The thatched cottage inside and out was decorated with extraordinary festivity; the windows and doors were all adorned with red paper cutouts of the "Shuangxi" character.
In the inner chamber, the quilt was red, the pillows red, the festive candles red, and atop the chests and fruit platters lay large red "Shuangxi" characters; a glance within revealed an entire chamber bathed in red, exuberantly joyful.
Underneath the wisps of kitchen smoke, An Jing, ignoring her foot injury, personally cooked a sumptuous feast.
The aroma of wine and meat wafted from the table, spreading outside, causing passing villagers to involuntarily swallow their saliva.
How fragrant.
How could it be so fragrant.
It was rare for the villagers to eat meat more than a few times a year, and coupled with An Jing's excellent culinary skills, the aroma was simply irresistible, tempting those who passed by the house to very much want to come in and mooch a meal.
