On New Year’s Eve, Yezi’s mother prepared a table full of authentic Miao family dishes and invited Zhu Shijun and Xiao Xian for dinner. Although the two families had only known each other for a year, they felt like they had gained an extra relative. During the festive season, Zhu Shijun didn’t want Xiao Xian to just have a meal with him with cold dishes and soup, so he accepted Yezi’s mother’s invitation.
After dinner, it was inevitable that the adults would enjoy drinks, while Xiao Xian ate until her belly was round and felt so full that it seemed to reach her throat just by sitting.
"Xiao Xian, let’s go out and set off firecrackers," Yezi made a goofy face at Xiao Xian, holding a few boxes of new-style firecrackers she had never seen before, different from the string of five hundred firecrackers that San Gouzi brought over last New Year.
A few days earlier, Yibar had gone into town, and after selling pigeons and pigeon eggs, he brought back a few boxes of fireworks from the city for Yezi, which were said to be particularly eye-catching when played at night. Upon hearing from Mama that they were going to invite the Zhu Family to celebrate the New Year together, Yezi prized them like treasures, keeping them hidden until New Year’s Eve, and never willing to share even one with any of her friends.
The end-of-year dusting was over, and the open space under the suspension house had been tidied up, making it an excellent spot for setting off firecrackers.
Yezi took two sticks of incense from under the ancestral worship table, lit one end, and handed one to Xiao Xian.
"This is a rolling landmine; once lit and thrown on the ground, it rolls around like a wheel of fire," Yezi said fondly as she handed a box to Xiao Xian.
Xiao Xian still remembered the last time the firecrackers went off with a thunderous bang, and after the Ninth Heavenly Thunder, she was rather unsettled by the sound of thunder.
Yezi, eager to go first, took one called a sky rocket, holding it in her hand—a firework attached to a thin bamboo stick dyed festive red. When played, one would gently pinch the bamboo stick with two fingers, light the fuse, and let go immediately, the firework would soar into the sky, emitting a whistle-like sound before bursting loudly midair.
Yezi’s face, occasionally illuminated by the bright fireworks, looked unreal in the glow.
The firecrackers and fireworks gave Xiao Xian a kind of illusion; the past year seemed like a dream, and after that lightning, she left the Yunteng Sect; suddenly, a face flashed through her mind. It was Brother Yun Guanzi; Xiao Xian suddenly widened her eyes, remembering a fragment she had missed.
That Heavenly Thunder that came from the sky, and when it struck the firewood house, she saw a face—Why was Brother Yun Guanzi there?
"Xiao Xian, why aren’t you playing? Are you feeling silly from eating too much?" Yezi teased, waving the incense stick in front of Xiao Xian.
"You’re the silly one," Xiao Xian retorted fiercely, her face tigerish. Besides Beast Taming, Yezi had another talent: provoking Xiao Xian to instant rage.
She grabbed a "rolling landmine," lit it, and threw it towards Yezi. Yezi, laughing, jumped to one side. The "rolling landmine" emitted a puff of white smoke and began to spin on the ground like a top. White, yellow, and red sparks sprayed out—a truly beautiful sight to behold on this calamitous night.
"Mama, don’t worry, there are many Chinese restaurants in the United States, and I’ve already made plans to celebrate the New Year’s Eve dinner with some classmates. Tell Papa not to worry; I have enough money. Okay, I’ll go now," Zhou Ziang had just hung up the phone in a small town near New York City—Ithaca. After entering winter, he walked back to the study room in Cornell University’s library and stood in front of the rows of floor-to-ceiling windows.
It had been three months since Zhou Ziang entered, and the American culture, so different from China’s, had initially unsettled even him, who usually adapted easily. To quickly get used to life abroad, he chose to spend the New Year in the United States. He was fine with it, but when Xi Lijuan at home heard the news, she almost flew across the ocean to the United States.
An afternoon of reading made Zhou Ziang’s eyes ache. He massaged his temples and looked out far and wide. Cornell University’s campus was beautiful, and even in winter, there were lush trees everywhere, which made it much more comfortable than the steel jungle of Shanghai or the bustling Beijing.
In the past three months, he had to not only adapt to an all-English teaching environment but also face the competition from outstanding students from various countries. However, none of this defeated Zhou Ziang; on the contrary, compared to the educational model of international academies and key domestic high schools, he found he was more suited to the seemingly relaxed, yet constantly competitive atmosphere of universities abroad.