Li Shuanglin had spent over thirty years in the capital, maintaining deep connections with every government office and every walk of life. His ability to locate Miss Zhou so swiftly was entirely due to the various factions granting him easy passage. Ye Jun, on the other hand, had far too many places to search. In Pingkang Fang alone, including the demon slaves, nearly seven thousand people resided amidst a sea of musical instruments; finding a single lute tainted with demonic qi was no simple task. Consequently, the precious holiday that Wei-daren had barely begun to enjoy came to an abrupt end. She headed out early in the morning to attend to her duties. Fortunately, today was the Little New Year, and even the Yingzhao Temple granted a half-day's leave in the afternoon.
Fourth Brother and Fifth Sister had already departed yesterday afternoon, and I didn't wish to intrude on the time between Sister Qing and my Eldest Senior Brother. Moreover, I was preoccupied with the Little New Year’s Eve dinner for our large household. I went to the kitchen to help Auntie Zhong, Muyu, and Lanzhao, only to be dismissed for my clumsy hands. Luckily, I still possessed some strength and knew how to handle a blade, so I was assigned the task of mincing the dumpling filling.
While I grumbled inwardly about the lack of taste among Northerners—insisting on dumplings when rice cakes were so much better—I took up the knife with a flourish. Before long, I had minced several large basins of meat into a perfect consistency: fine but not mushy, with an ideal balance of fat and lean. I admired my own handiwork, thinking that if Zhen Guanxi had possessed such skill, he might have taken a few less punches from Lu Zhishen and kept his life!
Muyu and the others had begun preparing the pastries. The rich, mellow scent of wheat filled the kitchen and drifted outside, making my mouth water and intensifying my craving for rice cakes. Auntie Zhong, a native of Jinzhou, had already steamed several large vats of rice but simply didn't have the hands free to pound them. Hearing my persistent nagging, she finally brushed the flour from her palms and hurriedly found the wooden mallet for the rice cakes, telling me to just do it myself.
While I certainly had strength to spare, there was someone in the house even stronger than me! I tilted my head back and called out loudly to Yanhui, who was outside sorting and drying nuts and cured meats: "Call Xuesu over!"
Xuesu arrived, trailing a chill as cold as three feet of ice. I smirked and shoved the mallet into her hands, letting Auntie Zhong give her directions. With an angry huff, she brought the mallet down on the rice dough with an earth-shattering thud, nearly cracking the three-inch-thick stone mortar.
Lu Lingfeng and Nie Xiaoyan followed her in. Since the sunlight was rare and pleasant, they moved small tables and stools into the kitchen courtyard to fold red paper and cut window flowers, following the customs of the Little New Year.
Ever since the turmoil at Xixi Loft, I hadn't found a moment to practice my flute for five or six days. Tomorrow, I would have to sneak away from Wei-daren to meet Master Wang at the Qingshang Pavilion, so taking advantage of this rare leisure, I quickly pulled out my flute to practice. I spent fifteen minutes reviewing fingerings as usual, then practiced a few fragments of the "Journey to the Red Cliff" composed by Wei-daren herself, before finally settling on a light melody.
The song "Swallows Flying in Pairs" was well-known to every young girl in the capital. Before I could even finish the first line, Muyu, Lanzhao, and Yanhui all began to sing along with smiles:
"A pair of swallows, and yet another pair,
Their flight together is a sight so fair.
In jade towers and pearl halls, they do not dwell alone,
By golden windows and embroidered doors, their constant love is shown..."
Their sweet, bright voices harmonized with the rhythmic *thump-thump* of the rice pounding and the *snip-snip* of the paper cutting. It was a sound as clear as pearls and jade, cheerful and carefree, rising straight into the clouds. The tall steamers emitted a hot, sweet fragrance, and the white, scalding steam drifted lazily through the air, intimately and joyfully dampening our hair and jewelry.
Even the wind seemed unwilling to be left out, blowing the bright red scraps of paper cut by Lu Lingfeng and Nie Xiaoyan. This elicited cries of alarm from everyone, as we hurriedly blocked the doorway with our bodies to prevent the scraps from drifting into the kitchen or falling into the white rice cakes that Xuesu was so fiercely pummeling. Fortunately, the wind shifted just in time. Seeing the red scraps swirling and dancing in the sunlight before landing on our skirts and hair like bright petals of crabapple blossoms, no one had the heart to sweep them away. We found ourselves longing for the early arrival of the spring breeze—the one that brings the twittering of paired swallows and coaxes ten thousand flowers to bloom in succession.
The setting sun still hung in the western sky, but the children playing in the streets could wait no longer. The first firecrackers of the year’s end began to pop. The occasional *crack-bang* made the "children" of our household itch with anticipation. Nie Xiaoyan leaned in to whisper in Lu Lingfeng’s ear, egging her on to ask me for the firecrackers that were supposed to be saved for the ritual to the Kitchen God later that evening.
By then, we had prepared all the ingredients. Muyu brewed a pot of tea, and we all sat together, drinking tea and snacking on assorted treats. I had already seen through their little plot and was considering what task I should demand in exchange for the firecrackers when Sister Nie arrived with a cheerful laugh, carrying a large bag of firecrackers she had bought herself.
Lu Kaifeng followed behind her with his hands behind his back. He smiled and asked if everything was ready, then picked up a brand-new portrait of the Kitchen God to examine it closely.
Nie Xiaoyan jumped up in delight and reached into the bag in Sister Nie’s hand, pulling out a heap of colorful firecrackers. I glared and stomped my foot, shouting that they weren't allowed to set them off early. Just as the argument reached its peak, Wei Qingming returned. Honglu and Luo Cheng followed behind her, their hands full of large bags of miscellaneous items.
She took one look and understood exactly what we were arguing about. With a squinting smile, she pointed to the things in Honglu’s hands. "No need to rush. There are plenty of new things to play with."
As she spoke, she turned and personally unpacked some of the items. They were all toys beloved by the children of the capital—ingenious and beautiful. Their allure far surpassed that of firecrackers; even my eyes lit up, and I was eager to try them.
Sure enough, Lu Lingfeng and Nie Xiaoyan tossed the firecrackers from their minds and swarmed forward. Xuesu still kept her stiff, cold expression. Suppressing a laugh, I picked up a roly-poly toy shaped like a lion hugging a ball and, catching her off guard, tossed it right onto the top of her head. Usually, these tumblers were made in the image of petty officials in black gauze caps, but the ones Wei-daren bought were naturally superior. This little lion had short, chubby limbs and a charmingly naive expression; the carving was smooth and delicate, without a hint of vulgarity.
Startled, Xuesu cautiously rolled her large eyes upward, straining to glimpse the tumbler perched on her crown. She actually straightened her back, carefully maintaining her balance to ensure it didn't fall off.
Nie Xiaoyan had already snatched up a painted top and skipped over to hand it to Nie Xueqing. The elder Nie sister gave it a casual flick of her whip, and the top began to spin smoothly and steadily. Only then did Nie Xiaoyan take the whip to play with it herself; they must have coordinated like this many times before. Lu Lingfeng rummaged through the mountain of toys for a long time but couldn't find anything that suited her taste—which is to say, something ugly and strange. She frowned in dissatisfaction and reluctantly chose a ceramic bird whistle shaped like a parrot. She filled it with water and blew into it, producing a warbling *war-war* sound.
I watched them with my chin resting in my hand. Lu Kaifeng had somehow drifted over as well, studying one of the objects but hesitating to touch it. Wei Qingming smiled and said, "Why don't you try it, Eldest Brother? This diabolo is well-made and very stable."
Hearing this, my Eldest Senior Brother became even more indecisive. I barely managed to stifle a laugh. The reason was that he had taken on the heavy burdens of the sect from a young age and was prematurely somber. While playing the diabolo was a game mastered by even small children in the North, it was a Northern custom; we rarely saw it in the South, and he simply didn't know how to play.
To give him a way out, I coughed and said playfully to Wei Qingming, "I don't know how to play either! A-Yun, teach me!"
"Alright," she replied softly. She picked up the two sticks with the string attached, looped the string around the waist of the diabolo, and with a few deft, elegant tugs, sent it spinning. With a sudden toss, the diabolo—wide at the ends and thin in the middle—whistled into the sky, soaring so high it seemed it would clear the roof and pierce the clouds. Yet it fell back down obediently and steadily, caught perfectly on her string. Hearing that festive, lively whirring sound—like a burst of hearty laughter—everyone stopped playing with their own toys to look up, clapping and cheering.
Wei-daren gave a modest smile and shook her head. "My brother only taught me this much when I was small. It’s nothing fancy. Honglu and Brother Luo likely know much more."
The two men she named immediately stepped forward. Each picked up a diabolo and began a performance that was half-demonstration, half-show. They displayed various tricks: "The Hawk Flips Its Body," "The Sparrow Enters the Clouds," "The Chicken Perches on the Rack." The diabolos spun in circles, leaping onto their shoulders, rolling down to their toes, and then springing up to their elbows and knees. The audience was dazzled and thoroughly satisfied, shouting in admiration.
Wei Qingming placed her hand over mine and gave me a few pointers. I caught on quickly. At first, my movements were shaky and hesitant, but before long, I was spinning it smoothly. Accompanied by the *hula-hula* hum of the diabolo, I laughed with pride. She simply smiled and reminded me to keep the sound-hole facing my left hand, then sat back to watch quietly.
Eldest Senior Brother ran into some trouble. Perhaps it was because he was the oldest person present, and he couldn't quite bring himself to strike the proper pose and learn seriously. Nie Xueqing laughed and gently pushed away Honglu’s hand as he tried to help. Rolling up her sleeves, she said briskly, "I'll teach you!"
With a grand air, she wound the string and flicked the sticks. It looked promising at first, but she had completely overestimated her own skill. The heavy, chubby diabolo gave a lazy, uncooperative wobble and fell from the string with a dull *thud*.
A roar of laughter erupted, rising into the clouds with such force that it seemed to hold back the sunset. The sun lingered on the horizon, surrounded by glowing crimson clouds, brilliant and warm.
We played until the deep curtain of night fell. Bright lamps were lit all around the courtyard, and the whole family gathered to perform the ritual for the Kitchen God right there. The household of Su Zhenzhen and Wei-daren was unique to begin with; there was no need to follow the old custom that forbade women from participating in the ritual. No one stayed away. We swarmed into the kitchen, pasted up the deity’s portrait, set out incense and candles, and offered fruits and pastries. After bowing together, we crowded joyfully into the flower hall for dinner. Auntie Zhong, Muyu, and the others had already made dozens of trips back and forth to set out two large tables of sumptuous dishes. At my insistence, they also sat down with us, smiling as they joined the feast.
Halfway through the meal, I suddenly remembered an important food item I had forgotten to bring. I hurriedly dropped my chopsticks. Still clutching half a piece of fish in my mouth, I swallowed it quickly and ran back to the kitchen. There were too many steamers, and I didn't know which one Auntie Zhong and the others had put them in. I searched frantically, accidentally touching the edge of the stove. I hopped back in pain and quickly pressed my fingers to my earlobes to cool them down.
"Why such a rush?" Her voice drifted in with the night air. Wei-daren entered and saw that I had burned myself. Looking distressed, she frowned and used a spell to apply a cold compress. The pain vanished instantly.
Just as I was about to speak, a piece of candy was unexpectedly pressed between my lips. It was the malt candy traditionally eaten in the North—a thin, crisp slice, fragrant and sweet. My delight made me completely forget the sting in my fingertips, and I grinned, the candy slice wobbling as I bit down.
Under the warm, dim lamplight, her eyes flickered with a matching light. Finally unable to restrain herself, she suddenly lowered her head and took the mischievous, meddling candy between her own teeth.
They say eating candy on the Little New Year is meant to stick the Kitchen God’s mouth shut so he cannot speak ill of the family when he reports their deeds to the Heavens. But this sweetness surged between our lips, sticking us tightly together in a wordless exchange of love that transcended speech. My heart was overflowing with joy; I wanted to keep kissing her like this forever, never to be parted...
We looked at each other and smiled for a while. Then she pulled me into her arms again, her lashes fluttering slowly as she asked in a low, dissatisfied whisper, "What exactly were you looking for? It managed to burn my kitten; I shall have to devour it entirely to make amends."
I gave her a light poke, telling her to let go so I could keep searching. But she was relentless, acting as if she were coated in a thick layer of sugar, sticking to me and refusing to let go. I laughed and scolded her, struggling to turn around in her arms. Thus, the brilliant and formidable Wei-daren became a giant tortoise shell on my back, moving with me from one spot to another...
After rummaging through a few more trays, my patience ran thin, and I became clumsy. Meanwhile, she was content to keep her arms around my waist, bowing her head to sniff and breathe against my neck. Her breath, sometimes light and sometimes heavy, sent shivers of itchiness and warmth through me, and her hands showed signs of becoming restless.
I feigned anger and rebuked her: "If you keep making trouble, I'll carry you on my back and throw you outside!"
She seemed to find this the funniest joke in the world and laughed softly for a long time before saying calmly, "Well then, feel free to try."
I was fuming, but Wei-daren’s martial arts were not something I could easily overcome. If she wanted me to carry her, she was as light as a swan’s feather; if she didn't, she could instantly become as immovable as a stone Buddha in a grotto.
My stubbornness flared up. I turned around to grab her waist, determined to hoist this person up, whether by carrying or piggybacking. I was going to upend her today. As for whether I could actually throw her back onto the bed, that was hard to say—the garden was too big, the path too long, and there were far too many variables...
The two of us leaped and chased each other amidst the pots and pans. Although Wei-daren was clearly holding back, I still couldn't catch her. The rogue even deliberately slowed her footwork, appearing sluggish, yet it was more like dangling a piece of succulent meat before someone’s nose and refusing to let them have a bite...
After four or five laps, I realized I couldn't win by force and decided to use guile. I feigned a slip and lunged forward, heading head-first toward a large stack of steamers. She was indeed startled; even knowing it might be a trap, she couldn't bear to see me get hurt. She instinctively flew forward to save me. I looked up with a smirk, pulled my arms in, and neatly caught her!
I was about to lift her up when, in our haste, both of us inadvertently used our true strength. Her qi, in particular, was so sharp I felt a faint sting on my skin. With a muffled *boom*, the stack of steamers—half as tall as a person—toppled over. Fragrant pastries tumbled all over us—soft, warm, and comforting.
We looked at each other and burst into laughter. After a while, fearing that Auntie Zhong or Muyu would find us and scold us, we forced ourselves to quiet down. With hands clasped and foreheads pressed together, we shook with silent, belly-aching laughter.
Finally, the two pastries that had landed in our laps were revealed: one the size of a palm, shaped like a kitten, and the other like a puppy... It truly was a case of wearing out iron shoes in a fruitless search, only to find it without any effort at all.
"So it was this pair," she said, picking them up tenderly with a smile.
The plump white cat and the plump white dog were pressed together, side by side, in a warm and intimate embrace.
***
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Dreams of the Ancient Mountain: The Cat's Masquerade | Chapter 176 | Sweets for the Kitchen God | Novela.app | Novela.app
