As the season transitioned, the private school in Xushui also closed its doors. Mi Niang discussed privately with Bahu whether they should bring Ajima to the Xia Ranch or leave him with X Jil at Lingshan.
After some thought, Bahu reasoned that the Xia Ranch was vast and sparsely populated. Qiqige and Jiya were becoming more stable on their feet and restless. Bringing Ajima to the Xia Ranch would allow him to help take care of the two children during the busy times of the mating season for the cattle and sheep.
“Let’s take him to the Xia Ranch. But we still need to ask him. His elder sisters haven’t married yet. Let’s see how they arrange things,” Bahu suggested.
Ajima slept in the felt tent near the river with Uncle Muren. Every morning when Bahu went to fetch water, Ajima would wake up when he heard the commotion. He didn’t speak much; he would either help with the fire, sweep the courtyard and the dog’s kennel with a broom, or sit with the dogs and comb their fur with a cow horn comb.
One morning, as Bahu went out to fetch water, he noticed someone coming out. He glanced over, shook the water off his hands, and instead of immediately going inside, he asked, “We’ll be going to the Xia Ranch in a few days. Are you coming with us or staying with Xi Jil at Lingshan?” Xi Jil was going to marry Ajima’s elder sister, and although the wedding date hadn’t been set, it wasn’t far off. So, he stayed in Lingshan to oversee things and was responsible for selling the saved wolf skins and sheep wool to passing caravans.
Ajima didn’t want to stay in Lingshan. When he was awake, he couldn’t help but want to go back. But he didn’t dare enter the felt tent where his parents had lived. Just looking at it from afar would make him cry. But he still had to see off his elder sisters, especially his elder sister, whose in-laws were not from Lingshan.
“I’ll wait until my elder sisters are married, then can my elder sister’s husband take me to the Xia Ranch to find you?” he said nervously.
“That won’t work,” Bahu vetoed. There were quite a few skins and furs saved at home, and if there was no one guarding them, what if they were stolen? He glanced at Ajima thoughtfully. “Don’t want to stay in Lingshan?”
“No, I don’t want to cry anymore.”
“Then you’ll go back to the winter pasture with Uncle Mùrén and them, cut grass, work until you’re tired and fall asleep. When you’re busy, you won’t have time to cry,” Bahu suggested from experience. The year he was kicked out of his home, he helped take care of over a hundred livestock with Uncle Mùrén, busy day and night. Whenever he had a moment, he slept; eating came after sleeping. There was no room for overthinking or daydreaming, let alone crying.
Ajima nodded. “Okay, I’ll listen to you.”
…
Another year of transition, Qiqige and Jiya woke up from their nap in the Lele cart, already far away from Lingshan. Mi Niang took out the still warm steamed buns from the pot, peeled off the outer layer, and gave one to each child.
Qiqige took a bite, raised the white bun, and wrinkled her little brow, saying, “Meat, meat.”
“Yes.” Both children followed Bahu’s lead; they loved eating meat and couldn’t resist a meal without it. Mi Niang first tied bibs around Qiqige and Jiya’s necks, then handed them two pieces of beef bones. “Here, eat up. After you finish, Mom will take you out for a camel ride.”
With meat to eat, the children were satisfied. They gnawed on the bones with relish, forgetting about the steamed buns. Mi Niang had to take the buns for herself.
Qiqige and Jiya loved eating meat and were growing fast. They inherited Bahu stature, with long limbs and strong frames. Fed with milk and meat, they were getting steadier on their feet and faster at running with each passing day. They were also bold; when Mi Niang first rode a camel, her legs were stiff with nerves, but the two little ones showed no fear at all. Sitting proudly on the camel’s back, they even boasted to the dogs running on the ground.
With children, meals had to be prepared regularly. Approaching noon, they found a wide spot by the river to stop. Bahu dismounted to take the children, who ran off to play with the dogs. He and Mi Niang went to the Lele cart to fetch the stove and pots.
“I’ll fetch some water. I’ll boil a pot of water first to make some butter tea,” Bahu said.
Mi Niang acknowledged with a sound and took a dipper to milk the cows, preparing it for the children since Qiqige and Jiya couldn’t drink butter tea yet. By the time she returned with the milk, the servant had already started a fire with dried cow dung.
Lunch consisted of leftover stewed beef bones and steamed buns from the morning. Water from the copper kettle was poured into the milk pot, while Mi Niang poured the bone soup into the pot and placed it on the stove to simmer. Slices of steamed buns were cut, and once the bone soup was heated, the copper kettle was removed and replaced with an iron plate. A lump of butter was spread on the iron plate, and when the steamed buns were placed on it, a fragrant aroma filled the air.
The two children immediately ran over when they smelled the aroma, pointing to the meat bones and the toasted steamed buns, indicating they wanted to eat them, but didn’t mention the steaming milk.
“First, drink some milk,” Bahu said, testing the temperature with a bowl. “It’s not too hot, drink up.”
The siblings immediately made faces; the milk wasn’t sweet or salty, and they didn’t want to drink it when there was meat to eat.
“If you drink it, Dad will give you meat to eat,” Bahu said, revealing his trump card. Since children had tender teeth, a piece of meat could last them a long time, but it wouldn’t fill their stomachs; milk was essential for nourishment.
“Two pieces each,” Qiqige bargained after taking the bowl.
Bahu nodded, watching as the two children finished the milk. He scooped some water into the milk bowl, rinsed it out, and then placed two large beef bones in each bowl. “Okay, sit and eat,” he instructed, knowing the large beef bones wouldn’t go down easily.
The two servants sitting on the side couldn’t help but envy the harmonious scene. Bahu had a family, property, wife, children, and daughters—a life that many men envied but couldn’t attain.
After finishing the meal, Mi Niang went to wash the dishes in the river while Bahu fetched water to extinguish the fire. The two children hadn’t finished gnawing on the bones in their bowls.
“Are you full?” Bahu asked. “If you’re full, throw the bones to feed the dogs, and Dad will take you to wash your hands.”
Jiya first tossed the bones to the drooling Bala, then stood up with her bowl and pointed to the person washing dishes by the river. “Mom.”
“Yes, to Mom,” Mi Niang said, leading the two children to the river. The water was shallow and it was hot at noon, so he took off their shoes and socks and threw them into the river before removing his own.
Mi Niang washed the two bowls clean and placed them in a basket. “Play with them a little longer to aid digestion, then bring them into the carriage to sleep,” she instructed. With no children to disturb her, she went to knead a basin of dough and planned to steam two pots of lamb and green onion buns for the evening. In the morning, they could just reheat them for breakfast.
During migration and travel, steamed buns and butter tea were convenient and time-saving companions.
After the children fell asleep, it was time to hit the road again. Shortly after they left, they noticed a black dot in the southeast direction. The dogs among the flock also perked up their ears in alert. As the dot approached, Mi Niang, sitting on the camel’s back, saw that it was a group of people, led by someone holding a flag with the word “Kang” on it.
Bahu stopped the leading sheep and cows, and both humans and dogs watched curiously as the approaching group, or rather, the army, got closer. Some held swords and spears, and the people on horseback wore armor. The wooden boxes on the carts behind them looked luxurious, with red seals wrapped around them, embroidered with a neatly written character
Bahu and Mi Niang exchanged a glance. Bahu dismounted first to help Mi Niang down from the camel and then went to shake awake the two children in the cart. The children, who hadn’t slept well, woke up crying softly with their mouths open.
“Don’t sleep, dear. Come and take a look,” Mi Niang said, holding Qiqige on the edge of the cart and pointing to the long line of people in the distance. “Look, how impressive is that?”
The family of four looked across the vast expanse of sheep and cattle at the people on the other side, who also occasionally glanced over. Their eyes swept over the countless sheep and cattle, and finally, a cavalryman rode over.
“Master, an official is here,” the servant shouted loudly as he approached the cart, not daring to approach the officials who could easily take their lives.
“Dear brother, we’ve come from Dakang to offer congratulations to Kedun for his birthday. We met you first upon entering the Mobei, and the General asked me to come ahead to spread some joy,” the cavalryman said, noticing the tens of fierce-looking dogs around. He didn’t dare to approach and mentioned another purpose: to buy several dozen sheep.
Bahu put Jiya on the edge of the cart and walked over, asking how many they wanted. He selected the largest ones from the flock, originally meant to be slaughtered for their own consumption during the winter.
“No need for payment, we’ll give them to you as a gift to celebrate Kedun’s birthday,” Bahu said, driving eighty sheep over to them. He refused the silver bills offered and turned and ran off without accepting them.
“Hey!” the cavalryman shouted, chasing after them on horseback. “This is from the General, you have to take it.”
Bahu refused, emphasizing repeatedly that it was a birthday gift for Kedun. He turned left and right, circling around on the grassland. When the dogs at home saw this, they thought he was being bullied and rushed over, baring their teeth and barking wildly. The cavalryman had no choice but to turn his horse around. When he looked back again, he saw the man surrounded by dogs, waving to him with a smile.
“What’s going on?” There was a four-horse carriage in the middle of the convoy, and the person inside the carriage spoke, peering outside through the open window. The person outside immediately reported, “The General sent someone to buy eighty sheep from the local herders, thinking of adding some meat for the soldiers tonight, but the herders refused payment, saying it was a gift for Kedun’s birthday.”
“The Empress Dowager is indeed beloved by the people.”
Before the window was closed, both Mi Niang and Bahu saw the profile of the person inside the carriage and held their breath simultaneously. “How noble. Is Kedun also like this?” Mi Niang murmured to herself.
Bahu had indeed seen Kedun before. As he stood on the ground, watching the army head west, he said, “Kedun looks very approachable, unlike the person in the carriage who looks fierce. It’s the Khan who looks very fierce.”
Even after the army had moved far away, he couldn’t help but look back. “If Kedun returns to Dakang in the future, I will definitely bring you and the children to welcome her in Lingshan in advance. We owe our good days to her.”
When it was time to cook dinner, he couldn’t help but mutter, “I’ve heard from the older generation that before Kedun married into the Mobei, there were no iron pots in the entire region. At that time, there were only stews, no stir-fries, nothing at all—no brick houses, no heated beds, no private schools, no brick tea, no bath beans, no soap, and no trading caravans passing through.”
The firelight from the stove reflected on the man’s face, his eyes shining brightly.
“And no me,” Mi Niang added.
“Right, and no you. Then I could only be an old bachelor,” Bahu joked, though he thought to himself that if Kedun hadn’t come, he wouldn’t have lived to meet Mi Niang. He might have frozen or starved to death in the winter of his fourteenth year.
As the sun rose later and the nights grew longer, the children ran faster day by day. As autumn was drawing to a close, Bahu received a letter from the government officials at the Xia Ranch. this year they had to return to the Winter Pasture earlier than usual because the tribute was to be taken back by the army from Dakang, and the troops from the capital city wouldn’t be coming.
Without the escort of the army, the return journey would be slow and cumbersome. They had to leave early to avoid encountering snowstorms.
Mi Niang stood on the hill and looked at the still intact group of cattle and sheep. The weather was still warm, and some of the animals were still in heat. At this time, traveling might cause chaos if the cattle and sheep were gathered together.
