For three consecutive days, Chen Ge’er was confined to Su Shi’s study writing calligraphy, forbidden from causing mischief around the house. The Su Family suddenly became much quieter.
This left Yuan Niang quite distressed. With Chen Ge’er being the only child close to her age in the household, his confinement to the study meant she instantly lost her playmate.
Seeing her bored and idle, Wang Runzhi quickly instructed Chao Yun to bring a box of exquisite pastries and escorted her to the study to watch Chen Ge’er practice his calligraphy.
Chen Ge’er had a crimson headband tied around his forehead. While writing, he occasionally sniffled with frustration. Even when he lifted his head to glance out the window, he would first meet his elder brother’s stern face, which made his heart flutter with fear, causing his hand holding the brush to tremble slightly.
Therefore, when Yuan Niang entered the study carrying the pastry box, he was inwardly cheering with delight. Hooray!
Su Mai had specifically ordered a set of lower tables and chairs to be brought in for Yuan Niang. He genuinely treated her as a child, even thoughtfully drawing a picture book for her with illustrations that children her age could understand. The story was about a little flower spirit searching for her mother.
Yuan Niang was truly curious. Do flowers have mothers?! She picked up a fragrant, soft piece of Osmanthus Cake and carefully examined the book. She wanted to see how Su Mai would explain this.
After enduring storms, bumpy journeys, and being chased by other little monsters, the little flower spirit finally arrived at a place called the Wilderness of Duguang. There, she found a towering giant tree, which turned out to be her mother. Yuan Niang stared wide-eyed in disbelief—they weren’t even the same species! How could they be mother and daughter?
Noticing Yuan Niang’s puzzled expression, Su Mai asked, “Is something confusing you?”
Yuan Niang swallowed the sweet cake in her mouth and whispered, “Elder Brother, are you missing home?”
Su Mai was taken aback and replied gently, “What makes you say that?”
“The Wilderness of Duguang is in the southwest, and your hometown is also in the southwest. These towering mountains resemble the landscapes of Shu,” Yuan Niang speculated. Moreover, Meishan was where Su Mai and Su Yu’s mother was buried, and the picture book’s theme was about a little flower spirit searching for her mother. It was hard for Yuan Niang not to make the connection.
Su Mai chuckled softly. “Yuan Niang, you are indeed clever. This was a book Father drew for Chen Er back when we were in Meishan.”
So that was it! It must have been during the period when the Mai and Yu brothers were observing mourning for their mother and grandfather. Now, just after the Cold Clothing Festival, Su Mai still carried a trace of melancholy between his brows, likely missing his birth mother.
As the two were lost in their thoughts, Chen Ge’er suddenly interjected gloomily, “The monkeys on Mount Emei are really annoying. They even snatch sweet peaches from people.” When he was little, his father had taken him to visit Mount Emei in their hometown to the south.
Su Mai raised an eyebrow. “If you hadn’t teased them, would they have snatched your peaches?”
Chen Ge’er lifted his chin defiantly, exposing his brother without hesitation. “What kind of logic is that? You didn’t tease them, but didn’t one still pee on your head?!”
Yuan Niang giggled beside them. She hadn’t expected the monkeys of Mount Emei to be so unruly even a thousand years ago. Suddenly, she remembered another monkey and quickly asked, “Elder Brother, can you draw monkeys?”
Rarely caught off guard, Su Mai seized the opportunity to change the subject and replied, “Yes, I can.” With that, he picked up his brush and, with a few swift strokes, brought a lively little monkey to life on the paper.
Yuan Niang examined it and said, “Elder Brother, now dress the monkey in armor.”
Su Mai pondered briefly before swiftly completing the drawing—a Song-style armor, though worn beneath clothing, it appeared somewhat lacking in imposing presence.
Yuan Niang shook her head and said, “I want a majestic and domineering chainmail armor, with a phoenix-winged purple-gold crown on the head! And a wish-fulfilling golden-banded staff in hand!”
Su Mai asked curiously, “What is the origin of this monkey dressed like this?”
Since Journey to the West had not yet been written in this era, Yuan Niang thought for a moment and replied, “He is the chief disciple of Master Xuanzang, escorting the master on his westward journey to obtain scriptures. He specializes in fighting monsters!”
“Ah?” Chen Ge’er exclaimed, looking distressed. “Then wouldn’t Little Flower Demon be bullied again?!”
Yuan Niang licked the cake crumbs off her fingers and waved her hand dismissively. “No, this monkey is reasonable. He only fights evil monsters. Little Flower Demon is a good monster, so she won’t be beaten by this monkey.”
“What makes a monster good or bad?” Chen Ge’er asked.
“Good monsters don’t eat Tang Monk’s flesh and don’t harm the common people,” Yuan Niang answered.
“Eh? Why would anyone want to eat Tang Monk’s flesh? Tang Monk is human,” Chen Ge’er inquired curiously.
“Probably because they’re hungry. During the Five Dynasties period, tragedies of exchanging children for food occurred frequently,” Su Mai remarked thoughtfully.
“Eating Tang Monk’s flesh grants immortality! Monsters can’t resist this temptation, so they target Tang Monk,” Yuan Niang explained.
“That sounds like nonsense. Master Xuanzang has been dead for many years,” Chen Ge’er argued earnestly. “There are very few immortals in this world who achieved sainthood in their physical bodies—you can count them on one hand.”
“Uh…” Chen Ge’er’s logic was too sharp, and Yuan Niang couldn’t justify her claim.
“Perhaps ‘Tang Monk’s flesh’ is just a metaphor. There must be something else about Tang Monk that attracts monsters,” Su Shi suggested.
“Big brother is right!” Yuan Niang secretly wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Fortunately, Chen Ge’er didn’t press the issue further. Soon, his attention was drawn to the monkey’s armor and golden-banded staff. He asked eagerly, “Brother, can you get me a set like this?”
“Privately crafting armor is illegal,” Su Mai firmly refused.
“What about this? This staff should be fine, right?” Chen Ge’er persisted, unwilling to give up.
Indeed, throughout history, no boy could resist the allure of the golden-banded staff!
“Focus on practicing your calligraphy first,” Su Mai glanced at him and said, though he himself stared at the drawing of the monkey for a long time, lost in thought.
Chen Ge’er grumbled and dawdled as he continued writing, alternating between asking for tea, snacks, complaining about the heat, or drafts—in short, he couldn’t sit still, as if grass were growing on his bottom.
Su Shi had been away for several days, inspecting the drought situation in several counties in the Wu region and supervising river dredging projects. With the Winter Solstice approaching, the school was on break, and the task of urging Chen Ge’er to practice calligraphy fell to the book boy and Su Mai, though Su Mai was the only one who could keep the little fellow in check.
As dinnertime approached, Su Mai didn’t keep Chen Ge’er confined any longer and allowed him to go out and play with Yuan Niang for a while. After all, he had been too focused on the little one and hadn’t reviewed his own studies.
Upon receiving permission, Chen Ge’er immediately grabbed Yuan Niang’s hand and ran off!
Chen Ge’er ran very fast, while Yuan Niang, with her short arms and legs, struggled to keep up, calling out repeatedly, “Second brother, slow down, slow down!”
Only after they had run quite a distance did Chen Ge’er stop and say, “Forgive me, Yuan Mei, but I truly couldn’t slow down. There’s a ghost in the bamboo grove behind us—it starts wailing at dusk, absolutely terrifying!”
“Ah?” Although Yuan Niang had been a staunch materialist before her transmigration, she’d become somewhat credulous about supernatural matters since arriving here. Hearing Chen Ge’er’s words made her heart pound with fear.
The two children, wearing grave expressions as if facing a formidable enemy, rushed to the kitchen. Seeing everyone wrapping wontons and hearing the crackling fire in the stove, they finally felt somewhat reassured.
Chao Yun looked up and noticed them drenched in sweat from running. She quickly fetched a dry cloth to wipe their faces, chiding gently, “Why such haste? The winter wind is harsh—be careful not to catch a chill.”
Yuan Niang whispered to Chao Yun, “Sister Chao Yun, why does the bamboo grove emit such strange and mournful sounds at dusk? It’s frightening to hear.”
Unexpectedly, Chao Yun burst into laughter upon hearing this, wiping tears of mirth as she said, “Look how scared you are! Truth be told, it’s all our master’s doing. There’s a retainer in our household who fancies himself a poet—unrestrained and fond of singing after a few drinks, but hopelessly tone-deaf.”
“Ah?” Yuan Niang stared blankly. “Sister, are you talking about Master himself?”
“Who’s speaking ill of your master behind his back?” Su Shi stumbled in from outside, reeking of alcohol, and mischievously ruffled Yuan Niang’s neatly tied hair until it resembled a bird’s nest.
“My hair! My hair!” Yuan Niang cried, clutching her head and pretending to flee.
Su Shi held her head firmly, not only preventing her escape but insisting on singing to prove he wasn’t tone-deaf.
As his grating voice filled the air, Chen Ge’er commented earnestly, “Mother! That’s the tune! That’s the very tune! Others get paid for singing—but Father, your singing costs lives.”
Wang Runzhi laughed, “A grown man like you, frightening children! You reek of alcohol just coming in—go wash up. We’ll be dining soon.”
Su Shi smiled contentedly, “How did you find my new composition, my dear?”
“The baby in my womb kicked impatiently after hearing it—what does that tell you?” Wang Runzhi teased.
Su Shi stroked his chin skeptically, “Was it that bad? Chao Yun, what do you think?”
Chao Yun covered her ears nearby, “Ah? What? Sir, I’ve gone deaf!” A moment later, she uncovered them and joked, “If Lord Yang knew you mocked him like this behind his back, who knows what poems he’d write to curse you?”
“Afraid of him?” Su Shi puffed out his chest proudly, “In poetry, he’s no match for me either.”
Soon after, Wang Runzhi firmly nudged him out of the kitchen, citing his clumsiness underfoot.
Chao Yun brought a peachwood comb to redo Yuan Niang’s hair while a servant woman boiled water in the pot, and the cook hurried to drop the wrapped wontons into the bubbling water.
Yuan Niang had long heard that in ancient times, the Winter Solstice was considered more important than the New Year. The Song Dynasty had customs of eating wontons during the Winter Solstice and Bo Tuo during the New Year.
On the eve of the Winter Solstice, wontons were boiled for the evening meal, to be eaten again the following day. Yuan Niang loved this warm, bustling atmosphere—such richly mundane days were most comforting to the soul.
This year, the Su Family prepared assorted wontons with various fillings, making it impossible to guess what flavor the next bite would bring—a delightful surprise indeed.
As they ate, Chen Ge’er began fidgeting restlessly again, shifting in his seat. He muttered in confusion, “Huh? That can’t be right. I clearly saw mustard-filled ones in the kitchen earlier…”
Before he finished speaking, Yuan Niang beside him hastily pinched her nose and coughed violently. An intensely pungent spiciness erupted from her mouth, leaving her in an awkward dilemma—unable to spit it out without being rude, yet struggling to endure the discomfort.
“Ah! So this year’s lucky wonton went to Yuan Mei! Don’t spit it, don’t spit it—swallow it quickly! Since you’re already feeling the burn anyway, eating it makes you the little lucky star!” Chen Ge’er exclaimed enviously nearby. “There was only one mustard-filled wonton made, and Yuan Mei got it—such good fortune!”
Tears welled up in Yuan Niang’s eyes, her rims turning red. She desperately wished she could transfer this “fortune” to Chen Ge’er!
Su Shi promptly asked an attendant for a cup of milk, saying, “Drink this to soothe your throat.”
Yuan Niang complied readily, gulping down half the cup of milk in large swallows before finally feeling somewhat relieved.
This year’s Winter Solstice festival was both intensely pungent and incredibly heartwarming!