Chapter 240 Happy Chinese New Year!
On the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month, Jishui Village awakens enveloped in snow and the festive atmosphere of the New Year.
A wisp of smoke, carrying moisture, drifted upwards. Soon, smoke began to rise one after another from the village chimneys, like countless slender incense sticks stuck into the snow-covered rooftops.
In Jiang Ling's new home, the charcoal fire was burning brightly, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.
She looked out the window; the village was much noisier than usual.
The smoke rising from the chimneys of every household seemed to carry a hint of urgency.
The mill in the village creaked and groaned as the women hurried to grind fine flour for the New Year.
The aroma of fried dough cakes and steamed buns occasionally wafts through the air, tempting people's mouths.
Grandpa Zhao strolled around the village with his hands behind his back, checking on each household's preparations for fire prevention during the Spring Festival, and loudly giving instructions:
"Keep the firewood piles away from the house! Hang the lanterns securely! We can't be careless!"
Xiao Ran was using a bamboo broom to pile the snow in the yard into the corner of the wall, while Xiao Yi followed behind, patting the snow down with his hands, trying to build a bigger snowman than last time.
"Brother! Here! Here! Stack it higher!"
"Sweep the road first, otherwise it will freeze when the sun comes out."
Xiao Ran's voice was a bit deeper than it had been six months ago; the thirteen-year-old boy had grown to Jiang Ling's shoulder.
Jiang Ling had just stepped out when she heard Aunt Zhao's loud voice coming from outside the courtyard gate:
"Xiao Ran! Xiao Yi! Come out and get something!"
There, Aunt Zhao was carrying a wicker basket with two steaming baskets of rice cakes inside, still emitting white steam.
"Miss Jiang, here's some freshly steamed rice cake, please try it!"
"This year we added some red dates and red beans, so it's sweeter than last year. This is your first time celebrating the Lunar New Year in your new house, so we want to wish you a prosperous year."
Jiang Ling smiled and accepted it, saying, "Thank you, Aunt Zhao."
Aunt Zhao glanced into the yard, saw the snow piled up in the corner, and smiled again:
"Xiao Ran is such a diligent child. My Hu Zi is still lazing in bed. I'll have to give him a good talking to later."
Jiang Ling put the rice cakes into the kitchen, and just as she turned around, she saw Fu Chengze come in from outside, holding a roll of red paper and a large calligraphy brush.
“Miss Jiang, the weather is nice today, so it’s a good day to help the villagers write Spring Festival couplets. A few days ago, Xiao Ran said that your new house was missing a couplet, so I thought of a couplet. Take a look and see if it suits your taste.”
Jiang Ling leaned closer and saw Fu Chengze spread out red paper, dip his brush in ink, and with a flick of his wrist, write: "The warm spring breeze enters the new home."
Several large characters were written on the paper, the ink varying in shades, exuding a scholarly air.
Xiao Ran came in after sweeping the snow and saw it. She quickly came over and said, "Mr. Fu, I also want to learn how to write Spring Festival couplets. I'd like to write one for my family too!"
"Okay." Fu Chengze handed a smaller calligraphy brush to Xiao Ran.
"Practice the character '福' (fortune) first; you have to master the characters before you can write Spring Festival couplets."
Xiao Ran held the pen and began to write earnestly on the scrap paper.
Jiang Ling turned to make tea, and then saw Grandpa Zhao walk in.
Grandpa Zhao was holding an account book, which contained statistics on the amount of grain donated to Bailong Temple by the village.
"Miss Jiang, look, these are the numbers reported by each household. Some donated millet, some donated brown rice, and a few even donated sugar cakes." He handed over the ledger, pointing to the figures.
“The monks from Bailong Temple will come to pray for blessings on the morning of the 30th of the twelfth lunar month. We need to prepare the offerings in advance so that they can take them back. If it’s convenient for you, please donate some fine rice. The old monks in the temple are too old to eat coarse grains.”
"Of course." Jiang Ling nodded.
"I'll go to the warehouse and get two bags of polished rice and a few packets of sugar for the young monks in the temple to snack on."
This has been a tradition in Jishui Village for many years.
At the beginning of the new year, we invited the monks from the temple to the village to chant sutras and pray for blessings, so that the whole village could have a peaceful and prosperous year and that the fields could yield a bountiful harvest.
The villagers would then offer some of their own grain or money as a sacrifice to Buddha.
A short while later, Aunt Qian arrived, this time bringing freshly fried meatballs, golden and crispy, still steaming hot on the plate.
"Try it! This year's meatballs have some minced meat added, they're even more fragrant than in previous years. I'll send some over to the kids later too."
On the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, the village became even more lively.
The men began slaughtering pigs and sheep to prepare meat for the New Year's Eve dinner.
The women gathered together to make dumplings; some rolled out the wrappers, others mixed the filling, and they finished the work while chatting and laughing.
The children were the happiest, gathering in groups of three or five with small firecrackers, setting them off in the open space. The crackling sounds rose and fell, and occasionally a timid child would be frightened and cry, only to be quickly cheered up by candy offered by their friends.
Zhao Yin's wife got up before dawn to prepare the dough for steaming large white steamed buns to be used for New Year's sacrifices and entertaining guests.
When those plump white steamed buns came out of the steamer, they carried the original sweet aroma of wheat, and each one had a split open, symbolizing "always smiling".
Next door, Aunt Qian's family is frying crispy pork, meatballs, and fried tofu puffs, which are essential for the Chinese New Year.
The hot oil and the batter-coated dough burst into a fragrant aroma, making the mouths of passing children water.
At Aunt Zhou's house, meat was being cooked. Large chunks of pork were bubbling and rolling in the iron pot, the aroma of the meat mixed with the fragrance of star anise and cinnamon filling the air.
Jiang Ling wasn't idle either.
Although she is not good at traditional steaming and frying, she has her own methods.
She took out the oven and baked cakes and egg tarts, and also made some cookies, intending to let the village children have a taste.
The noise outside the courtyard grew louder and louder, and Xiao Yi ran in and shouted:
"Sister Jiang! Ashu and the others are here! They even brought paper-cut window decorations!"
When Jiang Ling went outside, she saw Bi Qing standing at the door with Ashu and several children, holding various colored paper-cut window decorations, including chubby babies holding fish, magpies perched on plum blossoms, and lifelike little rabbits.
"We cut these at the temple and put them on Sister Jiang's new window."
Xiao Yi picked up a paper-cut window decoration to admire it, "That paper-cut window decoration is really beautiful!"
Biqing scratched her head, a little embarrassed: "The old monks at the temple taught me. They say cutting paper-cuts can bring good fortune. Sister Jiang, can we help you put them up?"
Jiang Ling smiled and nodded, took the glue, and together with the children, pasted the paper-cut window decorations on the windows of the main room.
The red paper-cut window decorations reflected the white snow outside, and the flickering candlelight inside made the chubby baby's face seem to come alive, instantly bringing the festive atmosphere of the New Year.
Lunar New Year's Eve has finally arrived.
Before dawn, the sound of the bell from Bailong Temple reached Jishui Village.
The villagers got up early, put on new clothes, and gathered under the old locust tree at the village entrance with the offerings they had prepared, waiting for the monks to come and pray for them.
Jiang Ling arrived with Xiao Ran and Xiao Yi, carrying two bags of fine rice and a packet of candy.
Grandpa Zhao stood at the very front, eagerly waiting.
Before long, the sounds of wooden fish drums and chanting could be heard from afar.
Everyone looked up and saw the abbot of Bailong Temple leading eight monks, dressed in red robes, walking along the snowy path.
The abbot walked at the front, holding a string of prayer beads. Behind him, some monks were striking wooden fish, some were carrying banners, and some were holding scriptures. Their steps were steady and their expressions solemn.
The villagers made way for them, their faces filled with reverence.
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