What did it mean to celebrate the new year? For a whole year, commoners laboured and toiled, reluctant to eat and wear their best. They yearned for the heavens to spare them a bit of food, yearned for the world to be peaceful in the coming year, yearned for the whole family, old and young, to return and reunite--living was not easy, and as they yearned, it wasn’t as though they did not feel forlorn. It was just that after thousands of years of such a way of life, this bit of forlornness had sunken and settled deep into their bones, and was no longer as easily apparent.

Only on New Year’s day, could they let themselves wholly indulge at once--they would hang a few crackling firecrackers to stir up a bustle, and take out all the foodstuffs that they were usually reluctant to devour in order to properly reward themselves.

Even if they had to tighten their belts immediately following the arrival of spring. All year round, they looked forward to this brief chance at indulgence; even if they were utterly penniless, as long as there was still a family, this New Year’s Eve[8] had to be celebrated.

Valley Master Wen had never thought that the day where he had to personally cook the New Year’s Eve dinner would come during his lifetime. Zhang Chengling used to be a young master, and even though he strongly wished to exhibit his filial piety, he was unfortunately clumsy, and was unable to fulfill these duties even as he wished to. As for Zhou Zishu--he used to be a lord, and still continued loafing around like one now.

Wen Kexing felt that this event was worth commemoration, and so invested great effort in this, scurrying to and fro busily. First of all, he pointed at Zhang Chengling and instructed, “Little tyke, go slaughter the chicken.”

Freezing, Zhang Chengling looked at the chicken clucking wildly off to the side, then pointed at himself and asked, “Senior, me? ...Slaughter...it?”

Humoured, Wen Kexing said, “Can it slaughter you? Hurry, the chicken has to go on the stove early, the taste will only sink in after a long simmer.”

Nervously, Zhang Chengling picked up the knife, and tiptoed over. Summoning his courage, he raised his arms, clenched his teeth as he closed his eyes, and swung the knife down. That chicken hopped to the side, wings flapping, and avoided the blow. It straightened its neck and shrieked once, like it had the intention to battle him to the death.