Chapter 108: Chinese New Year
The snow had melted.
The air was moist.
Taking a deep breath, the lungs felt very comfortable.
Today was New Year’s Eve.
Many guests came to Jiang Mianmian’s home.
Her family received many gifts.
There were frozen fish, frozen pears, and tree branches that had been sanded smooth for children to play with, tied with red strings.
These were all gifts from the villagers.
A well-known old hunter in the village shyly brought out two frozen fish and said, “I don’t know what happened this year; the beasts in the mountains can’t be found anywhere. I don’t know where they went to hide, so I could only go to the water and catch a couple of fish.”
Qin Luoxia accepted them warmly and laughed, “Isn’t that so? It’s freezing; I reckon those beasts have all gone into hiding. Brother Liu is impressive to still be able to catch fish.”
After accepting the frozen fish, Qin Luoxia gave a return gift: a bag of sweet cakes, which were made by adding sugar to flour, shaping them into small balls, and baking them. They were durable and kept well.
Compared to frozen fish, these sweet cakes were quite presentable, as they required sugar and flour.
All the villagers who came to give gifts received a return gift.
On their way back, they couldn’t help but praise, “Sister-in-law Qin is a rare and honest person.”
Everyone who came to deliver things would see Jiang Yu helping to prepare food, and they would praise Sister Yu for being diligent and having good culinary skills.
Jiang Changtian and Jiang Feng were doing woodwork.
Black Tower was helping on the side.
Because Jiang Mianmian could walk now, seeing her tugging on the little white horse’s mane every day, she likely really wanted to ride a horse.
Jiang Changtian prepared to make a little wooden horse for his daughter.
Jiang Changtian was not skilled at woodwork, so this wooden horse was designed with the help of the former County Magistrate.
Come to think of it, the former County Magistrate was indeed a top student who had passed the imperial examinations.
Jiang Changtian explained his requirements: he wanted a wooden horse that his daughter could sit on, rock back and forth, and not fall off.
The former County Magistrate actually designed it.
He drew the plans for three days and three nights, designing it without sleep or rest, losing a little bit of hair in the process.
He was mainly afraid because he was still living in the rooms behind the county office. He wanted to give them up, but Lord Jiang didn’t want them.
However, watching what Lord Jiang had been doing lately, every time he thought about it, he lost a strand of hair. He had lost more hair recently than in the first half of his life.
On his first day at work, Lord Jiang hung a piece of calligraphy in the office.
“I examine myself three times a day.”
The former County Magistrate thought that Jiang the Second was indeed from the Jiang Family; although he hadn’t taken the imperial examinations, he certainly had the air of a scholar.
But upon seeing the full content of the calligraphy, he couldn’t stop his legs from cramping.
“I examine myself three times a day. Am I being too polite? Am I giving him too much face? Should I take action now?” (Note 1)
Every day, seeing this calligraphy, the former County Magistrate would reflect on whether he had done anything wrong, not well enough, or imperfectly today, where he needed to supplement, where he could improve, and where he could do better.
The subsequent actions of Jiang Changtian left the former County Magistrate even more dumbfounded.
The Rebels’ Lord Gong demanded two-thirds of everyone’s family wealth, and Jiang Changtian gradually had these valuable items escorted to the Rebels’ headquarters.
He kept detailed records, making it clear at a glance whose family each item belonged to and its value.
Then, he actually opened his mouth like a lion and demanded another two-thirds.
The guards left behind by Mr. Gang also had informants who felt that this Mr. Jiang was a greedy person. He was not polite at all to those wealthy families.
Furthermore, he fabricated pretexts to demand money, pinning charges on them one by one.
He made those wealthy families report each other’s wrongdoings, allowing the common people to seek redress for their grievances and settle their vendettas.
Now, the wealthy families in Ming County were wailing in misery, crying to heaven without response, and calling to the earth without an answer. Conversely, the common people were all clapping and cheering.
They even called Jiang Changtian “Lord Jiang the Just.” He was truly skilled at accumulating wealth, and he did so without causing chaos; he both gathered wealth and won the hearts of the people.
He was also completely loyal to his lord; among the goods submitted from various places, those from Ming County were the most appropriate and practical, with clear itemization.
Although Great Marshal Zi had never met Jiang Changtian, he was deeply impressed by the goods and account books that were sent.
Jiang Changtian actually didn’t do anything special; he simply applied the method he used to record medicinal herbs to the accounts sent to the Rebel leader.
Today was New Year’s Eve.
He returned home early.
Along the way, the common people sent him off with many gifts. His home was also piled with many gifts.
Seeing that Mr. Jiang was actually doing woodwork himself, the villagers felt he was a good person; even though he had gone to the county to become an official, he was still one of them.
It was said that Mr. Jiang’s background had also been inquired about; although he was not Old Madam Jiang’s biological son, he was a nephew of the Jiang Family. The late Lord Jiang had taken pity on an orphan of the clan and brought him home to raise, but unexpectedly, this displeased Old Madam Jiang, so she had been tormenting him ever since.
This news came from the former County Magistrate, so it shouldn’t be wrong; as a high-ranking official, he surely wouldn’t speak nonsense.
Poor Mr. Jiang was also a child from a good family, yet he suffered such a calamity. Those wealthy families had many ways to torment people that killed without drawing blood.
Whether it was the common people in the county or the villagers who came to give gifts, they all felt that Mr. Jiang was too pitiful.
Such a good person—good-looking, good character, and incredibly kind-hearted. As soon as he took office, he sought justice for the people, not hesitating to offend those wealthy families, yet he had suffered so much since childhood.
Currently, the person with the worst reputation in the county was Old Madam Jiang. She was ranked among the top three evil women, alongside the madam of the Lichun Brothel who forced good women into prostitution, and the wanton woman who, together with her lover, threw her son into the woodshed.
Old Madam Jiang probably didn’t know yet; recently, they had closed their doors, and except for necessary food and drink, they were not allowed to go out.
Jiang Mianmian sat expectantly on a small stool, watching Father, Elder Brother, and Uncle Black Tower help make her a wooden horse.
She had just mentioned a wooden horse, and she didn’t expect Father to actually remember it and even draw designs for her; he was so amazing.
Jiang Mianmian sat on the small stool, with Young Master Zi sitting beside her. Young Master Zi was lost in thought.
He thought that after his Father received his gift, he should come to pick him up soon. He was starting to want to go back.
At first, he wanted to stay because he didn’t want to listen to his teacher’s nagging, and he discovered that Little Turtle’s home seemed very interesting.
He wanted Little Turtle’s Mother to be his bodyguard, but he didn’t succeed. After observing for two days and realizing he wouldn’t succeed in the future either, he gave up.
But it seemed like Little Turtle hadn’t given up. Little Turtle seemed to really like him and grabbed him everywhere she went.
He sat there with some worry, not knowing if Little Turtle would cry when his Father came to pick him up.
She was too clingy to him, always grabbing him wherever she went. At every meal, she insisted on sharing her delicious green vegetables with him.
She was even clingier to him than the longevity turtle he kept.
Jiang Mianmian didn’t know the little brat was thinking so much; she grabbed him because Mother said he was so pitiful, having no Mother and a Father who didn’t care about him, so she should play with him more.
What could a little cub like her do? Anyway, it was just a matter of convenience; whatever she did, she just dragged him along to do it too.
Jiang Mianmian pulled Young Master Zi along to wait for Father to make her a wooden horse. Seeing Young Master Zi spacing out again, she said in her milky voice, “When it’s done, I’ll lend it to you to ride for a little bit.”
Young Master Zi thought about a person as big as him sitting on a wooden horse and rocking, and he felt a chill, shaking his head to refuse, “I’m not playing.”
Jiang Mianmian wasn’t annoyed; those rocking cars at the supermarket entrance were something no six-year-old could refuse, humph.
An hour later, Young Master Zi sat expressionlessly with Little Turtle on the wooden horse, which rocked back and forth. His body rocked along with it.
He thought he had ridden real horses, and this wooden horse was too silly. But the little green onion braid on Little Turtle’s head tickled his face.
He held Little Turtle, listening to her laughing “ha ha ha ha.” Watching the lanterns at the doorway swinging and swaying. It was New Year.
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