Chapter 42: Chapter 42

On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, the weather improved considerably. The snowfall seemed to have lightened ever since that night. Perhaps even Heaven took pity on those who suffered.

According to the customs of later generations, one absolutely had to drink a bowl of Laba porridge during Laba. Although Zhao Jiu was a southerner, he had never abandoned that custom.

Early in the morning, Laba porridge simmered away over the stove with a soft hiss. As far as Zhao Jiu was concerned, eating it would ensure that everything went smoothly in the coming year. As for when it had to be eaten, that was where human subjective initiative came into play.

Cooking porridge was a technical craft. If the heat was insufficient, the grains would end up half-soft and half-hard. Even the hardest grains would be no harder than cooked rice, but when some had softened and absorbed the flavor while others remained a shade harder, the uneven texture felt uncomfortable against the teeth.

If it was overcooked into rice gruel, it could still be considered porridge, but there would be no need to chew it. After enduring a heart-clawing wait and patiently simmering it for hours, being unable to savor its varied textures in the end would be a terrible shame.

Only when it was cooked just right—when the beans had blossomed open, their mingled fragrance permeated the air, and everything in the pot had fused together—could it be considered finished.

Thick and sticky, warm and comforting—a large bowl eaten to one’s heart’s content marked the true beginning of the year.

The fire beneath the stove was low, so Zhao Jiu let the porridge simmer and slowly grind itself smooth. It was nearly noon by the time it was finally ready.

Before he could reflect on the achievement, his stomach protested ahead of his mouth. He fetched a large bowl, filled it to the brim, then sat in the courtyard, huffing over it, blowing away the steam, and eating his porridge.

The following day was the twenty-ninth.

Zhao Jiu went into the street and bought couplets, lanterns, and enough fine food to fill an entire table. A few days ago, he had received a message by carrier pigeon saying that Six Fingers was coming to Liangzhou.

For the past three years, the two of them had made a habit of sharing dinner and drinking heavily on the night of the twenty-ninth. Although neither of them was in Jiangnan this year, they still had to share a meal and a drink.

Zhao Jiu could only prepare a few simple dishes. He certainly could not serve his only friend a single pot of porridge and call it a meal. Fortunately, Hengtong Restaurant was still open, so he simply ordered an entire table of dishes.

At nightfall, Six Fingers arrived as promised.

He was still alone, but he had brought half a cartload of meat and vegetables with him.

Black lines nearly covered Zhao Jiu’s forehead. This made it look as though he were restocking his inventory.

Still, it did not matter. It was the New Year. Being happy was what mattered.

The two sat facing each other indoors and drank. Zhaocai lay beneath the table, wagging its tail. Its meals had improved considerably over the past few days.

After more than half a month, it had finally put some flesh on its bones. Its coat had also developed a healthy sheen, and it no longer looked like a stray dog.

After eating and drinking for over two hours, both men had nearly reached their limits. Their cheeks were flushed red, and every breath carried the smell of alcohol.

Zhaocai had already eaten and drunk its fill. It lay asleep on the floor .

The two men carried reclining chairs into the courtyard, where they lay back, chatted, and drank tea. By the time the moonlight spilled across the snow, they had mostly sobered up.

Six Fingers picked up a jug of wine, waved goodbye to Zhao Jiu, and drove away in his carriage.

Zhao Jiu was left alone in the courtyard, reclining in his chair and leisurely sipping tea.

The thirtieth—New Year’s Eve.

On the final day of the year, Zhao Jiu did not awaken until after noon.

Sleep was always especially sweet after drinking. Snow fell outside, but the room was warm, and he had no desire to get up. By the time he finished dawdling and ate lunch, it was almost three in the afternoon.

He went out and bought a fish. Fish was indispensable at New Year’s Eve dinner—“surplus year after year” was an auspicious omen!

At dusk, he put up new couplets and lanterns. He could already hear children playing outside.

Then he began cooking.

Although he could hardly claim to be a good cook, today was New Year’s Eve. No matter what, he had to prepare the reunion dinner himself.

Of course, it was not because of some sudden surge of enthusiasm. Every household was celebrating the New Year, and even Hengtong Restaurant had closed its doors. There was simply nowhere to buy a prepared meal.

He cooked rice, slaughtered and steamed the fish, and prepared three meat dishes and two vegetable dishes.

It was hardly a lavish feast, but it was everything he could make after exhausting the full extent of his abilities.

At nightfall, firecrackers began exploding one after another outside, filling the air with a rich New Year’s atmosphere wholly unlike that of later generations.

Zhao Jiu found an incense burner, lit several sticks of incense, and planted them inside. Facing east, he solemnly kowtowed several times in remembrance of his parents, who had died young.

The custom of keeping vigil on New Year’s Eve generally required one to remain awake until after midnight. Once Zhao Jiu had eaten and drunk his fill, he ignored the sounds outside, carried a reclining chair into the courtyard, and sat there drinking tea.

Keeping vigil on New Year’s Eve carried both a lingering reluctance to bid farewell to the bygone years that had flowed away like water and a beautiful hope for the approaching new year.

An ancient poet had written in “Keeping Vigil”:

“We gather to see out the year at Arong’s home; candles cast their red glow upon azure gauze. All three hundred sixty days were squandered, yet only on this night do we cherish the passing years.”

Remembering the past, cherishing one’s years, and lamenting the swift passage of youth were all part of human nature. From antiquity to the present, no one could avoid them.

“Will next year somehow fail to come? I fear only my ambitions will be frittered away. Make the most of this final night; while still young, one may yet be praised.”

These verses by the renowned Su Dongpo perfectly suited Zhao Jiu’s present state of mind.

When Su Dongpo wrote the poem, he too had been stranded far from home. Yet the poem was immensely positive. It offered encouragement and self-consolation while urging others onward as well. That was the positive meaning behind keeping vigil.

Well past midnight, the firecrackers that had fallen silent began exploding again.

Zhao Jiu awoke groggily and pressed his palms together. He exchanged the 2,700 taels of silver in his Storage Space for 27,000 God of Wealth Points.

His balance in the System rose to 41,600 God of Wealth Points.

The new year had to begin with shopping!

Six bottles of Mystic Insight Pills cost him 3,000 points. It barely stung. He was rich now, so he had to spend with confidence!

He still had some White Jade Flesh-Regeneration Pills, so there was no need to buy more for the moment.

The Discount Shop had refreshed. It was time to take a look.

He opened the Discount Shop.

Whoa!

As expected of the New Year, the very first product was something excellent:

Yuqing Xuanxu Scripture, only 2,000 God of Wealth Points.

What a bone-breaking discount!

Buy it! Buy it!

If he did not buy it now, when would he?

Since he had bought it, he naturally had to upgrade it.

His God of Wealth Points flowed away like water:

100, 200, 400, 800, 1,600, 3,200, 6,400.

He upgraded it directly from the First Level to the Seventh Level, spending 12,700 God of Wealth Points.

Without warning, Zhao Jiu sat down cross-legged. The righteous qi of heaven and earth flooded into him, and he entered a state of mystery upon mystery.

He seemed to perceive how heaven and earth at this moment differed from heaven and earth at any other time. For a while, new insights seemed to fill his mind.

The True Qi within him boiled and compressed. His previously abundant True Qi vanished in an instant.

Not daring to delay, Zhao Jiu took out the Mystic Insight Pills and swallowed them one after another. His True Qi soon filled him again, only to compress and disappear once more.

This continued until he had refined all the medicinal power in an entire bottle of Mystic Insight Pills. Only then did his True Qi stop changing, and a peal like a stone chime accompanied by the rumble of thunder echoed through his body.

He slowly exhaled a long breath of turbid air and sensed the changes within himself.

His True Qi rolled through his body like boiling water. With every breath, it continuously tempered his flesh. Only after fifteen minutes did it gradually subside.

Zhao Jiu carefully examined his condition.

It appeared that the Yuqing Xuanxu Scripture was not the end.

The Taiqing Yuxu Scripture had been a free gift from the System. When cultivating it in the past, he had always felt that something was missing. He had originally assumed that upgrading its level would gradually complete it, but even after reaching the Seventh Level, nothing had improved.

Even after purchasing the Yuqing Xuanxu Scripture and upgrading it to the Sixth Level, that feeling of incompleteness remained.

In that case, the problem could only lie with the cultivation technique itself.

Could he truly need to collect the complete set of the Three Pure Ones before they could be combined into a complete cultivation technique?

With that thought, Zhao Jiu continued scrolling through the Discount Shop.

The second product was the Seventy-Two Transformations.

Over ten billion.

He could not afford it!

The third was the Immortal-Binding Rope.

Also over ten billion.

Fuck!

Zhao Jiu: Here we go again. Here we go again!

Forget buying them. His paltry supply of God of Wealth Points would not even cover the loose change!

He could only continue scrolling.

Of the final two products, one was the Daoist Robe of the Jade-Pure Primordial Celestial Venerable. Its price was a nine followed by so many zeroes that Zhao Jiu could not count them. Anyone who knew what they were looking at would realize it was a price. Anyone who did not might mistake it for a bank card number.

The other was Lü Dongbin’s Pure Yang Sword.

That one was cheap. It only cost seven billion.

If nothing else, Zhao Jiu had clearly made it in life. He now considered seven billion cheap.

He did not dwell on it and mentally commanded the Panel to open.

Host: Zhao Jiu

Cultivation Rank: Fifth Rank

Martial Arts:

Chasing the Stars and Pursuing the Moon (Perfected)

Taiqing Yuxu Scripture (Seventh Level)/Yuqing Xuanxu Scripture (Seventh Level)

Heavenly Origin Saber Art (Minor Mastery)

Secret Arts:

Tang Sect Arcana: Thousand Flowers and Myriad Stamens/Bone-Eroding, Soul-Dissolving

Complete Transformation

Aura-Concealment Art

God of Wealth Points: 23,900

It was exactly as he had guessed!

No new cultivation technique had been added. Instead, as with the Tang Sect Arcana, another suffix had appeared behind the original entry.

It seemed there should still be a third scripture.

The Dao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Three, and Three gives birth to all things, after all.

He still had plenty of God of Wealth Points. He could simply wait.

Zhao Jiu closed the Panel, returned indoors, and went to sleep.