“We’d go back to the Division and sleep.” Xiao Kun answered, “Most of the time, I was out in the field anyway—catching monsters or running errands. There were few chances to stay in Shangjing during the holidays.”
Xiang Xian: “Didn’t you go back to your clan?”
“After my mother passed,” Xiao Kun said, “I barely had any contact with the Xiao Family.”
It made sense—who would want to return to their maternal uncle’s home after being treated like a monster since childhood?
“And New Year’s Day?” Xiang Xian asked again.
“I’d buy some firecrackers,” Xiao Kun said, “set them by the door for the kids to play with, and read books in the Division.”
“You didn’t go out to have fun?” Xiang Xian was genuinely surprised. Xiao Kun’s life seemed even lonelier than he’d imagined, and clearly, he had grown accustomed to it.
They lingered at the spring couplet stall for a while and saw that the vendor had written a fine line from an ancient Han dynasty poem: “The warmth of spring spreads blessings, All Things Grow in radiant splendor.”
“And you?” Xiao Kun suddenly asked.
Xiang Xian replied, “New Year’s is the liveliest time in Kaifeng. On New Year’s Eve, they set off fireworks for three full nights, right up to the third day of the new year—fiery trees and silver flowers everywhere. Before heading to Longting Lake to watch the fireworks, there are all sorts of game stalls: guessing games, bird-chasing, archery, fishing.”
“Food and fun for everyone, capped off with cockfights and the Cuju Tournament.” Xiang Xian picked up an embroidered ball from a nearby stall, bounced it off his knee twice, and sent it flying toward Xiao Kun, who caught it deftly. Xiang Xian patted A Huang on his shoulder and added, “A Huang loves New Year’s the most.”
Xiang Xian continued, “Gao Qiu himself comes to Longting Lake with the Forbidden Army for cuju—truly emptying the streets with crowds. I know what you’re thinking: it’s all just squeezing the common folk dry. I admit it, but when you’re in the middle of it, it’s still exciting.”
Xiao Kun took a deep breath. He almost said, “No wonder your Great Song is doomed to fall,” but on second thought, the Liao Kingdom hadn’t enjoyed much either, and it had still met its end.
“Won’t you come play in Kaifeng for a few days?” Xiang Xian finally revealed his true intention.
“No.” Xiao Kun said.
“Just a few days,” Xiang Xian said earnestly. “Lord Xiao, have you ever truly lived for yourself?”
Xiao Kun replied just as seriously, “The Heavenly Demon is about to reincarnate, Deputy Emissary!”
“Ah! What’s this?!” Chaosheng’s curious voice came from a nearby stall.
“These are spring couplets,” Wu Yingzong said. “Do you like them?”
It was Chaosheng’s first time seeing human New Year’s decorations, and with his new Qiankun Bag, he exclaimed, “I like them! So pretty. What about these?”
“New Year paintings,” Wu Yingzong said. “In Kaifeng, as New Year’s approaches, families paste them up. And window flowers—see?”
Xiang Xian glanced over and shot Xiao Kun a look, suggesting they grab something to eat.
A riverside stall offered plenty of snacks, so Xiao Kun moved to sit behind it with Xiang Xian.
“Chaosheng,” Xiao Kun said, “don’t buy too many. There’s no place to put them.”
“Do they have to be put up?” Chaosheng was completely captivated by the spring couplets, unable to tear himself away.
Xiang Xian couldn’t fathom why Chaosheng took such a shine to Wu Yingzong, but it was rare for Chaosheng to appreciate the beauty in something as commonplace as couplets to him—it brought them no small amusement.
“Wu Yingzong likes him too,” Xiang Xian said to Xiao Kun after they sat down.
Xiao Kun nodded with a hint of puzzlement. Xiang Xian knew Xiao Kun was weighing it: they would soon part ways, entrusting Chaosheng to him and Wu Yingzong. Could he truly trust them? After all, when they had left the White Jade Palace, Xiang Xian had been the one officially tasked with Chaosheng’s care.
“Why?” Xiao Kun asked.
They dropped the earlier topic.
Xiang Xian explained, “Aside from necessities, Wu Yingzong doesn’t talk to anyone but me and A Huang. Look at him—his eyes are glued to Chaosheng.”
Xiao Kun murmured in agreement and watched as Chaosheng finished browsing one stall and moved to the next.
Xiang Xian ordered fried shrimp and two pots of hot wine. He and Xiao Kun sat on the high riverside cliff in the winter chill, gazing at the scenic river view, whiling away the entire afternoon. When they returned to the inn at dusk, both rooms were filled with freshly inked spring couplets still drying—scattered across the beds, tables, floors, everywhere.
“Why’d you buy so many spring couplets?” Xiang Xian wanted to cry. Judging by Chaosheng’s enthusiasm, he planned to paper the whole place with them.
Wu Yingzong stood in the middle and said, “Chaosheng liked them, so I bought one of each.”
“Put them away and look at them later,” Xiao Kun had no choice but to say. “Time for dinner—it’s late, and we leave at dawn tomorrow.”
Chaosheng, beaming with joy, admired them one by one before carefully stowing the couplets in his Qiankun Bag. Then he pulled out little trinkets he’d bought at the market to show Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun.
That night, beneath the Black Giant Tree:
Demonic Qi slowly spread, ripples stirring in the pool.
“Yan Yan, Mr. Qin, this time you two will work together. They plan to split at Zigui—Xiao Kun heads to Aksu to track the Heart Lamp, but he alone can’t summon it. Leave that to Mr. Liu waiting there.
“Yes, Heavenly Sovereign.”
“You two, remember your tasks clearly: Mr. Qin, detain Li Chaosheng, plant the ‘Seed’ in Zhao Ji, then send him here with the Qingyu Golden Chalice. Yan Yan, support Mr. Qin fully and lure Xiang Xian away at the right moment. He wields the Wisdom Sword but can’t sustain it long—avoid its edge, stall him as much as possible. Understood?”
“Yes.”
