In the evening.
The entire Qingluan Village was filled with lively sounds. The aroma of food drifted from every household, floating through the air and making people even hungrier.
Shi Wuxiang had already returned to the kitchen. Yuan Zhao was feeding firewood into the stove while Shi Wuxiang stood at the cooking station, continuously stir-frying dishes as another pot steamed rice.
Rice cooked over firewood formed a fragrant crispy crust of scorched rice on the bottom. Yuan Zhao could already imagine how delicious it would be—he was determined to eat a large piece.
Shi Wuxiang kept alternating between stir-frying and washing the wok, cooking nonstop. The children stood by the door waiting to bring dishes out. Though they didn’t help much, their presence was comforting.
At first, Jia Xiaomei had been extremely nervous. As a servant bought into the household, how could she sit by while her masters cooked and she merely waited to eat?
It was Madam Shi Zhang who noticed her unease and called her over to help sew shoe soles, which finally eased her tension. Even so, she was still astonished—she hadn’t expected a scholar to know how to cook.
There were seven people in the household now, and at least eight dishes were needed. Shi Qingyun was still in the stage of “eating as if he could bankrupt the household,” while Shi Qingran and Yuan Wan were growing, so anything less would not be enough.
Dish after dish was placed on the table. Each one contained visible chunks of meat, and there was even a plate of glossy red-braised pork that made everyone almost drool.
Shi Wuxiang had also prepared fried dishes, including a whole chicken purchased from Zhao San after it had been butchered. Chicken strips, chunks, drumsticks, cutlets—there was so much chicken it almost rivaled potatoes.
The family sat at the table in disbelief, staring at the lavish New Year’s Eve meal. It was better than any New Year they had ever experienced before.
Shi Qingran exclaimed, “Big Brother is amazing! You didn’t know how to cook before! Studying really is useful!”
That was Shi Wuxiang’s explanation—he said he learned it from books.
He remained calm, only the corners of his lips slightly lifted, revealing a bit of pride.
“I’m hungry…” Yuan Zhao said softly.
“I’ll serve the rice!” Jia Xiaomei quickly stood up.
Madam Shi Zhang stopped her. “Whoever eats serves themselves. That’s the rule here. Sit down and eat.”
“I can’t do that!” Jia Xiaomei panicked. She didn’t dare sit in the master’s place.
Unable to persuade her, Madam Shi Zhang simply served her portions of every dish. Jia Xiaomei still ate from a small stool at the side. Though it looked odd, it was the best meal she had ever eaten.
Shi Wuxiang also brought out a jar of wine. “Plum wine. Who wants to try it?”
“I, I, I!” Yuan Zhao raised his hand immediately.
Shi Wuxiang stopped him and poured only half a small cup for him—barely a sip.
After all, the Shi family traditionally drank a little during New Year, and Madam Shi Zhang only reminded them not to drink too much and to stay awake for the night vigil.
Yuan Zhao stared at the table full of food, unsure where to start, moving his chopsticks indecisively.
Shi Wuxiang picked up a piece of chicken for him. Yuan Zhao immediately ate it without hesitation.
The chicken skin was crisp, the meat tender like snow, melting in his mouth.
“So good!”
Shi Wuxiang smiled and continued serving him dishes. Yuan Zhao stared at his chopsticks, and when Shi Wuxiang picked up a piece of soft, glossy braised pork, Yuan Zhao suddenly bit down on Shi Wuxiang’s chopsticks.
The large piece of fragrant meat entered his mouth—sweet, rich, and not greasy at all.
Even Shi Qingyun had already lost all sense of scholarly restraint, eating in a wild, unrestrained manner.
“We’re really celebrating New Year! So this is what New Year is like!” Yuan Wan said, hugging his bowl like a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as he chewed and giggled.
Madam Shi Zhang’s eyes reddened as she pinched his cheek. Such a good child… the Yuan family truly was vile.
“There’s soup still on the stove. Let Xiaomei and I serve it,” Shi Wuxiang said gently.
“Alright!”
Each person received a bowl of bone soup. Everyone else had bones and bits of meat in theirs, while Yuan Zhao’s bowl contained soft winter melon—clearly served personally by Shi Wuxiang.
Shi Wuxiang raised his cup. “Shouldn’t we toast?”
“Okay!”
Except for Shi Qingyun and Shi Wuxiang’s wine cups, Yuan Zhao also trembled slightly as he raised his small cup, determined to clink it.
Shi Wuxiang had no choice but to let him.
They raised cups and bowls together, the clink sounding crisp like bells under eaves.
Yuan Zhao even turned to clink with Jia Xiaomei. Everyone in the house counted as family—even servants were people too.
“Happy New Year!”
Outside, firecrackers cracked and popped, replacing fireworks the village could not afford. The sounds pushed the festive mood to its peak. Smiles never left their faces as they ate, even without speaking.
Yuan Zhao secretly drank more plum wine. His face grew redder and redder, and each time he finished a cup, he would lower his head and hiss dramatically from the warmth.
Shi Wuxiang eventually noticed and stopped him.
“Haha… you found out…” Yuan Zhao laughed awkwardly, face flushed. “I didn’t actually want to drink that much. My mouth just feels numb…”
Shi Wuxiang raised a brow. “Are you drunk?”
“No, no, I’m not thinking about kissing anyone!”
Yuan Zhao protested loudly.
His whole body felt warm, especially his ears and eyes. Everything looked hazy. He could barely hear clearly anymore, only vaguely seeing Shi Wuxiang in front of him.
But how could he say something like that at a time like this—about wanting to kiss someone?
He wasn’t some rogue… heh!
Everyone at the table looked at him with a mix of shock and laughter.
Madam Shi Zhang chuckled. “He’s drunk, isn’t he? He’s already eaten enough—take him back to rest.”
“Alright.” Shi Wuxiang responded immediately and simply lifted him up horizontally and carried him away.
Shi Qingyun stared at the cup in his hand in disbelief. They had all been drinking from the same jar… so how had it come to this?
Even with two people gone, the rest of the table continued eating and drinking with no loss of enthusiasm. The room remained lively.
Shi Wuxiang carefully set Yuan Zhao down on the heated kang bed. He removed his thick padded coat, revealing the white inner garment beneath. He only draped a corner of the quilt over his abdomen. People who were drunk tended to feel hot; covering him too tightly would only make him feel worse.
All that winter melon would be wasted otherwise.
“I didn’t want to kiss anyone…” Yuan Zhao still muttered with half-lidded eyes.
“Are you a rogue?” Shi Wuxiang laughed softly, lightly poking his soft cheek.
Yuan Zhao shook his head, but the motion nearly made him feel nauseous.
His brows were tightly furrowed now. His clear eyes had completely shut, and only his lips moved slightly from time to time, clearly uncomfortable.
Shi Wuxiang placed a chamber pot at the head of the bed so that if Yuan Zhao turned over, he could vomit into it—if nothing went wrong.
“Your alcohol tolerance is so bad, yet you still try to act tough when drinking…” Shi Wuxiang couldn’t help but laugh.
His handsome face carried a warm smile, eyes reflecting Yuan Zhao’s flushed face. His lips curved slightly beneath a straight nose.
It was a kind of happiness even he himself hadn’t realized.
“Ah Xiang… bzzzt… there’s a bug in my ear… bzzzt…”
“Alright, alright, I won’t talk anymore.” Shi Wuxiang quickly patted his arm, his voice unusually gentle.
Yuan Zhao then squirmed restlessly on the bed, twisting so much that even his inner clothes became disheveled. His clothing ties loosened, revealing a glimpse of his pale, delicate shoulder.
Everything was white in his vision.
Shi Wuxiang’s breathing abruptly stalled.
Without expression, he quickly fixed Yuan Zhao’s clothes and pulled the blanket up properly.
If he got overheated, so be it.
Yuan Zhao, still unwell, kept writhing like a small snake, even kicking the blanket off. He hummed incoherently.
Shi Wuxiang leaned down again. “Where does it hurt?”
Yuan Zhao frowned. “My stomach feels hot…”
Most likely, the alcohol had irritated his stomach.
“I’ll bring you some tea.” Shi Wuxiang stood up—but before he could leave, Yuan Zhao grabbed his leg in panic and then immediately vomited.
Shi Wuxiang froze for half a second, then quickly lifted him up, patting his back firmly so he wouldn’t choke.
Afterwards, Yuan Zhao was carefully laid back down. Having thrown up, he actually felt better and fell asleep almost immediately.
Shi Wuxiang closed his eyes briefly in frustration.
He stripped off his ruined clothes in silence and threw them into a corner, planning to discard them later. After changing into clean clothes, he opened the window without hesitation, letting the cold night air rush in and clear the smell.
Only then did he return and lift Yuan Zhao again.
“Yuan Zhao, wake up. Drink some water.”
“Ah Xiang… bzzzt…” Yuan Zhao mumbled, still half-conscious.
Shi Wuxiang forced a cup of tea to his lips. “Rinse your mouth, or it’ll smell.”
“Smell? Kiss?” Yuan Zhao blinked at him blankly.
“Drink it.” Shi Wuxiang said flatly.
“Okay…”
He obediently swallowed.
Shi Wuxiang then tilted his chin and made him spit it out into the basin. They repeated the process three times.
By the end, Yuan Zhao collapsed back onto the pillow, exhausted, still whining softly.
“Where does it hurt?” Shi Wuxiang touched his forehead.
Not hot.
He then rubbed his stomach.
Yuan Zhao squirmed away, laughing slightly from the ticklish touch, his eyes still slightly red at the corners.
“I still didn’t kiss anyone…” he murmured.
Shi Wuxiang immediately pulled his hand back.
This wasn’t discomfort—it was drunken boldness.
“Who are you trying to kiss? Do you even know how old you are?” Shi Wuxiang poked his forehead. “You’re only sixteen after the New Year. You’re not even old enough yet.”
“So I have to wait that long to kiss someone? Then I won’t kiss them…” Yuan Zhao shook his head, then smiled foolishly with his eyes closed. “We can do something else…”
Shi Wuxiang actually laughed.
Not allowed to kiss, but “something else” was fine?
“Are you a rogue or not?” he asked.
“Can rogues… kiss?” Yuan Zhao asked seriously, as if weighing whether he could be one for a night if it meant kissing.
Shi Wuxiang’s gaze drifted down without control.
Yuan Zhao’s eyes were misty, reflecting his own image. His nose moved faintly with breath, and his lips—still damp from rinsing—were slightly parted.
Shi Wuxiang raised a hand and lightly tapped his forehead, then traced down over his brows and nose, finally brushing across his lips to wipe away the remaining moisture.
Their eyes met briefly.
Something in Shi Wuxiang’s throat tightened.
He quickly looked away, pulled the blanket up for him, and sat back down at the table to read.
Yuan Zhao pouted and fell asleep again almost immediately.
Only after confirming his breathing was steady did Shi Wuxiang put the book down.
He exhaled deeply.
Reading his ass.
If he kept sitting here, he felt like he might actually lose his mind.
He had the nerve to call Yuan Zhao a rogue—when clearly, he was the one barely acting like a decent person.
Later that night, Yuan Zhao slept deeply.
When he woke again, the candle was still lit, but Shi Wuxiang was no longer at the table.
He got up and went to drink water, still unsure whether he had slept for a short while or the entire day.
Had he slept through New Year’s Eve?
The door opened with a creak.
Shi Wuxiang returned with a rush of cold air. The moment he stepped inside, their eyes met.
He coughed lightly, expression calm. “Feeling better?”
Yuan Zhao blinked. “What day is it today?”
Shi Wuxiang immediately lost his composure and walked over to check his forehead. “Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Do you remember anything?”
“…Did I get hit? Did I lose my memory?” Yuan Zhao looked genuinely alarmed.
Shi Wuxiang studied him for a moment, then sighed in relief. “It’s almost the first day of the New Year. You drank yourself into a blackout. Do you remember being drunk?”
Yuan Zhao shook his head. “Did I do anything embarrassing?”
“You vomited all over me. That’s not exactly rare.” Shi Wuxiang said dryly.
Yuan Zhao immediately smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you new clothes. Don’t be angry.”
Shi Wuxiang pinched his cheek.
He wasn’t angry at something like that.
“Hungry?” he asked.
Yuan Zhao nodded immediately.
Soon, they were eating warm leftovers together.
“Where’s Mother and the others?” Yuan Zhao asked while eating.
“They stayed up too late for the vigil. I sent them back to rest.” Shi Wuxiang said softly. “We’ll keep watch here.”
Yuan Zhao nodded thoughtfully. “I slept already, so I’ll keep watch. You go rest.”
Shi Wuxiang’s lips twitched slightly. “It’s fine. I’ll sleep later. If you choose to do something, you should see it through to the end.”
“…Oh.” Yuan Zhao quietly memorized the words.
He knew Shi Wuxiang always kept his promises—even the smallest ones.
“Tomorrow… later… I’ll do it…”
Words like that always had a definite time in Shi Wuxiang’s world. Never vague. Never endless.
He always kept his word.
After finishing the meal, Yuan Zhao rinsed his mouth and lazily lay back, while Shi Wuxiang quickly cleared the dishes and washed everything clean before returning to the room.
“We should get some rest too,” Shi Wuxiang said softly.
“Got it. We still have to get up early tomorrow.”
It was the first time they had stayed up this late. The moment his head touched the pillow, exhaustion seeped into every part of his body. Shi Wuxiang could barely keep his eyes open, yet he still reminded Yuan Zhao to go to sleep early.
Yuan Zhao thought he wouldn’t feel sleepy, but in the end, he fell asleep mid-yawn.
The first day of the New Year.
From every household came the crackling sounds of burning bamboo.
Yuan Zhao was woken by the noise. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, calling out for Shi Wuxiang.
“Happy New Year.” Shi Wuxiang walked over and handed him a set of warmed clothes. “Hurry up and get dressed. It’s time to go out and have some fun.”
“Did you give out all the lucky pouches?” Yuan Zhao still had that on his mind.
They had agreed beforehand to give out small fortune pouches for the New Year, each filled with silver. The pouches themselves had been made by Madam Shi.
Shi Wuxiang nodded. “Already done. Yours is hung up for you.”
Following his gaze, Yuan Zhao saw a small, delicate pouch hanging from the curtain cord at the head of their bed. It was only about the size of Yuan Ge’er’s palm, but it was stuffed full—at least three taels of silver inside.
He sat up, smiling as he flicked it lightly, then quickly started getting dressed.
The new clothes were made by Madam Shi. They were a deep blue he really liked. Though dark in color, the smooth fabric made it look like it shimmered.
Once dressed, Yuan Zhao went out. Breakfast had been set out in the small hall to cool. After eating, he started to run toward the yard, but after a few steps, he realized he didn’t know where to go and ended up returning to the room to keep warm.
“Not going out to play with Yuan Ge’er and the others?” Shi Wuxiang sat by the window, casually flipping through a book, occasionally reading a few lines aloud. He looked a little surprised when Yuan Zhao came back.
“They’re kids. How can I play with them?” Yuan Zhao said, a bit embarrassed. In the village, no one played with children after getting married. But he also didn’t want to chat with the young wives and aunts.
They would always drag him into questions about why he hadn’t had a child yet.
Shi Wuxiang sighed softly, closed his book, and asked with a gentle smile, “Then do you want to take a walk outside with me?”
“Yes!”
The village was especially lively. Those who worked away from home had all returned with their families. Children laughed and played in groups, holding bamboo dragonflies, competing to see whose could fly the farthest.
As soon as they stepped onto the road, they ran into clusters of villagers. Shi Wuxiang maintained a polite smile throughout, while Yuan Zhao beamed like a blooming flower, chatting with everyone he met.
It took quite a while before they managed to leave the crowd.
They followed a small path and soon reached the river behind the village. The water had long since frozen into a thick sheet of ice. From higher ground, they could see people gathered on the surface below.
“Let’s go play too!” Yuan Zhao said, tugging on his arm. “Come on, come on! I can pull you across the ice. Have you ever tried it? That’s how we usually play.”
The original owner of this body had grown up in town, so he naturally hadn’t.
Shi Wuxiang had occasionally visited private ice rinks, but the ice there was nothing like this.
Pulled along by Yuan Zhao, he stepped onto the ice. From deep beneath the solid surface came faint thudding sounds, which made him inexplicably nervous.
Yuan Zhao laughed. “Don’t be scared. The ice is thick—about as tall as I am. The thumping is just the water flowing underneath. It won’t crack.”
Shi Wuxiang’s thoughts wandered, and for some reason he was reminded of the master and his three disciples crossing the Tongtian River. If they fell in…
“I’m not scared. Go play with them.” Shi Wuxiang gestured toward the others. Yuan Zhao followed his gaze and spotted A-Yue and Ranran pulling Yuan Ge’er across the ice.
Yuan Zhao immediately lit up. “See? Just crouch behind me like this—I can pull you along from the front. It’s really fun!”
“I—I—cough, cough—I think you should… cough, cough… go ahead and play… I’ll—cough—wait here…” Shi Wuxiang started coughing, though his hands were already pushing Yuan Zhao toward the others.
“You’re coughing like that—we should just go home. I don’t want to play anymore…” Yuan Zhao looked at him with concern, the cold wind turning the tip of his nose and his eyes red.
Shi Wuxiang waved him off, giving a couple of convincing coughs. “It’s fine. Go play. I’ll find somewhere to sit and wait. I’ll be fine after resting a bit.”
“Alright… There’s a big rock over there that blocks the wind. Go sit there. I’ll come get you soon. Don’t leave before I come back,” Yuan Zhao instructed, still worried.
“I know, I know. Go on—they’re waiting for you.”
“Hehe!”
Yuan Zhao immediately slid across the ice. He kept glancing back at Shi Wuxiang along the way, only relaxing once he saw him sit by the large rock on the shore.
The four of them took turns pulling each other. At one point, they collided with others and fell hard onto the ice, making loud thuds that nearly made Shi Wuxiang rush over in alarm.
But before he could move, Yuan Zhao sprang up like a little leopard and charged at the person who had crashed into them, quickly getting into a scuffle.