In the next instant, she hugged him.
“…Little Man Jiang?”
He was stunned.
She nearly crashed into his embrace.
The wine jar rolled and tumbled to the ground, spilling clear wine all over the floor.
He didn’t move in her embrace, just standing quietly there, head lowered, letting her hold him.
The faint fragrance of his hair mingled with the scent of snow washed over him, carrying a trace of warm, tipsiness. His eyelashes fluttered and he finally saw her trembling shoulders.
“Little Man Jiang?” he asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
After a pause, “Did something unhappy happen to you?”
His voice was low and hoarse. She raised her head from his embrace. His gaze was lowered, candlelight falling onto his face, casting flickering light and shadow.
“You drank alone all day?” She smelled the wine on him. “You’re so unhappy.”
“I’m fine,” he gave a faint smile.
“Don’t be unhappy,” she said. “I’ll spend New Year’s with you.”
“Little Man Jiang,” he said softly, “I don’t really want to see anyone today.”
“I know,” she nodded, pushing him through the door, pressing him to sit at the desk, then turning to pick up the wine jar that had fallen at the entrance. “I’ll drink with you. Didn’t we say last time? I’d treat you to the finest osmanthus wine.”
“Where did you get the money?” A hint of laughter.
“Didn’t spend money. Master gave it to me, said it was new year’s red envelope money for his disciple.” She weighed the wine jar in her hand. “Luckily, only about half spilled.”
She took out two little ceramic cups from the shelves and rinsed them in a bowl of clear water before placing them on the desk and pouring wine for them both. A line of bright wine light fell into the porcelain cups, faint fragrance spilling from the rims, soon the whole room was filled with a tipsiness.
He took the offered cup and drank slowly, head lowered. She propped her chin and watched him for a while, noticing his thin shoulders beneath his clothes. Her brows furrowed slightly as she took out a coat to drape over him. “Why are you wearing so little?”
“I’m not cold,” he shook his head lightly.
“Aren’t you from the south?” she humphed.
“Southern folk aren’t that afraid of cold,” he murmured.
His words dying, he froze. She leaned forward slightly, fingertips falling into his hair. “There’s snow in your hair.”
She lowered her head to pick out the snowflakes caught in his hair. Her fingers rubbed to and fro in his strands, tingling. He silently closed his eyes.
“Let’s go eat new year’s dinner,” she drew back her hand and sat down. “It’ll be too late soon. There’s ritual dances in the streets to watch at midnight when they’ll set off firecrackers.” Wasn’t he fond of liveliness?
“I’m not hungry,” he shook his head.
Dejected, he lowered his eyes. “I told you not to come looking for me here.”
“You’re so easily unhappy,” she sighed.
He drank another cup by himself. She got up and pulled his sleeve. “Let’s go. Doctor Shen is calling us for new year’s dinner. Ruolan made your meal. It’ll get cold if we don’t hurry.”
He had no choice but to set down his cup and let her pull him up. He had just stood straight when a pair of hands reached over to tidy the coat he was wearing, gently covering his collar, tying a sash securely.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
She turned to face him, head tilted as she looked at him.
It was the first time she saw him like this – lowered brows, listless look, eyes holding a hint of despair. The cold starlight shone from the window onto his shoulder, making his form look almost faded.
“So this is what you’re like when unhappy,” she said suddenly.
After thinking, she added: “You look dejected.”
“I don’t really like New Year’s,” he answered in a low voice.
“I’ll spend it with you,” she said as she took his hand.
His gaze silently dropped onto the hand she grasped. Her slender, fair fingers wedged between his own, pressed skin to skin through the linen cloth.
His fingers shifted lightly and she held him even tighter, pulling him along without another word.
The streets were filled with calls from vendors peddling to the crowds. Every household’s door was adorned with colorful canopies for the new year, spread with gems, flowers and playthings.
The two walked hand in hand through the lantern lights, their shadows outlined in gold by the flowing candle flames.
“Young master, young sir!” A little flower peddler chased after them. “Buy a flower hairpin!”
The crisp clear voice of the boy followed them. “Young miss’s cloud-like hair, young sir pins a blossom, blessing you to be forever in union, hand in hand into old age!”
The startled young man explained, “We’re not…”
“Buy one for me,” the girl at his side smiled. “The boy is cute.”
The boy quickly bowed. “Yes sir! Buy one! The young miss wants it!”
The youth took out a broken silver coin and placed it into the outstretched palm.
The boy picked out a pristine, pretty blossom from his basket of hairpins and respectfully tucked it into his hand. “Young sir, pin it for the miss!”
The girl at his side tiptoed obediently, bowing her head. His gaze shifted and he gently steadied her hairbun to slip the silk flower in place.
She lifted her face to smile at him. The little flower quivered in her dark tresses against her snowy skin, vibrant and dazzling.
He looked at her, chuckling softly. “Very pretty.”
“Feel better now?” she asked, smiling.
He nodded. “Much better.”
“You’re hard to cheer when unhappy,” she complained. “Not like me, just takes a hug.”
His laughter was soft. “Seeing you smile cheers me up.”
She gave a soft humph but took his hand again, which he hesitated to shake off, only asking doubtfully: “Won’t your husband mind?”
Before, they only briefly held wrists over sleeves.
“As if he’d mind,” she murmured defiantly. “I’m your martial sister. Just holding hands means nothing.”
“Feels a little strange to me…” he pointed out.
She turned her face away, ignoring him as she took his hand and broke into a jog, calling out: “We’ll be late! Doctor Shen will get mad!”
The street lanterns melted into a mess of brilliant light and shadows. The night breeze slipped past their ears, a hint of drunkenness within.
Stepping into Chang Le district, wisps of smoke curled lazily from the alleys. Sounds of the bustling crowd floated to them, carrying the faint fragrance of sweet rice wine.
They turned a corner to find a snow-covered yard at the end of the alley. Smoke already rose from its roof.
The yard held eight pear-wood chairs around a little round table laden with steaming dishes.
Steamed dumplings filled the porcelain plates, dipping vinegar and garlic beside them. Five-spice peanuts and assorted fruits sat around a bowl of fish soup, sprinkled with salt and spices, wisps of a warm delicious aroma rising from it.
“Brother Jiang, Brother Zhu,” Little Chen greeted them with a bow. “Happy new year. Brothers Leng and Yuan are here today too. The food just finished cooking, nice and hot.”
They squeezed around the small table, each with a set of bowl and chopsticks and a wine cup. Jiang Kui and Zhu Zi’an sat side by side. Beside them were Little Chen, Leng Baizhou, Brother Yuan, then Luo Shiyi and Doctor Shen opposite them. Ruolan brought out aged wine, personally pouring for everyone.
Zhu Zi’an lifted a little porcelain cup for wine.
Doctor Shen loudly cleared his throat across from him.
His hand paused.
“I don’t drink,” Zhu Zi’an said obediently.
But the little cup still hovered hesitantly.
Doctor Shen glared at him.
“Oh let him drink if he wants. It’s new year’s after all,” Doctor Shen snorted coldly.
Zhu Zi’an laughed. “Fill it up please, thank you!”
The usually aloof Ruolan smiled a little, seemingly amused by their cat and mouse game.
As she poured the wine, she only filled Zhu Zi’an’s cup halfway before topping off Jiang Kui’s generously.
Zhu Zi’an sighed silently at the half-filled cup in resignation.
The warmth of firelight filled their new year’s gathering. Amidst eating, talking and laughter, everyone made rounds of toasts.
Unusually talkative, Doctor Shen told amusing tales of his wanderings as a traveling doctor. Brother Yuan interjected details here and there. Their dramatic stories of days past captivated Leng Baizhou and Chen Xiaozhen, the two boys listening intently and peppering the seniors with questions.
Jiang Kui turned to glance at the man beside her. A tranquil smile on his face, he listened attentively, occasionally sipping his wine or lowering his head. Candle flame fell onto his hair in a halo of soft light – warm yet lonely.
Her fingers twitched beneath the table, lightly poking him once.
He turned to her. “Something wrong?” he asked gently.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “Accidentally bumped you.”
He smiled, nudging her fingertips beneath the table. “Even now.”
Past midnight, bellies filled with drink, people gradually dispersed toward home.
Weak candlelight flickered as wind stirred its flame. Jiang Kui poured half a cup of wine, gazing at the man beside her. Peaceful, he propped his chin in one hand, eyes lightly shut.
After dinner, Zhu Zi’an had some wine then dozed off listening to the chatter.
Seeing he’d fallen asleep, everyone quietly cleared the table, leaving a lone candle still lit at its edge where Jiang Kui sat keeping him company, drinking leisurely to herself.
A sudden loud crack of firecrackers exploded outside.
The man beside her woke at the noise, mumbling fuzzily, “Wha’sthat…”
“New year’s,” the girl across smiled. “Hour of the rat, they’re setting off crackers outside.”
She poured him a cup of wine. He took it and looked up at her. Warm firelight shone on her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, seeming to give off a glowing radiance.
“Zhu Zi’an,” she smiled, raising her cup in toast. “Wishing you safety, health and smooth sailing in life without disaster or illness.”
He chuckled softly, clinking cups with her. “Thank you.”
The two cups clacked loudly together. Outside, firecrackers crackled continuously as lanterns blazed on.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Watch the fireworks.”
Taking his hand, she led him out of the yard into the lively streets.
Sounds of drums, gongs and deafening crackers flooded their senses. Spent shells covered the ground, tendrils of smoke wafting upward, scorching hot against their eyes.
No curfew during new year’s eve, streets bustling at all hours. On all sides rang seasonal greetings as every household hung banners for the new spring, silks fluttering atop the colorful canopies.
They squeezed into the crowds, gazing skyward amidst endless lanterns.
Glorious, magnificent, heavenly fireworks blossomed amidst the twinkling stars.
One after another, shower after shower, like meteors, like rainfall, reflected in their eyes.
“Little Man Jiang, happy new year,” he said gently.
Then amidst the sea of people, beneath countless swaying lights, he quietly took her hand in his.
Subtly concealed in the jostling crowd, he shifted his fingertips to lightly grasp hers in return.
A fleeting clasp of hands, hidden beneath the fireworks.
The tides of people ebbed and flowed on as they stood silently amid the lanterns.
“Aiyo! Aiyo!” Voices in the crowd shouted.
“Make way, make way!” More voices yelled. “Opera troupe’s here!”
The two sprang apart, heads bowed.
“Watch the ritual dance?” Zhu Zi’an asked.
The girl beside him nodded eagerly.
Sounds of gongs and drums neared as an opera troupe paraded down the main street.
A common new years ritual – actors held banners and gongs, shouldering ritual sedan chairs and parasols as children in painted masks sang and chanted, driving away evil and praying fortune.
People eagerly joined the procession, swelling loudly into a dragon-like chain headed by musicians leading the way in a deafening mix of pipes and percussion.
In the crowds, a girl in red skipped excitedly after the opera troupe. Beside her the young scholar smiled as he watched.
One behind the other they squeezed through the surging tide of people. She repeatedly stumbled into him and he raised a hand to shield her head protectively.
Finally the troupe marched into the distance, fireworks burned out in the night sky. Myriad stars glittered, a ribbon of Milky Way stretched far overhead.
They stood side by side where lanterns faded into shadowed alleys.
“Let’s head back?” She turned to glance behind.
The man beside her gave a low murmur of agreement, eyes already closed again, too sleepy to talk after the wine. Blurry light fell onto his face. His entire body was wrapped in the softly drunken night.
“You really just fall asleep standing, don’t you,” she whispered.
Facing him, she tiptoed, grasping his arm to steady him.
His head lolled and he fell straight toward her.
She hurriedly moved to catch him. He collapsed against her, breath faintly caressing her earlobe, his comforting scent enveloping her.
His lips lightly brushed her cheek.
Author Note:
Let’s round up and call it a kiss!
Leave a Reply