Discover How FACAI-Chinese New Year Brings Prosperity and Good Fortune

I still remember the first time I heard about FACAI-Chinese New Year traditions while wandering through Lumière's central marketplace. The vibrant red lanterns hanging between crumbling buildings created such a striking contrast against our city's grim reality. There's almost no one alive here who hasn't been touched by death in some way, yet during these celebrations, you'd never guess our orphanages are overflowing with nearly 2,000 children whose parents joined expeditions that never returned. I've always found it fascinating how our community clings to these ancient traditions even as couples debate whether to bring new children into our dying world.

What strikes me most about FACAI traditions is how they've evolved to address our specific circumstances. The traditional Chinese practice of eating fa cai seaweed for prosperity has transformed here into something deeper - we've created communal meals where everyone brings whatever ingredients they've managed to preserve or grow. Last year, I attended one where a musician who'd decided to live out his remaining days creating art instead of fighting served a dish made from rare mushrooms he'd cultivated in his basement. "This represents the prosperity we create for each other," he told me, and I found that perspective genuinely moving. In a city where 78% of residents have directly lost family members to the Paintress, these small acts of sharing feel revolutionary.

The decorations throughout the city during this period tell their own story. While traditional Chinese New Year features red for luck and gold for wealth, here in Lumière we've added silver threads to represent the technologies being developed for the expeditions. I've noticed that households with members who've joined the missions tend to display more elaborate arrangements - almost as if they're trying to channel all possible fortune toward their loved ones. Walking through the markets, you'll see stalls where artisans create beautiful paper cuttings depicting both traditional symbols and images of the weapons being developed. It's this blending of ancient customs with our desperate reality that makes our version of FACAI celebrations so uniquely powerful.

Personally, I've come to believe these traditions serve a psychological purpose far beyond their original intent. When I participate in the exchange of hongbao - the red envelopes traditionally containing money - I notice people now include handwritten notes of encouragement or small tokens representing protection. Last FACAI season, I received one from a neighbor containing a carefully folded map of the Continent with a handwritten note: "May this guide you to prosperity however you choose to seek it." In a place where the expedition success rate stands at 0%, with all 347 recorded attempts having ended in disappearance or death, these small gestures represent our collective determination to find meaning beyond mere survival.

What many outsiders wouldn't understand is how our FACAI celebrations have become intertwined with the expedition preparations. The timing coincides with when many teams depart, and I've observed that the community uses these traditions to bolster the spirits of those choosing to spend their final year attempting to reach the Paintress. There's a particular ceremony where we write wishes on red paper and burn them, sending the ashes skyward. While traditionally these were wishes for wealth and health, now they're often pleas for the success of the expeditions or the safety of participants. I've written dozens myself - for friends who made what they knew was likely a one-way journey.

The food traditions particularly move me. In a city where resources grow scarcer each year, the effort people make to prepare elaborate FACAI meals demonstrates incredible resilience. I've tasted versions made with substitute ingredients that would make traditional chefs weep, yet the care and meaning behind them makes them more delicious than any authentic dish I could imagine. We've developed our own culinary vocabulary here - a soup might be called "Everlasting Prosperity" while containing ingredients gathered from three different ration distributions, but when shared among people who understand its true cost, it becomes a feast worthy of kings.

As someone who's documented Lumière's cultural adaptations for years, I'm convinced our version of FACAI-Chinese New Year represents the most profound expression of human resilience I've witnessed. While the original traditions focused on attracting good fortune, ours have become about creating meaning in its absence. The prosperity we celebrate isn't measured in wealth or even survival - it's found in the connections we maintain despite everything, in the art created by those who've made peace with our situation, and in the courage of those who continue to fight. When I watch children who've lost both parents participate in the dragon dances using makeshift costumes, I see not desperation but defiance. Our FACAI celebrations have become our way of declaring that even in a world standing at the brink, we choose to find and create pockets of beauty, community, and hope.