Chapter 119

The firecracker debris from New Year's Day hadn't been swept away yet, and on the second day Beiping saw snowflakes drifting again. Ping Le leaned on the windowsill, breathed out, and instantly a white plum blossom appeared on the glass.

Brother, look, the snowflakes are dancing!

Li Ping'an added a handful of firewood to the stove, the aroma of rice porridge mingling with steam as it drifted through the house. Today the snow is heavy, so we won't set up the stall. He stirred the pot bottom, worried it would stick.

Can I go to Su Shifu's to learn sewing? Ping Le turned her head, and the end of her braid swept the windowsill, bringing down a few bits of packed snow. The day before yesterday I promised to bring her some preserved tofu.

Li Ping'an glanced out the window. A vast curtain of snow, the footprints in the alley almost covered. Let's go again at noon, Brother will accompany you. He ladled out the porridge that had rendered rice oil, golden and glistening.

Ping Le puffed her cheeks blowing on the hot porridge: I'm eleven already! Just turn the corner at the alley entrance and you're there... She stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide, and asked, 'Brother, are you afraid I'll fall?'

The ceramic spoon tapped the bowl's rim with a clear sound. Li Ping'an picked a piece of pickled melon for his sister: Eat slowly. Today is the fifth day, welcoming the God of Wealth, the streets are crowded.

Ping Le believed him, immediately counting on her fingers: Then we'll bring some preserved dishes to Su Shifu's for a New Year visit! She loves our preserved duck gizzards... Right! We also need to send her the chubby baby New Year picture!

After breakfast the snow eased, the alley in the glazed world looked like an ink-wash New Year painting. Ping Le wore a new cotton jacket, carried a small bamboo basket covered with blue-flowered cloth, and every few steps she turned back to urge him on.

Brother, quick look! The icicles on the eaves look like candied hawthorn!

Li Ping'an carried the New Year gifts and followed behind, deliberately detouring around the ice at the corner. When he saw the new door-god picture posted on Su's gate, Ping Le exclaimed happily: Qin Shubao's eyes will move! Last time it was Yuchi Gong!

The vermilion-lacquered door creaked open, and a woman with her hair coiled in a round bun smiled and waved: I heard your little chirps from afar! Come in and warm yourself by the fire!

In the warm side room, the sewing basket sat on the kang table. Su Shifu took Ping Le's hand to try the newly sewn cotton gloves: Look, we've added rabbit fur to the fingertips so your hands won't freeze while writing.

Ping Le happily rubbed the fur trim: Master Su, your hands are so skilled! Much better than my brother's sewing!

Li Ping'an scratched his head sheepishly: At least the socks I sew don't leak at the toes.

The three of them laughed. A few sparks popped up in the charcoal brazier, and Su Shifu took the basket of preserved foods: You've brought so much again, enough to last me until the fifteenth of the first month.

She turned and took out a red cloth bundle from the chest: a overdress I made for Ping Le, to wear in early spring.

Ping Le opened it to see: on the moon-white fabric were embroidered soft pink peach blossoms. Do you like it? Su Shifu's eyes crinkled with a smile: Our Ping Le is now a young lady.

As they were leaving, Ping Le clung to the doorframe: Master Su, on the eighth we'll come pick you up to go to the factory fair!

On the way back the snow started falling again. Ping Le shoved the hand warmer into her brother's hands, while she held aloft the malt sugar candy horse Su Shifu had given her.

Brother, are we really going to the temple fair tomorrow?

Hmm, I'll take you to see the puppet show.

Ping Le jumped up, the sugar painting almost poking the icicle under the eaves: We also want to go ice skating at Beihai! I heard this year's skating rink has ice lanterns!

On the third day, just as dawn was breaking, Ping Le jumped off the kang to comb her hair. Her two braids were smoothed to a shine, and she insisted on tying them with a red string.

Li Ping'an stuffed a handful of peanuts into her pocket: What's the rush? The temple fair isn't going anywhere.

Even if it's not going anywhere, we still need to go early! Ping Le hurriedly pulled on her cotton shoes; if she's late, the good seats for the puppet show will be snatched away!

The factory fair temple fair was packed with people. The candied hawthorn grass target stood taller than the eaves, and the blown-sugar stall was surrounded by children. Ping Le held up her windmill and pushed forward, the red string on the ends of her braids hopping up and down in the wind.

Brother! I want to see the dough figurine maker!

The artisan's palms flipped and flew, in the blink of an eye pinching out a chubby doll in a red jacket. Ping Le stared, wide-eyed: Doesn't it look like the one from the New Year picture?

Li Ping'an produced some copper coins: Just like you when you were little.

No way! Ping Le scrunched her nose: When I was little I was much daintier than this!

At noon they ate stewed wheat cakes at the stall; Ping Le felt the spice, sniffling and wanting more chili oil. Li Ping'an scooped the chili oil from her bowl into his own: Later he'll get angry and get a nosebleed.

In the afternoon they toured the Gugong. Red walls and yellow tiles covered in snow, Ping Le tiptoed to touch the brass studs on the palace gate: Brother, do you think the emperors of old ate dumplings for the New Year?

Sure, have some—three precious sea delicacies, dragon meat and phoenix liver!

Li Ping'an brushed the snow from her shoulder, and surely the filling is more than ours, all delicacies we dare not imagine!

Ping Le counted on her fingers: There should be pork and cabbage, mutton and carrot, three-fresh filling... maybe even venison filling! As she spoke, she drooled.

As the sun slanted westward, they walked back along the Canal River. Children skated on the ice, their laughter bouncing off the red walls and echoing back.

Ping Le suddenly stopped: Brother, let's come again next year.

All right. Li Ping'an squatted down to tighten her cotton shoe laces, year after year we'll come.

On the way home they ran into a stall selling tangyuan, and Ping Le couldn't move her feet. 'The ones with green-silk rose filling, Brother?'

They bought two catties, and added a packet of osmanthus sugar. Ping Le hugged the paper packet, humming a little tune, when she suddenly cried out 'ouch!'

Her shoelace had come undone.

Li Ping'an knelt in the snow to tie her shoelace. Ping Le fed him a sugar-roasted chestnut: Brother, you're the best.

As dusk settled, cooking smoke rose from the alley. Light glowed from every window, and laughter burst out now and then.

Ping Le suddenly said: Brother, I'm starting to miss Mom and Dad.

Li Ping'an gripped her hand tightly: They're watching over us. When the world is at peace, we'll return to our Henan hometown, offer incense to our parents, and tell them I've found you back, and that we're doing well now.

Mm. Ping Le nodded heavily, watching us spend a good year.

Red paper cutouts were pasted bright red on the glass, and the scent of Red Braised Pork drifted from inside. Ping Le bounced over to push the courtyard gate: Brother, shall we fry meatballs tomorrow?

Fry. Li Ping'an brushed the snow off her, fry a few more to give some to Su Shifu.

The snow fell again, quietly covering the footprints on the ground. Only a string of cheerful laughter lingered, long and long, in the air thick with New Year spirit.

This year has been truly solid. Before sleep, Ping Le hugged the cloth tiger and murmured.

Li Ping'an tucked in the blanket corner for her.

Yes, being solid is best.

Moonlight shone on the paper-cut magpie on the window lattice, its wings trembling lightly, as if about to fly toward next year.