On New Year’s Eve, after the ancestral worship ceremony.
The whole family gathered to observe the New Year’s vigil. Su Shi, brimming with enthusiasm, engaged in poetic exchanges with Su Mai, while Wang Runzhi led the rest of the family in sitting around the stove, untying the Baishiji Knots. The table was laden with various delicacies: preserved fruits, dried fruits, fresh fruits, candies, pastries, cooked dishes, and assorted snacks.
Yuan Niang and Chen Ge’er sat by the table sharing candies. Seeing their father and brother immersed in poetry, Chen Ge’er grabbed his Little Rabbit Orange Lantern, took Yuan Niang’s hand, and dashed off, afraid of being caught!
Shu Ji reached out to call them back, but Wang Runzhi chuckled, “Let them be mischievous. No doubt they’re off to set off firecrackers in the courtyard. Shu Ji, next year you can join your elder siblings in their fun.”
Shu Ji blinked and responded with an expectant “Mm-hmm.”
Ren Momo, feeling uneasy, followed them out to admonish, “Play only in the Bamboo Pavilion courtyard, don’t go to the main gate. There are Night Howlers about tonight—best not run into them. And avoid the east wing; Liu Lang is still young, don’t startle him.”
Chen Ge’er nodded and replied like a little adult, “Don’t worry, Momo, I know my limits!”
Ren Momo adjusted Yuan Niang’s collar, tightened her furry neck wrap, and made sure no cold air could seep in before giving her a gentle pat. She then instructed the two page boys, Yan Qing and Yan Qiu, to accompany them before finally allowing them to leave.
Chen Ge’er whispered to Yuan Niang, “After we finish setting off the firecrackers, we can go back and ask for Suinian Money.”
Yuan Niang thought of her Celadon Piggy Bank and immediately felt delighted.
The Golden Lion Cub trotted closely at Yuan Niang’s feet, its little legs moving so fast that one might accidentally trip over it. Yuan Niang sighed softly: This little thing is sticking so close now, but it’ll surely dart back into the hall in fright later.
Once Yan Qiu selected a spot, Chen Ge’er used the candle from his Little Rabbit Orange Lantern to light an incense stick, using it to ignite the firecracker fuses for safety.
Yuan Niang glanced around, then picked up the Golden Lion Cub and hid.
Chen Ge’er wouldn’t allow it, insisting she watch his heroic display and even offering to teach her how to set them off.
Poor Yuan Niang had never set off firecrackers since childhood and was terrified of the noise. Watching from a distance was fine, but actually lighting them was absolutely out of the question—she didn’t dare.
Chen Ge’er talked big, but when it came time to light the fuse, he scurried away in a flash, afraid of getting hit, both timid and eager to play.
Yuan Niang watched amusedly, covering the Golden Lion Cub’s ears as she did. The once lively puppy now trembled in her arms, not daring to move.
Seeing Yuan Niang merely observing from the sidelines and missing out on the fun of setting off firecrackers, Chen Ge’er ordered Yan Qing to fetch some Snap Pops and Sparkler Firecrackers from the storeroom.
Chen Ge’er patiently taught Yuan Niang how to play with them: Snap Pops only needed to be thrown on the ground—no ignition required, and they wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sparkler Firecrackers, though requiring ignition and crackling as they burned, produced minimal noise and weren’t frightening at all.
Boys usually found these too tame and avoided them, so they were specially kept for the timid Yuan Niang.
These items remained popular during New Year celebrations in later generations, especially beloved by young children. Yuan Niang’s mother would buy her a box of Di Di Jin every New Year, which shared similarities with these Sparkler Firecrackers.
Chen Ge’er lit a Sparkler Firecracker and handed it to Yuan Niang, saying, “Don’t be afraid, it’s really fun.”
Yuan Niang widened her eyes, watching the endless stream of sparks bursting forth, her mood warming along with these fiery blossoms.
Golden Lion Cub stared in disbelief as Yuan Niang “betrayed” him, letting out an indignant yelp before leaping from her arms in a frantic attempt to escape, yet finding no clear path through the commotion.
Chen Ge’er, ever the mischievous one, chased Golden Lion Cub around the courtyard with another bundle of sparkler firecrackers, his laughter echoing through every corner of the Bamboo Pavilion.
From inside the house, Ren Momo remarked contentedly, “It truly takes a house full of children to feel this lively.”
Everyone wholeheartedly agreed.
By the time the third watch drum had sounded, Yuan Niang and Chen Ge’er had exhausted themselves from running and bounded back into the main hall, their clothes carrying the distinct scent of firecrackers.
After Fu Shuang helped Yuan Niang change into fresh garments, they returned to find the fruit platters on the Eight Immortals Table already cleared away, replaced by steaming dishes for the New Year’s Eve feast.
The Su Family maintained a simple and frugal household, avoiding extravagant displays—a fact evident even in their New Year’s feast. Though lacking delicacies like shark fin or bear paw, each dish was prepared with meticulous care.
An ample spread of pork, lamb, fish, and vegetables covered the table, yet none stood out as prominently as the Bo Tuo. This humble dish was accompanied by not one, but three bowls of broth—a rare sight indeed.
Initially puzzled, Yuan Niang soon realized this was one of the offerings from the ancestral altar, symbolizing the addition of blessings and longevity to those who partook.
Originally boiled plain in water, it had been tasteless until paired with savory broths to suit human palates.
Yuan Niang had heard of the custom “Winter Solstice Wonton, New Year Bo Tuo,” and had once wondered why Bo Tuo was eaten during the New Year instead of its close cousin, noodles.
It wasn’t until the Bo Tuo was served that she finally understood: the dough was stretched paper-thin. After being offered to ancestors, it was simply draped in broth and slurped down like noodle soup. Noodles, if treated this way, would clump into a sticky, breakable mess—impossible to separate and utterly unpalatable.
Of course, these were merely Yuan Niang’s private musings.
Beside her, Chen Ge’er pinched his nose and downed his Bo Tuo in one go, just as Chao Yun brought forth the Tusu Wine.
Yuan Niang was thrilled! This wine had nearly vanished in later eras. Most people only knew of it through Wang Anshi’s verse: “Amid the boom of firecrackers, a year departs; / Spring breezes warm, Tusu Wine imparts.” Few ever had the chance to taste it.
Yuan Niang once had a friend deeply passionate about brewing. Ordinary grape wine and beer no longer satisfied her, so she sought inspiration from ancient recipes—even renting a large plot in the suburbs to build a traditional brewery. She planted acres of apricot trees nearby, since ancient fermenting starters often used apricot kernels, and renowned brewing sites were typically surrounded by apricot groves.
This well-funded enthusiast took her hobby to the extreme. She spent over a month in her workshop perfecting Tusu Wine, experimenting as she went. On the day she succeeded, she also succeeded in landing herself in the hospital.
Food poisoning!
That day, she had invited friends to sample her creation but couldn’t resist trying a small cup first. When her friends arrived, they found her dizzy, vomiting, and barely conscious—a little later, and they might have been attending her funeral.
Afterward, Yuan Niang asked her how the Tusu Wine had tasted.
Her friend shook her head in silence. From that day on, no one dared to sample her brews ever again.
As Yuan Niang gazed at the Tusu Wine, thoughts of distant friends stirred feelings of homesickness within her.
The tradition of drinking Tusu Wine began with the youngest. The wet nurse brought over Xiao Liu Lang, who had just reached one month old—far too young to actually drink wine. She merely dipped her chopsticks into the Tusu Wine and dabbed a drop on Liu Lang’s cheek. Next, Shu Ji raised his cup and drank, followed by Yuan Niang.
She eagerly lifted her cup and downed it in one gulp!
Cough! Cough!! Cough!!! Help!!! A pungent, throat-scorching spiciness surged through her mouth. Upon closer taste, she detected a strong herbal medicine flavor!! Followed by an unmistakable bitterness—overwhelmingly potent!
Yuan Niang patted her chest and sighed inwardly: Who on earth actually enjoys drinking such bizarre wine?
Chen Ge’er patted her back and said, “Don’t spit it out, don’t spit it out! This is Plague Averting Wine. They say drinking it brings good fortune.”
Yuan Niang felt like crying but had no tears, her eyes reddening. If she ever had the chance to meet her wine-brewing friend again, she would definitely advise them: Some wines become extinct for a reason. Let’s spare each other—even if you manage to brew it, you might not actually enjoy drinking it. Not only might you dislike it, but it could even make you question your life choices!
Yuan Niang stuffed several mouthfuls of food into her mouth before finally suppressing the strange taste of the Tusu Wine. Seeing she was fine, Chen Ge’er turned away, grimaced, and drank his own cup of Tusu Wine.
Yuan Niang looked around carefully—the entire family was forcing themselves to drink it with great effort. When it was Su Shi’s turn, he frowned and said, “Shall I compose a poem first?”
Everyone laughed, “Even if you compose eight more poems, this cup of wine is still yours. Drink up, drink up!”
With no further excuses, he threw his head back and drank it. His face instantly flushed red, clearly struggling to endure it.
Yuan Niang promptly picked up some winter bamboo shoots for him. Su Shi quickly ate them, patted her head, and said, “You’re very thoughtful.”
He paused, then added, “The first person who brewed Tusu Wine truly deserves to be Du Lang’s neighbor.”
Everyone laughed, wholeheartedly agreeing.
After the New Year’s Eve dinner came the children’s favorite moment. Chen Ge’er clamored to pay New Year’s greetings to the elders to receive Suinian Money, creating another lively scene.
As dawn broke, Yuan Niang held a pouch of Suinian Money engraved with phrases like “Qianqiu Wansui” and “Chuxiong Quyang.” This money couldn’t be spent—each person received a number of coins matching their age.
There were also several strings of Yasui Money, each consisting of 120 coins, woven into the shape of Zhong Kui and hung at the foot of the bed. This money could be spent.
Yuan Niang symbolically hung one at the foot of her bed. The rest, she unwound and placed into her piggy bank. Although she had chosen the chubbiest piggy bank in the shop, it was now completely full. Ah, what a sweet dilemma! She sighed as she looked at the remaining Yasui Money that wouldn’t fit.
She couldn’t help but think of that Mystic-Rank Wish List and quickly exchanged it for an additional cubic foot of storage space. The storage space, originally only the size of a piggy bank, instantly expanded several times over. Yuan Niang quietly moved most of her money into her portable space, leaving only a small amount in the little porcelain pig.
A few days later, Chen Ge’er came to play with her. He picked up her little porcelain pig, shook it back and forth, and wondered, “Is this some kind of magical artifact? How come it never fills up no matter how much you put in?”
No, it’s not a magical artifact—just an ordinary little porcelain pig. Back when she first dropped coins into it by chance, she had accidentally activated the Taotie System’s storage function. Later, Yuan Niang tested it and found that it really was just an ordinary porcelain pig with no other magical abilities.
But when she heard Chen Ge’er ask this, she deliberately smiled mysteriously and said, “You’re right, this is a magical vessel—it only eats and never spits out, no matter how much you feed it.”
Chen Ge’er took her words at face value. He turned back to his room, fetched his Yasui Money, and dropped it coin by coin into the piggy bank until the little pig’s belly was stuffed full, with no room left for more. Chen Ge’er then held the small porcelain pig upside down and shook it, but indeed, not a single copper coin fell out.
After pondering for a moment, Chen Ge’er clapped his hands and laughed, “Truly secure!”
“Aren’t you going to keep it?” Yuan Niang asked, lifting her eyes.
“Leaving it with you for safekeeping is just the same,” Chen Ge’er replied, patting his chest. “A true man doesn’t care where his Yasui Money is stored!”
His tone was remarkably carefree, a stark contrast to the little boy who had once guarded his Yasui Money with fierce, red-eyed determination.
Only then did Yuan Niang realize he had intentionally given the money to her.