My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 107: New Year's Eve

At the end of the lunar year, it's time to bid farewell to the old and welcome the new—a night known as New Year's Eve.

After a brief rest, Zhou Suzhi started preparing the New Year's Eve dinner. Jiang He quickly joined her in the kitchen, eager to pick up a few cooking tricks. Learning cooking felt more advanced than learning martial arts—while martial arts ensured you could fill your stomach, cooking made sure you could enjoy what you ate after you were full.

“This is wonderful,” Xu Qing sighed.

After slicing a few passion fruits, he decided to stop. These were reserved for making juice or tea for Xu Wenbin and his wife. They were far too sour to eat directly.

“All you do is sit around, never lending a hand!” Xu Wenbin reclined comfortably on the couch, watching TV, and scolded Xu Qing for mirroring his behavior.

“I was just about to,” Xu Qing said, getting up and heading to the kitchen. Upon entering, he noticed a pig’s head on the kitchen floor—a clear sign Xu Wenbin had brought it back on his scooter. Zhou Suzhi couldn’t deal with it, so it would be left to the father and son duo to handle.

“Mom, leave me some vegetables for the hotpot. I’ll take them to Uncle Qin’s place tonight,” Xu Qing called.

“Take the pig’s head, too, and let me see… I’ll add something else,” Zhou Suzhi said, sorting through a pile of ingredients in the kitchen. This year’s dinner was larger than usual to welcome an additional guest and show their hospitality.

Zhou Suzhi even thought that if Xu Qing suddenly announced she was going to be a grandmother, it wouldn’t be too surprising.

Xu Qing picked up the gas canister and headed to the balcony to singe the pig’s head. Seeing Zhou Suzhi looking at him strangely, he asked, “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just get to work,” she replied, brushing him off.

The three of them busied themselves, and by the time the sound of firecrackers echoed outside, most of the dishes were ready. A large pot of braised beef with potatoes, several stir-fried dishes, cold appetizers, smoked meats, and a platter of chicken and duck—everything expected for a New Year’s feast was there.

Xu Wenbin, who hadn’t done much, brought out two bottles of alcohol—one red, one white—uncapping them and placing them on the table to add a touch of ceremony to the meal.

"Another year has gone by," he began, taking the lead as the head of the household. He looked at the three others seated around him.

“This year’s a bit different. Xu Qing, you’re all grown up now...” He paused, seemingly forgetting what he intended to say, then waved it off. “May every year be better than the last. Let’s keep at it next year!”

“Cheers!” Xu Qing chimed in.

Jiang He, sitting primly in her chair, no longer had the unease she felt during her first visit. She bit her lip, watching the scene unfold. The room was warm, the TV played in the background, the table was piled with the fruits of an afternoon’s hard work, and outside, firecrackers popped. The three family members and her sat together to welcome the new year.

“She doesn’t drink much; just a little,” Xu Qing said, seeing Zhou Suzhi pour wine. He quickly took over, pouring for his father and himself, while Zhou Suzhi carefully poured half a glass of red wine for Jiang He, following his advice.

The men drank white wine, while Zhou Suzhi and Jiang He had red.

Feeling Xu Qing’s hand brushing hers under the table, Jiang He instinctively grabbed it in return. Looking up, she froze upon seeing him with his glass mid-air, equally stunned.

Realizing what had happened, she quickly released his hand and raised her own glass, clinking it with theirs.

“Let’s dig in! We’ve been waiting all afternoon for this,” Zhou Suzhi said, ignoring Xu Qing’s sidelong glances at Jiang He and chatting with her instead.

The two men sipped their white wine, while the four of them enjoyed a hearty meal.

Xu Qing’s earlier comments about being reserved had an impact. His parents went out of their way to make Jiang He feel at ease, recounting embarrassing childhood stories of Xu Qing.

For instance, when he was a mischievous child, he once snatched a slice of cooked meat to show off to Qin Hao, only to drop it and have a dog snatch it. They even managed to wrestle it back from the dog.

Jiang He listened intently, marveling at some of the unfamiliar tales, while Xu Qing and his father bantered about the Spring Festival Gala. The meal was lively, and afterward, Xu Qing helped the two women clean up, storing leftovers in the fridge and wrapping non-perishables in cling film. By nine o’clock, he and Jiang He packed up some dishes to head out.

“Wait, come here first,” Xu Wenbin called out, his face flushed from the alcohol but his eyes bright. He beckoned Xu Qing and headed to the study.

Xu Qing glanced at Zhou Suzhi, who was engrossed in the TV. Handing the food to Jiang He, he followed his father.

In the study, Xu Wenbin handed him a small box before ushering him out. “Take it and go. Open it when you get home.”

“New Year’s money?”

“Just open it later.”

Bemused, Xu Qing returned to the living room, pocketing the box without opening it. Taking Jiang He by the hand, they stepped out into the chilly night air.

The cold air didn’t dampen Xu Qing’s spirits. He’d been cheerful throughout dinner and continued smiling after leaving.

“At Uncle Qin’s, just act naturally. Try to talk more, like a modern person. Don’t worry if you slip up—he’ll forget everything after a few drinks and a nap. How was the red wine?”

Noticing Jiang He’s slightly off expression, he asked, “You didn’t drink too much, did you?”

“No,” she replied, her cheeks flushed as she squinted, lost in thought.

“Good. Half a glass shouldn’t be enough to get you drunk... Let’s see what treasure my dad gave me.”

Xu Qing pulled the box from his pocket, opened it under the streetlight, and found exactly what he expected.

“Those two,” he muttered, exasperated.

“What is it?” Jiang He asked, pointing to the small square packets inside.

“Balloons. You blow them up really big, but we won’t need them now.” Xu Qing snapped the box shut and put it away, glancing back at the lit-up window of their home.

“Why blow them up?”

“Because that’s what they’re for. When they’re big enough, you can pop them with a squeeze.”

“Will we need them in the future?”

“Maybe…”

As they strolled toward another building, Jiang He walked quietly, her head down. Nearing the stairwell, she suddenly asked, “Are we... still completely innocent?”

“Innocent…?” Xu Qing repeated, watching her hesitation.

Should they be innocent? It felt like a trap.

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