Even before he got near the brigade courtyard after entering the village, Xu Qiguang heard a burst of laughter. A few steps further, he could see many people on the path carrying red paper, all heading toward the courtyard.
Red paper?
'That makes sense.'
The elders who had passed away in the village this year weren't from the Bai or Xu families. Consequently, in Baizigou, a village primarily composed of the Bai and Xu clans, there were naturally more households putting up red spring couplets.
Without a second thought, Xu Qiguang knew his Changqing had to be at the center of the crowd, acting as the main calligrapher writing spring couplets for everyone.
Ever since the year he couldn't get leave to come home for the New Year, his daughter had taken over for him. 'The years have flown by so fast,' he thought. 'It's time to wield the brush and splash the ink on New Year's Eve once again.'
