Chapter 52: Gifting Couplets

The group of people returned to the Prince's Mansion carrying the couplets they had written, feeling thoroughly satisfied. Tomorrow would be the very last day before the turn of the year. The Year-end Festival was, in essence, the Lunar New Year. Though it was hard to recall precisely when the tradition of celebrating the New Year had begun, such festivals seemed already carved into the genes of the Chinese people. Yancheng had also grown slightly livelier, with more people on the streets as small peddlers and vendors emerged. Although the common folk had lived through a bitter year, ever since the arrival of the Prince of Yan, this frontier city seemed to have undergone a transformation. A young imperial prince had brought a youthful vigor to the place. In the past, once the autumn harvest was over, everyone had nothing left to do. But this year was entirely different: some people had gone to the Western Hills to mine coal, some to the northern mountains to dig for iron ore, some to the coast to harvest salt by solar evaporation, and others to the smelting works and salt-refining workshops. Many had found employment. Moreover, even during the so-called corvée labor, the Prince's Mansion provided meals and lodging along with some wages—something that had never occurred in the past decades, centuries, or even millennia. Were a few hundred copper coins much? Not really. Were they few? Not at all, especially for those who constantly suffered from hunger, going three days without eight meals; it was truly a significant sum. Many found hope for survival; they no longer clung to life by a thread, enduring day by day as they had before. Those who went to mine coal and iron returned home, while those who forged iron and refined salt continued their work. But what of it? Their wages were sent back home, and their young and old family members had food to eat, leaving them deeply content. As for exhaustion—living in this world was inherently exhausting. If one could live well, then it didn't feel quite so tiring.

Early the next morning, Ling'er awoke from her slumber. She looked at the Prince of Yan, who was still lingering lazily in bed, and gently pecked his lips. Then, she slowly got up and dressed. They had numerous tasks to attend to today; the entire mansion needed a thorough cleaning, and couplets had to be posted. Although they had dyed some red paper the previous night, she felt it was not enough and wanted to dye some more. Fortunately, there were plenty of hands. Most of the guards dispatched by the mansion had already returned, save for Xiao Chu and Xu Ling, who had yet to arrive, and it was uncertain whether they would make it back today.

Ling'er stepped out of the bedchamber on tiptoe just as the guards of the mansion were changing shifts. The relieved guards rushed en masse toward the kitchen, where steaming hot breakfast awaited them—an arrangement ordered by Zhao Bin, who had instructed the off-duty brothers to eat their breakfast in the mansion before returning to the adjacent barracks to rest.

Ling'er hurried to the paper-dyeing room, where the stove was still burning. Compared to the outdoors, the temperature inside was wonderfully comfortable. After adding a fresh supply of coal to the stove, Ling'er began dyeing the paper alone in the room.

Half an hour later, the sun had risen. Apart from Zhao Bin, who was still fast asleep, everyone else was up and busy with their chores. Lu Biao led a group inside the estate to clean and wipe down surfaces, while Wang Wu and Cui'er went to hang the couplets. Not far away, Lin Jingtang was seen walking toward the mansion accompanied by Lin Yao and a middle-aged scholar-looking man.

Seeing Lin Jingtang approach, Cui'er hurried forward to greet him: "Greetings, Lord Lin."

Lin Jingtang smiled and returned a slight bow. "Hahaha, good morning, Girl Cui'er."

Beside him, Lin Yao dashed forward excitedly, linking her arm through Cui'er's. "Good morning, Sister Cui'er."

Cui'er responded with a smile and turned to Lin Jingtang, asking, "Lord Lin, who is this gentleman?"

"Ah, this is my son, Lin Shuren. He has also studied books for a couple of years and can write a few characters, so I simply brought him along to help out."

"So it is Master Lin. Cui'er pays her respects," Cui'er said, bowing slightly to the middle-aged man.

Lin Shuren said with a hint of diffidence, "Greetings, Lady Cui'er."

Before coming, Lin Jingtang had cautioned his son and granddaughter that the key figures in the Prince's Mansion were the Prince of Yan's trusted attendants brought directly from the capital, absolute confidants of the Prince whom they must not slight in the least.

"Please come inside, Lord Lin."

The three of them followed Cui'er into the mansion. It was Lin Yao's first time entering the estate, which could be considered the largest residence in the city. The young girl looked around with wide-eyed curiosity. "Sister Cui'er, the courtyard of the Prince's Mansion is so big!"

Cui'er looked at the wide-eyed little girl and said, "This isn't considered big. You haven't seen the imperial palace yet. The palace is dozens of times larger than the Prince's Mansion."

As they arrived at the front hall and stepped inside, a wave of warmth hit them, causing Lin Yao to pause in surprise. "How warm! Grandfather, the Prince's Mansion is much warmer than our home."

"Hahaha, no wonder Councilor Cao and the others run over to the Prince's Mansion to work every day. The charcoal fire here is much warmer than the one at the prefectural office," Lin Jingtang laughed.

"It's the Prince's first year in Yancheng, and he dislikes the cold, so the charcoal fires inside the estate are kept burning a bit more vigorously," Cui'er explained with a smile. Actually, there was little need for explanation; the coal was mined by laborers organized after Zhao Bin's arrival, and the common people had also received their wages, making it all entirely reasonable.

"Please have a seat, Lord Lin. I'll go check if the Prince has risen."

"Am I really that lazy?" Just as Cui'er finished speaking, the sound of footsteps echoed from the back door, accompanied by the Prince's voice as he entered from outside.

Lin Jingtang and his two companions hurriedly stood up and bowed. "Greetings, Your Highness."

"Lord Lin, please don't stand on ceremony. Ah, and who might this be?"

"This is my unworthy son, Lin Shuren."

"Lin Shuren, a literary clerk at the Yancheng Prefectural Office, pays his respects to Your Highness," Lin Shuren bowed deeply once more.

"Oh, oh, I remember now. When I first visited the prefectural office, it seemed I met you. So you are Lord Lin's son; no wonder you looked familiar."

"Your Highness has an excellent memory. Your humble servant was standing in attendance at the time."

"Well, then. Since Lord Lin has arrived, let us set up the stall," Zhao Bin said with a smile, looking at the three members of the Lin family.

Outside the main gates of the Prince's Mansion, the bright red couplets had already been posted. Passersby paused in their tracks to gaze at them, some whispering among themselves.

"What do you suppose the Prince of Yan's Mansion is up to?"

"Who knows?"

"When I came from the east of the city, I saw that prefect Lin's household had posted them too."

"I think I saw Lord He's household pasting them as well."

"Does anyone know how to read? Let's see what's written on them."

A middle-aged man spoke up, "This is a pair of couplets. The upper line reads: 'The doorway welcomes the morning sun, bringing vast sources of wealth'; the lower line reads: 'The household embraces the spring breeze, granting numerous auspicious celebrations.' The horizontal scroll reads: 'The Star of Fortune shines high above.'"

The crowd followed the voice and saw that the speaker was none other than Cao Li, the Councilor of Yancheng. The commoners greeted him warmly, "Good day, Lord Councilor! Good day, Lord Councilor!" Recently, people had frequently seen Cao Li running about tirelessly without any airs of officialdom. This councilor, who already enjoyed a certain popularity among the common folk, returned their greetings with a broad smile.

"Lord Councilor, why is the Prince pasting couplets on the main gate?" someone asked curiously.

"Indeed, Lord Councilor, what is the Prince trying to do?"

Cao Li turned to face the surrounding crowd and said, "The Prince said these couplets are expressions of hope for a better future and serve to pray for blessings. From now on, during the Year-end Festival in Yancheng, every household must paste couplets. Only by praying for blessings together will life in Yancheng grow better day by day."

"Praying for blessings? Every household must paste couplets? Where on earth can we buy couplets? This humble person wants to buy a pair and paste them on the door to pray for blessings too."

Voices murmured continuously among the crowd.

"I haven't heard of anywhere selling couplets. Do you know where to buy them?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

"Never heard of it."

Just as everyone was discussing this animatedly, the gates of the Prince's Mansion swung open once more. Several guards carried out two tables, and the crowd cleared an open space. Zhao Bin led his entourage out from the courtyard. Seeing the Prince of Yan emerge, the commoners immediately knelt and kowtowed, "Greetings, Your Highness the Prince of Yan."

Standing on the steps, Zhao Bin called out, "Everyone, please rise, please rise! Let me share some good news with you all: today, the Prince's Mansion is writing couplets for free! The three masters of the Lin family are personally holding the brushes. Such an opportunity is rare, the quantity is limited, and it's first-come, first-served—one pair per household." As he spoke, Zhao Bin suddenly felt that he looked a bit like a street vendor hawking wares.

Hearing that they were free, the crowd instantly erupted in excitement, waving their arms.

"Your Highness, I want a pair!"

"I want one too!"

...

Had the guards not blocked the way in front, the crowd might have rushed right into the mansion.

"Line up! Form a proper line, one by one!" Zhao Bin shouted at the top of his lungs.

Under the maintenance of the guards, the people slowly parted to the sides, forming two long queues.

Lin Jingtang and his son each occupied a table, while Lin Yao assisted them. If Lin Jingtang grew tired later on, she would take his place.

"Where is Ling'er?" Zhao Bin turned to ask Cui'er.

"She ran off to dye paper next door early this morning," Cui'er said, lifting her chin to gesture toward the adjacent courtyard.

"This girl—Old Wu, take a few brothers to help Ling'er with the paper dyeing."

Hearing that people were going to help Ling'er dye paper, Lin Yao grew eager and piped up, "Your Highness, I want to go help Sister Ling'er too."

"Aren't you busy writing characters?"

"We've only just started, haven't we? My grandfather can sometimes write characters all day long."

"Ahem, ahem," Lin Jingtang could not help coughing a few times.

"Hahaha, then go along with them. He is your grandfather anyway; whether you pity him or not is up to you," Zhao Bin said with a smile.

Lin Yao glanced at Lin Jingtang, then looked up at Zhao Bin and said, "Thank you, Your Highness! I'm off then."

Cao Li joked from the side, "Lord Lin, in another two years, I'm afraid this girl's heart will be entirely won over by outsiders."

Lin Shuren also gave a bitter smile and said, "Ah, grown children go their own way."

The surrounding onlookers burst into hearty laughter upon hearing this.

In ancient times, a woman reached womanhood at the age of fifteen, known as *ji ji*. Once she reached this age, she was considered an adult and eligible for marriage. Families in difficult circumstances would marry their daughters off as soon as they grew older, while wealthier families would wait until they were sixteen or seventeen. If a woman remained unmarried past eighteen, she was considered an old maiden, and people behind her back would inevitably gossip and make remarks.

In the courtyard next door, since some of the paper could no longer fit inside the rooms, it was brought out into the yard to dry in the sun. However, drying this way was not as fast as drying with artificial heat from fires. Soon, all the dyed paper had been written upon, yet people who had heard the news continued to arrive in an endless stream. Having no other choice, Zhao Bin could only explain to everyone that the paper supply was limited and things would remain thus for this year, but next year he would surely ensure that every household in the city had couplets to paste. Those who received their couplets beamed with radiant joy, while those who missed out wore expressions of deep regret, blaming themselves for not arriving earlier.