After Mi Niang fell asleep, Bahu hung a small bow and a piece of red silk, both prepared in advance, on the outside of the felt bag. Before the birth, they didn’t know the gender, so he prepared both items: a bow for a boy and red cloth for a girl. When people passed by and saw such things hanging outside the door, they knew the household had good news. When approaching, they would consciously lower their footsteps and speak softly to avoid startling the sleeping baby.
When Mu Xiang and the others returned with the sheep in the evening, they saw the conspicuous red cloth. As they approached, they saw a small bow made of wood. A boy and a girl, it was truly good fortune.
“Should we go in now or come back tomorrow?” Lan Niang asked. She looked through the gap in the felt bag, couldn’t see anyone, and didn’t hear any sound except for the faint white smoke rising from the empty felt bag.
Mu Xiang hesitated too. When she was at home, she never worried about social interactions and wasn’t sure about the proper etiquette for such joyful occasions.
“Let’s come back tomorrow morning. The elder will announce the good news when knocking on the door at dusk,” Pandi said. Although she was young, she had helped her mother with the washing and the full moon celebrations for her younger brothers. She knew a bit about these matters.
“Then let’s come over after breakfast tomorrow.” Wan’er looked at the big black dog from Mi Niang’s house that had come out and instinctively took a step back. “Alright, let’s go. We need to go back. I also need to inform my grandmother; she probably doesn’t know that Mi Niang has given birth.”
As they left, the cries of the child echoed from the felt bag, followed by a man walking quickly out of the kitchen. The central felt bag lit up with candlelight.
Mi Niang felt like she hadn’t slept for long. The cries of the child woke her up, and she opened her eyes, still a bit drowsy. The felt bag was dim, and it wasn’t until the oil lamp was lit that she realized she had already given birth.
“Are you hungry? Or did you pee and poop?” Bahu didn’t know how many lambs he had raised by hand. Just-born babies were no different from little lambs—crying for one of these three reasons: hunger, wet diapers, or a dirty diaper.
Mi Niang leaned to the side and watched as Bahu awkwardly and clumsily changed diapers for the two babies. His unfamiliar and clumsy movements made contact with the squirming legs of the children seem like touching a sharp blade, causing his hands to freeze.
“It’s alright, you won’t hurt them. I saw the midwife directly lift their legs to put on clothes,” Mi Niang calmly directed.
Bahu glanced at her. “When I assist in birthing cows and sheep, I grab their legs and pull them out. Can it be the same?”
Fine, it’s different then. Mi Niang changed her posture without saying a word, watching like a spectator as the man stiffly lifted the baby’s buttocks, removed the diaper, and replaced it with a clean one. “Two babies mean washing a basin full of diapers every day.”
“Yes, I’ll wash them.” Bahu finally managed to change both babies and then lifted Mi Niang, sitting her against the bedhead. “Is there any breast milk?”
“There should be. My clothes in front are wet,” Mi Niang said as she picked up the loudly crying little girl to feed her first. As soon as her cries stopped, the other cry seemed particularly weak. Not due to temperament, but because the brother was eight taels lighter than his sister.
Bahu held his son stiffly, gently patting and soothing him. He was too small; even the smallest lamb was bigger than him. “Can the child drink goat milk? I’ll bring a mother sheep to raise in front of the door.”
Mi Niang had heard that some women didn’t have breast milk, and their children were raised with rice soup and goat milk. Feeding goat milk should be feasible.
“They have small appetites now. My breast milk should be enough for both of them. If it’s not enough when they are bigger, then we can consider goat milk.” Their appetites were indeed small; in just this short moment, the little girl had eaten enough and stopped sucking. Mi Niang placed her on the bed and took the still whimpering son into her arms.
“Have you decided on their names?” They had thought of several names before the babies were born, but they hadn’t settled on any yet.
“Should the girl be called Qiqige? It means beautiful flowers. Or should we call her Baoyin? It means good fortune. As for the boy, let’s call him Jiya, meaning fate or destiny. What do you think?” Bahu preferred the name Baoyin, but he thought Mi Niang might like Qiqige more. As expected, she chose the name Qiqige.
“I raise bees and make honey. Bees collect nectar from flowers to make honey. With ‘mi’ (honey) in my name, I want ‘hua’ (flower) in the girl’s name. When Qiqige grows up, I’ll teach her beekeeping and pass on my ancestral beekeeping business to her.” Mi Niang touched the dense hair of the little girl and asked Bahu about his last name. “We’ve been married for a year, and I still don’t know your last name.”
Last name? Bahu pondered for a moment in his mouth. Mi Niang almost forgot about it since the people from the Mo Bei region didn’t have family names; they only had tribal or clan names. “My ancestors belonged to the Zahaqite tribe, which is the Zahaqite clan. It’s nearly extinct, and we rarely use this surname.”
“That sounds quite awkward.” Mi Niang seemed thoughtful but didn’t pursue further after asking about the surname.
After feeding the children, it was time for Mi Niang to eat. Pan-fried flatfish with oil, boiled with water, and then added a piece of tofu to stew. After finishing a bowl of fish-stewed tofu, Mi Niang didn’t even touch the chicken soup noodles. She asked Bahu to wrap them up.
The original wooden bed had enough space for two people, but after lying down with the two children, there was no place for Bahu’s feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m afraid of squeezing the two siblings,” Bahu said as he laid a felt blanket and a mattress by the bedside. This way, it would be convenient to get up at night to wash the baby’s bottom and change diapers.
Mi Niang didn’t insist. She found the bed too small for herself and the two babies. She was a deep sleeper, but she feared accidentally pressing down on the children. If the ground weren’t damp, she would consider swapping with Bahu, letting him sleep on the bed with the babies while she slept on the floor.
Because of the heightened awareness, whenever the children stirred at night, both of them would wake up. Mi Niang was responsible for breastfeeding while changing diapers, washing bottoms, and soothing the babies to sleep were all tasks handled by Bahu. Initially, he was hesitant even to touch the newborns, but by the second half of the night, he had become adept at holding and comforting them, even with his eyes closed.
“Bahu, I want to discuss something with you.” The night was too quiet, and Mi Niang had lowered her voice. As she spoke, she felt like a thunderstorm had exploded inside the felt bag. In reality, it was her heart pounding. Bahu couldn’t even catch what she said.
“Can Qiqige and Jiya take my surname? You said you don’t care whether they have a surname or not. How about having them with my surname Ji? We don’t have to mention it often, but I want our children to know that they have a family name, following their mother’s.” Mi Niang spoke softly, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. She had lost all her family, and now she had a chance to give her children a connection to her past. She wanted them to carry on the Ji family name, ensuring that after a century, someone would still remember this history.
“Sure.”
“What?” Mi Niang suspected that she had misheard.
“Sure, I don’t mind,” Bahu repeated. In his view, a surname was similar to a given name; as long as it worked, they could call them anything. He was a descendant of the Zahaqite tribe, but he hadn’t inherited any property from the Zahaqite family. As long as the child was his, whether it was called a cat today or a dog tomorrow, it didn’t affect his attitude toward the child.
Families on the prairie lived far apart, and the descendants of the Zahaqite tribe were scattered across the grasslands. Many never met or knew each other. Just sharing the same family name didn’t mean much.
Mi Ninag hadn’t expected it to be so easy. She hadn’t fully processed it at the time. When the oil lamp was extinguished, and she lay down, the excitement finally surged up. She propped up her body and looked over the two children to the man sleeping on the ground. He was already in a deep sleep, showing that he truly didn’t care about the children’s surname. It might not even be as important to him as deciding what he wanted to eat for breakfast the next morning.
Listening to Bahu’s steady breathing, Mi Niang’s tumultuous emotions also calmed down. She lay back in bed, and in no time, she was asleep too.
Waking up four times in one night, when it was just getting light, Bahu heard Uncle Muren opening the door but lazily kept his eyes closed. After lingering for a while, he finally lifted the blanket and got up from the ground. He checked the diapers of Qiqige and Jiya, and they were wet again.
“Master of the house, are you awake?” Uncle Muren turned immediately upon hearing the door open. Early in the morning, he smiled like an old chrysanthemum. Seeing Bahu holding a basin of diapers, he looked at it as if it were a rare treasure. “Really good at peeing, so much diaper wetting for a newborn?”
Bahu also thought they were good at peeing. When Mi Niang said they would need to wash a basin of diapers in a day, he thought two basins were barely enough.
Uncle Muren saw Bahu pouring water into the basin to soak the diapers. He approached him, rubbing his hands together. When Bahu glanced at him impatiently, he cleared his throat and said, “Master of the house, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Ask, but keep your voice down.” Bahu opened the stove door, poked the fire, and added two lumps of dry cow dung. He was preparing hot water for washing the baby’s bottom; since they were up, he decided to make some butter tea to wake them up.
“Master of the house, I’m only five or six years older than you. Calling me Uncle isn’t appropriate. How about you change the way you address me and Mi Niang? When the two children can talk, I can have them call me grandfather too.” He had been thinking about it for a long time, contemplating the idea ever since Bahu married Mi Niang.
With many wrinkles on Uncle Muren’s face, he looked old. Even Uncle Chaolu called him grandfather. “Sure, from now on, I’ll call you Uncle Muren.” For Bahu, Uncle Muren, no, Grandfather, treated him even better than his father.
“I’ll go wash the diapers, you cook for Mi Niang.” Uncle Muren took the wooden basin and rushed out, looking as if he had just grabbed a basin of gold.
While cooking, when the children cried again, Bahu threw the ladle and ran to the nearby felt bag. When he entered, he saw Mi Niang was already sitting up, feeding the baby.
“You go ahead with your work; I’ll just feed them and put them on the bed.” Memories of her younger brother’s infancy were hazy for Mi Niang, but she remembered her cousin’s birth. There were two troublemakers, and comparing them, Qiqige and Jiya were relatively obedient. As long as they were fed and taken care of, they would sleep once placed on the bed.
However, when feeding one while waiting for the other, they would keep whining, especially Qiqige. She had a loud voice, and if she fed Jiya first, Qiqige would start howling at the top of her lungs, turning her face red. She was not one to be taken advantage of.
“Don’t worry; we can eat a bit later.” Bahu couldn’t stand the sound of the children crying. He gently patted the wailing daughter in his arms, then turned around and noticed a dog’s head squeezing through the loosely closed door. He smiled and called out, “Da Huang, come see the little master. Come in, have a look; she just has a loud voice, not aggressive.”
Da Huang stood at the doorway, staring without moving. In the end, Bahu walked over; everyone in the family had to be coaxed.
“Hey, this is Qiqige, a little girl.” Bahu enthusiastically introduced them to each other. “Da Huang is a great helper for herding sheep. The sheep listen to it. When you learn to walk, let Da Huang take you for a ride on the sheep.”
“Bahu, bring Qiqige over; it’s time to feed her.” Taking Jiya from him, she handed Qiqige to him. “Take this one over to show Da Huang too.”
When Uncle Muren returned from washing the diapers, he took a glance, illuminated by Da Huang. In his heart, Qiqige was petite and skinny, like a little monkey, making it hard for him to look away. He hadn’t seen many children before, and he hesitated to take them in his arms, only giving their little hands a gentle touch.
“Looks like you; in the future, he’ll be a strong young man too.”
Bahu was taken aback for a moment. Where did they resemble him? He had been looking at them for a day and a night, yet he couldn’t discern which one they took after. Yesterday, when they said they resembled Mi Niang, he thought it didn’t make sense, so it must be that they resembled her.
“Their eyes and noses look like you, deep eye sockets, long eyes, and a straight nose. They were born together in the same delivery; do they look alike?”
“Like.” Both wrinkled up like little old men, red and black, almost identical.
However, when they saw the two children, people like Mu Xiang said they didn’t resemble each other. “Jiya looks like Bahu, and Qiqige looks like Mi Niang. Both are good-looking, and their names sound nice.”
Wan’er thought Jiya’s name sounded the best, with both words being positive and carrying meaningful implications. After all, Bahu and Mi Niang being together was no less than fate, a marital bond across a thousand miles.
“Mi Niang my grandmother couldn’t make it, so she asked me to bring these two pairs of little shoes to you.” Wan’er took out two pairs of tiger-head shoes from her back basket. Her grandmother was the best at needlework, and the tiger-head shoes looked lively and vivid, with excellent fabric. They looked much better than the two pairs she had sewn.
“I’ve sewn two sets of little clothes for Jiya and Qiqige.” Mu Xiang learned from the old lady who had fled together with them. She unfolded the clothes and compared them to Qiqige; they were just one finger longer. It would be a perfect fit when they turned one month old. “I’ve already washed them.”
Lan Niang gave two hats, with one adorned with embroidery and the other with woven grass. She worked on them overnight after learning the gender. Pandi presented a stack of drool cloths, saying that babies often spit up after drinking milk, so it’s good to have them around to avoid soiling their clothes. Bai Mei gifted two pairs of foot socks. Ying Niang gave a pile, including seven or eight grass-woven grasshoppers, two small clay figurines, six eggs of unknown birds, and a plain forehead cloth.
“I remember my mother wearing this when she was in confinement after giving birth to my younger brother. Sister Mi, you should put it on too. It helps prevent headaches when there’s wind,” Ying Niang handed it directly to Mi Niang to put on.
Mi Niang obediently followed the advice and wore it. The head was warm, and her heart was also filled with warmth. “Thank you all for thinking of me. You want to move me to tears without a hint of wind, right?”
The others didn’t take it seriously, but Ying Niang did. She kept reminding Mi Niang not to cry during the confinement, as it was not good for the eyes.
“Where did you hear that?” Mu Xiang draped her arm over Ying Niang’s shoulder, impressed that she knew more about postpartum care than herself, who came specifically to attend to Mi Niang.
“I asked Auntie. There’s a little girl in her house, and I inquired while playing with her.”
“What a good girl.” Mu Xiang rubbed her head, then turned to Mi Niang and explained how she would be assisting during her postpartum period.
“As long as you have Bahu to take care of me, you don’t need to worry about me. Go take care of your sheep.” There were fifty of them, and it would require a lot of effort.
“I’ve driven the sheep near your flock. I’ve asked Bahu to instruct your servants to keep an eye on them,” Mu Xiang had already figured out how to arrange things. “Besides tending to the sheep, I don’t have any other pressing matters. I’ll come to help Bahu. When he’s busy, I’ll stay and watch over you three ladies.”
