Colorful years

As soon as Congcong stepped out of the house, it was as if he had fallen into a deep, dark pool, instantly enveloped by the thick, dark night.

He subconsciously looked up and saw that the sky above him was like a huge black velvet cloth, dotted with countless dazzling stars, twinkling and blinking as if telling the world the mysterious stories of the universe.

Looking further into the distance, the rolling mountains appear and disappear in the night, like a winding, coiling dragon, its majestic form stretching to the horizon, seemingly connecting with the vast and boundless sky.

The nearby fields, on the other hand, resembled a sleeping ocean, so quiet that there wasn't a ripple. Only the occasional breeze gently stirred the rice stalks, producing a soft rustling sound.

Suddenly, Congcong's gaze was drawn to the twinkling, dim yellow lights in the distance. Those lights, sometimes bright and sometimes dim, were faintly scattered among the distant mountains and nearby fields, like stars fallen from the night sky.

Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be lights shining from nearby villagers' homes. These warm lights added a touch of coziness and life to the quiet night.

At this moment, Zhang Zhong, standing to the side, shouted anxiously, "Hurry up and light the fire! If we're too slow, someone else will snatch the first shot!"

Congcong naturally knew what it meant for them to be the first to fire the torch—it symbolized good fortune and luck in the new year! So when he heard his father's urging, he didn't dare to delay and quickly handed over the torch.

After Zhang Zhong took the lighter, he carefully brought it close to the fuse of the firecracker. A soft "zzzzzz" sound came from the firecracker, like a string of tiny sparks dancing in the darkness.

Just a few seconds later, the previously calm scene was shattered as firecrackers began to explode wildly. The deafening explosions were like rolling thunder, echoing through the sky, and even the ground beneath our feet trembled slightly from the powerful sound waves.

Just then, the firecrackers from my second uncle's house next door joined the lively "battle" without showing any weakness. They were like a group of competitive children, desperately releasing their energy, trying to stand out in this noisy atmosphere.

Immediately afterwards, firecrackers from every household in the village joined in, and for a moment, the crackling sounds rose and fell, weaving together a symphony of excitement, joy, and enthusiasm.

The once quiet and peaceful mountain village was now completely immersed in the joyous sound of firecrackers, filled with a strong festive atmosphere.

The sound was like a grand concert, with every family as a performer, playing together the music of the New Year.

The father and son stepped into the house with joy in their hearts. The family members could not contain their eagerness and all eyes were focused on the father, hoping that he would be the first to raise his glass and speak.

On my father's face, weathered by the years and etched with the marks of time, a radiant smile bloomed, like spring flowers in full bloom.

He steadily picked up the full bowl of fragrant rice wine in front of him and shouted in a loud voice like a resounding bell: "Children, come on, cheers!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the ten pairs of chopsticks on the table seemed to receive a command, and then quickly and accurately picked up the delicious food that they had been longing for.

For a time, laughter and chatter accompanied by the clatter of bowls and chopsticks filled the air, creating a lively atmosphere.

At this moment, everyone's face is filled with happiness and contentment, as they are fully immersed in the warm atmosphere brought about by this rare moment of reunion.

However, Mom was always the last one to pick up her chopsticks. With a smile on her face and eyes full of joy and satisfaction, she savored the harmonious scene before her, and from time to time, she would stop what she was doing and lovingly tell the children, "Children, don't rush, eat slowly. The longer you eat, the more auspicious it will be."

However, for Congcong, who had suffered from hunger in the past, wolfing down food seemed to be a habit, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not learn to eat in an elegant and refined way.

Congcong, who eats the fastest, is often the first to put down his chopsticks.

At this moment, he could only sit at the table, bored out of his mind, blinking his big eyes and gazing quietly out the window, waiting for the dawn to break and hoping that the bright red sun would slowly rise from the distant east.

On the eve of the Lunar New Year, the sky seemed to be shrouded by a huge black curtain, but the scene inside the house was quite different—the house was brightly lit, and the bright lights were like dazzling stars that filled every corner.