With only a few days left until the twenty-eighth, Meng Wan set to work in earnest after Song Tingzhou brought back the red paper; the task of cutting the paper—originally assigned to him—ended up falling to Chang Jinhua instead.
Song Tingzhou was quick at writing the character “福” (fortune) and couplets; three hundred sheets were nothing to him, since he wrote many during his daily classes and studies.
Meng Wan finds drawing much smoother than writing. A few days ago, he first drew about 150 or 160 pieces of the simplest auspicious cloud pattern, including the character “福” (fortune) and couplets. He drew the character “福” around the characters, and drew one couplet at the top and one at the bottom. The paper left over from cutting the “福” characters was just right to be used as the horizontal banner for the couplets.
Then Meng Wan started thinking of other tricks.
With time running out and next year being the Year of the Snake, he drew several drafts before finally settling on a cute chibi-style snake with big eyes, a round head, and a short tail. The snake’s forked tongue was adorable, and its tail curled up into a vertical scroll with the words “Golden Snake Brings Blessings” written by Song Tingzhou.
It received unanimous praise from Chang Jinhua and Song Tingzhou.
”Wan-ge’er actually has this skill. I’ve never seen such a pleasing snake. In previous years, there were also snake paintings sold during the New Year, but those were all snakes, so big, that it would make me uneasy to hang them up during the New Year. This one is good, festive! If I saw it, I would grit my teeth and buy one too.”
Song Tingzhou examined the painting closely. “It’s indeed quite good; it’s worth selling.”
Meng Wan said happily, “We can change the words on it later, such as ‘Snake Brings Good Fortune,’ ‘Year of the Snake Brings Happiness,’ or ‘Snake Embraces Peace.’ How about selling it for eighteen coins?”
Chang Jinhua clicked her tongue, “How much? Eighteen coins for this one? Anyone want to buy it?” She had just said she would buy it, but after hearing the price, she was no longer sure.
Song Tingzhou calmly said, “This price is not expensive, it’s feasible.”
Meng Wan’s eyes lit up. “Wouldn’t it sell for a higher price if we made it more complicated?”
Song Tingzhou reminded him, “The gathering is in two days.”
The more complex the drawing, the more time it takes; it simply cannot be completed in three days.
Meng Wan was not discouraged by this, “Then let’s finish drawing the little snake first, and see how many sheets of paper are left on the last day, and then draw accordingly.”
Chang Jinhua didn’t let him cook for the past few days, and he didn’t have to feed the chickens either. In two days, Meng Wan stayed in the room and drew a hundred little snakes. He even stayed up late to make it a round number, though not very late, but he did have to add oil to the lamp twice.
On the third day, there were still fifty cards left. Meng Wan thought about it again. He was getting tired of drawing snakes. Why not make a doll of the God of Wealth or a baby?
It’s still a simplified version, but the advantage of having studied sketching is that the drawing is more realistic. The God of Wealth is also a chibi-style line drawing, not as solemn as in stereotypes. I drew twenty of them.
The two baby-giving dolls took a little more work; he only drew five of them. They were so cute they looked like real dolls, and each one was holding a banner with a different message: “May a Thousand Gold Bring a Child,” “May a Qilin Bring a Child,” “May Fortune Bring a Child,” “May a Lucky Baby Bring a Child,” and “Congratulations on the Birth of a Precious Child.” Each of the five banners had a different message, and all of them were inscribed by Song Tingzhou.
Chang Jinhua touched the doll in the painting with great affection. Meng Wan said he wanted to give her one, but she scolded him, saying that he was not married yet and his family had this painted on their door. Wouldn’t it be a laughing stock if relatives visited after the New Year?
On the 28th, the family didn’t sleep all night. They made five slabs of tofu overnight. Song Tingzhou tended the fire, and the fires on both stoves never stopped burning. The house was warm and cozy, and bundles of firewood were hauled into the kitchen.
It was still dark when the village chief’s son called out from outside the Song family’s door, “Aunt Song, are you all packed? We’re leaving.”
Chang Jinhua was busy in the kitchen calling out, “Coming, coming, Dazhu, come in quickly and help Auntie carry the tofu.” The village chief was also surnamed Song, and being from the same clan, they were at least somewhat close.
Song Dazhu got off the oxcart and went inside to help carry the tofu. Chang Jinhua’s house was near the village entrance. Song Dazhu drove the oxcart out, and there were already two women on the cart. One was older than Chang Jinhua, and the other was a little younger, in her twenties. Both of them were holding children who were five or six years old. The children were fussing and they couldn’t walk far, so they spent two coins to ride in the oxcart.
The children, who had woken up early, were still sleepy and dozing in their mothers’ arms, while the two women chatted idly.
”Widow Song is really something else now. She used to always have a long face when we met, but ever since she started her business, she greets people with a smile.” The younger woman started the conversation, holding her little ger in her arms.
The older woman scoffed dismissively. “Hmph, call that a business? A widow ought to keep a low profile, yet there she is, opening her doors every day to sell tofu.”
Her words were full of sourness, and even the younger woman next to her couldn’t stand it anymore. It was true that she loved to gossip, but it didn’t mean she would talk about people behind their backs like that, so she shut up.
After Chang Jinhua finished loading her things and got into the car, the younger woman greeted her with a smile and a few words.
Chang Jinhua sat on the edge holding the five-plate tofu, “Deng’er’s wife is also taking the child to the fair? Why didn’t Deng’er go?”
The young woman said apologetically, “He was walking behind me, letting me and my child ride in the car.”
Chang Jinhua’s gaze fell on her sleeping ger. The child was wearing a thick cotton-padded jacket, and his mother had wrapped him in a quilt as well. His little face was rosy from sleeping.
”Deng’er is a good man; he knows how to love his wife and children.”
Some people would sell their children for two bags of grain, while others genuinely care for their children, regardless of gender.
The older man tucked his hands into his sleeves and grimaced. “A boy like this is not worth spoiling. Raising him for a few more years is just a waste of money.”
Song Dazhu climbed onto the cart shaft and saw Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou still cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. He asked Chang Jinhua, “Auntie, aren’t Tingzhou and Wan-ge’er going?”
”They’ll lock the door and walk there in a bit.” Sanquan Village isn’t too far from the town, so those who take the bus are usually people with children or selling things.
As the carriage moved forward, Aunt Song, carrying a basket of eggs, waited at her doorstep.
”Sixth Aunt, please come inside and sit down.”
”Hey, Auntie can take it herself, you go drive, Zhuzi.” Aunt Song Liu sat next to Chang Jinhua, holding the eggs in her arms.
Chang Jinhua asked her, “Didn’t you say you had saved up two baskets of eggs? Why did you only bring one?”
Aunt Song slapped her thigh and said, “Hey, your nephew said that there are no vegetables in the winter during the New Year, so he told us to keep that basket for our own family.”
Chang Jinhua knew perfectly well that Dali was just feeling sorry for Mange’er, who had only been married for a year, and wanted to make sure his wife ate well. It turned out that it wasn’t just her son who was like this.
It was agreed yesterday that Aunt Song would go help Chang Jinhua sell tofu today, while Uncle Song would follow the oxcart behind it, allowing the younger children to wander around freely.
When we arrived in town, everyone got off the carriage. The town has only one main street, running from east to west, and people had already started setting up stalls at the street entrance.
It’s faster to come by oxcart. It’s still early, and there are still places to set up stalls inside. Song Dazhu drove Chang Jinhua inside and found a suitable spot to park. Chang Jinhua moved two wooden stools she had brought from home, placed them apart, and stacked five slabs of tofu on them.
Everyone paid their fares and got off the carriage. Children don’t need to pay, but even so, the older woman was shortchanged by one coin. Since they were all from the same village, Song Dazhu couldn’t very well ask for the money back, so he could only accept it. He thought to himself that there were many people taking the carriage back, so he couldn’t give her a ride.
He drove the oxcart away and said to Chang Jinhua, “Auntie, wait for me at the east street corner to pick up people. If you want to go back to the village, just wait for me there.”
Chang Jinhua replied, “Okay, sure.”
Aunt Song put the eggs down at her feet and stood with Chang Jinhua. “It’s faster to take the carriage. If we walk, we won’t be able to find a good spot in a while.”
She was right. By the time Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou arrived, the street was already packed with people.
Meng Wan was dumbfounded. “The roadside is completely occupied. Where are we going to sell New Year couplets?”
Song Tingzhou stood in front of him, protecting him, and said, “There’s a small alley next to the bookstore that sells ‘Fu’ characters and couplets. Stay close to me; the New Year is approaching, and there might be human traffickers in town.”
Just then, a woman with a child was behind Meng Wan, threatening the child, “If you keep running around, the street pimps will catch you if they see you don’t have an adult with you!”
Meng Wan turned his head and glanced at the stubborn little boy with a face full of “I can’t hear anything, I want to buy candied hawthorns, I want to watch the acrobatics.” He silently tugged at Song Tingzhou’s clothes. He had really been sold before, and he knew how to persuade himself.
Song Tingzhou turned to look at him, feeling regretful that Meng Wan’s half-up bun was still stuck with that piece of wood, and also regretful that his half-down hair had not been fully tied up yet, otherwise he could openly hold his hand instead of being held by his clothes like this.
Scholars may all have this common flaw: what seemed like a trivial matter to Meng Wan was a great loss to Song Tingzhou, who considered it a regret in his life. This led him to continue to hold his husband’s hand wherever he went, even after he rose to the highest position in the court, and was even impeached by the censor for it.
When Meng Wan found out, he secretly cursed the censor for meddling in other people’s business. He was more like a gossipper than the village aunties and uncles. He even interfered when a couple held hands. He thought he might as well go to the village to do a census and then he could argue with all those uncles, aunts and uncles.
Song Tingzhou was deeply moved by his husband’s words. So one year, he took the opportunity to recommend the censor to serve in a local area.
The town is only so big, and there’s only one bookstore, making it the quietest shop at today’s fair, since there are only a handful of scholars in the town.
Meng Wan asked Song Tingzhou, and he learned that Yu Kingdom already had printing technology at this time, but bookstores in remote areas still mainly relied on copying. Only large bookstores with many branches relied on printing technology and used manual copying as a supplement.
This bookstore in town doesn’t even have a name; the signboard at the entrance simply reads “Bookstore,” simple and clear.
There were no waiters in the shop; it was usually run by the owner alone. He knew exactly which villages in the neighborhood had how many scholars there were, so as soon as Song Tingzhou passed by, he greeted him warmly, “It’s Scholar Song! Please come in. And who is this?”
Song Tingzhou said frankly, “Greetings, Mr. Huang. This is my fiancé. We won’t go in; we’re going to sell some of the couplets we wrote ourselves in the alley next door.”
Introducing him as a cousin in this setting would be a bit inappropriate. What respectable person would take a cousin who is close to their age to a market?
”Then you should hurry up and go, there are quite a few people here today.” Boss Huang was very amiable, and he wasn’t annoyed that people didn’t come in to buy anything.
Meng Wan followed behind Song Tingzhou, pondered for a couple of seconds, and then pulled a picture of the God of Wealth from Song Tingzhou’s basket. “These are all my own paintings, not worth much money. I hope Mr. Huang’s business will prosper next year.”
Mr. Huang hadn’t expected that a simple greeting would lead to Song Shusheng’s fiancé offering a painting, so he quickly declined, saying, “I can’t accept something you’re selling for money. This won’t do.”
Meng Wan smiled and said, “Please accept it. Hanging it in the store might even help us promote our business.”
”Well… then I’ll shamelessly stay.”
Mr. Huang was truly amazed. He had lived in the small town for over forty years and had even visited the county seat and the prefectural city, but he had never encountered a young man who spoke so eloquently, not to mention his good looks.
Both of his sons are tall and strong. The older son is already a father, but sometimes he hesitates when asked a question. He’s really not as outspoken as a young ger.
The bookstore is located near the west side of the town. There is a small alley next to the store, which is usually not frequented by many people. Today, the main street was so crowded that vendors with no room to set up stalls or individuals who wanted to sell some odds and ends were all in the various alleys.
The alley next to the bookstore mainly sells New Year couplets, and the character “福” (good fortune). There are fewer people setting up stalls than selling food and beverages; there are only four stalls, one of which is the old scholar from Hongmiao Village.
He sells these things year-round, and his stall has more than others, with seven or eight rolls, each roll containing more than a hundred sheets.
Meng Wan found a spot. “Shall we sit here?”
Song Tingzhou naturally listened to him, unloaded the basket, and took out the items one by one.
Meng Wan first laid a layer of coarse cloth on the ground, which was leftover from Chang Jinhua making clothes for him. The clean apricot-yellow cloth stood out against the gray and dirty linen cloth laid by the people next to him.
“Young man, you really don’t know how to manage your money. Isn’t it a waste to use such good cloth as a mat?” An old man next to their stall came up and started lecturing them.
The stall owners nearby didn’t say a word; they were all there to make a few extra coins at the fair, and nobody had the time to meddle in other people’s business.
Meng Wan smiled and said, “Grandpa, when you’re selling things, not only do the items have to be good, but they also have to be displayed beautifully so that people want to buy them at first glance.” Otherwise, how can you arouse people’s desire to buy?
He stood there and glanced around. The items sold at the four stalls were basically the same: square red paper with a black “福” (good fortune) character in the center. Apart from the different calligraphy styles of the people writing the characters, the designs were all so simple.
The same applies to couplets; their appeal lies in the brushstrokes.
Meng Wan thought to himself, “It should be a sure thing.” Others might not know, but the old scholar across the street made his living from this. He had prepared so much; it should sell well.
After unfolding the “Fu” character and the New Year picture, Song Tingzhou took out a small wooden stool from the bottom of his basket.
Meng Wan asked in surprise, “When did you put this in? Why didn’t you let me carry it on the way? It’s so heavy.”
The small wooden stool, which he had nailed himself, was quite heavy, with a thick seat and legs. Song Tingzhou even carried it all the way to town.
Song Tingzhou placed the small wooden stool on the ground. “It’s not heavy, you can sit here.”
Meng Wan could only sit down. “We’ll take turns sitting later.”
The group of old men selling “Fu” characters all brought their own cushions, which they made from rags at home. Only he made a small stool; he was good-looking and looked well-behaved.
The woman in the alley who wanted to buy a “Fu” character immediately spotted the stall set up by the two young men.
She took a few steps closer and looked at the “Fu” (good fortune) character on their stall with even more curiosity. “Wow, is that a painted cloud? It’s quite pretty. What about this one?”