A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

On New Year's Eve, Lin Shubai was awakened by the sound of firecrackers.

He lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of firecrackers coming and going, and felt a pang of emotion. This was the first Spring Festival he had ever spent in this world.

In his past life, he spent the Spring Festival alone in his rented room, with the Spring Festival Gala playing in the background, grabbing takeout for a quick meal, sending a few New Year's greetings to his phone, and then continuing to write. Back then, he thought the New Year was just a date, and it didn't matter whether he celebrated it or not. But today is different.

The living room has changed. The Spring Festival couplets and the character "福" (good fortune) from yesterday are still there, but the doormat at the entrance has been replaced with a new one, red in color, with the words "Safe Travels" printed on it.

It was only morning, but Wang Xiulan was already busy in the kitchen.

"Mom, how many dishes are you making today?"

"There's so much! Braised fish, sweet and sour pork ribs, four-happiness meatballs, stir-fried greens, cucumber salad, fried spring rolls, and a family-reunion soup," Wang Xiulan counted on her fingers. "The fish has to be whole, not cut, so it's called 'abundance year after year.' The meatballs have to be four, so it's called 'four joys at the door.' The spring rolls are fried, so it's called 'ten thousand taels of gold.'"

Lin Shubai chuckled: "It really is true that every dish has its own interpretation."

"It's Chinese New Year, so we want good luck." Wang Xiulan covered the kneaded dough with a damp cloth and set it aside to rest.

After a while, Lin Jianguo walked in from the balcony, holding a red paper-cut window decoration with a paper-cut rabbit printed on it—this year is the Year of the Rabbit, 2011. He saw the mother and son making dumplings, walked over to look at the dumplings on the lid, and pointed to the ones Lin Shubai had made: "Who made these?"

"Me," Lin Shubai replied.

Lin Jianguo paused for a second, then said, "As long as it doesn't leak."

Lin Shubai felt that this statement was very tolerant.

I made about a hundred dumplings, which were neatly arranged on a bamboo mat and covered with a damp cloth, to be cooked in the evening.

Around 4 PM, Wang Xiulan started cooking. The aroma from the kitchen grew stronger and stronger, seeping out from under the door and filling the entire house. Lin Shubai set up a table in the living room—the small square table they usually used for meals wasn't big enough, so Lin Jianguo brought out a round tabletop from the balcony and placed it on top, turning it into a large round table. The round table symbolizes reunion, as Wang Xiulan had said.

Lin Jianguo took out the bottle of rice wine from the cabinet and placed it on the table. He also took out a bottle of cola, set out the bowls and chopsticks, and arranged the chairs in a circle. Everything was ready.

At 5:50, the last dish was ready.

"Come on, have a drink first." Lin Jianguo picked up his glass.

The three of them clinked glasses. Wang Xiulan put down her cup and picked up a piece of pork rib for Lin Jianguo. "Eat it while it's hot."

Wang Xiulan smiled, picked up a piece of green vegetable with her chopsticks, chewed it a couple of times, and suddenly remembered something, "Oh right, your grandma called today and told you to bring a book when you go to pay your respects tomorrow. She said she wants to show it to the neighbors."

"What book?"

"It's your book, 'Charlotte's Web.' She said that the old friend she brought with her read it last time and said it was well-written, so she wants to borrow it for her grandson."

Lin Shubai nodded: "Okay, then I'll bring two books tomorrow."

Lin Jianguo chimed in from the side, "Isn't there another book called 'The Little Prince'? Bring two copies too."

"It's not officially on sale yet, but please bring two sample copies."

"OK."

After eating for a while, Wang Xiulan stood up and went to the kitchen to make dumplings, and Lin Shubai followed to help carry them.

"Cut the dumplings three times and the noodles twice; this way, the dumpling skin will be chewy," Wang Xiulan said as she scooped out two plates of dumplings.

Around 7 p.m., the three of them were almost done eating. There was still quite a bit of food left on the table. Wang Xiulan flipped the fish over and said, "We can't finish the fish. We have to save it for tomorrow."

At 7:50, Wang Xiulan finished cleaning the kitchen, dried her hands, and came out to sit on the sofa. Lin Shubai sat next to her, and Lin Jianguo sat at the other end, holding a remote control in his hand. The channel had already been tuned to CCTV-1.

It's exactly eight o'clock.

As the familiar opening music played, the Spring Festival Gala stage appeared on the screen. Wang Xiulan took out a red paper bag from under the coffee table, pulled out three red envelopes—two large and one small—and handed the two large ones to Lin Shubai.

"This belongs to you and your dad."

Lin Shubai took it; it was much thicker than last year's.

"Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad."

A skit was performed on the Spring Festival Gala, performed by Uncle Benshan. Lin Shubai hadn't seen him on TV for a long time in his previous life.

He sat on the sofa, still holding the two red envelopes in his hands. The envelopes had a golden "福" (fortune) character printed on them, and they had a textured feel to the touch.

He hadn't received a red envelope in his past life for a long time. The children in the orphanage also received red envelopes, which were given by the orphanage. They contained ten yuan and were placed in envelopes with cartoon patterns. He had received those red envelopes many times, and each time he carefully tucked them under his pillow, reluctant to spend them. Later, when he grew up and started working, no one gave him red envelopes anymore.

The two red envelopes he holds now aren't about the money; they represent that someone cares about him.

He looked down at the two pieces of red paper and suddenly felt his eyes getting hot.

It's not being sentimental; it's the kind of impact that makes you realize, "So this is what it feels like to have a home."

Wang Xiulan was laughing so hard in front of the TV that she didn't notice his expression. Lin Jianguo was leaning back on the sofa with his eyes closed, and it was unclear whether he was asleep or listening.

Lin Shubai placed the red envelope on the coffee table, stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains slightly to look outside.

Snowing.

It was the kind of fine, crunchy snow that you see in southern winters, like grains of salt. It rarely snows in Shanghai during the Lunar New Year, but this year we had some.

Lin Shubai stood by the window and stretched out his hand, and snowflakes landed on his hand.

【Trigger Keywords】

[Snow + New Year's Eve Dinner]

【The New Year's Sacrifice (by Lu Xun)】

Luzhen, the blessing ceremony, the offerings on the stove, the smoke from incense and candles, the red paper scraps from firecrackers, snowflakes falling on the gray-white tiles, Xianglin's thin face, empty eyes, the scar on her forehead, the threshold she donated with her life savings, and the image of her collapsing on New Year's Eve in heavy snow.

The words flooded in like a tidal wave, overwhelming everything and casting a layer of gray and chilling cold over all the warm, festive, and red scenes.

"The end of the old lunar year is indeed the most like the end of the year; needless to say, it's in the villages and towns, and even the sky shows signs of the approaching New Year..."

"She's not from Luzhen..."

"I was so stupid, really..."

"No, you didn't do it on purpose, you did it willingly..."

"Xianglin's wife believed it, and worked tirelessly every day until she saved up twelve silver dollars, which she then donated to the local temple to erect a threshold. She thought she was now innocent, and during the winter solstice sacrifice, she calmly went to get the wine cup and chopsticks..."

"Master Lu dismissed her from her job. She became a beggar and froze to death amidst the sounds of firecrackers and snow in Luzhen as families prepared for the New Year's Eve dinner and celebrated the New Year..."

"From then on, Fourth Aunt never mentioned Xianglin's Wife again..."