On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, everyone working under the Zhao family's various enterprises was given time off — the twenty-ninth, the thirtieth, and New Year's Day, three full days of paid leave.
Every person under the Zhao family banner received a year-end bonus equal to one month's wages. Those who had worked less than a full year received a bonus prorated to the time they had served.
Not everyone was resting, of course. The merchants along the commercial street were busier than ever — but happily so. With everyone on holiday and having earned decent money that year, people naturally wanted to ring in the New Year in style, with full bellies and full hearts.
The commercial street, ordinarily quite quiet, burst into life almost overnight. Even villagers from several nearby settlements, who would normally make the trip to Qingniu Town for their New Year goods, opted instead for the closer Taoyuan Village, where prices were comparable or even a touch cheaper.
The public security office, on the other hand, found itself run off its feet. The governing offices couldn't very well take a holiday along with everyone else — in fact, with people off work and all manner of situations liable to arise, they ended up busier than usual.
Nearly every household in Taoyuan Village had a few taels of silver tucked away. They weren't going to spend it all, but dropping a hundred or eighty yuan on New Year supplies was well within reach. All told, tens of thousands of yuan poured into the market in one go.
It was an absolute carnival for the shopkeepers.
"Give me five jin of rice!"
"Hey, are you running a shop or not? If you don't get over here, I'm just taking these sweet potatoes and walking off!"
"I want some red dates — what do you mean you're sold out? What kind of way is that to run a business? It's New Year's — you should've stocked more!"
"Everyone come quick — the village chicken farm just released its first batch of broilers! Fat birds, and only three-fifty a jin — three-fifty!"
"Three-fifty a jin? I'll take two jin!"
"Stop pushing, stop pushing — I'll take this whole one!" The voice belonged to Madam Lin, wife of Lin Xuejin.
Madam Lin was naturally vivacious, with a gift for socializing. Over the past months she had grown close with the mothers of Jinxiu and the other girls, the wife of Shopkeeper Fang, the wife of Steward Wang, and the families of various other staff.
In her earlier years she had been the daughter of a prominent household, and later the wife of an official. She had never once experienced the particular joy of scrambling for New Year goods. Here, where no one knew who she was, she finally let herself go — she was absolutely determined to throw herself into the festive frenzy.
The result, naturally, was misery for the father and son.
Dragged along as pack animals, Lin Xuejin and his son stood utterly dumbfounded. Neither had ever seen this side of her. And it wasn't as though Madam Lin was short of money — which made it all the more bewildering.
The outcome was plain to see: the two men suffered.
Scholars both, unaccustomed to heavy labor, they were far from helpless — but several dozen jin of New Year goods very nearly did them in.
"Mother, I can't carry any more."
Madam Lin snapped back to her senses. She looked at her son, laden like a pack mule, and her heart immediately softened.
"No more shopping, no more — I've gone and worn my boy out. Let's go, let's go home. We'll come back this afternoon."
Father and son nearly collapsed on the spot.
There would be absolutely no coming back in the afternoon. Let the two attendants accompany Madam Lin on her errands — they had the muscle for it.
The frenzy of commerce carried on until darkness fell on New Year's Eve.
Every household hung lanterns, and along the commercial street two rows of them stretched from the village entrance all the way to the small lake, looping around its shore, while near the Zhao estate the lanterns clustered thickly and brilliantly.
The sight drew everyone back out into the streets — strolling, admiring the lights, chatting, and looking ahead with hope to the coming year.
Every pot in every home held meat and vegetables. For many people, this was the most contented year they had ever lived through.
For most, it would be a year they never forgot.
It was, after all, the beginning of their happiness. Even in years to come, when the food would be richer and the family larger, the joy would never quite match this one.
Many people remembered: this was the year that — the scum — no, wait, if I ever hear anyone say those two words again, I'll beat them to death!
Let's start over: this was the year the great Master descended like a savior from the heavens, and brought with him the first light of a better life…
…
The Zhao estate was full of people.
Zhao Baihui and his four senior maids.
Seven or eight junior maids — those with family had been sent home to celebrate with their relatives. Those who remained had no one to go back to.
Twenty-three boys.
Zhao Baihui was firmly pushed into a chair and made to sit down, and with a great rustling, more than thirty people dropped to their knees in unison and kowtowed.
This was, once again, Jinyi's doing.
"This isn't a blessing — you're bleeding the master dry. All right, come up one by one and collect your red envelopes!"
"Thank you, Master." Jinyi was first. She opened her big red envelope and gasped — ten sheets of purplish-red hundred-yuan notes stared back at her.
One tael of silver bought roughly as much as a hundred yuan, which meant this was the equivalent of ten taels.
Jinyuan opened hers next and let out a cry: "A thousand yuan — a full thousand yuan!"
"Mine's a thousand too!"
Zhao Baihui had no taste for playing favorites. If they were all together to see in the New Year, then they were all family.
A thousand yuan apiece.
An ordinary person couldn't earn a single yuan in a day. In one gesture, he had handed out what amounted to several years' wages for the common folk.
"As for me," Zhao Baihui said, "I'm the same as all of you, really — one lone person in the world."
"Now, we lonely people have come together, and that means we all have family."
"I think of every one of you as a younger brother or sister — some of you, even as my own children. I ask nothing of you. I only hope you live well and happily."
A hush fell over the courtyard. Every nose began to prickle; every pair of eyes reddened.
"Come, one at a time. I've thought of names for all of you."
"Chunlan — come here. From now on, your name is Zhao Jinyi. I know your handwriting is beautiful and your singing is lovely. You have a true gift for the arts."
"Master!" Chunlan — no, Zhao Jinyi now — dropped to her knees, tears blurring her vision.
"Qiuju — you're a beauty. From now on, you're Zhao Jinyan."
…
"Number One — you are the steadiest of them all. I give you the name Zhao Mingcheng."
…
"Number Six — you silver-tongued rascal. Your name is Mingqiao."
"Number Seven and Number Eight — Mingjian and Mingwei…"
"Number Thirteen — you'll be Mingzhen…"
…
Working out names for seven girls and twenty-three boys had cost Zhao Baihui no small amount of mental effort. With him included, the core of the Zhao household had now grown to thirty-five people.
At last, Zhao Baihui pulled Jinxiu aside. "Jinxiu," he said, "ease up on bringing people home from now on. Many more and I'll run out of characters for names."
Jinxiu laughed. "Master, I originally planned that only those who performed well would be honored with a bestowed name. Who knew you'd be so soft-hearted and give everyone one? Now what am I supposed to use to motivate them?"
"Are you saying I was wrong?"
"Mm-hm. It was Master who was wrong."
"How can you be so completely unreasonable!"
"But didn't you always say that a girl should be a little unreasonable?"
"Fine, fine — I was wrong again."
"Hehe. Master, I won't go bringing people home so casually anymore. After all, there are too many little brothers and sisters now — I can barely keep up with them all."
"Good, good — let's settle it at that. Come on, it's almost time to eat. Let's all go make dumplings together!"