“Amid the crackle of firecrackers, the old year takes flight.
The spring breeze brings warmth, and Tusu wine brings delight.
On countless households, the morning sun gleams.
As fresh peach wood charms take the old ones’ place.”
In 1069, Wang Anshi, the renowned poet and statesman of the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127), composed this poem to celebrate the arrival of a new year. Its jovial tone reflected Wang’s own light-hearted spirit as he stood on the threshold of sweeping changes he initiated as vice-chancellor of the state.
The poem endures as a timeless expression of hope, memorized and recited by generations of Chinese during the New Year celebrations, including the coming one. That hope is rooted in a seasonal promise. The traditional Chinese calendar aligns the New Year with the end of winter and the beginning of spring, hence the name “Spring Festival”.
At the core of the calendar, which integrates both moon-based (lunar) and sun-based (solar) cycles of timekeeping, is an effort to harmonize agricultural and social practices with the rhythm of nature. The New Year marks the beginning of the farming season, as hope stirs beneath the thawing earth.
The calendar had evolved over thousands of years, so did Chinese New Year traditions. While the New Year begins at the stroke of midnight, the festive celebrations typically extend for weeks, and in certain areas, over a month, commencing days before New Year’s Eve.
Everything Wang so vividly recounted — the customs his contemporaries embraced at this time of year — continues to thrive today. Here’s the reason: Although China is no longer the agrarian society it once was, the yearning for the return of warmth, the joy of being with loved ones, the bond to the past, and the promise of renewal all endure — each beautifully symbolized by the Chinese New Year.
As Wang rightly noted, the old year would only depart at the ear-splitting sound of firecrackers — tiny thunderclaps that rattle street-level windows, send children cupping their ears in delight and leave a confetti of shredded red paper that once wrapped the fiery explosives. Yet, few know that the firecrackers we recognize today only emerged during Wang’s time, as gunpowder — first invented by the Chinese around the 9th century — advanced significantly due to the frequent warfare between the Song Dynasty (960-1279) and its neighbours.
Before that, the sharp, explosive sound was made by igniting dried bamboo stalks, which is why the Chinese name for firecrackers is bao zhu, meaning “bamboo burst”. Alternatively, the resounding crack could be produced by snapping a whip, giving firecrackers the name bian pao, meaning “whip blast”.
While the firecrackers create a chaotic symphony full of energy, it is not to delight the ears, but to drive away a ferocious beast, according to legend. This beast, named Nian — the same character for “year” — once struck terror in the villages, until a wise old man discovered that despite its apparent invincibility, Nian feared three things — loud noises, bright lights and the colour red.
Thus, firecrackers explode at night, candles flicker until dawn, and lanterns sway from every rooftop. The colour red appears everywhere, from scarlet couplets and paper-cut window decorations to red envelopes filled with money, gifted to the younger generation as a blessing of good fortune.
How did Nian come to be seen as a force of destruction? Cultural historians have long pondered this, suggesting it may be tied to winter’s unforgiving nature. Yet, with the arrival of the new year comes a gentle assurance — a chance to triumph over misfortune, the weight of the past, and the person we once were.
Emotional bond
Along the years, Chinese immigrants who went to live in foreign countries continued to perform these traditions. By honouring that collective memory, they passed it down to their descendants who forged a new identity in their adopted home to carry that heritage forward. Over time, they transformed the festival into a global phenomenon participated by the Chinese diaspora worldwide. An indispensable part of this phenomenon is tuan yuan fan, or “the reunion feast”, shared by all family members on Chinese New Year’s Eve.
In many parts of northern China, this celebration includes eating dumplings — round, palm-sized dough wrappers filled with minced ingredients and shaped like ingots, symbolizing wealth. Occasionally, a coin is hidden inside one of the dumplings, promising extra luck to the fortunate diner who discovers it.
Yet, it is the making of dumplings that truly brings the family together on an emotional level. Scattered across the vast country, many family members may not have seen one another for an entire year. As they gather around the table to knead, roll, and fold the dough, conversations flow, banter sparks, and laughter fills the room. Personal stories — both triumphs and travails — are shared, and fond memories of the past resurface, while dumplings are taking shape in their hands.
For the Chinese, the Spring Festival is the heartbeat of connection, a time to rekindle bonds strained by the rush of life. The first days of the New Year are spent visiting family, friends and associates, each gathering contributing to the vibrant tapestry of relationships that lies at the core of Chinese existence.
In southern China, rice cakes, known as nian gao — which sounds like “year high” in Chinese — are a staple of the Spring Festival, symbolizing progress for the coming year. They are complemented by tang yuan, glutinous rice balls with a sweet flavour that embody the joy of family togetherness.
Then there are Spring Rolls — golden, crispy dough wrappers encasing a delightful mix of vegetable sprouts — and fish, a dish whose name shares the same pronunciation as a Chinese character symbolizing surplus and abundance. Interestingly, on New Year’s Eve, the head and tail of the fish are often left uneaten, symbolizing the wish for a good start and end to the coming year.
The ancient custom dictates that the intense preparations for the New Year begin on the 8th day of the 12th month. This marks the start of the final rush to ready the household for the celebration, including housecleaning, stockpiling food, and making new clothes.
Long before the era of burgeoning prosperity, the Chinese New Year was a celebration of the truly “new”. It was the one time of year when people received new clothing, often lovingly handmade by the women of the family. For children, the thrill of wearing something fresh and unspoiled brought pure joy. In a world where newness was a rarity, the festival magnified its allure — new clothes, new beginnings and a renewed sense of beauty that quietly shone.
On the 23rd day of the 12th month in the Chinese calendar, the Kitchen God — who, according to legend, oversees the household — is sent to heaven to report to the all-powerful Jade Emperor on the family’s behaviour over the past year. To bid him farewell, the family typically offers food including sticky sweets like malt sugar, to ensure his lips remain sealed and no misdeed, if any, is revealed. This send-off is followed by a spirited welcome-back on New Year’s Eve amid sounds of bursting firecrackers.
Also on this eve, Tusu wine, as mentioned in Wang’s poem, is poured in certain parts of China. In keeping with tradition, this fermented herbal drink, believed to have a nourishing and detoxifying effect, is first sipped by the younger members of the family, marking the addition of another year to their lives. The older members drink next, acknowledging a year slipping quietly away. In this ritual, the wine becomes more than a drink — it is a bittersweet reflection on the cyclical nature of time, where growth and loss intertwine.
Cherished memories
With time’s inexorable march, each moment with the family becomes a cherished gem, stored in the memory chest. The memories of the Spring Festival are distinct to each generation, with every generation holding its own unique experiences, often quite different from those of the ones that came before or will come after.
In times of material scarcity, the Spring Festival was a rare opportunity for a true feast, a prospect that children eagerly awaited for weeks, even months. The meal was typically prepared by the family, and the hustle and bustle of the kitchen — the clatter of pots and pans, the aroma of food — enhanced the festive atmosphere. For children, the very thought of a lavish banquet — a table laden with dishes — was enough to send their mouths watering and their imaginations racing, all amid the joyful chaos of a large family gathering.
The Spring Festival was more than just a meal; it was the climactic culmination of a year’s hopes and desires, brought to life in one unforgettable dinner, which would begin around noon and stretch on until midnight.
Illuminating ritual
It has long been a tradition for people — except young children — to stay awake throughout the night beginning from the Chinese New Year’s Eve. This custom, known as shou sui or the New Year’s vigil, reflects a deep desire to safeguard what’s most valued. The glow of lights is also expected to illuminate the path home for loved ones.
It’s interesting to note that according to the Chinese zodiac, the upcoming New Year, beginning on Jan 29, marks the Year of the Snake, often referred to in Chinese culture as the “dragon minor”. This connection stems from the snake’s physical resemblance to the dragon, as well as its revered qualities — grace, mystery and power — which mirror those of the dragon, a symbol of might and virtue in Chinese culture.
In fact, at the core of the traditional Chinese calendar were the persistent advances in the art of astronomy and mathematics, integrated with the cultural, agricultural and political life of a society that believed the rule of heaven was the rule of law, with ultimate legitimacy resting in the reign of the natural order.
In their quest for greater accuracy and better alignment of the lunar and solar cycles, the Chinese, whose earliest evidence of timekeeping appears on oracle bones, also drew from other cultures.
The Gregorian calendar, or solar calendar, was officially adopted in China on Jan 1, 1912.
Yet, the traditional Chinese calendar, the sole system known to nearly all Chinese up to that point, endures for cultural and celebratory purposes, offering a reminder of the nation’s rich legacy. To distinguish the traditional new year from the Gregorian solar new year, the term “Spring Festival” became customary.
The Spring Festival usually concludes on the 15th day of the Chinese New Year, corresponding to Feb 12 in the solar calendar. This final day, marking the first full moon of the new year, is traditionally illuminated by delicately handcrafted lanterns — some bearing riddles — that adorn every corner.
Contact the writer at zhaoxu@chinadaily.com.cn.