Page 47 of Inventing Vivian

The Chinese man stood before the hearth. “A very long time ago, there lived a fearsome monster with horns and sharp teeth.” He spoke slowly, in a commanding voice. “His name was Nian. The beast came from his hiding place to hunt people and their animals.”

Mr. Li used his fingers to make horns on his head and arranged his face into a frightening mask.

“When the villagers knew Nian was coming, they would run away to hide in the mountains. The monster would eat the animals and destroy the agricultural crops”—he glanced to Lord Benedict to make certain he used the words right—“and houses.”

“One year, a strange old man with silver hair and bright eyes came to the village. He wore rags and appeared to be a...” He looked at Benedict for assistance with the word.

“A vagabond,” Benedict said.

“The village took in the vagabond.” Mr. Li tried out the word. “And they gave him food and a place to sleep. But soon, they knew Nian would come.”

Chester leaned against his mother. Whether he was sleepy or afraid, Vivian couldn’t tell.

“Even though they warned him, the old man refused to run away and hide,” Mr. Li continued. “They had no choice but to leave him in the village.”

The room was silent as the company listened to the story. Chester’s eyes were wide, and the others watched attentively. The man was an excellent storyteller.

“At midnight, Nian came to the village.” Mr. Li used his finger horns again and pretended to walk. “He saw light in one house, but when he came, he found red papers covering the windows and burning candles. He trembled, afraid of the strange things. From behind, a loud noise frightened him.” Mr. Li made a bursting gesture with his hands. “All around were firecrackers. The noise and the lights and the color red scared him away. He ran away and never returned to the village.”

“We saw firecrackers at the Queen’s birthday celebration, didn’t we, Vivian?” Chester said.

“Yes, we did,” Vivian said.

“When the villagers returned,” Mr. Li continued, “they were surprised to find the village safe. Their houses were not broken, their agricultural crops were not burned, and their animals were not eaten. The old man told them the secret of how to frighten away Nian.

“So now, each year in China, we celebrate the New Year in red clothing. We burn candles and cover the windows with red paper—”

“And you light firecrackers?” Chester asked.

“Yes.” Zhang Wei grinned. “That is the best part.”

Chester yawned. “Thank you for the story, Shifù.”

Mrs. Pearson took his hand, and the boy stood, rubbing his eyes. “Mother, will we have firecrackers at our New Year’s celebration?”

“Perhaps, dear. Now, bid your guests good evening. I will be up to kiss you good night in a few moments.”

“Good night, Lord Benedict. Good night, Mr. Li.”

“A marvelous tale. I thank you, sir.” Vivian’s father moved forward in his chair as if he’d rise. “I hope you don’t mind, but I am quite tired myself.”

“Of course not, sir,” Lord Benedict said, standing. “We should retire for the night as well.”

Vivian moved to help her father.

“Allow me,” Lord Benedict said. He turned the crank on the back of Mr. Kirby’s chair, helping him stand. “Mr. Li and I enjoyed ourselves very much. Thank you for your excellent hospitality.”

Vivian’s father leaned on his canes, wincing as he put weight on his feet. “Please don’t rush off on my account.”

“The time passed quickly in such pleasant company,” Lord Benedict said. “I did not realize how late the hour had become.”

A footman came to walk with Mr. Kirby to his bedchamber.

“Thank you for a very pleasant evening, Mrs. Larsen,” Mr. Li said. He bowed with a fist pressed to his palm.

“We enjoyed ourselves very much,” Lord Benedict added.

“Aunt Winifred, I will see the men out. You should go say good night to Chester before he falls asleep.”

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