The next day was New Year's Day.
The snow finally stopped, and the sun shone brightly. As this was a hometown of martial arts, the various martial arts schools naturally had to put on some lively displays.
Firecrackers could be heard early in the morning, their crackling rising one after another. Gongs and drums clattered too: Wu Jiu had led his disciples in putting together a dragon and lion dance troupe, making things wonderfully festive.
Lian Youming got up early and took Xie Ruomei out to wander around and join the fun.
Only then did he discover that some of the dragon and lion dance troupes actually belonged to southern martial arts schools. Curious, he asked and learned that they were a branch that had brought southern boxing north during the mingling of the northern and southern martial worlds after the "Five Tigers Went South." They taught authentic Hung Fist, belonging to the lineage of Iron Bridge Three, one of the late Qing dynasty's Guangdong Ten Tigers. This old Hung Fist master was over sixty, yet his face glowed with health and he was particularly energetic. Still playful at heart, he wore a lion head and teased a crowd of children into shrieking. His disciples competed in lion dancing against other schools' troupes in the street. The lions were fighting, but the real contest was in their basic skills, a way of stirring up their competitive spirit.
The streets were lively too, especially around the busy shopping districts, where seas of people packed the place solid.
Faced with such a big occasion, Xie Ruomei's first reaction was actually to run home and grab her button box, intending to go out and sell buttons. Lian Youming stopped her. "Don't spoil the fun. I'm taking you out for a look around."
Seeing