Chapter 53: New Year's Day

In the capital, the lively bustle leading up to the New Year festival far surpassed anything Yancheng could ever compare to.

Inside the imperial city, singing and dancing filled the air, and banquets were held throughout the night. Even the palace maids who usually resided deep within the palace walls to serve the imperial family donned festive attire, singing joyfully under the brilliant lights. Outside the imperial city, commoners and nobles alike stepped out of their homes to stroll freely through the streets, reveling in the rare joy of this festive night. Thus, the New Year festival transformed into a grand, celebratory feast shared between officials and citizens alike, a nationwide carnival.

Amidst this grand spectacle, apart from admiring the colorful lanterns, one could also enjoy a dizzying array of diverse variety shows. These performances originated from the *jiao di* wrestling of the Warring States period, which bore distinct political motives intended to display military might and intimidate rival states. They evolved to include animal mimicry acts such as the gliding fish and dragons, as well as comedic and theatrical wrestling, continually expanding to absorb various acrobatic arts.

According to custom, on the eve of the New Year, the Emperor would host a banquet for all civil and military officials. The purpose was twofold: first, to provide a fitting conclusion to the past year and thank the officials for their contributions to the Great Xia Dynasty, and second, to express the hope that they would continue to serve Xia in the future. In truth, it was all a farce; whether it was the aristocratic clans or the imperial family, they were merely engaging in a power struggle for their own respective interests. Who among them genuinely cared for the country or the common people living upon this land?

Within the grand imperial hall, Zhao Wuji sat at the very top, with the imperial concubines seated in order to his left and right. The court officials filled the hall below; only those of a certain rank were permitted to sit here, while lesser officials were relegated to the side halls flanking the main chamber.

A troupe of dancers slowly entered the center of the hall. They wore their hair in elegant double-lobed coils, with glazed earrings dangling from their ears. Their fragrant shoulders and jade-like bones were complemented by bodices that half-revealed their voluptuous bosoms, embroidered with red peony motifs across the translucent fabric. Yellow silk ribbons encircled their slender waists, paired with blue-green landscape skirts that stirred deeply sensual desires. The officials, raising their cups in toasts, were captivated by this breathtaking scene and lowered their wine vessels to gaze upwards.

The dancers gathered in the center of the hall to form the shape of a closed flower bud. As a melodious tune began to play, the bud slowly unfurled, revealing two women intertwined at its heart. One of them wore apricot-yellow silk gauze with a plunging neckline that bared her full breasts. Her face was like a lotus flower, her eyebrows like willow leaves, and her eyes held the misty depth of spring water, rippling with seductive glances. Atop her head rested a sloping bun pinned with a turquoise jade dragon-and-phoenix hairpin. Her skin was white as snow, and her rosy lips parted slightly into an upturned smile, prompting gasps of wonder at her peerless beauty.

The other woman was dressed in translucent pink gauze, possessing a graceful, slender yet curvaceous figure. Her ample bosom and alluring hips were cinched at the waist, and her jade-like legs moved with effortless grace. Her delicate and exquisite facial features bloomed like peach blossoms, exuding a radiant, full-bodied charm. A single backward glance from her enchanting eyes was as captivating as blooming peach blossoms, evoking an irresistible tenderness.

Accompanied by the mingling sounds of flutes, bells, and drums, the dancers swirled gracefully across the floor, encircling the two women at the center like petals surrounding pistils. Zhao Wuji, who had initially remained calm, shifted slightly on his dragon couch, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at the dancers. To be honest, as a man in his forties and the reigning Emperor of the Great Xia Dynasty, he had seen countless women. Once utterly fatigued in body and mind by the overt and covert struggles of the aristocratic families at court, and entirely devoid of interest in female charms, at this very moment his mind seemed to drift back to his youth, recalling the vigorous days when he held beauties in both arms.

Empress Zhang, seated nearby, grew slightly sullen as she observed the Emperor's expression. It had been a very long time since the Emperor had favored the consorts of the inner palace—not just her, but Noble Consort Xue as well. Of course, they were well aware that they were no longer young and their youth had faded; they no longer harbored illusions of receiving such imperial grace. Their singular purpose now was to fight for the imperial succession on behalf of their respective princes.

The Emperor was not the only one lost in fascination; the Crown Prince, the First Prince, and numerous officials were similarly entranced. Naturally, a few remained unmoved, such as Xue Qing, the Minister of Works. It was not that he was immune to feminine beauty, but rather that these two women had been arranged by his own command, with the express purpose of placing them by the Emperor's side. Xue Qing took a small sip of wine, gazing calmly at the dazed Emperor and princes, a trace of an imperceptible smile playing across his lips.

Enchanting moments always pass swiftly. The palace bells rang out to welcome the New Year, and the Emperor emerged from the grand hall, leading all the officials in kowtowing to Heaven and Earth to pray for the enduring prosperity of Great Xia. As the banquet concluded, the two women were indeed detained in the palace by the Emperor and assigned suitable quarters. However, since it was New Year's Eve, the Emperor was still required to spend the night with the Empress, leaving the two peerless beauties unattended for the time being.

Wangjiang Tower remained brightly lit, filled with wealthy merchants and powerful aristocrats sojourning in the capital who had gathered there to share a hot pot and stay up to welcome the New Year. By now, Wangjiang Tower was no longer the sole hot pot restaurant in the capital; seeing its immense popularity, other businessmen had begun secretly copying the concept. Though they had yet to fully grasp its essence, they still attracted a steady stream of patrons, while those who could not afford Wangjiang Tower frequented the cheaper alternatives.

On the Luo River directly in front of Wangjiang Tower, flower boats drifted lazily, the sounds of drinking and merriment rising in waves. From the pleasure houses came the harmonious blending of zithers and xiao flutes, their melodies swelling endlessly. Literary and martial contests unfolded one after another, fitting the verse:

*Shoulders touching, white hands intertwined,*
*We walk into the orchid chamber and bolt the vermilion door.*
*Incense curls from dragon-saliva musk, the bamboo mat unrolls like cold jade,*
*Our pillows of glass pressed together, we meet*
*Within the embroidered hibiscus and green gauze curtains,*
*Surpassing even the waters flowing past peach blossoms west of the bridge.*
*Weary, we lean against the folding screen, slowly loosening our silken robes.*
*Enjoying the bashful rain and tender clouds of passion,*
*Far more wondrous than the Cowherd and Weaver meeting once a year on the seventh night.*

Hahaha, truly carefree and unrestrained, a genuine earthly paradise! Does the world truly possess only monarchs who refuse to hold morning court? Of course not. Anyone with power, influence, and wealth knew how to indulge in this tender embrace. Princely scions and noble youths stayed out all night, spending fortunes of gold just to buy a single smile from a beauty.

Yet, lamentable it was that behind these powdered beauties lay the piled bones of countless commoners. Pitiful was an era where beasts partook of official salaries and rotten wood served in government. Compared to the bustling prosperity of this corner of the capital, the world held boundless suffering: outside the vermilion gates froze the corpses of the starved; there was the old charcoal seller who prayed for bitter cold because his charcoal was cheap; the peasant who tilled fields across the four seas yet still died of hunger; the frail old woman of Shinhao Village whose sons were conscripted by officials in the dead of night; the nursing mothers with tattered skirts; the wretched soldiers forced to hastily build the fortifications at Tongguan Pass; and the young conscripts marching off as parents and wives wept, their figures lost in the dust kicked up behind the Xianyang Bridge.

Early the next morning, dozens of horses that had galloped day and night finally arrived in Yancheng. Plumes of white vapor snorted from their nostrils, and white frost clung to their eyelashes; both beasts and men wore expressions of utter exhaustion. In the end, Xiao Chu had failed to return to Yancheng before the New Year.

The city gates slowly creaked open. The streets were already filled with numerous pedestrians exchanging mutual congratulations for the arrival of the new year. Zhao Bin had woken up exceptionally early today, adhering to a habit from his past life: no matter how heavily he usually slept, on New Year's Day he always rose early. It was a tradition, a rule, known in the north as "rising at the fifth watch."

Xiao Chu entered the Prince's Mansion laden with a vast quantity of copper coins. Seeing Xiao Chu return, Zhao Bin and the others were overjoyed. Zhao Bin sat in the center of the main hall, with the others seated on either side. Only An'er and Chunxi were absent; otherwise, everyone would have been present. Zhao Bin used the remaining red paper to wrap up monetary gifts for everyone, giving one tael of silver per person. Though the sum was modest, it was the thought that counted. After receiving their red envelopes, the group stood together in the center of the front hall and bowed to offer Zhao Bin New Year greetings.

Zhao Bin felt a twinge of melancholy. Not a single person here was his true blood relative. Yet, upon reflection, he chided himself for being overly sentimental; it seemed none of the people present had their own families around them either, so what more could he hope for? Although lacking blood ties, these people were willing to follow him to this dangerous and freezing northern frontier—how did that differ from true family?

A commotion arose outside the main gate, and a guard ran in to report: "Your Highness, many commoners have gathered outside, saying they have come to wish you a happy New Year."

"Hahaha, good, very good! Bring out more copper coins, let's go hand out red envelopes to the people," Zhao Bin said with a smile.

The others stuffed their robes with generous amounts of copper coins. With a creak, the main gates swung open, and Zhao Bin was the first to step outside. A large crowd of commoners had gathered outside; some had come from villages outside the city walls, while others were laborers who had previously performed corvée labor in the city. Seeing Zhao Bin emerge, the crowd dropped to their knees in unison, shouting, "Wishing Your Highness a Happy New Year! Wishing Your Highness a Happy New Year! Wishing Your Highness a Happy New Year!"

Smiles beamed across every face. Zhao Bin, Wang Wu, Ling'er, Cui'er, Xiao Chu, Lu Biao, and Xu Ling all descended the stone steps, pressing two or three copper coins into the hands of each person. Then, Zhao Bin untied a string of copper coins and scattered them high into the air...