Moon Festival

With a swoosh, the startled Li Huowang shot to his feet, stumbling back several paces.

The clatter of the overturned stool immediately caught the noodle stall owner's attention. He scurried over, his demeanor cautious and placating. "Honored guest? What's wrong? Is the noodles not good, or is the broth not right? How about I swap you a new bowl?"

His face ashen, Li Huowang glanced at the man, then at his pregnant wife. Without another word, he tossed down a piece of碎银子和碎银子 and hurriedly drove the carriage away.

"Guest! You've paid too much! A bowl of noodles doesn't cost this much!" The stall owner's voice only made the carriage pick up even more speed.

On the galloping cart, Li Huowang clutched his stomach with a strange expression. "What the hell? Was that Black Tai Sui just parroting me, or does it actually think I'm its dad?"

He had always assumed this Tai Sui was just like Danyangzi—its very existence was for the purpose of seizing someone else's body.

But what just happened… it seemed completely different from what he had imagined.

"Dad?" The voice sounded again, and Li Huowang immediately refuted it. "Don't call me that!"

"Why not?"

The Black Tai Sui's question caught Li Huowang off guard. After a moment of thought, his mind calmed. He was right. Why couldn't it call him that? Whether this was a bad thing or a good thing for him… it wasn't settled yet.

—————————

The rooster's crow made Yang Xiaohai slowly open his eyes. He rubbed them, looking around the room, still not quite used to having a room to himself.

For the first few days, without the stench of Senior Disciple Cao Cao's feet to smell, he hadn't been able to sleep soundly.

He stretched hard, then got up and began putting on his clothes.

At his age, he was sprouting up like a weed day by day. That little apprentice robe was already noticeably too short for him.

Greeted by the cold morning wind, Yang Xiaohai hunched his neck and headed for the Bai family's kitchen.

Living in Niuxin Village was much better than camping out in the open. The courtyard opposite the kitchen had a well, making it easy to wash clothes, dishes, or oneself, without needing to haul water from a distance at the crack of dawn.

The fire was lit, the rice that had been soaking all night was put in, and Yang Xiaohai began to expertly cook the congee.

Rice porridge was simple, but it still depended on how you made it. If you simmered it slowly until the starchy oil rose to the surface, it had a flavor all its own.

He opened the pickle jar, took out his chopsticks, picked some pickled vegetables, and laid them on the cutting board to slice them into strips.

Completely absorbed in his work, Yang Xiaohai was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. He looked up to see that plump woman. "Young fellow villager, you're up early today too." She was holding a new set of clothes in her arms—a man's clothes.

"Take the leftover tofu from last night out and we'll have it with the congee," he said, thinking to himself how good life was now, that they even had leftovers.

"Alright." The woman was ordered about but didn't get angry. She obediently went to do it.

By the time the congee was cooked and the vegetables were cut, the others had drifted into the main hall for breakfast.

Li Huowang had been gone for a long time now. Everyone was gradually getting used to it.

But in each of their hearts, there was a hollow feeling, as if the keystone had vanished. Without anyone to give orders, they didn't know what to do with themselves.

As for the hurtful things he'd said before they left, no one held a grudge.

They had all clawed their way through death together. Their hearts were tough. Even if Li Huowang had stood there and shouted curses at them for a whole day and night, they'd have just laughed it off.

But they weren't blind. They had all seen who was hurting the most since he left.

Since Li Huowang's departure, Bai Lingmiao had never once smiled. The approachable warmth was gone, replaced by a frost that kept everyone at arm's length.

Chun Xiaoman sighed softly. She picked up a piece of pickled vegetable with her chopsticks and placed it into Bai Lingmiao's bowl beside her.

She had been sleeping with her all this time, worried that her friend might do something rash.

Bai Lingmiao picked up the pickle with her chopsticks, put it in her mouth, bit off a small piece, and started chewing.

"Miss Bai, ah…"

Lü Zhuangyuan's words made Bai Lingmiao look up. Her long white eyelashes blinked as she asked calmly, "Troupe Master Lü, is there something you need?"

"Well, you see, we've been resting for quite a while now. I think the Lü Family Troupe can go out and perform again. The autumn harvest is over; the farmers have nothing to do and are all at home preparing to hole up for the winter. They'll have time to watch a show."

"Alright. But today is the Moon Festival. How about we leave after the holiday, Troupe Master? What do you think?"

Troupe Master Lü nodded a bit awkwardly. "Alright, alright."

He'd really been hoping to take his family out for Mid-Autumn to avoid an awkward time in this village. But since she put it that way, he had no choice but to agree.

In his time here, he'd already learned clearly: this girl had lost her entire family. This Mid-Autumn Festival wouldn't be easy for her.

"I can make mooncakes!" Yang Xiaohai volunteered enthusiastically.

"Back with old Baldy Liu, every Mid-Autumn Festival, he'd make us make mooncakes. I was the fastest and best among the little apprentices!"

Seeing Chun Xiaoman signal him with her eyes, Yang Xiaohai froze, then quickly sat down and buried his head in his breakfast.

After breakfast, Yang Xiaohai dug out the mooncake molds. Luckily, the Bai family village had everything you could need, otherwise, this would have been hard to manage.

Gouwa poked half his head in from the kitchen door, his smile fake. "Xiaohai, need any help?"

"No, I can manage by myself."

"Alright! Then I'll be looking forward to eating them tonight. I'm taking Gao Zhijian to build a kiln!"

He worked all day, and when night fell, the bright moon hung high in the sky.

Cakes and fruits bought from the peddler, along with the stacks of mooncakes, were brought out onto the table.

Moon-viewing called for wine. A jar from the cellar was hauled out too.

Bai Lingmiao, seated at the head of the table, raised her glass to the others. "A full moon, a full table, may everything be complete. Smooth minds, smooth hearts, may everything go well. I wish you all happiness in your families and harmony in your homes!"

The others looked at each other, then, in twos and threes, reluctantly raised their glasses, mumbling some vague, awkward responses.

After downing a cup of wine, Bai Lingmiao's eyes reddened. "Come on, don't just drink! Eat your mooncakes. Junior Disciple Yang's mooncakes look really pretty. I'm sure they'll be delicious."

She picked up a mooncake and took a small, delicate bite.

Seeing everyone walking on eggshells around her, Bai Lingmiao sniffled, then let out a laugh.

"Oh, silly me. It's Mid-Autumn Festival, and I haven't changed the offerings in the ancestral hall. You all go ahead and eat. I'll be back after I've changed them."

With that, she picked up a plate of mooncakes and walked towards the Bai family ancestral hall.

The moment she was gone, everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief. Gouwa, feeling very uncomfortable, tugged at his collar. "Ah, this Mid-Autumn is really something."

"You all eat. I'll go check on her." Chun Xiaoman stood up to follow.

But Gao Zhijian grabbed her hand and shook his head slightly. "Let… let… let her be… alone… for a while."

"Everyone, eat the mooncakes. Junior Disciple Yang's mooncakes are really good." Bai Lingmiao held the mooncakes in both hands, placing them in front of the dense forest of ancestral tablets in the hall.

These tablets were all new. Every single one from the Bai family village, men, women, young, and old, was arranged neatly here.

A vast, oppressive black wall of tablets with black bases and white lettering loomed over her, the last bloodline of the Bai family, staring down from on high.