Chapter Fourteen: New Year’s Celebration

"The Azure Cloud's Fortune, the Azure Cloud's Fortune." At this moment, Li Zisheng could no longer suppress the shock in his heart. He had never imagined that Zhang Shuling’s background would be so extraordinary. His own family was already considered among the more affluent households in Tianshui Village, yet their fortune was merely a pure white hue. Even after becoming a disciple of Old Master Cheng Zhongliang, a trace of red fortune had barely appeared in the family's destiny, only to be instantly swallowed by the overwhelming white.

But now, the fortune surrounding Zhang Shuling alone had already reached the Azure Cloud’s Fortune.

In ancient times, the phrase “riding the Azure Clouds” was not used lightly; it meant ascending to great heights in a single step, soaring to success and glory.

Who exactly were these Zhang sisters, to possess such a remarkable background?

“Zhuangzhuang, Zhuangzhuang, come eat, come eat.” Wang’s voice rang out just then. Upon hearing his nickname, Li Zisheng immediately returned to himself, his face darkening—was she trying to undermine him?

“Coming, Mother.” Li Zisheng replied, glancing at Wang’s figure in the distance.

“Ladies, I must take my leave for a meal.” Li Zisheng gave them a slight bow and departed. Now was not the time to reveal his abilities. Though these were prosperous times, political intrigue was best left for later; he was still too young. If he boarded a pirate ship without reason, he might not be able to save his own life.

“Ah…” Zhang Shuling seemed to have something to say, but watching Li Zisheng’s departing figure, she swallowed her words.

Zhang Shufeng was also highly perceptive—how could she not notice her younger sister’s unusual demeanor?

“Little one, are you experiencing a budding affection? Should I act as your matchmaker and have Young Master Li marry you?” she teased, her laughter ringing out.

Zhang Shuling rolled her eyes at her sister’s laughter.

“Sister, can this be copied for a keepsake?” she asked, turning back to admire the poem once more.

—

“Oh, so you’re still pretending you’re not interested. I’ll have someone make a rubbing for you—after all, it’s the handwriting of your future husband, something worth treasuring.”

“Little Sheng, don’t always run off to the back hills—the mountain’s too cold. My heart aches for you. How could you go there every day for two years? Come, let’s eat.” His grandmother, seeing Li Zisheng return, ignored the other cousins and hurried him to the table.

At midday, the entire Li family gathered for their meal around a large round table. Grandparents sat in the center, the rest arranged by seniority. But as the cherished grandson, Li Zisheng was always called to sit close by.

“Little Sheng, Old Master Cheng brought more books today. He said you don’t need to return these—just bury them when you’re done reading.” Grandfather eyed Li Zisheng curiously. Earlier, Old Master Cheng had sent a message, which was unusual; typically, he would simply send books and say nothing more. Why the special instructions this time? Had his grandson done something to displease his teacher?

Seeing the concern in his grandparents’ eyes, Li Zisheng felt a pang of sorrow.

“Grandfather, Grandmother, I’ve already seen the books at home. Please don’t worry. This was part of a wager between Master Cheng and me. I haven’t upset him. He told me before to visit him during the Lantern Festival, but due to unforeseen events, he had to leave early. After the festival, I’m to report directly to the county school instead of seeking him out.”

“The county school? Little Sheng, why didn’t you tell us earlier? So you’ll have to leave home already? Old Master Cheng really—our little Sheng is so young to be leaving.” Grandmother’s heart ached at the thought, her eyes growing misty.

“Grandmother, my desire for learning is steadfast. I will strive to become the top scholar. Please don’t worry.”

“That’s enough, old woman. Doesn’t he have an aunt in town? What’s there to worry about? Come, let’s eat—the whole family is waiting.” Grandfather urged, while Wang’s eyes also brimmed with tears.

Li Zisheng knew there was nothing more he could say at this point; it would do no good.

The New Year approached. Every household lit firecrackers in celebration, children donned new clothes, and families hung fresh peachwood charms.

Li Zisheng joined his two older cousins, visiting neighbors to offer New Year’s greetings and well-wishes. Owing to his reputation, he collected a fair amount of small silver coins, which he happily accepted. By midday, their pockets were heavy with coins, but the weather turned as snowflakes began to drift down. With the visits nearly done, Li Zisheng knew it was time to pay respects to Old Master Cheng, his esteemed mentor—a New Year’s courtesy that could not be skipped. Wang and his father packed food for the journey, hitched up the cart, and set off for Master Cheng’s residence.

“Little Sheng, with snow coming down like this, we might be late getting back. Let’s have a bite first.” Wang, seeing the relentless snow, took some dry rations and pickles out from a cloth pouch on the cart.

—

Li Zisheng was not one to put on airs. He asked his father to stop the cart, and the three of them ate some provisions in the snowy landscape before moving on.

The Cheng residence was modest, its gates closed. Li Zisheng’s father gently tapped three times on the round knocker, just as Li Zisheng had instructed. Judging by the time, it was likely just after midday—his mentor was probably napping, as mentioned in their previous correspondence. This specific way of knocking was something Li Zisheng had learned from the Cheng family’s servants.

“Who’s there?” came a gentle voice.

The door was opened by an elderly lady, serene and kind, with a refined demeanor.

“Madam, greetings. I am Li Zisheng, disciple of Old Master Cheng,” Li Zisheng said, stepping forward, bowing with the scholar’s salute.

“Oh, you must be Little Sheng! My husband often speaks of you—always with such delight, saying you’re the most outstanding student he’s ever had,” Madam Cheng beamed.

Wang quickly joined in, “You are too kind, Madam. But where are the servants?” The Cheng household was not large, yet only Madam Cheng could be seen.

She smiled, unconcerned. “It’s nothing—after all, it’s the New Year. My husband gave all the staff leave to return home for the holiday.”

Her gaze turned to Li Zisheng. “Little Sheng, your teacher is resting right now. The wind and snow are fierce outside; come in, come in. I’ll wake him—he’ll be overjoyed to know you’re here.”