Chapter 35: Sworn Siblings
On New Year’s Eve, families celebrated reunions. The Zhan family door was adorned with a “Fu” character, signifying blessings for the coming year. Window decorations were pasted on every window, hand-cut by Zhan Li, except Zhan Qiyu’s room. His window decorations were crooked, discarded practice pieces from Mu Jiaojiao. He’d secretly had A Liu retrieve them. He now forbade Mu Jiaojiao from entering his room, claiming she’d disrupt his studies. The decorations were placed where he could easily see them; each time he tired from studying, he’d look at them, feeling as if Mu Jiaojiao were smiling.
That evening, they ate hot pot together. They used the same earthenware pot, but the winter meal felt vastly different from summer. Mu Jiaojiao had lived there for several months and considered it her home, despite its simplicity. It was full of warmth. They looked out for each other, helping each other, perhaps bickering occasionally, but never holding grudges.
Each had a small cup of Huadiao wine. Raising her cup to Zhan Qiyu, Mu Jiaojiao said, “Brother Zhan, thank you for this year. This toast is for you.”
She drank a large gulp, her face burning. She forced a smile.
Zhan Qiyu stared at her, watching her cheeks turn crimson. “Slow down,” he said, his voice gentler than usual. His usual aloofness was absent, replaced by an unusual softness.
Mu Jiaojiao continued, “Brother Zhan, I’m deeply grateful. Without you, I…” she laughed, then spoke what she’d been wanting to say all day, “Brother Zhan, I want to become sworn siblings with you!”
Zhan Qiyu’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes cooled. A Liu, dropping meatballs into the pot, fumbled. Shancha, secretly drinking, almost choked. Zhan Li’s smile froze.
The entire family was stunned. Why the sudden proposal of sworn brotherhood?
Everyone looked at Zhan Qiyu, anticipating his reaction.
He simply smiled, “Why do you want to become sworn siblings with me?”
He wasn’t angry, finding it implied Mu Jiaojiao didn’t want to leave him.
Mu Jiaojiao paused, unable to articulate a reason. After another drink, her words became slurred. “I haven’t thought it through yet.”
His jaw tightened slightly; he looked at her flushed face and wine cup, then nodded. “Tell me when you’ve decided.”
The proposal was thus glossed over. Everyone sympathetically looked at Mu Jiaojiao, sensing she’d be controlled. The slightly inebriated girl remained oblivious, smiling and serving Zhan Qiyu food. Only her benefactor was in her heart.
They resumed eating, everyone relieved. It was a private matter, best left undisturbed.
The incident passed; laughter resumed. Like any ordinary family, they discussed everyday matters: marriages, births, scandals—the typical gossip.
Zhan Qiyu, who usually cautioned against gossiping, remained silent, his heart content. He occasionally served his mother and discreetly served Mu Jiaojiao, his face turning red after half a cup of wine.
The hot pot’s steam made everyone’s faces flush.
After dinner, they played leaf cards. A Liu and Shancha had made them from bamboo.
Mu Jiaojiao felt dizzy and asked Zhan Qiyu to watch her game, though he didn’t play himself. His gaze, however, wasn’t on the cards, but on her back and neck. He longed to embrace her, even for a moment.
After some time, fireworks went off. They went outside. The courtyard was too small for fireworks, so A Liu brought out wish lanterns.
Zhan Qiyu had made five, one for each person, to write their wishes and release.
Though tipsy, Mu Jiaojiao wanted to release a lantern. Her hand trembled; Zhan Qiyu held her hand.
The moment her hand was enveloped, she looked up at his face. His breath brushed her ear. His low, cool voice whispered, “What wish do you want to make? Tell me.”
The voice was slightly seductive. The cold wind carried his words to her ears, making her mind even more hazy.
“Tell me, and I’ll write it for you,” he repeated, guiding her.
Mu Jiaojiao, acting on instinct, said, “I wish Brother Zhan will pass the imperial examination with flying colors, find a wonderful partner, remain healthy, and live a long life.”
The man holding her hand paused, his gaze softening. The ice melted. His warm breath again touched her ear. “Good. I’ll write it for you.”
The others understood and left the house for the couple.
Their intertwined hands wrote the wish on the lantern. Mu Jiaojiao, completely drunk, vaguely saw the words, seemingly “never to be separated.”
“Let’s release it together.”
He had Mu Jiaojiao hold the top, lighting the candle below. The light illuminated their faces as they looked at each other. The heated lantern revealed the words: “Together until old age.” This was his wish.
He would fulfill hers; only he needed to make a wish.
Mu Jiaojiao stared into his eyes, reflecting the firelight and a single figure, mirroring her own reflection.
The lantern, buffeted by the wind, seemed to struggle. Zhan Qiyu said to let go. The lantern soared into the night sky.
A few other lanterns rose, shining brightly in the darkness. Children pointed, “Look, lanterns!”
Some adults recognized them as wish lanterns and urged their children to make wishes. A child wished for endless candy.
The lantern drifted away, vanishing in the distance.
The year ended. Mu Jiaojiao fell asleep. Zhan Qiyu carried her to her room, watching her for a while before gently touching her face, tucking her in, and leaving.
The rest of the Zhan family returned to open their gifts.
Zhan Li received a black jade hairpin. As a maid, she’d seen her mistress’s similar hairpin; it was black but appeared green in the light, very valuable. She kept it carefully; it was from Jiaojiao.
A Liu received a small jeweled dagger; the blade was incredibly sharp. It was a gift from Mu Ming to his daughter, with a red gem.
Shancha received a golden pendant with a red cord, a knot tied by Zhan Li, taught by Mu Jiaojiao.
Zhan Qiyu held a piece of smooth white jade; the intricate carvings were exquisitely done. The jade felt cool and smooth. His expression was complex, hiding deep emotion. He hoped to receive gifts from her every year.
The three Mu men were thoroughly drunk, having eaten Mu Jiaojiao’s sweet dumplings. They began to talk about their daughter.
Mu Ming said, “Before she passed, my daughter found me a champion fighting cricket. It was truly amazing.” He had quit cricket fighting, only occasionally remembering the cricket his daughter had given him.
Mu Yun’s eyes were red, “My sister took my journal. I was angry, but then I realized it had been noted by many. I shouldn’t have been angry with her.”
Finally, Mu Ming ate a dumpling and drank, his voice hoarse, “It’s all my fault. I should have cared more for my daughter.”
Only then did the Mu men speak of their lost daughter.
They eventually passed out on the kang. There was no festive atmosphere; it was a year of loss.
Someone put them to bed. It was a year of loss; future New Years would be without Mu Jiaojiao.
The next morning, Mu Jiaojiao woke to Shancha watching her. She had mumbled about her benefactor all night.
“Miss, wake up. We’re having dumplings.”
Mu Jiaojiao, still dizzy, rose, put on her red cotton-padded jacket, and pinned a red flower, looking radiant. Shancha gave her hangover tea from A Liu, who showed her his new, heavy money pouch. Shancha laughed, wishing him a prosperous New Year.
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