Chapter 14.1

At six-thirty in the morning, the roosters were already crowing. Unlike the usual quiet village mornings, every household was rushing to attend the final big market of the year.

Su Ying’s alarm rang for a while before she got up. Her father and mother were already awake too. Each of them carried a bamboo basket on their backs as they stepped out together.

Along the way, familiar neighbors and villagers walked in groups, heading toward the village bus stop.

They squeezed onto the bus, swaying back and forth during the ride, but everyone’s mood was filled with the festive excitement of the New Year. The bus was full of laughter and cheerful chatter.

Many university students who had been studying in other cities had already returned home. Today, they also carried baskets on their backs, heading to the big market with their families. Su Ying remembered how, when she was a student returning home for winter break, the moment she most looked forward to was this—because she could buy lots of delicious snacks. Whatever she couldn’t finish at home, she could take back to school.

Li Tangtang had also returned home for the New Year and was going to the market with her mother. Su Ying ran into her at the bus station. The two close friends linked arms and leaned against each other as they chatted.

“Why haven’t you updated lately?” Tangtang, who followed Su Ying’s account, asked.

“I just don’t know what to film, and I don’t want to put out halfhearted content,” Su Ying replied. She was still stuck in that creative rut. The inspiration from her first live broadcast had faded, and she hadn’t figured out her direction yet.

“I think you’re overthinking it. You’ve always been a perfectionist since we were kids,” Tangtang advised as she saw Su Ying’s troubled expression. “But really, no matter what you film, as long as it’s something you genuinely want to do, isn’t that enough?”

“A lot of your fans like your videos because they’re full of everyday life,” Tangtang continued. “I’m one of them. Honestly, watching your videos makes me think of all the memories from our childhood farm work.”

“Especially those wheat fields. As kids, I always thought they were so beautiful, but harvesting was exhausting. My hands would be full of blisters by the end of the wheat-cutting season.”

“Your videos feel so comforting. They make me want to move back home too. Work is just too draining,” Tangtang said sincerely. After all, who wouldn’t want to escape the grind?

Being a corporate workhorse was tough.

Su Ying fell into thought as she listened. It was true: when she started her channel, it was partly because she wanted to and partly to reassure her parents that even after moving back, she would still have a career.

What she truly wanted to showcase was her rural life, and perhaps also let more people know about her hometown.

So did the numbers really matter that much? Of course, follower counts were important, but since when had gaining followers become the only measure of success?

It was as if the fog she had been trapped in had suddenly cleared, and the road ahead was bright again.

Su Ying hugged Tangtang’s arm tightly. “I love you, Tangtang.”

Caught off guard by the sudden confession, Tangtang’s face turned red. “Ah! I know.”

“Of course, I’m your favorite,” she teased.

They were so caught up in their conversation that the bus ride seemed to fly by. It wasn’t until Su Ying’s parents and Tangtang’s mom called out for them to get off that they realized they had already arrived at the town.

The town entrance was crowded with people, and the big market was even more packed. To avoid getting separated, the families huddled close together as they walked toward the market.

The market was full of items for the New Year. Spring Festival couplets, “Fu” characters, window decorations, calendars—everywhere there were images of the zodiac snake for the coming year.

Su Ying’s parents and Tangtang’s mom squeezed in front of the couplets stalls, selecting the right sets. One set for the main gate, one set for the main hall, and one for each bedroom door. The sizes varied, but Su Ying’s parents bought them every year, so they knew the dimensions by heart.

Choosing the right pairings for the couplets was important too. Business owners often chose blessings for prosperity, while for the home, wishes for peace, harmony, and good fortune were preferred.

The couplets were displayed on boards behind the stall. Once you picked the design and wording you liked, you told the vendor the size, and they would dig it out from their boxes of stock for you to pay.

Su Ying’s parents also picked out plenty of hanging decorations and window decals. Nowadays, window decals used static cling instead of glue, so they wouldn’t leave sticky residue and were easy to clean.

After buying the couplets, the group moved on to the seeds and snack stall. Despite its name, the stall sold more than just melon seeds—it was like a mini convenience store full of dried fruits, preserved snacks, nuts, and candies.

Su Ying and Tangtang beamed with excitement as they looked at all the treats.

“Give me five pounds of pumpkin seeds, five pounds of black melon seeds, two pounds of winter melon candy, five pounds of pistachios, five pounds of peanuts, and five pounds of macadamia nuts. And remember to include a nutcracker,” Su Ying ordered, naming items as though she were reciting a menu.

The vendor and his family quickly weighed and packed up everything Su Ying had ordered.

“I’ll take the same as her, but add two more pounds of sunflower seeds,” Tangtang said, copying Su Ying’s entire list with just one extra addition.

“And give me a pound of sorghum candy too,” Su Ying added. That was the kind of snack you chewed slowly for the nostalgia more than anything.