Going home for the Chinese New Year with a year-end bonus of 100 million

The twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month.

The air is already filled with the strong aroma of the New Year – the gunpowder scent of distant firecrackers and the aroma of cured meat wafting from every household's kitchen.

Yang Fan and Yang Ya slept in late, which was a rare treat for them.

There's no heating in the house, so the bed is the happiest haven.

With the winter break at home, my nerves, which had been tense for a year, were completely relaxed, and I slept straight until after 10 a.m.

Until Wang Xiuying pushed open the door, bringing in a whiff of warmth from the kitchen and the aroma of food:

"Still sleeping? Get up and eat!"

The brother and sister then groggily got up.

Outside, the sky was a bright, grayish-white, typical of winter, and it was chilly, but as soon as you stepped into the main room, warmth enveloped you.

The stove was burning brightly, and the food was already laid out on the table—rice, a plate of stir-fried cabbage, a bowl of glistening cured meat, and a small dish of homemade pickled vegetables.

"Dad, Mom, have you eaten?" Yang Fan rubbed his face and sat down at the table.

"We've already eaten, we're just waiting for you two lazybones." Yang Jianguo sat by the stove warming himself, poking at the charcoal with fire tongs.

"Eat quickly, so you can get back to work."

Wang Xiuying took off her apron, wiping her hands as she instructed, "Xiaoya, you'll come with me to make soy milk and tofu later."

"Nothing sold on the street tastes as good as homemade tofu. During the Lunar New Year, you have to eat homemade tofu to get that real flavor."

"Okay, Mom," Yang Ya mumbled, picking up a piece of cured meat.

"Xiao Fan," Wang Xiuying said to her son, "you and your father, clean out that pig's head so we can stew it for the New Year tomorrow."

Yang Fan nodded: "Okay."

"Also," Wang Xiuying continued, "I'll go wash some more radishes later and make more pork rib and radish soup."

"This soup is wonderful! During the Lunar New Year holidays, when I cook noodles or rice noodles in the morning, I use a couple of spoonfuls of this soup as a base—it makes it so delicious!"

Yang Jianguo interjected, "The radishes in the field haven't been pulled up yet, have they? Why don't we have Xiao Fan go and get the radishes back first?"

"Yes, Xiaofan," Wang Xiuying said, "go to the field and pick some radishes, the long, green ones, they're sweet when used in soup. Pick a lot, they'll keep well."

"Okay, Mom." Yang Fan ate his rice, but he wasn't impatient at all.

On the contrary, listening to these trivial yet specific arrangements and seeing his parents' busy but expectant faces, he truly felt:

The Chinese New Year is approaching.

People are always like this: they are happiest when they are infinitely close to happiness.

When the festivities finally come to tomorrow, on New Year's Eve, after the excitement has subsided, we might find it "nothing special."

But today, the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, nothing has started yet, everything is in preparation. That anticipation and busyness are the strongest manifestation of the New Year's atmosphere.

After the meal, Yang Fan wanted to help his father prepare the pig's head, but Yang Jianguo waved his hand:

"I can do this myself. Slow and steady wins the race."

"Hurry up and go pick the radishes while the sun is still shining and the ground isn't frozen."

"Dad, can you manage this all by yourself?" Yang Fan asked.

"Why can't I manage? I do it myself every year, don't I?" Yang Jianguo laughed. "If you're really bored, just wash the radishes clean. Go on."

Yang Fan smiled and didn't insist any further.

He put on an old coat, grabbed a hoe, slung a bamboo basket over his shoulder, and went out the door.

The dirt roads in the village had hardened from the continuous sunny days, but the ridges of the fields were still covered with a thin layer of white frost.

The air was crisp and cool; breathing it in felt refreshingly invigorating.

Yang Fan's radish field is located at the west end of the village; it's not a large plot.

Picking radishes isn't tiring work; it's even a bit stress-relieving. Before long, the basket was almost half full.

"Hey, Xiao Fan, picking radishes?" Old Man Yang, a neighbor who was passing by, greeted him with a smile as he carried a hoe.

"Hey, Third Master!" Yang Fan straightened up. "I'm going to pick some radishes to make soup. What are you doing?"

"Go check on the cabbages in the field, and cut a couple back." Old Man Yang stopped. "How's the preparation going? Is everything for the New Year?"

"That's about it, just a few odds and ends left," Yang Fan said with a smile. "And yours?"

"Everything's ready! We're just waiting for tomorrow!" The wrinkles on Third Master Yang's face smoothed out.

"Life is best during the New Year, it's so lively! With you back this year, the house is even more lively!"

After chatting for a few more minutes, Master Yang slowly walked away.

Yang Fan continued to work diligently, and the lingering resentment in his heart due to his uncle's family affairs gradually dissipated amidst the tranquility of the winter fields and the simple greetings with his neighbors.

After filling his basket, Yang Fan carried the radishes to the stream near the village.

The river water was clear, shallow, and icy cold. He found a flat rock, squatted down, and carefully washed each radish in the water.

He washed it clean and put it back in the basket. The basket was heavy, weighing down his shoulders, but Yang Fan walked briskly.

As Yang Fan carried the radish and approached the gate of his yard, he paused.

Parked by the courtyard wall was an old gray Volkswagen sedan, with many scratches and mud spots on its body, looking quite old.

Whose car is this?

Are my relatives here?

He pushed open the half-closed courtyard gate, walked into the main room, and sure enough, saw a young man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old sitting on the sofa drinking tea.

"Xiao Fan is back?" The young man saw him and immediately stood up, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Brother De?" Yang Fan recognized him; this was his maternal uncle's son, his cousin Wang De.

The two families don't interact frequently, and their relationship is much better than Yang Lei's, but not particularly close either.

Wang De works in the county town; it seems he works at a car repair shop.

"Hey, it's me." Wang De walked over and casually patted Yang Fan on the shoulder.

"Good lad, you look even more energetic than I've seen in over a year!"

Wang Xiuying was peeling garlic at the kitchen door when she saw her son return and said:

"Xiao Fan, your brother De is here. Talk to him for a bit, I've got some water boiling in the pot."

"Auntie, you go about your business!" Wang De quickly said.

Yang Fan put the basket in the corner, washed his hands, and sat down on the sofa.

Wang De's gaze swept around the room before landing on Yang Fan, his tone filled with envy and inquiry:

"Xiao Fan, I heard from the villagers that you've made a fortune outside this year!"

"Look, they've replaced the refrigerator and TV in this house!" He leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"I also heard you bought a nice car? A Mercedes worth over 500,000 yuan? That's impressive, cousin!"

Yang Fan smiled and said casually, "Brother De, don't listen to the rumors in the village. I just got lucky and made a little money. I only bought the car because I needed it for work; it's just for transportation."

"Oh, don't be modest!" Wang De patted him again, not lightly at all.

"You call that a 'commuter car' costing over 500,000? My beat-up old car, secondhand, only cost 50,000 when I bought it! It can't compare to yours!"

He sat down again, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and his eyes flickered.

Yang Fan didn't want to continue the topic, so he asked, "Brother De, what brings you here today? It's almost Chinese New Year, aren't you busy?"

"Oh, is that so?" Wang De put down his teacup, rubbed his hands together, and his smile widened, tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Xiao Fan, I'm here today because I really need your help with something."

"What is it? Tell me."

"So... could I borrow your car for a bit today?" Wang De asked, his voice quickening as he looked at Yang Fan's expression.

"Look, I'm going to your sister-in-law's parents' house to pick her up."

"Her family home is over 100 kilometers away, which isn't a short distance. You can see my beat-up car; driving it there would be degrading and unsafe, as it's always breaking down."

He leaned forward slightly: "Take your car, that'll be different! It'll make you look good! It'll make your sister-in-law proud back home!"

"Don't worry, I drive very safely!"

"Just use it today, and I'll definitely bring it back for you tomorrow, or at the latest tomorrow afternoon. Is that alright?"