New clothes for the New Year

Wang Fugui's shrill, harsh voice, filled with a sour, rotten tone, was like ice water poured into boiling oil.

The laughter and chatter in the courtyard came to an abrupt halt, as if an invisible hand had choked them.

The smiles on Aunt Wang's and Widow Zhao's faces froze instantly, a familiar fear flashing in their eyes. They instinctively took a half-step back, shrinking behind Ling Zhan. The children, like startled quails, stopped playing and huddled together, timidly watching the gloomy, mean face outside the fence. Even Shen Yan's polished, bustling smile quickly cooled, a cold wariness flashing in his peach blossom eyes, his fingers tightening unconsciously around the wine jar.

Only Ling Zhan seemed indifferent, as if the breeze blowing past the fence was merely an insignificant breeze.

She was bending over.

His expression was so focused it was almost harsh, as he carefully examined the hanging angle of a salted fish on the drying rack.

Her fingertips steadily adjusted the thin hemp rope, ensuring that each side dried evenly, not even sparing a glance.

Wang Fugui was so choked by this complete disregard that his heart felt blocked, and a surge of anger rushed to his head.

He cleared his throat heavily, raised his voice to a high-pitched tone, and spoke in a condescending manner, as if he were scrutinizing a criminal.

"Ling family! Shen Yan! Your courtyard is quite lively, with a large commotion here!"

That look in his eyes was as if he were counting stolen goods.

Shen Yan forced a smile into a forced, insincere one.

He took a step forward, his sturdy body cleverly blocking Ling Zhan and the women and children, instantly adopting that slick, worldly manner.

"Oh! Village Head! You're personally making your rounds? It's freezing cold, you must be tired! Come in and have some hot water to warm yourself up!"

He sang sweeter than honey, but his feet were rooted to the spot, showing no intention of opening the door to welcome guests.

Wang Fugui snorted coldly.

His gaze was like a poisoned hook.

The greedy, cold wind swept over the salted fish, braised rabbit, and thick new door curtain in the yard, finally settling firmly on the things that Aunt Wang and Widow Zhao had brought, with a forced, insincere smile.

"I dare not accept such praise! You all live such a splendid life, even more so than me, the village head! Look at all this New Year's goods, salted fish, cured meat, steamed buns, and liquor, tsk tsk..."

He deliberately dragged out the words, each one like a poison coated in sugar.

"With the mountains blocked by heavy snow, even the birds are starving and shivering. Every household is tightening their belts to the bone. Yet you... your supplies have arrived in such a complete and timely manner?"

The words "complete and timely" were emphasized, blatantly implying that the goods were "obsolete."

Aunt Wang's face turned pale instantly.

Widow Zhao was so frightened that she lowered her head and her shoulders trembled slightly.

The younger children were terrified and dared not utter a sound. Shen Yan's fake smile completely crumbled, and the coldness in his eyes froze into ice.

Just as he was about to retort, a clear, calm, yet powerful voice, like an icicle piercing through the noise, rang out distinctly:

"Earned by myself. Given by others." These six words resonated deeply.

Ling Zhan finally turned around, his gaze calm and unwavering, yet meeting Wang Fugui's gloomy little eyes with an unyielding intensity.

She still held the clean linen in her hand, her posture casual yet as steady as a mountain, exuding a natural air of openness and fearlessness.

“If the village head feels something is amiss,” she said, raising her chin slightly, her tone almost indifferent, “he may investigate.”

Wang Fugui felt a chill run down his spine under her direct, frank, and almost arrogant gaze, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Investigate? How do I investigate?

Even the county magistrate pretended to be deaf and dumb to the source of this evil star's money and provisions!

He simply wanted to take this opportunity to put people in a bad position and squeeze some money out of them.

He gave a dry laugh to cover his embarrassment: "Hehe, Madam Ling is joking. It's a blessing for our Kaoshan Village that you're doing well!"

The laughter was dry, like sandpaper scraping.

He abruptly changed the subject, his small eyes darting around the children in the yard, his tone becoming feignedly "earnest and sincere."

"However, Madam Ling, Young Master Shen, to be frank, as the village head, I must remind you of something. These twenty-odd mouths are money-devouring beasts! The household tax and land tax at the beginning of spring... they're all dreading us!"

He pointed to the snow-covered slope outside the courtyard wall, which Ling Zhan and his men had already leveled into shape, planning to plant sweet potatoes and vegetables in the spring. "And this newly reclaimed wasteland, that also has to be paid according to the rules, a 'reclamation tax'! The laws of the court are ironclad! You can't be careless! You all have to... tighten your belts and make plans early!"

He enunciated the words "reclamation donation" with great emphasis and clarity; these were his true fangs!

Upon hearing this, Aunt Wang and Widow Zhao both showed deep concern on their faces.

These taxes are a huge burden for them, let alone for the Ling Zhan family.

Shen Yan's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and he gritted his teeth: That old dog!

Ling Zhan's face remained expressionless.

She didn't even look at Wang Fugui's greedy face; her gaze seemed to be drawn to a salted fish on the drying rack, swaying slightly in the wind.

Just as Wang Fugui thought she was overwhelmed by this "reality," and a smug smile appeared on his lips.

Her calm, even voice rang out again, but the content was like a thunderclap: "How much tax is levied? What are the categories? Does the village head have any official documents or receipts stamped with the official seal?" Her gaze suddenly turned to Wang Fugui, sharp as a knife. "Let me see it." Her tone was one of unquestionable command.

"If there is a written agreement, the amount due will be paid in full, not a penny less, not a cent owed." She paused, her tone suddenly turning icy, with an unwavering certainty. "If there is no written agreement, and it's just empty talk, then it's setting up a pretext, extorting and plundering the villagers!"

She spoke each word clearly and distinctly: "According to the 'Law of the Great Yin Dynasty on Household and Marriage,' the punishment is eighty strokes of the cane and exile for three thousand li. Village head, would you like to give it a try?"

The last sentence, like a judgment formed from the coldest ice of the underworld, silenced the entire courtyard like a deathly stillness!

The cold wind, carrying snowflakes, howled as it swept past the fence.

Wang Fugui's fake smile froze completely, like the skin of a frozen salted fish.

His small eyes suddenly widened, almost bulging out, as he stared at Ling Zhan in disbelief. His lips trembled violently, and his face turned ashen, from flushed red to ashen, and then to deathly pale!

Eighty strokes of the cane? Exile for three thousand miles?! How dare this woman?!

How could she possibly understand the "Da Yin Law"?! That "reclamation tax"... it's his lifeline!

Shen Yan was stunned, and then his eyes burst forth with a light of wild joy and almost worship!

Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! A killer move that strikes at the heart!

Seeing Wang Fugui's comical expression, like a toad struggling for its life, he almost laughed himself sick! He immediately straightened his back, as if possessed by an upright official on a stage, his slick, street-smart demeanor instantly transforming into one of righteous indignation, and loudly proclaimed to Wang Fugui, "Did you hear that? Your Honor! Where are the official documents? Quickly show them to us! We are law-abiding citizens, and we'll scrape together every penny we have to pay your taxes! As for the ones you shouldn't pay..."

He mimicked Wang Fugui's tone, drawing out the last syllable, and smiled with an "innocent" look on his face, "Hehe, we also have to act according to the 'court law,' right? Don't you think so?"

Wang Fugui trembled with rage, pointing at Chen Yan and Ling Zhan, making strange "hoarse" sounds in his throat: "You...you...you've rebelled! You've defied the heavens!"

He trembled for a long time, unable to utter a single useful word.

Official documents? He only had a few blank contracts stamped with his private seal in his pocket! How could he dare to actually take them out for confrontation?

That "reclamation tax" was his cash cow!

Ling Zhan's casual remark about the "Da Yin Law" exposed his true colors in public, and his old face turned as red as a monkey's bottom. He felt that the gazes of Aunt Wang, Widow Zhao, and even the group of kids around him were like red-hot irons burning his body!

"Hmph! Sharp-tongued! We'll see about that!"

In the end, he could only squeeze out a few blustering but weak words from deep in his throat. He suddenly flicked his sleeve, almost causing his nephew next to him to stumble. He didn't care about any semblance of dignity anymore. He practically tumbled and crawled, staggering and staggering through the snow like a stray dog, fleeing without looking back. His two nephews were dumbfounded and hurriedly chased after him.

"Pfft—Hahaha!"

Watching Wang Fugui's disheveled retreating figure, Shen Yan finally burst into laughter without restraint. He waved exaggeratedly in Wang Fugui's direction and said in a loud voice, "Take care, Lord Village Head! The roads are slippery in the snow, so please watch your step! Don't strain your old back!"

Aunt Wang and Widow Zhao then seemed to snap out of their daze, letting out a long sigh of relief. Their eyes, filled with awe at having survived a calamity and heartfelt gratitude, looked at Ling Zhan. The heavy weight that had been pressing on their hearts for years seemed to have been lifted by a single sentence from Miss Ling!

"Miss Ling...you are truly...truly our great benefactor!"

The widow Zhao was so excited that she was incoherent, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Ling Zhan seemed to have merely brushed a snowflake off her shoulder. She bent down to pick up the burlap that had fallen to the ground, walked to the drying rack, and meticulously continued to wipe the smooth bamboo poles, her voice as calm as ever: "It's nothing."

It was as if she had only chased away a noisy crow. She looked up at the sky and said to Chen Yan, who was still standing with his hands on his hips, smug and with his tail practically wagging in the air, "Hang up the marinated rabbit meat. It's windy, so tie it tightly with double-stranded straw rope."

"Yes, my lady!"

Shen Yan was in such a good mood that she felt like she could fly. She responded loudly, and as nimbly as a spinning top, she picked up the rabbit meat that was oozing with the aroma of soy sauce. Humming a cheerful little tune that was completely off-key, she went to hang the meat up, and even her steps had a triumphant and bouncy feel to them.

The atmosphere in the courtyard instantly melted away, becoming lively again, even more enthusiastic and joyful than before.

Although the children didn't understand the legal statutes very well, they clapped their hands and laughed happily when they saw the village head, who always had a gloomy face and was frightening, slink away. The older children, Tiger and Bean Sprout, exchanged a glance, their little fists clenching quietly—those characters their mother had forced them to learn were actually so powerful! As sharp as knives!

After wiping the drying rack, Ling Zhan walked to the door of her small house on the west side, preparing to get tools to reinforce the chicken coop.

Before pushing open the door, she paused slightly, catching a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Shen Yan standing on tiptoe, humming a little tune, struggling to hang a plump, glossy braised rabbit on the highest bar. The rare winter sunlight piercing through the clouds fell precisely on his still stubbornly shining golden hairpin, causing tiny specks of light to dance like gold dust.

His face wore an undisguised, childlike, smug smile, like a child who had just received candy.

Ling Zhan withdrew his gaze, his face remaining cold and aloof.

She pushed open the door and went inside, picking up the wood-chopping knife leaning against the door.

Just as she turned to close the door, the corner of her lips seemed to briefly curve upwards in a tiny arc, lighter than falling snow and faster than passing wind, so fleeting it was as if it had never happened.

In the distance, from the direction of Wang Fugui's house, came the suppressed, angry sounds of pots and bowls being smashed.

The year-end is approaching, on the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month.

The air was filled not only with the rich aroma of cured meats, but also with a hint of sweet, oily fragrance and rising steam.

Although they live frugally, trying to make every penny count, their inherent aversion to extravagance and love of ostentation are fully revealed when it comes to the New Year holidays.

Ling Zhan really didn't care about these trivial household purchases and food arrangements; he just let Ling Zhan do whatever he wanted.

After several attempts, Shen Yan was pleasantly surprised to find that when it came to food, no matter how he tried to come up with different dishes, such as golden fried meatballs, rich braised pig's head, or sweet and chewy rice cakes, as long as he didn't waste food and the children ate with gusto, Ling Zhan would turn a blind eye and let him do as he pleased!

So he intensified his efforts, setting up his battlefield early on the wood-fired stove, filling the courtyard daily with the irresistible aroma of meat and the sizzling sound of frying. He learned from the village women how to make all sorts of fried dough sticks, fluffy and sweet steamed rice cakes... and even arranged to exchange New Year's greetings with familiar villagers.

In this way, the air around Ling Zhan's house was already permeated with an intense, pervasive festive atmosphere half a month in advance.

Only she remained steadfast: practicing morning runs before dawn, training despite wind and snow, and meticulously teaching children to read—

Only the increasingly intelligent little golden monkey could sit on her shoulder without restraint, enjoying this unique intimacy.

The Spring Festival is finally here!

Ling Zhan arranged for the whole family to take a hot bath, and then changed into a thick, warm indigo cotton-padded jacket and trousers that Aunt Wang had stayed up all night to make for her. Her hair was neatly tied into a bun with only a smooth, ordinary wooden hairpin inserted into it.

She stepped out of her cubicle, poured herself a cup of hot water, and sat quietly by the window, listening to the children in the yard, dressed in new clothes, excitedly screaming and chasing each other like colorful butterflies.

Not long after, the courtyard gate was pushed open, and a commotion carrying with it a chill rushed in. The villagers' New Year's greetings and exclamations of surprise instantly erupted:

"Oh my goodness! Young man, you...you must have invited the Weaver Girl from heaven to make this for you?! It's so beautiful it's dazzling! You look like a god descended to earth!" It was Aunt Wang's loud voice.

"-Tsk tsk tsk- If you knew you were the son-in-law of our Kaoshan Village, you'd think you were some prince sneaking out to observe the people's conditions!" That was Old Man Li's teasing.

"Goodness! In this freezing weather, doesn't the silk feel cold to the touch? It may look shiny, but it's not as practical as our old cotton-padded coat!" another villager joked in good-naturedly.

Amidst the commotion, Shen Yan, like a peacock king surrounded by stars, with a hint of suppressed pride and barely concealed nervousness, was swayed in front of Ling Zhan by the crowd, displaying his "feathered tail".

The light inside the room seemed to brighten a bit.

Ling Zhan's gaze swept calmly over Shen Yan's bright red brocade robe, which stood out starkly against the drab rural backdrop. It passed over his undeniably handsome profile, which was slightly flushed with nervous anticipation. Finally, it landed on his peach blossom eyes, which held a hint of pride, but more so a touch of trepidation, as he cautiously observed her expression.

Shen Yan cleared his throat, his voice slightly tense:

“Wife, look… this outfit… is it alright? We should wear something new for the New Year… something festive… to match the occasion…” He unconsciously twirled the smooth, cool silk cuffs with his fingers.

In an instant, the air in the entire hall seemed to freeze!

All the villagers instinctively held their breath!

Aunt Wang nervously gripped the hem of her clothes, while Old Man Li frowned with worry. The scene of Shen Yan being beaten in the yard for being "impractical" flashed vividly before everyone's eyes!

And then there's Ling Zhan's concise and unquestionable ironclad rule: practicality!

Chen You's heart leaped into her throat, her mind racing through a hundred lame excuses like "I actually made the clothes myself" or "I found the fabric"...

In this suffocating silence—

Ling Zhan put down the rough pottery cup in his hand, and the bottom of the cup made a soft "tap" sound when it hit the table.

She stood up and walked straight out of the house without looking to either side, as if the dazzling red before her was nothing more than an insignificant wisp of air. Her voice was flat and emotionless, as if she were stating the most mundane matter, clearly uttering only two words:

"what ever."

As soon as she finished speaking, she lifted the heavy curtain and blended into the noisy snow scene of the children outside the courtyard.

All that remained behind him was a house full of dumbfounded villagers, and Chen Yan, who stood frozen in place, his expression shifting from extreme tension to unbelievable ecstasy, and finally settling into a state of utter bewilderment.

His magnificent red robe stood out even more starkly in the simple main room.

------