Ball Pass Game Heats Up the Bonfire Party

"Your Highness, Sister Tian from Ze Bei Village has brought a carriage to deliver supplies that Miss Bei instructed to be given to the soldiers," Tong Chen's polite report finally interrupted the long kiss initiated by Xiang Bei and taken over by Cheng Mo, which had left her nearly breathless.

Xiang Bei quickly ran to open the door, her face flushed and breathing slightly heavy. "Brother Chen, you came just in time. Set up a long table. Each basin with marinated meat should be paired with long bamboo skewers for the soldiers to prepare their own BBQ. The ones carrying the bamboo mats should take twenty-four cooked eggs and distribute two to each soldier to boost their energy for the afternoon. Follow the task schedule for the rest."

"No problem. Everyone is ready. Xiao Bei, preparing all this must have been exhausting. Look at your face—" Tong Chen noticed her rosy cheeks and asked with concern.

"My face is fine—no, I'm fine everywhere. I'm not tired. Sister-in-law Tian is here, I'll go find her," Xiang Bei, both embarrassed and flustered, made a hasty escape. Cheng Mo gave Tong Chen a smile and followed her.

Earlier, Xiang Bei had introduced weaving and knitting classes at the new school to spread the skills of weaving cotton, hemp, and wool. This time, she mobilized women from Dong Bin and Ze Bei to knit items for the soldiers of the North Frontier army as a gesture of love and warmth. Hats, scarves, gloves, and socks were designed and taught through detailed instructions in the North -to-South Folks Talking newspaper. Skilled knitters also taught others hands-on. As a result, Sister-in-law Tian had brought everything, meeting both quality and quantity standards.

"Madam, my daughter Duo'er is still in the town teaching everyone how to knit. She told me to randomly place one item in each bundle, so each bundle has something, but not necessarily one of the four items. They're just placed randomly," Sister Tian no longer harbored any thoughts of sending Duo'er to the prince as a concubine. After spending so much time together and witnessing all the changes, she sincerely regarded Miss Bei as the rightful lady of the Prine Mansion, admiring and respecting her, and feeling grateful for the great fortune Duo'er had to find a path by her side.

Each bundle was wrapped in three feet of blue fine cotton cloth with wax dye, enough material to make an undershirt. Inside each bundle were two pounds each of brown sugar and fine salt, a set of paper and pen, and a knitted item, mostly long scarves, followed by hats, with gloves and socks being less common due to their technical difficulty.

"This is wonderful, Sister Tian, you're a lifesaver. Let's go and deliver these to Uncle Mt. Shan. You should join us for the banquet tonight."

"Sure, tonight will definitely be lively. But I need to go back once more; I still have half the goods left to bring over," Sister Tian replied cheerfully.

"Go ahead. When you return, stop by East Street of Ze Bei village and invite people from Uncle Hai and Uncle Zhong's places to come over. Also, bring Duo'er to assist Madam," Cheng Mo instructed Sister Tian while inspecting the bundles. The tension and anxiety of taking over military command for the first time left him in this moment. He believed that he and his lady would certainly have a loyal army, just like the Cheng Family Guards.

"Yes, Your Highness." After handing over the goods to Tong Chen, Sister Tian returned with her team. By the time she came back, the bonfire area was fully prepared. Most of the soldiers had already taken turns to bathe. Uncle Shan and Ming Cheng distributed the family letters, causing the entire camp to buzz with excitement. The barbecue banquet commenced amidst this lively atmosphere.

Cheng Mo ignited the largest bonfire at the command camp first, passing the torch to General Huo to light up the Huo family's guards' campfire, followed by the Chu General's campfire, and then sequentially through the cavalry camp. When all twenty tall bonfires were blazing, the bamboo-wrapped rice around the seating area began to crackle and pop. Watching this scene, Xiang Bei couldn't help but feel moved. The aroma of roasting meat, the sweetness of fine wine, and the endless night filled her heart.

The two hundred female volunteers who had helped with the cooking and brought supplies were also invited to join the banquet. Even though the more open Yunmeng Dynasty allowed men and women to dine together, sharing a feast in the boisterous military camp made the women feel a bit uneasy.

Xiang Bei ordered people to bring zithers, drums, and a cuju ball to the open area in the center of the seating arrangement from the nearby relay station. She whispered a suggestion into Cheng Mo's ear. Soon, Uncle Shan stepped up, struck the drum thrice, and announced the game in a voice amplified by internal energy.

"Slightly tipsy from the wine, under the midheaven moon, everyone, by the command of the Prince, it is now time for you to revel in song and dance! The game of passing the ball begins now! Everyone at the banquet, regardless of gender, rank, or civilian status, when the drumbeat stops, whoever holds the ball must come forth and perform a show. It can be a song, dance, musical performance, acrobatics, martial arts, or any skill. If someone truly cannot think of anything, they may invite a comrade to perform for them, declare their name, drink three cups of wine as a penalty, and return to their seat." With that, Cheng Shan stood by the drum and began beating it rhythmically.

The rattan ball started from General Huo's hand. After just a few beats, it stopped, and the cavalry team burst into loud applause, pushing Ming Cheng forward with the ball in his hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Ming Cheng Huo, from the cavalry camp. My talents are modest. Having been stationed in the north for many years, I've learned the local's powerful drum skills. Tonight, let me take on the task of beating the drum for this game." Ming Cheng walked toward Uncle Shan, took the drumsticks, and began to play a vigorous beat. When the drum stopped again, the ball was in the hands of a soldier from the archery camp, a man from the grasslands. He sang a long Mongolian tune, transporting the northern soldiers back to the days of enduring snow and frost, galloping on horses, and drawing bows. Soon, more humming and throat singing rose from all around, echoing and reminiscing, lingering on for a long time.