Chapter Twenty-Five: The New Year

The next day was New Year's Eve. Zhou Xuan rose early, lifting his gaze to the sky, which had only just begun to lighten; the sun was still hidden below the horizon. Yet judging by the weather, it promised to be a fine, sunny day.

He jogged along the winding trails behind the mountain for nearly half an hour, until he heard his mother calling him in for breakfast. After the family finished their meal, everyone began to busy themselves, preparing for the lavish lunch that would mark the last day of the year.

Zhou Xuan’s father went to the fish farmers in the village to buy a couple of fresh fish. In Rongzhou, you could never celebrate the New Year without chicken, duck, and fish. “May you have surplus year after year” was more than just words—everyone ate fish in the hope for a bountiful harvest and surplus grain in the coming year. In the countryside, people preferred fish freshly caught from the pond. These fish were fed only water plants, not commercial feed, making them delicious and truly natural, uncontaminated green food.

Every New Year's Eve, the fish ponds would start netting fish early in the morning, selling them to neighbors who arrived, drawn by the news. Zhou Xuan’s mother began cleaning the house. With the New Year approaching, every corner had to be swept, symbolizing the removal of the old and welcoming the new.

She used a broom made of bamboo to clear away cobwebs from the roof and corners. Then, together with Zhou Xuan, she moved chairs, tables, and cabinets, sweeping out dust from every nook and cranny. Finally, they wiped all the furniture with hot water. It was a morning’s work at least.

His grandfather, wearing reading glasses, began writing “blessing papers.” He took out the red papers he had bought in advance, wrapped them up, and wrote on the front the names of the sender and recipient. These papers were burned for deceased ancestors, symbolically sending them money so that they could rest in peace and live well on the other side.

Grandfather brought out a large ceramic basin, folding the blessing papers into it, stuffing plenty of joss paper into the gaps so the money would burn quickly. Once everything was ready, he set it alight and waited for it to burn through. The blessing papers had to be burned before ten o’clock, or else the smoke and fire would linger until noon, making it impossible to eat in the living room.

Besides burning blessing papers, grandfather also lit three incense sticks and candles at the stove, the front door, and the back of the house. It was easy enough—just cut two pieces of sweet potato to stick the incense in.

Grandmother was busy feeding the pigs, and after father brought the fish back, she began preparing lunch.

Here, the New Year's Eve lunch is the most sumptuous meal of the year, unlike some places where the evening feast is the grandest. Father and grandmother busied themselves cleaning the fish, slaughtering chickens and ducks, preparing a magnificent lunch. Zhou Xuan took out the Spring Festival couplets and, together with his little sister, began pasting them up.

They tore down the couplets from last year from the doorframe, scraping off the stubborn remnants with a small knife. Then they brushed the frame with rice paste and carefully affixed the new couplets, neat and square.

By noon, lunch was nearly ready. Once the dishes were laid out, they placed bowls around the table, each with a little rice in it, inviting the departed ancestors to eat first. At the same time, Zhou Xuan brought out a string of firecrackers, hung them at the door, and lit them. Amid the crackling explosions, the family gathered around the table, beginning the most important festival of the year.

After twelve, the sound of firecrackers echoed throughout the countryside, signaling the passing of the old year and the arrival of the new. Every New Year's Eve, the day unfolds much like this.

This year’s meal was especially lavish: chicken, duck, fish, beef, seafood—an abundance of dishes. His little sister ate until her mouth was greasy and her belly round and full.

Thanks to the opening of the clothing shop, the family had earned almost twenty thousand yuan after costs this month—a sum they scarcely dared to imagine in years past. Zhou Xuan’s parents were generous, buying new clothes for everyone in the family—two sets each. They even upgraded to a thirty-two-inch color television, so in recent days, Zhou Xuan’s sister spent all her time watching TV, not even going out to play with her friends.

In their happiness, father, mother, grandfather, and grandmother all had a little wine—herbal wine they’d made themselves. Rural life had its advantages; finding medicinal herbs was easy enough.

After lunch, the afternoon was for play and rest. In the western province of S, people loved to play cards. Poker, mahjong, long cards, Yang Family Generals, and Golden Chicken—these games were deeply woven into the culture. Whether in town or in the countryside, teahouses were everywhere.

Especially during holidays, during the Spring Festival, the card tables were crowded. Zhou Xuan’s village was no exception; neighbors gathered after lunch to play cards, making for a lively atmosphere.

The men played cards, the women chatted about family matters, savoring the rare leisure of the year. The children played in the courtyard, setting off firecrackers bought by the adults. Zhou Xuan, once fond of firecrackers, now found them childish—since his rebirth, he felt above such things.

He was bored; he didn’t play cards or join the games. He recalled that, even in his previous life, after high school, New Year’s lost its charm. So he stayed home, watching TV alone. The sense of festivity faded year after year, so after New Year's Day, he often went to the county to meet classmates, surf the internet, and so on.

On New Year's Eve, the family reheated the lunch dishes for dinner and called it a meal.

Then everyone sat together in the house, watching the New Year’s Gala. Honestly, before 2005, Zhou Xuan always looked forward to the Spring Festival Gala. The 1998 show was especially memorable, filled with programs he loved. The hosts were Zhao Zhongxiang, Ni Ping, Zhu Jun, Zhou Tao, and others, and several performances left a lasting impression: Feng Gong’s comic sketch “Taking It Easy,” Song Dandan’s skit “Going Home,” Song Zuying’s song “Good Days,” and the now-legendary duet “Meeting in 1998” by Na Ying and Faye Wong.

By midnight, only Zhou Xuan and his sister remained watching the Gala. Father had gone to play cards, mother and grandparents had gone to bed; only the two siblings still had the energy to stay up.

As the countdown to the new year echoed from the live broadcast, the old year faded away, and Zhou Xuan embraced the destined brilliance of 1998. In that moment, his heart stirred with excitement—what changes would his rebirth bring to this family, to this quiet little mountain village?

Just past midnight, the sound of firecrackers rose again from the countryside. Every household lit firecrackers to celebrate the new year, wishing for prosperity and happiness in the coming year.

Zhou Xuan set off firecrackers too, their sparks dazzling in the night.

After coaxing his sister to bed, he lay down himself, though sleep would not come—outside, the firecrackers continued to crackle and pop.