Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

Aunt Sun nodded in agreement. "That's true. The best-selling dishes at the eateries on the street are all meat dishes. The noodles are just steamed buns and soup noodles, cheap and filling."

Mother He sighed, "Such delicious pancakes, what a pity."

Zhang Sanlang scooped out the baked pancakes, cut them into small pieces, and had Ximei deliver some to each household. "It's no waste. If we eat them ourselves, it won't hurt. But if we sell them, we won't be willing to put oil and scallions in them."

The basin on the stove was almost empty. Zhang Sanlang patted the flour off his hands and glanced at the two bags of flour remaining on the cutting board. Three dou of flour, and in just two or three days, one dou was already gone.

He smiled, tied the bag of flour tightly, put it in the basket, and hung it on the beam. "We'll save the remaining thin noodles for the New Year."

At the end of October, all departments of the county government were busy with the winter sacrifice.

The rites room was located to the west of the main hall, one room smaller than the household rites room. Two rows of wooden shelves lined the wall, stacked with sacrificial records and examination documents from previous years. On a long table lay this year's winter sacrifice ritual notes, the ink still wet on the pages.

Zhou Qianxing sat behind his desk, several old files spread out in front of him, his brows furrowed. He held a pen in his hand, writing a few words on the paper and then crossing them out, then writing them again.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw Zhang Sanlang standing at the door. He quickly put down his pen and stood up. "Zhang Qianxing, you've finally arrived. Come in and sit down."

Zhang Sanlang walked in and sat down in the chair in front of the table. "Brother Zhou, how are the preparations for the winter sacrifice going?"

Zhou Qianxing sighed and pushed the old files over. "Several files from the Ritual Department are missing. I searched the storeroom for three days and only found half a set of ritual procedures, which was incomplete. The procedures for the winter festival, the number of items, and the participants don't match up in many places."

He rubbed his temples. "I'm fine with other matters in the rites department, such as official correspondence and social interactions with scholars. I'm not afraid of dealing with people. But I've never been involved in sacrificial ceremonies before. This is my first time organizing one, and I'm really not confident."

Zhang Sanlang picked up the tattered ceremonial manual and flipped through it. The pages were yellowed, the edges were curled, several pages were worm-eaten, and the handwriting was blurred. "Brother Zhou, what do you want me to do?"

"Go check the old files in the Personnel Office for me." Zhou Qianxing looked at him. "The Personnel Office has the most complete archives. They should have records of the names of the people who participated in the winter sacrifices and the amount of rewards given each year. You've been in the Personnel Office for many years, so you know the place better than I do."

Zhang Sanlang closed the instrument and stood up. "Okay. I'll go check."

The official's office was on the east side of the courtyard, with its door open.

Feng Jian was not present, so Fang Zhong'an sat at his desk copying documents, while Ma Tiesi checked the granaries in the corner.

Zhang Sanlang walked in and nodded to Fang Zhong'an. "Brother Fang, I'd like to check some old files. They're from the winter sacrifices in the Ministry of Rites."

Fang Zhong'an put down his pen, stood up, and walked to the wooden shelf. "What year is it from?"

"We need the ceremonial procedures, personnel lists, and reward amounts for the winter festivals over the past five years."

Fang Zhong'an was taken aback. "The records for the Winter Sacrifice? That's from the Rites Department. Why are you checking them in our Personnel Department?"

"Several old files from the Department of Rites are missing. Zhou Qianxing asked me to come to the Department of Personnel to look for copies." Zhang Sanlang looked at him. "The Department of Personnel keeps copies of all the documents filed by each department. Brother Fang has been in the Department of Personnel the longest, so you know best where these old files are locked."

Fang Zhong'an scratched his head, turned around and walked to the old wooden cabinet in the corner. He took a bunch of keys off his belt, searched for a while before picking one out and inserting it into the lock.

The lock was rusty, and after a couple of twists it wouldn't open, he put in a little more force, and it clicked open.

There were more than a dozen stacks of old files in the cabinet, the pages yellowed, the edges curled up, and covered with a thin layer of dust.

Fang Zhong'an squatted down and flipped through the books for a while, then pulled out a few, blew off the dust, and placed them on the table.

"The files from the last five years are all here. I'm afraid you can't find those from five years ago; the filers changed hands several times that year, and the archives were a mess. Take a look at these first, and if that's not enough, I'll go to the storeroom to search."

Zhang Sanlang took the file and said, "Thank you, Brother Fang."

Fang Zhong'an picked up the teapot on the table. "I'll go to the kitchen to get some water. You can take your time flipping through it."

He took the teapot and went out.

Zhang Sanlang opened the file and looked at it page by page.

Zhang Sanlang compared the records from the past five years page by page. The list of local gentry remained largely the same each year, with only minor changes. However, several official officials in the county government had been replaced, as they were, after all, visiting officials.

He copied down the few pages he needed, folded them neatly, and put them in his pocket.

When Fang Zhong'an returned carrying the teapot, Zhang Sanlang had already closed the file and stacked it back on the wooden shelf. "Brother Fang, I've finished reading the file. Thank you."

Fang Zhong'an poured him a bowl of hot tea. "Zhang Qianxing, you'll be going on the winter sacrifice day, right? Hufang Qianxing is supposed to attend the sacrifice as usual."

Zhang Sanlang didn't want to leave right away, so he took the teacup, took a sip, and said, "Go. Speaking of which, this is my first time participating in a sacrificial ceremony."

Fang Zhong'an lowered his voice, "I heard that Kong Yashi will also be attending this year's winter festival."

Zhang Sanlang put down his teacup and nodded.

After leaving the clerk's office, Zhang Sanlang returned to the household registration office.

He organized the copied winter ritual notes and rewrote them in tiny, neat characters, with each line written clearly.

After copying the last page, he put down his pen, blew on the ink to dry the copy, and walked towards the ceremonial room.

Zhou Qianxing took the copy and read it through from beginning to end. The worry on his face disappeared. "Zhang Qianxing, thanks to you. This set of ceremonial documents is even more complete than the one kept by the ceremonial office."

Zhang Sanlang waved his hand. "Brother Zhou, who were the officials who accompanied the sacrifice on the day of the winter ceremony?"

Zhou Qianxing opened the ceremonial register, his finger tracing the paper. "Each department's clerk or clerk. The Revenue Department is you, the Personnel Department is Song Zhao, the Rites Department is me, the Criminal Department is Kong You'an, the Military Department is Sun Zhonghe, and the Works Department is Yan Shizhong."

He paused, then added, "And there's Wu Yan from the county magistrate's office, leading archers to maintain order."

Zhou Qianxing closed the ritual implements, glanced at him, and said, "Zhang Qianxing, there will be many people and distractions on the day of the Winter Festival, so be careful. Kong You'an will also be there."

Zhang Sanlang smiled and said, "Brother Zhou, don't worry. Sacrificial rites are a grand ceremony; how could he dare to bring up minor personal grudges?"

Zhou Qianxing pondered for a moment, nodded and smiled, and said no more.

Winter festival day is here in the blink of an eye.

Before dawn, the terrace in front of the main hall of the county government office was already brightly lit.

Zhang Sanlang arrived at dawn. He had changed into a newly tailored gray cloth robe, with the cuffs neatly rolled up, waiting for the procession to line up for the sacrificial ceremony.

The terrace is three zhang wide, paved with blue bricks, with fresh soil sprinkled in the gaps, signifying reverence for heaven and ancestors and prayers for a bountiful harvest.

In the center was a long table covered with red silk, on which were placed three sacrificial animals: a sheep's head, a pig's head, and a fish, each served on a vermilion lacquered wooden plate. In front of the three sacrificial animals were five kinds of grains: millet, wheat, rice, beans, and hemp, each in a small container with red paper pasted on its opening.

Further ahead, fruits and vegetables such as dates, chestnuts, pears, and persimmons were neatly arranged. In front of the table were nine cups, already filled with wine.

A bronze incense burner was placed in the center of the long table.

Four archers stood on each side of the terrace, holding lanterns with the words "Winter Festival" written on them. The flames flickered inside the lanterns, casting a dim yellow light on the terrace.