Chapter 323: New Spring of 1964

The dazzling white snow covered the courtyard house's blue bricks and gray tiles, and the icicles hanging from the eaves glinted with a cold light in the thin sunlight. In the howling north wind, at last a whiff of bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new was carried in—1964's Spring Festival, stepping on the deep snow, arrived silently.

Li Ping'an stood at the entrance of the West Wing Courtyard, watching his son Yaozong and a few neighborhood kids chase each other in a snowball fight, feeling a certain wistfulness.

He was thirty‑five. Time slipped by; having come into this world, built a family, raised children, he had unwittingly entered middle age. Fortunately, he had the Spiritual Spring Space at his side, a beloved wife and young children at his knee; his life was steadier and more prosperous than that of most.

For Chinese people, the New Year is a ritual etched into the bone. Even in materially scarce times, they strive to create a festive and abundant atmosphere.

Li Ping'an naturally would not shortchange his own family. A few days early, under the pretext of "trying his luck at the black market," he took from the Spiritual Spring Space a generous amount of pork belly, a cleaned large rooster, and two plump ducks.

The meat produced by the space was far superior to ordinary market fare; the pork was bright red with a perfect fat‑lean balance, clearly top‑grade; the chicken and ducks had glossy feathers (pre‑processed before removal) and a plump physique.

He also sent an equally sized portion to his sister Li Pingle's family. Chen Jianghe and Li Pingle were both surprised and a bit embarrassed by the rare New Year provisions. Li Ping'an simply waved his hand: "Take it, it's New Year, let the children eat well." This unassuming care warmed his sister's household.

On New Year's Eve, the West Wing Courtyard was especially busy and warm. Lin Xueqing tied on an apron and clanged about in the kitchen preparing the reunion dinner. The filling—pre‑mixed cabbage and pork—gave off a meat aroma mingled with the sharp scent of scallion and ginger, prompting little Yaozong to slip into the kitchen now and then to sniff.

In the afternoon, the whole family mobilized to make dumplings together. Li Ping'an rolled out the skins with lightning speed, producing round, even wrappers; Lin Xueqing and aunt handled the folding, placing the ingot‑shaped dumplings neatly on the covering cloth; even little Yaozong washed his hands and clumsily mimicked his mother's motions, crooked but full of enthusiasm. Xiao Nuanqing sat in a specially made baby chair, watching the bustling family, cooing and waving her tiny hands.

Li Ping'an even made a special trip to the department store, using saved fabric vouchers to bring back several yards of bright‑colored, thick velvet and floral brocade fabric.

Lin Xueqing, skillful with her hands, spent two evenings crafting a crisp velvet coat for her son and a pink floral brocade cotton padded jacket for her daughter. On New Year's Eve, after changing into the new clothes, the two youngsters rolled joyfully on the kang.

Compared with the abundance and order of the West Wing Courtyard, the other families in the courtyard house lived a different scene, their busyness tinged with personal scheming and hardship.

In the Front Courtyard, the Yan Bu Gui family's one of the New Year highlights remained Yan Bu Gui's "spring‑couplet business." He set up a table early in the courtyard, with brush, ink, paper and inkstone ready. As usual, writing a pair of spring couplets cost nothing, but required a little "ink‑wetting" — a handful of peanuts or a pinch of sunflower seeds.

Wearing his broken‑leg glasses, he wrote meticulously while precisely calculating the cost and profit of each couplet, tallying how many snacks he could stash away for the year.

In the Central Courtyard, the Jia family still faced a tough year‑end. Qin Huairu, though transferred to logistics with a raise and occasional extra "benefits" from Li Huaide, could not cope with a bottomless‑pit mother‑in‑law and an increasingly gluttonous, demanding Bang Geng at home. Watching other families prepare their New Year goods, Bang Geng began to cause trouble in ever more creative ways.

Jia Zhangshi mulled over possibilities and settled on First Elder Yi Zhonghai. She grabbed Qin Huairu and proactively went to Yi Zhonghai's house.

"He's a First Elder, look at this cold kitchen during the big New Year… When Dongxu was here, he spent every year celebrating with you and the old sister‑in‑law. Now he's gone, and we women… how are we supposed to spend the year?" Jia Zhangshi said, beginning to wipe away nonexistent tears. "How about we celebrate together this year? It would honor Dongxu's and your master‑disciple bond, and Bang Geng could even bow to his grandfather!"

Her words were artful, playing the emotional card, pointing out Yi Zhonghai as Bang Geng's grandfather and Jia Dongxu's master, while hinting that a joint celebration would save the Jia family their own meat dishes and let them piggyback on Yi Zhonghai's presumably richer New Year provisions.

Yi Zhonghai looked at Jia Zhangshi's demeanor, then at the down‑cast Qin Huairu, his heart as clear as a mirror. He had no children, truly yearning for such familial bustle, and had long tried to sustain a sense of emotional attachment and moral superiority by assisting the Jia family.

He hesitated briefly, glanced at the Er Da Ma beside him, saw his spouse give a slight nod, and sighed, "Alright, then we'll celebrate together. Huairu, come over and lend a hand."

Qin Huairu whispered her assent, yet felt little gratitude, only a sense of humiliation and numbness. She knew she and her mother‑in‑law were again exploiting Yi Zhonghai's sympathy, but for the children, for a decent New Year, she could only acquiesce.

Yet, deep in her drooping eyes, the darkness born of life's hardships and power trades seemed to thicken. Her demands of Li Huaide were no longer limited to a post transfer or occasional perks; she began probing for more—better job positions (even if merely titular), or more tangible vouchers and cash. She walked farther along the tightrope of using and being used, and her heart grew increasingly hard.

In the back courtyard, Liu Haizhong's family was especially desolate this year. The shadow of his eldest son Liu Guangqi's embezzlement and flight still loomed over the household, and Second Elder Liu Haizhong had completely lost his former vigor.

Er Da Ma prepared a modest amount of New Year goods, yet the home lacked any festive atmosphere. Liu Guangtian and Liu Guangfu harbored deeper resentment toward the ruthless elder brother and grew increasingly disappointed with the family.

The Sha Zhu family, however, was lively; he leveraged his specialty to arrange a dinner table that wasn't lavish but absolutely hearty, and together with Ma Dongmei and their two sons, they enjoyed a flavorful celebration.

Night fell, the ornamental lights first lit up. Sporadic firecracker sounds began to echo in every corner of Beijing City, dispelling the old year's chill.

In the West Wing Courtyard, the sumptuous reunion dinner filled the tables, with steaming dumplings at the center. Li Ping'an poured a glass of juice for his wife and a small cup of white wine for himself. The family sat together, the light warm, laughter and chatter abundant.

"Cheers, to our family, to the new year, peace and smoothness!" Li Ping'an raised his cup, his gaze sweeping over his wife's gentle face, his son's excited eyes, his daughter's innocent smile.

"Peace and safety!" Lin Xueqing laughed in agreement, and little Yaozong mimicked the adults, raising his tiny bowl.

Outside, the cold wind persisted, and the courtyard houses' lights flickered, reflecting the world's joys, sorrows, partings, scheming, and warmth. The Spring Festival of 1964 arrived silently amid the aroma of dumplings, sporadic firecrackers, and the unseen undercurrent flowing.