Night fell.
The dishes were ready, and the table was laden with a lavish feast.
Mu Ge-sheng wasn’t particular about etiquette or formalities. He had already been happily eating all afternoon, and had told everyone beforehand that they could simply come to the table whenever they got hungry. Wu Bi-you seemed to have come specifically to mooch this meal. The moment the table was set, he had already picked up his chopsticks. And he wasn’t the only one—the yellow ox was also eating with great gusto. The two of them devoured the food in a whirlwind, even glaring at each other over a piece of cherry pork.
The delicious aromas had been wafting through the courtyard all afternoon, and Anping was practically itching to dig in. But before he could even pick up his chopsticks, Mu Ge-sheng called him into the kitchen.
“Happy New Year!”
The other man smiled at him and held out a red envelope.
Anping was a little surprised. He opened his mouth, but for a moment, he couldn’t find the words.
Mu Ge-sheng placed the red envelope in his hand.
“It’s only natural for children to receive New Year’s money during the New Year. You encountered quite a few evil spirits last year, so you need a little extra protection against them.”
Inside the red envelope was a bank card, with the words Bank of Heaven and Earth printed on its face.
“The Ghost Market will open in a while. You can go have a look around with my daughter.” Mu Ge-sheng said, “You know the rules of the Ghost Market, right? You can swipe it freely at any stall except those with blue lanterns.”
This was the first time Anping had ever received such a New Year’s gift. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But Mu Ge-sheng was rarely so generous. Just as Anping was about to say some festive words of thanks, Chai Shu-xin spoke from beside them.
“Just take it.”
He was steaming a pot of food. In the warm glow of the lights and rising steam, his features looked a little gentler.
“He’s just borrowing someone else’s generosity to play the benefactor.”
Mu Ge-sheng immediately argued back with great conviction, “I’d call that the virtue of a respected elder!”
Whether he was virtuous or not was another matter. This shameless old charlatan, who had spent the entire year behaving in anything but an elder-like manner, had finally managed to look a little like a senior.
Mu Ge-sheng used a guokui flatbread to pick up a piece of steamed pork and handed it to Anping.
“Have a bite to tide you over. Those two starving ghosts out there might be impossible for you to beat to the food, Anping.”
The guokui had just come out of the oven. It was crispy with salt and pepper, with a lingering savory flavor. Anping licked his lips as he walked out of the kitchen. Back then, in his dreams, he could see all that food but never taste it. Day after day, he had stood outside the kitchen staring at it helplessly. Now, at last, the New Year’s Eve feast he had been waiting for had finally arrived.
The little kitchen at Ginkgo Academy could practically have qualified as half a culinary school. Almost everyone who had ever cooked there had been good at it—with the exception of Mu Ge-sheng.
Anping looked at the dishes covering the table. Compared with Song Wen-tong’s heavy, oily, spicy cooking, Chai Shu-xin’s food was clearly lighter and healthier. There were four or five different kinds of double-boiled soups alone. In front of Anping was a dish of honey-glazed ham, with a large piece of dried scallop underneath. The ham was tender and falling apart, and a handful of pine nuts had been sprinkled over the soy-colored sauce. The dish beside it seemed to be shrimp braised with scallions, but only the sauce remained.
He wasn’t sure what Wu Bi-you liked to eat, but he noticed that there were quite a few more sweet dishes on the table. As far as he remembered, Mu Ge-sheng wasn’t picky about food. Could it be that Chai Shu-xin had a sweet tooth?
“What are you standing there for? Are you eating or not?” Wu Bi-you pointed at the plate of bayberry glutinous rice balls in front of Anping. “If you’re not eating, I’ll take it.”
Anping came back to his senses and hurriedly reached for his chopsticks.
The entire room was filled with rising warmth and steam. It was just like those nights years ago, drinking beneath the lamplight—a gathering filled with the familiar warmth of old friends reunited.
By the time the meal was over, it was already the middle of the night. Mu Ge-sheng had somehow managed to rig up some electrical wiring, and several people gathered in the courtyard to watch television.
It seemed to be the Spring Festival Gala. Anping looked at the official on the screen, who was wearing a red-topped hat.
“Who’s that?”
“He seems to have been a Westernization official when he was alive.” Wu Bi-you sat a good eight feet away from Mu Ge-sheng, his head down as he played a game. “This is Fengdu TV.”
Anping was taken aback when he heard that, then sneezed.
“Aren’t you cold?” He turned to Mu Ge-sheng. “Half-Immortal, can’t we go inside and watch?”
“The signal’s bad indoors.” Mu Ge-sheng cracked sunflower seeds. “It’s fine. It’ll warm up soon.”
“What do you mean?”
Anping didn’t understand, but everyone else was busy doing their own thing, and no one paid him any attention.
The yellow ox was helping Chai Shu-xin wrap dumplings in the kitchen. He poked his head out through the window.
“Young Master An, want to come inside and warm up for a while?”
Anping couldn’t stand watching the chaos on the television anymore, so he went to help in the kitchen. Come to think of it, Chai Shu-xin hadn’t seemed to leave the kitchen at all since returning.
“Spirit Pivot Zi,” Anping said as he washed his hands. “Won’t you have something to eat?”
Chai Shu-xin paused in his movements. “It’s fine.”
The yellow ox laughed heartily and patted him on the shoulder. “In this courtyard, apart from you and Wuchang Zi, it doesn’t really matter whether anyone else eats or not. The main thing is that Tian Suan Zi has a big appetite. Just wait. There’ll be three more meals tonight.”
Anping was dumbfounded. Three more meals?
But looking at the pots and pans filling the kitchen, it really didn’t seem like they would be closing up anytime soon. Chai Shu-xin dry-roasted Sichuan peppercorns in a wok, using a spatula to stir them around. Their fragrance burst into the air. There were three large bowls of filling alone. Anping recognized the Chinese celery and yellow chives.
“What’s in this bowl?”
“Water chestnuts and corn. A sweet filling,” the yellow ox replied. “There’s also a bowl of brown sugar dumpling filling coming later.”
Brown sugar dumplings? Anping had never heard of such a thing. They sounded like some kind of dark cuisine invented by Mu Ge-sheng himself. He hesitated before asking, “Sweet filling in dumplings? Does that even taste good?”
“Everyone has their own tastes, just like radishes and greens.” The yellow ox smiled. “There are plenty of people with a sweet tooth.”
A little while later, the dumplings went into the pot. A burst of drumming came from the courtyard, and Anping looked toward the sound.
“What are they showing on TV?”
“The Five-Direction Lion Dance,” Mu Ge-sheng replied. “It’s a kind of dance music from the Tang Dynasty. It was almost lost, but after the founding of the country, Fengdu’s Publicity Department made some video recordings. It’s very popular at the Ghost Market now. They’ve even made versions for aerobics and square dancing.”
There were so many things to question that Anping didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t help wondering what the Ghost Market in Fengdu was like nowadays. Did ghosts really need to do aerobics? Were all sorts of demons and monsters bouncing around, singing, Burn My Calories?
Now that would truly be a gathering of demons and monsters.
Someone knocked on the window. Wu Bi-you poked his head in.
“Pack me some food. Hurry up! Damn it, I’m about to die again.”
Wu Bi-you’s gaming skills really weren’t very good. He was either about to die or already on his way to dying. Anping glanced at his screen and confirmed that there was no saving him.
“Can’t you come in and get it yourself?”
“Rakshasa Zi is in there. I’m not going in.”
Anping found that strange. “Are you really that afraid of him?”
Wu Bi-you had all his attention on the game, so he answered without thinking.
“Try fighting him yourself and see… Fuck!”
Someone shot him in the head. He nearly threw his phone away. Seeing that the young man was about to explode on the spot again, Anping hurriedly pulled out his own phone.
“How about this? I’ll play a round with you.”
“Forget it.” Wu Bi-you shook his head instead. “Are you free on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month?”
“Why?”
“Didn’t that old bastard give you New Year’s money?” Wu Bi-you said. “The Ghost Market opens on the fifteenth. I’ll take you clubbing.”
Anping suspected he had misheard. “What did you say?”
“Clubbing.” Wu Bi-you clicked his tongue. “If you don’t want to go, forget it. If I don’t take you, a minor like you won’t even be allowed in.”
Anping: “…I’m an adult, thank you very much.”
“Tch. Then I guess you won’t be growing any taller.”
Anping had no idea how much resentment Wu Bi-you had toward his own height. The young man wasn’t even short. Perhaps it was because Mu Ge-sheng constantly poisoned him with remarks about it that he seemed like someone with a severe milk addiction. Wu Zi-xu wasn’t short, either. Given his genes, as long as Wu Bi-you’s future wife wasn’t a Thumbelina, there was no doubt he’d eventually grow past 180 centimeters.
Then Anping remembered that this child seemed to have only graduated from kindergarten. He really wouldn’t know anything about genetics.
Anping served Wu Bi-you a plate of candied taro. Wu Bi-you looked at it with disdain.
“Why do you like such girly sweet stuff?”
“I thought you liked it.” Anping took a bite. “I noticed that quite a few of the dishes Spirit Pivot Zi made tonight were sweet.”
He might have complained, but he still ate. Wu Bi-you took the plate and mumbled indistinctly, “That old bastard isn’t picky about food. He’s got a sweet tooth, too.”
Anping noticed his choice of words. “Too?”
“You didn’t know?”
Wu Bi-you suddenly realized something, then put on an expression that suggested he was looking forward to a good show.
“Who else did you think was going to finish all that food in the kitchen? Were they going to feed the pigs?”
Anping thought about the two people who had been devouring everything at the table earlier and decided it was probably best not to nitpick this brat’s wording.
Wu Bi-you told him some strange and amusing stories about the Ghost Market in Fengdu. While the two were chatting, the dumplings were ready, and at the same time, someone knocked on the gate.
“He’s got good timing.” Wu Bi-you raised an eyebrow. “Every year, he manages to show up just in time for the first batch of dumplings.”
Mu Ge-sheng was so engrossed in the television that he was oblivious to everything around him. Chai Shu-xin and the yellow ox were busy carrying out the dumplings. In the end, Wu Bi-you had to shove Anping toward the door to answer it.
The moment Anping opened the door, a burst of colorful confetti exploded with a bang, covering his head and face.
A voice rang out amid laughter.
“Happy New Year! Happy New Year! May your wealth pour in! Wishing you prosperity!”
Standing outside was an exceptionally beautiful young woman. She had red lips, a slender waist, and a pair of long legs revealed beneath her short skirt. One high heel was planted on the threshold, and she was almost a head taller than Anping.
“You’re Anping, right?”
She slung an arm around him like they were old buddies. Her speech carried a slight Beijing accent.
“Not bad-looking, bro!”
“Why the fuck are you wearing high heels again?” Wu Bi-you looked up at her. “Damn, you even dyed your hair pink?”
“The pinker the hair, the harder the punches. I’m a champion now. I’ll take you along to steal kills and rank up sometime.”
The woman fished a red envelope out of her pocket.
“New Year’s money. Take it, bro.”
Then she turned to Anping.
“I came in a hurry this time, so I didn’t prepare a proper welcome gift. I’ll take you clubbing at the Ghost Market next time.”
This woman was unbelievably trendy. She spoke with such lively enthusiasm, carrying an indescribable air of carefree elegance. Although she was a head taller than him, Anping couldn’t help feeling a little flutter in his heart.
“Pleased to meet you. May I ask what I should call you?”
Wu Bi-you looked at him strangely, seemingly holding back laughter.
“That old bastard really hasn’t told him anything.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine! Meeting each other is fate. We’re all good buddies.” The woman slapped Anping on the shoulder in a carefree manner. “I’m starving. Has my brother finished cooking?”
As she spoke, the kitchen door swung wide open. The yellow ox came out carrying a plate.
“Tian Suan Zi, do us the honor of making some room!”
“Dinner’s ready!”
A round table had been set up in the courtyard, with red lanterns hanging high overhead. Anping noticed something strange: the air around them was no longer cold.
He quietly turned things over in his mind. That young woman had given Wu Bi-you a red envelope earlier. Perhaps she was an elder of some sort. But then Mu Ge-sheng spoke up.
“Same as always. Pay your New Year’s respects, and you’ll get a red envelope.”
“Got it.” The woman snapped her fingers. “Which section would you like to hear this year?”
“You’ve worked hard tonight.” Mu Ge-sheng looked at Chai Shu-xin and joked, “Our esteemed chef deserves the honor of choosing. What would you like to hear?”
Chai Shu-xin took a sip of tea. “Whatever you like.”
“Then we’ll stick with The Romance of the Western Chamber.” Mu Ge-sheng picked up his chopsticks and tapped them against his cup. “Give us a bit of Hongniang.”
Without missing a beat, the woman flicked a napkin and began, her eyes dancing with expression.
“Ah, Miss! How graceful and lovely you are—”
With a turn of her long, drawn-out note, she looked toward Chai Shu-xin.
“Ah, Scholar Zhang! How refined and talented you are—”
“There’s no need to spend a fortune for romance,
The moon shifts, and shadows of flowers fall,
A beauty comes beneath the jade-like moonlight,
Tonight, the debt of longing shall be repaid,
As two lovers fulfill their hearts’ desires…”
Every expression in this woman’s eyes and at the corners of her brows was theatrical. Anping couldn’t help laughing. Even Wu Bi-you burst out laughing, while the yellow ox choked and coughed.
“Oh, heavens! Star Lodge Zi, hurry up and get yourself married! Stop causing trouble for the world here!”
Anping was still laughing. But after a couple of chuckles, he suddenly froze.
Wait. What had the yellow ox just called her?
Star Lodge Zi?
?!?! 
Anping turned to stone. Mu Ge-sheng seemed to have been waiting for this exact moment. The courtyard immediately rang with his and Wu Bi-you’s utterly unrestrained laughter.
“Old Five was raised by Old Two.” Mu Ge-sheng laughed so hard he had to cough. “Old Two spent his childhood hanging around Guanshan Yue, growing up surrounded by women and cosmetics. Those two are exactly alike.”
Anping already knew Song Wen-tong’s background, but he was still stunned for quite some time. A face like a hibiscus, a waist like a willow, beautiful as a flower and handsome as the moon, with eyes so flirtatious they could kill—so the woman everyone’s favorite had raised had turned into a cross-dressing master?
Had he learned that from the Cheng family?
All the dishes on the table suddenly made sense. Zhu Yin-xiao was practically drowning in a vat of sugar, dipping the brown sugar dumplings in honey. Anping’s teeth hurt just watching him. No wonder the air around them had grown warm. He was a descendant of the Vermilion Bird, with fire as his dominant element in the Five Phases. Even the lanterns seemed to glow brighter, and warmth filled the entire courtyard.
Zhu Yin-xiao accepted Mu Ge-sheng’s red envelope with a beaming smile.
“Thank you kindly!”
Then he turned to Anping.
“Sorry about that, bro. I’ll treat you to a drink next time.”
He had a foundation in traditional opera, and earlier he had kept speaking to Anping in a stylized, high-pitched voice, lively and charming. Now that he spoke in his natural voice, it carried a slight huskiness and an indescribable air of carefree elegance.
A beauty’s true charm lies in her bones; like a blazing fire, she was dazzling and intense.
In Anping’s memories, Zhu Yin-xiao was still that multicolored feather duster of a chicken, crawling all over the vegetable garden while Mu Ge-sheng teased him. Anping stared at the beautiful young woman—or rather, young man—in front of him for a long time, but couldn’t find even the slightest trace of that former appearance.
Time really was a blade that could turn a chicken into something unrecognizable.
Zhu Yin-xiao seemed to come every year to offer New Year’s greetings. He chatted animatedly with Mu Ge-sheng, exchanging all sorts of family gossip and laughing loudly together. Even Chai Shu-xin seemed very close to him, his expression carrying a hint of concern.
Anping remembered that the master of Ginkgo Academy had been fond of Kunqu opera. Performing a few pieces during the New Year had been a tradition at the academy. The year Chai Shu-xin had first stayed at Ginkgo Academy for the New Year, Mu Ge-sheng had also performed a section from The Romance of the Western Chamber.
An old tune from some unknown dynasty played on the television. Mu Ge-sheng and Zhu Yin-xiao began competing over drinks, moving from the table all the way up to the roof as they drank. Chai Shu-xin opened the main gate, and the street outside was filled with moving silhouettes.
The streets had been very quiet just after nightfall on New Year’s Eve. Everyone had gathered at home for their reunion dinner. But as midnight approached, people who had eaten and drunk their fill began coming out of their houses and onto the streets, chatting and talking nonsense in their drunkenness. There was no moon on New Year’s Eve, but the entire city was ablaze with light.
The yellow ox carried a huge pot out of the kitchen and set it down at the entrance to the City God Temple. He began serving New Year’s blessing porridge. The glutinous rice was mixed with longan, lotus seeds, candied dates, and red beans. Children carrying lanterns gathered around the pot, their little round faces glowing rosy and cheerful.
The line of people waiting for porridge on the steps grew longer and longer. Wu Bi-you tossed a ladle to Anping.
“Come over and help.”
Although the City God Temple had fallen into neglect, the blessing porridge served there every New Year’s Eve was always popular. People loved coming here to receive a little good fortune for the coming year. When Anping was little, he used to spend New Year’s Eve with his parents. His mother would sometimes be halfway through a mahjong game, but as soon as she saw that midnight was approaching, she’d make a special trip by car to collect some porridge.
Back then, he hadn’t understood the meaning behind that bowl of porridge. He only remembered that it had snowed that night, and the air had been filled with the fragrance of candied dates.
The pot of porridge was emptied in no time. Anping and Wu Bi-you carried the huge pot back into the kitchen. Suddenly, Wu Bi-you asked him, “Do you know about Ginkgo Academy?”
“What’s wrong?”
“When my father was still alive, I heard him say that Ginkgo Academy had been built inside a temple. Every New Year, the monks would distribute blessing porridge. At midnight, the most revered abbot in the temple would ring the bell and pray for blessings. People would sit on the long flight of steps, drinking porridge while listening to the bell.”
Anping thought to himself, I know. I saw it with my own eyes.
That year’s blessing porridge had been made according to a medicinal recipe prepared by Chai Shu-xin, while Song Wen-tong had spent the entire afternoon simmering it. As a result, Mu Ge-sheng and Zhu Yin-xiao had secretly drunk more than half the pot. Song Wen-tong had chased them all over the place with a ladle, trying to beat them to death. In the end, Wu Zi-xu had to pay several restaurants to use their kitchens, and only then had they managed to serve the porridge that night.
The kitchen door was pushed open. The yellow ox walked in and took a small pot from beneath the stove. Inside was steaming-hot blessing porridge.
He winked at them.
“I secretly saved some. Drink it while it’s hot.”
“I never said you couldn’t drink it.”
Chai Shu-xin’s voice came from outside the window. He tapped on the glass.
“Come out. It’s almost midnight.”
The yellow ox shivered and put on an ingratiating smile.
“Your discerning eyes really do miss nothing, sir…”
Before he could finish speaking, a streak of fire shot into the sky, exploding into a shower of fireworks. Shouts of surprise rose from the street, one after another.
Anping leaned out of the window. He saw Zhu Yin-xiao standing on the rooftop, holding a single feather in his hand. He lit the feather one strand at a time, and the burning strands spiraled upward like golden threads before bursting into brilliant explosions.
Wu Bi-you pushed him aside a little. The two of them squeezed their heads into the same window frame.
“Is Zhu Yin-xiao burning his feathers again?”
“Does Star Lodge Zi do this every year?” Anping nudged him with his elbow. “Fireworks and firecrackers are prohibited goods. You’re the urban management officer. You’re just going to stand by and watch?”
“Firecrackers are prohibited in the city, but there’s no rule against burning feathers.” Wu Bi-you rolled his eyes. “It’s none of my business.”
Chai Shu-xin stood by the window, looking up for a long while. Then he said to Anping, “There’s one last pot on the stove. Could you bring it over?”
Only then did Anping notice a single burner tucked away in the corner, with a copper pot simmering over it.
“What is this?”
Wu Bi-you was still leaning out of the window. Hearing the question, he snorted. “That old bastard’s private meal.”
Curious, Anping opened the lid and took a look. The copper pot was filled with a mixture of meat and vegetables, layered one on top of another. Egg dumplings and prawns decorated the edges, while ham and shiitake mushrooms covered the bottom. A rich fragrance wafted toward him, both familiar and unfamiliar.
It was a Yipin Pot.