Chapter 263: Do You Miss Home?

Chapter 263: Chapter 263: Do You Miss Home?

As the two of them spoke, several children ran wild, darting between the front and back yards. Dahuang was beyond annoyed, but Jia, Yi, Bing, and Ding energetically scurried after them.

Dabao sat beside Ji Huan, never leaving his stool. When Hu Dacheng and the others started playing "eagle catching chicks," a game Ji Huan had taught them, he did stare for a little while.

Ji Huan told him to join in, saying it was more fun with more people.

He shook his head, saying it was childish.

Ji Huan was so annoyed she wanted to smack him.

After a while, Hu Dacheng and the others, tired from playing, ran over covered in sweat, wanting to share the mooncakes.

The mooncakes of the Great Zhou Dynasty were, on the whole, quite similar to those of later generations, just a bit thinner and not as exquisite.

Molds for making mooncakes already existed at this time. They were typically made from hard, fine-grained woods like jujube or pearwood. One or several hollows would be carved into the wood, and then intricate patterns were engraved at the bottom. After being polished smooth, the molds were ready for use.

To make the mooncakes, one simply had to wrap the prepared filling in kneaded dough, then press the dough firmly into the mold to set its shape. The mold was then flipped over and its sides were tapped evenly all around until the mooncake became compact. Once removed, a mooncake imprinted with a specific pattern was formed.

All in all, it was a time- and labor-saving process. The only drawback was that the mooncake’s style was entirely dependent on the mold.

A good mooncake mold, however, required a craftsman to carve it meticulously, one cut at a time, so the patterns were inevitably limited. They were usually hibiscus flowers, scrolling vines, the "double happiness" symbol, characters for "Fortune, Prosperity, and Longevity," or other auspicious designs like rabbits, double fish, or qilin.

There was another type of mooncake that didn’t require a mold, much like a flaky, multi-layered pastry.

The decorative patterns on this type were painted on with pigments, making them much more varied in comparison. They could be painted with anything—figures, landscapes, flowers, birds, and beasts, encompassing all sorts of subjects.

But the most common were scenes of Wu Gang chopping the osmanthus tree, Chang’e flying to the moon, the Jade Rabbit pounding medicine, and court ladies worshiping the moon.

They looked interesting enough, but the patterns tended to get scorched during baking. And when you ate them, you had to peel off the top, pigment-stained crispy layer.

Neither type of mooncake tasted very good.

Ji Huan herself wasn’t a big fan of mooncakes. She had experimented with all sorts of foods and pastries, but had never tried making mooncakes. Otherwise, she would have made them herself this time.

But Widow Xie had insisted that it wouldn’t be a proper Mid-Autumn Festival without eating mooncakes.

Ji Huan had no choice but to share a jujube paste-filled one with Dabao, giving him the larger piece.

Dabao’s little face was scrunched up in distaste, but Ji Huan pretended not to notice. She had to down two cups of water just to force her own piece down.

After eating the mooncakes, the Mid-Autumn Festival activities were more or less over.

Widow Xie was worried about her elderly mother at home, and her young children, Xiao’an and Hua, were getting sleepy. After helping Ji Huan clean up, the family headed home.

Dabao was also getting a little sleepy. He leaned against Ji Huan, his little head nodding.

Ji Huan wiped his face and washed his feet, but he didn’t wake up. She carried him to the kang bed, and he was sound asleep the moment she tucked the blanket over him.

Looking at Dabao’s sleeping face, Ji Huan’s heart felt soft and warm.

’Dabao has been living with me since last year, but it seems like only recently has he truly started to think of this house as his home.’

’In the past, no matter how soundly he was sleeping, he would startle awake at the slightest sound I made.’

’Things are much better now. As long as I’m not gone for too long, he can still sleep soundly.’

Ji Huan mulled it over. ’It’s time to put the "separate rooms" plan back on the agenda.’

’I’d tried several times since the beginning of spring, but none of my attempts had been successful.’

’The main problem was my own lack of resolve. The moment Dabao put on that on-the-verge-of-tears look, I could never bring myself to be firm.’

’But he’s already six, and he’ll be seven by the new year...’

She made up her mind. ’This time, no matter what, I can’t waver. I have to be ruthless to the very end.’

All was silent. Ji Huan wrapped up a few mooncakes and left her courtyard.

As expected, the vagrant was not asleep. He was sitting alone at the entrance of the main hall, gazing up at the moon, lost in thought.

Ji Huan entered the courtyard and sat down beside the vagrant.

The vagrant’s gaze shifted from the moon in the sky to the person before him.

He showed no surprise at her arrival at this hour, though he must have found it a little strange, since she had just brought him dinner a short while ago.

Ji Huan placed her basket on the ground, lifted the cloth cover, and offered him a mooncake.

"Aunt Xie says the Mid-Autumn Festival isn’t complete without mooncakes," she said. "We happened to have a few left over that we couldn’t finish, so I brought them for you to try."

The vagrant lowered his gaze to the thin, round object. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and took it.

Under Ji Huan’s intense stare, he brought it to his lips and took a bite.

"How is it?"

Ji Huan stared at him, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"Tastes a little weird, right? Hahahahaha... To be honest, I’m not... a huge fan either..."

Ji Huan’s laughter slowly died down. She warned herself for the eight-hundredth time: ’Never joke with the vagrant again. One wrong move and it turns into a cringey joke, and I’m the only one who ends up feeling awkward.’

The vagrant ate his mooncake in silence while Ji Huan propped her chin on her hand and gazed at the moon.

’They say the moon is roundest on the sixteenth day of the lunar month, not the fifteenth, but tonight’s moon is just massive.’

The sky was as clear as water, the moon as bright as a mirror. It was as if the silvery light of the Milky Way had burst forth, pouring its cool brilliance down upon the mortal world, illuminating the night until it was nearly as bright as day.

’I’d only ever seen a moon this big when I was very little.’

’It wasn’t as harsh as daylight, nor as forbidding as the dead of night. It was something in between—gentle, soothing. It could easily pluck the dust-covered string deep in your heart, making it hum with a sorrowful, nostalgic tune.’

"When I was little," she began to speak, "on nights with a big moon just like this, I’d gather with a bunch of friends in the open space in front of my house. We’d play with our jump ropes made of rubber bands, or dodgeball with sandbags... We’d play so, so late into the night."

"The strange thing was, the later it got, the brighter the moon seemed to shine. You could clearly see the shadows of our swinging pigtails bouncing on the ground, and you could make out every single smiling face around you..."

"No one ever wanted to go home, but we always had to in the end. Our families would already be asleep, so we’d inevitably get a scolding. But the next day, we’d all be back in the same spot, ready to play again..."

"Another time, my friends came to get me to go to... well, to a certain place. They said it was already bright outside and asked why I wasn’t up yet. I groggily climbed out of bed and went with them. It was a half-hour walk, you know? At first, we were full of energy, just laughing and messing around. But the farther we walked, the more something felt wrong."

"The sky was so bright, but where was the sun? If it was daytime, why hadn’t the moon set yet? And... why was the sky starting to get darker?"

"When we finally got there, all flustered, the gate was still locked. We pounded on it with all our might until the old gatekeeper woke up. He threw on some clothes and came out, grumbling and swearing, ’What’s the big rush in the middle of the night? You in a hurry to get reincarnated or something?!’"

"After he was done yelling, he went right back to sleep and refused to open the gate for us. That’s when we finally got scared. We all huddled in a row against the wall, just watching as the sky grew completely dark again, and then as the sun finally, slowly, began to rise... Looking back, it was all the moon’s fault, wasn’t it?"

"Later on, I stopped looking at the moon so much... because I grew up. Because the buildings were tall and the smog was thick, and they hid the moon from view. And also because... looking at the moon reminded me of my old home, and my family... Are you homesick?"

Out of the blue, Ji Huan asked him this.