudden kiss, her body seemed to become softer and softer.

After what seemed like an eternity, Song Yue finally stopped and took a couple of light breaths. He released one of his hands from her ear and whispered in her ear, "Did you hear that? I said, I like you."

Her eyelashes fluttered slightly as she looked at him so close to her, feeling a deep affection in his eyes that she had never seen before.

"Qingchen," he whispered in her ear again, "Did you hear me?"

She unconsciously pursed her lips slightly, his breath still lingering on her skin, "...Mmm."

Just then, the firecrackers stopped, but the laughter and chatter continued. He released his hands from her ears and brushed aside the fine hairs by her ear. "Were you frightened?"

"...No. It's just...I'm a little slow to react."

"Twice already, and you still can't react?"

Qingchen lowered his head. This thing... can it be counted by the number of times?

He cupped her face in his hands again. "The servants are playing around over there, they won't come over. You have plenty of time... to react."

As he spoke, he placed one hand on the back of her head and kissed her again.

This time, their lips and tongues truly intertwined, intimately and passionately... Qingchen felt as if she was about to suffocate.

Outside the pavilion, the snow was still falling.