Chapter 18: The New Year

“Master, do you think Master Zhu will let the kitchen cook braised pork this New Year’s Eve? I heard they brought in two whole pigs yesterday.”

Wang Zhao spoke with shining eyes.

He could even still smell the aroma of last year’s braised pork.

That flavor, no matter how many years pass, he’d never forget.

Ordinary people in Qinghe might eat meat only once a year, but in the Zhu household it was possible—this was why some were willing to sell themselves into slavery.

Li Rui gave Wang Zhao a knuckle bump.

“All you think about is eating.”

“By the way, have you remembered everything I taught you—adding beans and eggs, and how to tell if a horse has a bloated belly?”

Wang Zhao nodded proudly: “I remembered it all.”

My master is so kind!

These were all the stable hands’ most secret knowledge, and he’d dumped it all on me.

But soon, Wang Zhao seemed to realize something, and his face fell into a gloom.

“Master, are you going to die?”

“Please don’t die. Not until after the New Year, at least.”

He’d often heard the village elders say that before death, a person gets a premonition—his great-grandfather had put on clean clothes and gone to bed himself before he passed.

Master’s behavior these past few days all looked like he was making final arrangements.

Li Rui glared at Wang Zhao: “You little brat, are you cursing me to die?”

Seeing his master’s reaction, Wang Zhao relaxed.

Li Rui looked at Wang Zhao’s carefree face and sighed inwardly.

Their master-disciple bond was at its end.

With his current strength, getting himself out was already a miracle—he couldn’t possibly take Wang Zhao with him. The Zhu family was the top household in Qinghe, and he couldn’t afford to cross them.

After he bought his freedom, Wang Zhao would likely become the new stable hand.

That position was originally meant for Ma Yang, but he was too eager—and ended up losing his life because of it.

As for Old Yang, no special arrangements were needed.

Yang Yong was already a guard, with decent standing in the Zhu household; he’d just need a few drinks.

He’d already arranged everything.

“Tomorrow is the day I buy my freedom.”

The Zhu family was a major household with countless customs; preparations for the New Year had begun a full month ago.

Opening the ancestral hall, cleaning, tidying the ritual vessels, inviting the ancestral tablets, replacing peach charms.

The New Year was a family’s most important event—it couldn’t be taken lightly, for it reflected family values, and if mishandled, other families in town would mock them for a year.

Not only did Lady Zhu push hard, but Master Zhu himself often came to inquire personally.

It all lasted until the twenty-ninth.

That is, today.

On this day, the master’s household usually showed mercy by granting servants a day off; in families with better morals, the head would even pay to treat the year’s hardworking servants to a good meal.

Last year’s braised pork had been eaten at this time.

But this year was different.

Because someone in the Zhu household was about to turn seventy.

According to Yu Kingdom law, seventy was a sign of auspiciousness, and local officials were required to visit in person—but today, the visitor to the Zhu residence was not the County Magistrate, but the Jail Warden, the fourth-ranking official in the government office.

“Master Ma’s visit brings honor to our humble home.”

Master Zhu, Zhu Ping, greeted him personally.

The Zhu family’s business was large, but it relied on the county government office’s help; naturally, they treated these officials with courtesy.

Master Ma was a thin, middle-aged man.

Ten years ago, at forty, he passed the provincial examination and became a Provincial Graduate, then took up the post of Jail Warden—a position responsible for local rites and laws.

“Master Zhu, I hear your household has a septuagenarian. I’ve been sent by Magistrate Zhang to pay a visit.”

Zhu Ping’s already small eyes vanished into a smile: “Yes, it’s our stable hand, Li Rui—he’ll turn seventy come spring.”

Someone living to seventy was a matter worthy of being recorded in the county annals.

The Zhu family would gain prestige from it.

More importantly, in ancient times, it was a symbol of family prosperity.

That was why Zhu Ping had treated Li Rui fairly over the years—he’d been afraid Li Rui wouldn’t live to seventy.

He then invited Master Ma into the main hall.

And ordered the steward to bring Li Rui.

How could a court official, even at seventy, be expected to walk to meet a servant? That would be a disgrace!

Soon, Li Rui was brought in by the Zhu steward.

Seeing the man seated beside Master Zhu on the main seat, he immediately recognized him as the Jail Warden.

He bowed his head to kneel.

Master Ma waved his hand ahead of time: “At seventy, you needn’t bow to me—I couldn’t bear it.”

Hearing this, Li Rui straightened his back.

Master Ma chuckled: “You’re Li Rui, about to turn seventy come spring?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Excellent, excellent. With Elder Li alive, it shows Qinghe is well-governed, and our great Yu is peaceful and prosperous.”

Master Ma was in high spirits.

A septuagenarian under his jurisdiction meant another achievement to add to his record.

Achievements piled one by one—perhaps someday he could become a Registrar, even an Assistant County Magistrate.

As for County Magistrate? He dared not even dream of it.

A poor scholar like him, making it to Assistant County Magistrate was already ancestral smoke rising from the grave.

Master Zhu, Zhu Ping, also wore a broad smile.

For Master Ma, this was an achievement; for him, it was proof of good household management. The Zhu family had risen from an obscure minor clan to Qinghe’s foremost household in just thirty years.

Besides the boldness and grit of the two Zhu brothers in their youth, it was also due to Zhu Ping’s emphasis on family discipline.

He knew clearly: if he wanted the Zhu family to become one of those century-old, even millennium-old great clans,

family values mattered.

The servants from those great clans were more dignified than the legitimate heirs of minor families—that was the difference in household management.

That was why he strongly disapproved of his younger brother’s behavior.

Engaging in shady dealings was no lasting path.

Master Ma then asked Li Rui a series of warm, caring questions, expressing the magistrate’s “concern” for his people.

Of course, it was only words.

Li Rui was also sensible, and made no demands that would embarrass Master Ma.

Master Ma couldn’t help but sigh—if all Qinghe’s people were as agreeable and obedient as this old man, how wonderful it would be.

He turned to Zhu Ping and signaled him to begin the final ritual of the day.

Zhu Ping smiled broadly.

“Old Li, how has the Zhu family treated you?”

“Master has treated me exceedingly well.”

Hearing Li Rui’s answer, Zhu Ping was even more satisfied.

“Old Li, let’s see—you’ve been with the Zhu family for fifty years now, serving three generations. Your service is great. If you wish, you may stay; if not, you may leave.”

Zhu Ping spoke with complete confidence.

Li Rui was already seventy. Outside the Zhu household, he couldn’t even till the soil, and he had no wife or children—a widower with nowhere to go. Why would he leave?

That was why he was so certain.

But Li Rui shook his head.

“I do not wish to stay.”

“I beg Master’s grace to release me from slavery.”

(End of Chapter)