While Bahu and Mi Niang were applying sheep oil and sunbathing, they chased Qiqige and Jiya out, letting Uncle Muiren take them to tend to the cows and sheep. Ajima went to the watering place to study, leaving only the two of them at home.
The sticky and greasy sheep oil on their skin was uncomfortable, but even more uncomfortable were the rough hands of the man, with calluses on the palms and fingertips, especially on the thumb and index finger, hardened from years of handling horse and sheep reins, rougher than thorns on a wooden board, unsoftened even by the sheep oil. Like his stubble, no matter how much it was shaved, it would still feel prickly when rubbed against the skin.
Mi Niang couldn’t help but want to avoid it, feeling the itchiness lighten and the pain deepens, not knowing how to make a request. Every year when they applied sheep oil, aside from the pungent smell, the hands behind her and his eyes made her feel as if she was going through a trial.
Bahu particularly enjoyed this activity. Under the clear sky and bright sun, the sunlight that had been hidden for a whole winter illuminated their delicate bodies, making the white sheep oil even more glaring, and dazzling.
“Do you have no shame?” Mi Niang couldn’t help but lower her eyes, glaring at him.
The man also glanced down, then grabbed another handful of sheep oil from the jar and applied it to her knees and ankles. “In front of you, do I still have any face? Our children are already two years old. If I cared about my face, would we have a son and a daughter?”
“It’s your turn,” he said, panting heavily as he sat on the chair, picking up the black jar and changing its direction, gesturing with his eyes for her to hurry up. “The sun is about to set if you keep dawdling.”
gritted her teeth, grabbed a handful of sheep oil, and rubbed it open. She applied a layer along his neck and shoulders. His muscles were stiff from years of labor, and she wondered if the sheep oil could penetrate through to the bones.
After applying it to his back, she moved to the front. The man watched her with his eyes, afraid of provoking her, and even held his breath carefully, but the breath he exhaled was hotter than the sunlight shining down.
Blushing, Mi Niang only glanced at him with her peripheral vision when she lowered her eyes. Seeing him becoming more and more audacious, she decided to stop, saying, “You can do the rest yourself.”
“But I wanted to apply it to your whole body,” Bahu protested.
“I didn’t ask you to,” she retorted.
“Then I’m asking you.”
“No.”
Turning her back to him, Mi Niang didn’t know that the man behind her was tapping her with his fingers, pondering how to settle the score with her.
After about an hour of sunbathing, the sheep oil on their bodies had faded considerably. Bahu put on some dirty clothes and went outside to fetch water for a bath. As usual, Mi Niang went first, lathering up with the oily soap and feeling the thick sheep oil.
“Aren’t you going to fetch more water?” she asked, puzzled, as she watched him splash water over himself.
“Yeah, let’s scrub first, and then we’ll rinse again when I fetch more water later,” he replied. His movements were swift, and while
“Mi Niang was scrubbing her lower body, he had already finished scrubbing his whole body, standing behind her with a lecherous look.
“Go fetch water and change it,” Mi Niang ordered angrily, gritting her teeth.
The man complied readily, fetching more water and quickly pouring it over himself, rinsing off the soap suds. He ignored Mi Niang’s complaints about the wet floor and dirty shoes.
A pair of rough hands, still dripping with water droplets, rested on her waist. Mi Niang suppressed a gasp and turned to glare at him. “Stop messing around.”
Her cheeks and body were flushed with a rosy hue, even more enticing than when covered with sheep oil. “The kids aren’t home, nobody’s home, we’re alone in the house, why not?” His hands lightly caressed her.
“Not during the day,” Mi Niang pressed his hand as it moved downward, her voice tense. “It’s not right, someone might pass by outside if they hear, I’ll be humiliated.”
Bahu seemed to be pondering, but the darkness in his eyes grew deeper, making Mi Niang’s legs weak, and she couldn’t help but say, “At night, it’s only at night.”
“You said that?”
“I said it.”
“Whatever I say, you’ll listen?” Bahu negotiated, but his grip tightened.
Mi Niang nodded repeatedly, “I’ll listen to you, I’ll listen to you, I’ll listen to everything you say.” She thought to herself that it was nothing more than the techniques from the erotic books, and the two of them had already practiced them.
Bahu chuckled and moved his hands away after squeezing them. “Put on your clothes, the water on your body has dried.”
…
In the evening, Qiqige and Jiya ran in with a group of dogs, standing at the stove door and shouting, “What’s for dinner tonight?” They didn’t notice any strange emotions between their parents.
“Meat,” Bahu put down the shovel and leaned on the stove, “It’s all your favorite.”
“Hehe,” Qiqige grinned, stroking the dog’s head in her hands and sweetly said, “I like the food dad makes.”
“Then go wash your hands, take off the clothes covered in dog hair outside, and throw them in the basket, don’t bring them into the house.” The dogs and minks at home were groomed and shedding every day.
Bahu glanced at the person sitting on the chair, busy lighting the fire, and took the opportunity to tease while the children weren’t around, “It’s not yet night, don’t be nervous.”
Mi Niang ignored him. This shameless man had said after she agreed that he would take her out as wild ducks after everyone in the house was asleep.
“The people from the west side of the river are almost ready to repay their debts.” Bahu changed the subject, “Officials were helping before, so they should be able to afford it.”
“Is it the government that’s repaying you, or are they repaying you directly?” Mi Niang picked up on this, wanting to say something serious, but then heard him correct himself, “It’s us, not just me.”
“Oh,” Mi Niang replied perfunctorily, scooping up a lump of cow dung to fill in, and when she saw the children coming in, she ignored him.
“What did you do with Grandpa this afternoon?” She untangled Qiqige’s messy hair and re-tied it with her hands, using her hands as a comb. “Why are there still grass and leaves on your head, rolling around in the grass?”
“Hehe, Jiya and I rolled down from the hill, we rolled, and the dog chased us from behind.” Qiqige laughed heartily, then quickly corrected herself, “My brother, it was my brother and I who rolled down from the hill.”
“She only calls me ‘Jiya’ in front of you guys. When you’re not around, it’s ‘Jiya’ all the time,” Jiya seized the opportunity to complain.
Qiqige felt guilty and didn’t need reminding to promise first: “I won’t call her that anymore.”
Mi Niang ignored her insincere words and just told Jiya, “Next time she calls you by name, don’t let her have the chicken wings.” Qiqige loved to nibble on chicken wings, but every time they had chicken legs or wings, they shared them equally. Ajma and Jiya always let her have the wings.
“Okay,” Jiya readily agreed.
“You two go out and see if Ajima is back. Once he’s back, we can start dinner,” Bahu suddenly felt the children were noisy and hurried to send them away.
Ajima rode a horse to school that was an old horse raised at home, previously ridden by the old shepherd. As both Ajima and the horse aged, the horse lost its wildness and couldn’t be left in the wild anymore. It was kept with the cattle herd and even helped transport a few felt blankets when moving camps. After Ajima came, the old horse became his responsibility. Every day after school, Ajima would come back and brush its fur, making it look like it had rejuvenated by two years.
At the dinner table, the three children were chatting loudly, and Bahu repeatedly interrupted them, saying, “Eat properly.”
Qiqige was annoyed, pursing her lips and giving him a disgruntled look, muttering two words under her breath: “So annoying.”
“Haha,” Mi Niang couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing the man’s dark expression, she quickly waved her hands and said, “Don’t look at me, you guys continue with your conversation.”
“Forget it,” Bahu kept urging the three children to eat quickly. After dinner, he diligently fetched water to help them wash their faces, feet, and bottoms. “Ajima, it’s time for bed. Don’t use oil lamps to practice calligraphy at night, or you’ll go blind.”
But the oil lamp in Ajima’s room was extinguished. His two children were still wide awake, rolling around with eyes wide open, waiting to share a basket full of words.
Unable to resist, Bahu had to show weakness. He lay down on the bed and said, “I’m tired. You two should sleep soon.”
“Huh, is someone…” Qiqige shifted to the side of the bed, knocking on the railing to urge her mother to come over.
“Your mother is already asleep. Don’t disturb her,” Bahu pushed her back under the covers. “Shh, let’s all be quiet.”
After waiting for a while, if it weren’t for the unresolved matters on his mind, he would have fallen asleep.
“I thought you were pretending to sleep,” once the children’s breathing became steady, Bahu hurried over.
Mi Niang glanced at him, a look of impatience in her eyes. She was busy doing her eyebrows in front of the mirror. “I’m not that kind of scoundrel.”
Right, it’s all his fault. Bahu rolled up a piece of felt and asked, “Should we skip the blanket? It’s not cold tonight.”
“No, if someone finds out…”
“Okay.” At this point, he would agree to anything she said. “Let’s go, you look fine already. No need to draw anymore.”
The two of them tiptoed out, but unfortunately, a dog with no sense of timing stumbled behind them. Meanwhile, Uncle Muren’s snoring thundered from his felt bag, conveniently masking the sound of their footsteps.
Exiting their front door felt like sneaking out like thieves. Once they were a bit further away, Bahu grabbed Mi Niang’s hand and ran wildly, almost causing her hairpin to fall out. Mi Niang also felt a surge of excitement in her heart, and her hands and feet started to sweat with nervousness.
“Da Huang, go back.” Once they reached a place where they wouldn’t disturb anyone, Bahu began to act like he didn’t know the dog, arranging for Da Huang to go back home. “There are still young masters at home, you go back and watch over them.”
“Da Huang, go back,” Mi Niang patted it gently. “Go back and watch over Qiqige and Jiya for me.”
“It only listens when you speak,” Bahu grumbled again.
The two continued walking, heading towards a deserted place, and when they reached the top of a hill, they suddenly stopped in their tracks. In the dim moonlight, they saw a pair of wild mandarin ducks, which had appeared before them.
The night was enchanting.
Their palms were sweaty as they held each other tightly, and the sound of their pounding hearts seemed to drown out the chirping of insects. Bahu turned Mi Niang’s head, feeling relieved that they had chased away Da Huang; otherwise, they would have had to chase after the dog to catch the mandarin ducks tonight.
As they walked further away, the hot breath brushed against Mi Niang’s ear. “You never called me ‘brother.'”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mi Niang squeezed out the words from her throat, afraid that in the darkness, behind the hill, there might still be mandarin ducks lying in the grassy knolls. The night on the grassland was truly fascinating and tantalizing.
With a half-held breath, the person gazing at the moon couldn’t help but shed tears. The color of the eyebrow pencil smeared at the corners of her eyes, resembling blurred ink dots, trickling into her hair, and finally falling onto the roots of the grass.
“Uh?” Bahu persisted, refusing to give up until he heard her call him.
Mi Niang still didn’t speak, feeling extremely irritated, she bit him.
It wasn’t until they were on their way back, with Bahu carrying her piggyback style, that she finally mumbled into his ear, sticky and reluctant.
Bahu stumbled, almost twisting his ankle. “I get it now. You like it that way. No wonder no matter how I coax or pressure you, you refuse to call. You’ve been playing with me, haven’t you?”
He added, “Summer is still long. Since you like it, we’ll come out more often.”
The nights on the grassland were so lively; they should come out more often.
