Chapter 35: Welcoming the New Year (Part 1)

Although the rewards this time had nothing to do with him, Liu Yitiao knew that the benefits he received were certainly no less than those granted by official recognition. With money, people, and land, and having secured a great favor for Liu Ertiao, Liu Yitiao’s heart finally settled. Early in the morning, he joined Old Liu in heading to the town’s early market, where they purchased a heap of New Year’s goods: bright red paper, portraits of the door god Zhong Kui, candles that could burn through the night, large red lanterns, sections of bamboo, and various offerings for ancestral rites and welcoming the Kitchen God.

Liu Yitiao understood little about these things. Many ancient rituals had faded in modern times, swept away by all sorts of distractions. Even the practices of ancestor veneration and honoring the Kitchen God seemed to him like legends. As for the specifics of how these ceremonies were conducted, he knew nothing and had to rely entirely on Old Liu, the elder of the family. His role was little more than assisting from the sidelines.

Today was the twenty-ninth day; tomorrow would be the eve of the Lunar New Year. Liu Heshi had already finished sewing clothes for the whole family. She and Old Liu had a set each, Liu Yitiao had two sets, and since Liu Xiaohui and Liu Ertiao already had new garments, she only prepared underclothes for them.

One had to admit, Liu Heshi’s craftsmanship was truly remarkable, at least in Liu Yitiao’s opinion.

The clothes Liu Heshi made were concise in style, snug on the outside and loose within, comfortable to wear and pleasing to the eye—far superior to those sold in shops. When she finished, Liu Yitiao praised her endlessly, which delighted Liu Heshi so much that she added an extra meat dish to his dinner. But Liu Yitiao barely got a taste; most of it ended up in the bellies of Liu Xiaohui and Liu Ertiao, the two little gluttons.

On the evening of the twenty-ninth, Old Liu began preparing the ancestral tablets, and it was then that Liu Yitiao learned about some of the deeds of the Liu family’s forebears.

His great-grandfather, Liu Huan, had served as an official, attaining the rank of Captain and acting as a strategist under General Yang Su.

His grandfather, Liu Mingzong, had also served for several years as the left deputy general under Yang Xuangan, the son of Yang Su—but all this belonged to the era before the Sui dynasty.

At the end of the Sui, Great-grandfather Liu Huan died in battle, and Grandfather Liu Mingzong joined General Yang Xuangan in rebellion against the Sui. After their defeat, he brought his wife and children back to their ancestral home in Sanyuan, settling down as a proper farmer until the unification under the Tang and his eventual passing.

Old Liu then inherited his father’s role, becoming an honest and upright farmer under Tang rule.

Liu Yitiao watched Old Liu gently wipe Liu Mingzong’s spirit tablet with a dry cloth and asked, “Father, since Grandfather was a seasoned warrior, why didn’t he seek a minor post under the Tang? I see many officials from the previous dynasty, like Wei Zheng and Zhang Xuansu, have been highly valued by the current emperor. If Grandfather had pledged himself to the Tang, our family wouldn’t have lived in such hardship.”

Old Liu sighed, “I can’t say for certain, but it might have something to do with your Uncle Yang. When your grandfather was alive, he took good care of the Yang family. Back then, they weren’t wealthy; it was just mother and son, living in hardship. Your grandfather often helped them with money and supplies. Otherwise, why do you think your Uncle Yang is so eager to help with our family’s affairs? It’s all out of respect for your grandfather.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is.” Liu Yitiao suddenly thought of another possibility and asked, “Father, do you suppose Uncle Yang could be a descendant of General Yang Xuangan? Maybe that’s why Grandfather was so committed to helping them.”

“I once asked your grandfather about that, but all I got was a beating. After that, I never brought it up again.” Old Liu recalled, “Still, I’ve always suspected—besides the descendants of General Yang Xuangan, who else would inspire such devotion from your grandfather?”

“The Yang family owes our Liu family a great debt, and General Yang Xuangan once saved your grandfather. Perhaps Grandfather chose not to serve the Li family, instead returning here, precisely to protect the Yang family’s descendants.”

“Your grandfather was a man of honor, and I admire him for it. But he wasn’t the best father; he never passed down any martial skills. Otherwise, your father wouldn’t have spent his life in the fields, ending up a penniless farmer.”

Liu Yitiao kept silent, sensing that, though Old Liu’s words sounded like complaints, his heart was full of longing and sorrow.

“Of course, it’s not entirely Grandfather’s fault. I was young then, prone to play, and couldn’t bear the hardships of learning martial arts. Maybe Grandfather meant to teach me when I got older, but who could have guessed he’d leave so soon? I remember I was not yet ten, and he was only in his thirties.”

“Father, the departed are gone. You needn’t grieve too deeply. If Grandfather’s spirit still watches over us, he surely wouldn’t want to see you so sad.” Liu Yitiao took the ancestral tablet from Old Liu’s hands and gently comforted him.

“Yes.” Old Liu gave a self-deprecating smile. “Look at me, growing more sentimental as I age. Talking about all this on New Year’s Eve—it’s been decades, best not to mention it again.”

With that, Old Liu stood up, gathered the ancestral tablets, and carried them to the main hall. Liu Yitiao followed, helping him arrange the tablets one by one on the square table in the hall. They then lit several sticks of incense, preparing for the next day’s rites.

Liu Heshi was in the kitchen boiling water, so the whole family could bathe that night.

It was the local custom: on the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth month, everyone, regardless of age or gender, must wash from head to toe. They said it washed away the misfortune of the past year and welcomed a new beginning.

Liu Yitiao calculated that, since arriving in this era, he had never actually bathed. If it weren’t for the winter chill, he would probably have developed an unpleasant odor by now. He was the first to support the idea.

He joined Old Liu in hauling out the large wooden bath barrel, which had been stored for years. The barrel, over a meter high, was made by Old Liu himself from pear wood and coated in white wax. It was big and sturdy, enough for two people to bathe together. According to Old Liu, it saved hot water and firewood.

Staring at the barrel, Liu Yitiao wondered how he could persuade Liu Ertiao to let him bathe first. The thought of two grown men squeezed into such a small tub was simply unbearable—he would rather not bathe at all.

Old Liu seemed to read his mind and said, “Don’t worry, I know you don’t want to bathe with others. Just like previous years, I’ll share a tub with Ertiao, your mother with Xiaohui, and you’ll have one to yourself. Go prepare your clothes; you can bathe first. Afterward, put on the new outfit your mother made. New clothes for the New Year bring good fortune for the year ahead.”