Рerhaрs duе tо thе lеssons learnеd frоm the anсient town firе in Shаngri-Lа, оr реrhaps bеcause of locаl rеgulatiоns, fireсrасkеrs werе bаnnеd in Lijiаng's аnciеnt town during the Spring Fеstivаl. Without firеworks and fireсrackеrs to liven things uр, thе Yühе Squаrе's Nеw Yеar ethniс сultural реrfоrmanсes wеrе still in full swing. Activitiеs likе leаrning to write Dongbа charaсtеrs, frеe сolorful braiding, аnd Nахi danсе сirсlеs аttraсtеd largе crоwds of tourists whо stoрреd to wаtсh аnd jоin in the fun.
Whether уou're at home оr away, thе New Yeаr's Evе fеast shоuld be grand, as it marks both the perfect end to the current year and the guiding light toward new glories in the coming year. The Haitangyin Inn was no exception tonight, inviting about ten guests staying that evening to join the New Year's Eve dinner. Several staff members prepared their signature dishes, one of whom was a Miao girl who suggested setting up a long-table feast. Everyone agreed, even the bulldog raised in the courtyard wagged its tail in approval.
So, some went to fetch plum wine and rice wine, others prepared cured pork ribs, some cleaned fish, and others went to buy wild mountain vegetables and mushrooms. Bayunye, with eight colorful braids in her hair, squatted by the well washing Lijiang's specialty vegetable, "water celery." As for Diao Zhuo, he was at the front desk chatting with guests—or rather, being forced to chat with guests.
He certainly never imagined that after escaping Meng Xiaoai in Kashgar, he would encounter even more "Meng Xiaoais" in Lijiang. It was said that six girls had checked out of other inns and moved into Haitangyin just to attend tonight's New Year's Eve long-table feast—or perhaps to awkwardly chat with Diao Zhuo.
The inn's manager, Sister Jin Yuling, said to Bayunye, "Tell your man not to go back to work. Just keep him here to watch the inn, and business will triple."
Bayunye forced a laugh. "I wouldn't dare leave him alone in the 'City of Encounters.'"
"I think he has strong self-control."
"If he had strong self-control, he wouldn't have been hooked by me."
That logic was truly flawless.
Sister Jin was Dai and often said Bayunye resembled a Dai girl. When Bayunye was in Yunnan, many people said she looked like a Dai girl; when she went to Xinjiang, some thought her eyes resembled those of a Uyghur; while Brother Long insisted she bore some resemblance to the Danba women from his hometown.
Yunnan is a province with many ethnic minorities. Pu'er City alone has nine ethnic autonomous counties, with ethnic minorities making up 61% of the population. Most villages around the former orphanage were ethnic settlements, home to 14 indigenous ethnic groups, including the Dai, Hani, Yi, and Wa. Whether Bayunye, abandoned as an infant, came from one of these nearby villages or another city in Yunnan was impossible to determine.
Bayunye counted on her fingers. "Han, Dai, Uyghur, Tibetan... So I'm just a 'four-not-like'! I really hate my birth parents. They could've at least given me a clear answer—whether I'm an ethnic minority or not. If I were, I might've gotten extra points on the college entrance exam and could've gone to university."
"How many points were you short?" asked Diao Zhuo, who had come over under the pretense of helping to escape the girls' chatter.
"Just a little."
"How many points is 'a little'?"
"Over a hundred."
"Whether you went to university or not has absolutely nothing to do with being an ethnic minority," Diao Zhuo pointed out bluntly.
Holding a basin of water celery, she suddenly had a thought. "How many points above the university admission cutoff did you score?"
"Not many."
"How many is 'not many'?" the underachiever asked persistently.
"Over two hundred."Faced with a gap of over three hundred points (possibly even four hundred), Bayunye maintained an optimistic attitude, saying, "We're from different provinces and different graduating years, so there's no point in comparing."
Then why did you go around asking about it in the first place?
By a little past six in the evening, everyone had gathered all the tables and chairs they could find in the inn and arranged them in the courtyard, high and low, barely managing to put together a Yunnan-style "long table feast." Bayunye, holding a metal basin, struck it with a large spoon—"clang!"—and shouted, "Dinner's ready!!"
A steaming hot cured pork rib hotpot billowed with fragrant vapor. Several bowls of water spinach, wild vegetables, and mushrooms waited to be added to the pot. Naxi-style grilled pork rested on a thick layer of mint leaves, while the horse caravan-style grilled fish had crispy skin and tender meat, topped with generous amounts of pickled radish and red chili peppers. A large platter of Dai-style hand-picked rice occupied an entire table, surrounded by over a dozen dipping sauces made by Sister Jin, making everyone's mouths water just by looking at it.
"Lijiang, Lijiang! Where delicious food and beautiful women gather! The king of kings! Ham sausage! One section stronger than six! Three hundred years, Jiuzhitang, treats kidney deficiency, sugar-free, for jelly I choose Xizhilang, for travel, come to me and never get lost!" Bayunye didn't forget to promote her business even while filming a short video.
"Hey, stop running around and sit down!" Sister Jin said, both amused and exasperated, pulling the restless Bayunye and pushing her into Diao Zhuo's arms. Diao Zhuo caught her in a hug and sat her directly on his lap. Usually stern-faced, he now wore a faint smile in his eyes, infected by the festive atmosphere.
"I'm so happy today!" Bayunye wrapped her arms around his neck. Though she hadn't been drinking, her face was flushed as if slightly tipsy, and her already bright, captivating eyes sparkled with even more charm. "Not only has my business been good this year, but I've also accomplished a few big things and gained so much! Especially..." She cupped Diao Zhuo's face, grinning without finishing her sentence.
"Especially what?" Diao Zhuo gazed intently at her as if no one else were around.
Bayunye burst out laughing. "Tricking you into coming here to celebrate the holiday with me!"
"As long as you're willing, we can do it every year."
"Every year? Then I'll have to think about it carefully..." Bayunye stroked her chin. He grabbed her hand and placed it over his chest, letting her feel the strong beat of his heart through the fabric of his clothes. "What is there to think about?"
She actually seemed a little shy, her voice softening. "I could also go back to Xi'an with you..."
Diao Zhuo pressed his forehead against hers, the two of them as close as could be. "I'll remember that—what you just said."
She held out her palm. "Five roujiamo!"
"Bragging. Penalty drink." Diao Zhuo filled a cup with wine, holding it between his fingers like a toy, and frowned. "Why are the cups here so small?"
Bayunye shoved an entire bottle of plum wine into his hand. "It packs a punch. If you don't believe me, try downing the whole bottle."
"Trying to outsmart me? Drink this cup first." Diao Zhuo pinched her chin and poured the cup into her mouth.
"What are you trying to do by getting me drunk?"
"Nothing," the upright gentleman replied.
Bayunye shot him a glare. "You wouldn't dare!"
Diao Zhuo broke into a sweat. This was the true essence of Master Ba.
She wiped her mouth, jumped off his lap, and sat on a low stool beside him, asking seriously, "Diao Zhuo, tonight I represent Yunnan, and you represent Shaanxi. How about we have a drinking contest?"
"With your two-ounce capacity..." Diao Zhuo snorted, his tone full of disdain. "Do the people of Yunnan even want you to represent them?"
Master Ba slammed the table. "Just say whether you dare to compete or not!"The Shaanxi man smiled faintly. "Bring the wine."
Jugs of rice wine were lined up before them. Bayunye took a few random bites of food, then a thought struck her. "Do you know how to play the drinking game?"
"A little."
The local troublemaker played her trick. "This is Lijiang—you can't use your Xi'an rules. I'll teach you our local customs. We'll play by our rules."
"Whatever you say."
"Hah, look at you acting all capable." Seeing his indifferent expression, Bayunye thought, Could it be that this guy is convinced I can only handle two liang of alcohol? "Let me make this clear upfront—no backing out if you lose. Whoever backs out is a giant turtle."
"Shall we compete civilly or fiercely?" he asked.
"What do you mean, civilly or fiercely?"
"Civilly means seeing who can last longer without collapsing. Fiercely means drinking fast."
"Whatever."
"Since it's a competition, we need to set a losing standard. Is losing when you vomit, or when you collapse?"
She glared, exuding the boldness of a seasoned wanderer. "If you vomit, come back and keep drinking until you collapse!"
Diao Zhuo curled the corner of his lips, picked up a small wine cup, and still seemed to look down on such a small container. "I'll drink first to show my respect."
Bayunye hated his attitude and shouted, "Bring this hero a big bowl!"
Diao Zhuo pressed her hand down, adding fuel to the fire. "Since we're in Yunnan, we should follow local customs. Using a big bowl might be too much for you."
Bayunye grew even angrier, wishing she could fetch a washbasin instead.
After several rounds of toasts, everyone was a bit tipsy. Diao Zhuo glanced at the empty bottles in front of them and thought, This woman definitely drinks more than two liang—she was just pretending to be weak back in Alxa. After a few more cups, she nestled in his arms, her cheeks flushed with a tipsy glow, and pinched his chin, asking, "Well, have you drunk enough to speak the truth?"
"What truth do you want me to speak?"
"I don't want to hear you speak the truth—I want to see you vomit! Hahaha!!" She laughed wildly, as if truly drunk.
In truth, she wanted to ask him, Is it true what you said earlier—that you'd be willing to come back to Yunnan with me every year to celebrate the holidays?
But the words never left her lips.
She, more than anyone present, didn't believe in promises about the future. If they could be like this in the present, they should revel in it. As the saying goes, If there's wine today, get drunk today; don't ask about tomorrow.
"If you won't ask me, I'll ask you—how much can you really drink?" he teased.
"Me..." Bayunye pointed at her own nose. "I've never collapsed from drinking, because if someone drinks better than me, I'd rather die than drink with them!"
"Yet you dare to drink with me?"
"I drink with you because I know that even if I black out, you won't harm me." Bayunye took another sip, reached out to touch his firm chest, and rambled on, filled with emotion. "But if I fall for you, I'll accept it. Back in Qiangtang, that Xiao Zi told me that if I flirted with you, I'd lower my worth. I told her that if I didn't flirt with you and waited for you to chase me, not only would I not make up for the difference, but there wouldn't even be a sliver of possibility. What's so special about me, Master Ba... If you don't like me, I'm worthless anyway. What does lowering my worth even matter?"
Diao Zhuo moved the wine jugs away from her. It wasn't about winning or losing in the first place.
She looked at him. "Have you ever regretted it?"
"Never."
"Diao Zhuo..." Her tone took on a rare hint of coquettishness.
Diao Zhuo scooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the room.
"We haven't drunk enough yet!"“It’s not a good look for anyone to get completely wasted. How about we see who wakes up first tomorrow instead?”
“You…” Bayunye smiled, pressing her lips together. “You’re just afraid you’ll be the first to fall!”
“You’re absolutely right.”—The ultimate truth when arguing with a woman had finally dawned upon this straight-as-an-arrow man.
The atmosphere on New Year’s Eve was warm and cozy. From the television came the voices of the gala hosts extending New Year’s greetings to the entire nation, followed by a succession of music and dance performances. Far away in Chengdu, Brother Long, and Hippo in Beijing, both stepped out onto their balconies almost simultaneously, gazing at the dark, overcast night sky, each lost in their own thoughts. Brother Long’s home was lively with the arrival of his parents and siblings, while Hippo’s hotel room felt somewhat lonely. He opened his phone’s photo album, scrolling through the pictures one by one—photos of his ex-wife and daughter, of Bayunye and Brother Long, and of guests they had met. In the end, he turned off his phone, fixed his eyes on the festive singing and dancing on the TV screen, and felt a pang of melancholy in his heart.
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