Chapter 72: New Year’s Eve
Chapter 72: New Year's Eve
The Barren Moon Continent, its name came from the strange moon that hung in its skies, unlike that of any other land. Vast and desolate, it was five to six times larger than the moons seen elsewhere, clearer, brighter... almost oppressive.
On cloudless nights, the silhouettes of jagged peaks on that colossal moon were so stark, so barren, they could be seen clearly with the naked eye. Ridges winding endlessly, ravines of varying depths… etched into every mortal’s heart like the old stone bridges over a village creek, worn by generations, steeped in memory.
New Year's Eve was a cherished festival engraved deep in the heart of every commoner on the Barren Moon Continent, a day of reunion, warmth, and reverence.
Set during the middle of the twelfth lunar month, when the moon reached its fullest, people would gather to sing and dance under its glow, offer up the finest demonic beasts they’d hunted all year, and uncork their best-aged wine. Whether the entire city joined in revelry or families kept to their hearths, the spirit was the same.
No one returned home sober under that moon. Arms draped over shoulders, they drank and reminisced, boasting of valor and dreams...
Scholars composed verses with wine-soaked passion, bold and stirring. Maidens played passing games beneath the moonlight, eyes meeting shyly, hearts fluttering with spring’s stirrings.
…
By now, dusk had fallen. The massive full moon had already risen into the sky.
Li Yan sat alone on the stone platform, gazing at the distant, mist-veiled mountains. His eyes were unfocused, as though trying to pierce through the millions of li to return to that familiar foothill beneath Great Qing Mountain.
He hadn’t come out today just to practice spells. A few nights ago, seeing that immense moon from his courtyard had stirred a deep homesickness in his heart. Time had flown, another year was ending.
It had been over a year since he left the mountain village. Last year’s New Year Eve, he had spent on the run, too busy surviving to dwell on longing for home.
But now, beneath the same full moon as years past, a flood of memories overwhelmed him.
From dawn, he’d found it hard to sit in meditation. So he came early to the platform, half to practice spells, half to await the moon’s rise.
He stared blankly into the distance. The village must be alive with the crackle of firecrackers by now.
Golden-roasted, fragrant offerings of demonic beast meat were surely laid beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance. The children would be drooling around the offerings, chasing one another in loud circles.
Then, at the scolding of the adults, they’d dart off toward the edge of the village, only to come running back again moments later in another round of laughter and play.
Every few moments, people would glance skyward, hoping for the moon to rise directly above the old willow tree. That was the signal to begin the ancestral rites and then the feast could begin in earnest.
The village head would make a round with a wine bowl, drinking a mouthful with every man present. Then, as tradition dictated, he’d give each child a firm pat on the head, wishing them swift growth. By midnight, some of the drunkards would be asleep with arms wrapped around the old willow, dozing under the enormous moon till dawn.
His father would show a rare smile while puffing his pipe, drinking strong spirits with old friends, occasionally gesturing toward his children with the pipe stem.
Third Brother, limping slightly, would come sit beside Father with a quiet smile. He’d murmur a few words now and then, usually urging Father not to drink too much.
Mother and Fourth Sister would be busy as always, bustling to and fro with steaming meat and fluffy buns. Occasionally, they’d run into a young man from the village, and the womenfolk, Mother and the aunties would burst into laughter and teasing, whispering and gesturing playfully.
Then they’d find their daughters in the crowd, whispering in their ears. Fourth Sister and the other girls would blush furiously, flustered but continuing their serving.
The young men, red-faced under the aunties’ teasing, would sneak glances at the girls through the rowdy cheers of the crowd...
Li Yan remained frozen in place, staring into the distance, thoughts tumbling in his mind. At some point, tears were silently flowing down his cheeks.
After a long while, he finally looked away and raised his gaze toward the massive moon that seemed almost within reach. In its radiant surface, he could almost see the faces of loved ones, etched clearly in memory.
Wiping away his tears, he stood, smoothed his robes, and knelt solemnly beneath the moon, murmuring:
“Father… Mother… Happy New Year. Happy… New Year…”
Then he bowed low, knocking his head to the ground several times in reverence.
Just as he was about to rise, a voice came from behind, cool and slightly hesitant.
“You… you mortals really have a tradition like this? New Year's Eve?”
Li Yan shot to his feet and spun around sharply.
“Who’s there?!”
Turning, he saw a tall, slender woman in white standing at the platform’s edge. She was gazing at him with an uncertain expression.
“…It’s you?”
Caught mid-reverie, Li Yan’s emotions flared. His tone carried a trace of anger and accusation.
Moonlight spilled silver across the platform, illuminating the figure clearly. It was the white-clad senior sister from Boundless Peak, Zhao Min, whom he had met months ago.
She stood by the bamboo grove at the trail’s edge, her robes fluttering softly in the breeze. Under the moonlight, her chiseled features glowed with an almost sacred luminance.
Beneath her jet-black brows, her clear eyes remained cool as they met his.
“What? Am I not allowed here?”
She frowned slightly, displeased by the sternness in Li Yan’s voice.
Li Yan furrowed his brow in turn, but quickly recalled where they were.
“Right... this isn’t my little bamboo courtyard. Why would she not be allowed here?”
Still, he voiced his question, though this time more mildly.
“This is Little Bamboo Peak. Normally, disciples from the other four peaks don’t come past the halfway point. I’ve never seen anyone from other peaks up here.”
Indeed, during these past months, he had only ever encountered others at the mountainside paths. Aside from the known trails, the rest of Little Bamboo Peak seemed untouched by outsiders, almost as if restricted.
He had once asked Second Senior Brother about it while collecting spirit stones in the main hall, and learned that those trails were indeed where disciples from other peaks came to fulfill missions.
“You know a bit, it seems. But what, I’m not allowed in the back mountains now?”
The white-robed girl clearly wasn’t pleased by Li Yan’s earlier tone.
“It’s not that you’re not allowed… it’s just… other peak disciples rarely come here.”
Li Yan had never actually confirmed if there was a rule against it. He’d just never seen it happen. Now, embarrassed that his emotions had gotten the better of him, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Seeing Li Yan’s expression, Zhao Min couldn’t stay angry. After all, she’d only come here on a whim herself. Having overheard his words earlier, a spark of curiosity had stirred in her heart.
She had heard of this so-called “New Year's Eve” among mortals since she was young, an important, lively event that people placed great significance on but she had never witnessed it herself.
“Oh, this place… I used to come here often,” she said, her tone softening, though still tinged with a cool detachment. “But after I left Little Bamboo Peak, I stopped coming. You’re not wrong, disciples from other peaks aren’t allowed on the back mountain of Little Bamboo Peak.”
As she spoke, Zhao Min stepped lightly onto the platform. Her graceful stride brought her slowly to its edge, where she stood facing the immense, round moon.
Li Yan blinked in surprise.
“Judging by what she just said... was she once a disciple of Little Bamboo Peak too? Could she be one of those who left the peak long ago? That would explain why she can come here freely and why she seems so familiar with this place.”
Standing at the cliff’s edge, Zhao Min gazed dreamily at the great moon, then turned to look out over the mountain ranges cloaked in the velvet of night.
The moonlight poured over her figure like silver water. Her face, as flawless as sculpted jade, glowed with a gentle, luminous sheen, pure and ethereal.
She stood facing the wind, her white robes billowing behind her. The breeze pressed the fabric close to her body, outlining the proud curve of her chest, while her long, straight legs appeared all the more striking beneath the moonlight.
In that moment, under the silver glow, Zhao Min looked like a celestial maiden descended from the moonlit heavens. Li Yan found himself utterly entranced.
After asking her question, Zhao Min had also drifted into her own thoughts. But after a time, hearing no sound from behind, her brows knitted faintly.
She glanced back over her shoulder and when she caught sight of Li Yan staring at her with a dazed, slack-jawed expression, a flush bloomed on her delicate face. She gave a soft, disdainful tsk.
Startled back to his senses by the sound, Li Yan’s face turned red. He coughed awkwardly twice and scrambled to speak, desperate to look away.
“Zhao... Zhao Senior Sister, this ‘New Year's Eve’ is something we have back home. I’ve never been far from our village, but folks who traveled said they saw the same in other places, too.”
He paused, then added, “But... it seems like the sect doesn’t celebrate it at all. I didn’t see any decorations or signs of it today.”
“The sect?” Zhao Min gave a cold snort. “New Year's Eve? Hmph... in this sect, all anyone ever does is cultivate. Who has time for something like warmth, or human sentiment?” She paused, then asked quietly, “Can you tell me more about this New Year's Eve among mortals?”
Li Yan felt a ripple of unease.
“She dares speak so bluntly about the sect? That’s bold... If the elders or the Law Enforcement Hall heard that, she’d be in serious trouble.”
“Has she really never been to a mortal town? Was she raised entirely within the sect?”
More questions bubbled up in his heart, but he kept them to himself. Still, he mused inwardly:
“Seems this Senior Sister joined the sect even earlier than Seventh Senior Brother. He was twelve when he was discovered and brought in. She... might have grown up in the sect since infancy.”
After a moment of silence, Zhao Min quietly sat down at the platform’s edge. Her long legs dangled into the open air, gently swinging as she leaned back to gaze at the moonlit sky.
Her voice was soft, wistful:
“I’ve never stayed in a mortal town. But I’ve heard stories from other disciples, how peaceful it is... and how lively, too.
"Peaceful in the way the days pass, working at sunrise, resting at sundown, day after day, year after year.
"Families and friends gathering often... children playing at their parents’ feet, running with lanterns through the streets, chasing and laughing with their little friends.
"Everyone gathered around a table, smiling, talking together... But I’ve only ever heard of such things. I’ve never experienced them.”
Standing behind her, Li Yan listened to her quiet words and thought of his own home, his sister, his childhood friends in the village.
Without realizing it, he took a few steps forward, finally sitting down at the opposite edge of the platform, a modest distance from the white-robed girl.
He sighed inwardly. Looking at the silhouette of the young woman under the moonlight, he couldn’t help but feel that she seemed... lonely.
His heart settled into calm.
“She’s just asking about a custom everyone knows,” he thought. “And it’s not like I want to go back early anyway.”
So he began to speak gently:
“Mortals have their own joys... but also deep sorrows.
"My home lies a million li from here, at the foot of Great Qing Mountain. A small village, just a few dozen families. The terraces wrap around us like waves, and there are a few old locust trees near the entrance.
"When the New Year's Eve approaches, it’s nearly spring. The rapeseed blossoms open in waves beyond the village, and wildflowers dot the fields.
"That morning, every household begins preparing the most lavish feast of the year. Children play in the streets. My mother and elder sister, along with the village aunties, bring out flour and demon beast meat.
"They start cooking from dawn, frying, roasting, steaming... Smoke rises from every chimney, the whole village filled with the scent of good food.
"My father and Third Brother work with the other villagers to clean the ancestral hall, arrange the offerings, sweep the yards...”
Under the bright full moon, the world was silent except for the whisper of the wind. A boy and a girl sat side by side on the edge of a high platform, gazing up at the moon and speaking softly.
The great orb hung in the sky like a glowing mirror, its silver light casting a halo around the pair. Occasionally, the girl would ask a quiet question, and Li Yan would gently tell her about the simple, ordinary joys of the mortal world…
(Chapter End)