After seeing off Asyl’s family, Bahu led the two children into the house to fetch shovels and clear the snow in the yard. He shoveled in front while Qiqige and Jiya followed behind with brooms, clearing the accumulated snow in the yard with huffs and puffs before continuing to shovel the path leading to the sheep pen.
“Are you thirsty? Come have some butter tea.” Without waiting for the three of them to speak while working, Mi Niang directly addressed them, “Qiqige and Jiya, you’re thirsty, come here and drink.”
“I’m not thirsty,” Qiqige reluctantly replied. Drinking too much means more trips to the toilet, and it’s bothersome to take off her pants, it’s cold on her bottom.
“You are thirsty,” Mi Niang insisted firmly, then softened her tone, “Not drinking water will make it difficult for you to poop.”
Qiqige still wanted to delay, muttering that she would drink the butter tea when it cooled down.
“It’s not too hot, just right to drink.” Bahu had already finished a bowl himself, so he brought out another bowl, “Come here, you two siblings, have a bowl.”
Now Qiqige and Jiya had no reason to resist anymore. With a reluctant expression, they reluctantly shuffled over and sipped the tea slowly, like birds pecking at water, one sip at a time.
Bahu didn’t rush them either. He leaned over the bowl and waited until the bowl was empty before putting it away, praising them satisfied, “You’re really obedient.”
Qiqige and Jiya didn’t like hearing that. Sitting on the doorstep as if trying to threaten someone, Qiqige said, “I’m not going to help you shovel snow.”
“I’m not going either,” Jiya echoed.
Bahu and Mi Niang ignored them both. One took a shovel and went outside to clear the snow, while the other went inside to sew clothes. Qiqige and Jiya had grown taller again, and their clothes from last summer were too short and tight. Mi Niang was thinking about giving birth in May and finishing her postpartum recovery in June. During that time, she wouldn’t be able to sew, so she took advantage of this free time to make two new robes and two sets of shirts and pants.
The yard became quiet, with the dogs sleeping in their kennels. Big Spot and Little Spot had finished eating and gone outside again. Only Qiqige and Jiya were left sitting on the doorstep, looking around. They ran to stand under the eaves and asked Ajima when he would return.
“I don’t know. With so much snow, he’ll probably stay at his elder sister’s house for a while longer,” Mi Niang replied. She saw that the embroidery threads in the sewing basket had been tangled by the two little troublemakers. She pushed open the window and shouted to the two little rascals who were about to run out of the yard, “Don’t run! Come in here and untangle the threads for me, and wind them up again properly.”
Qiqige and Jiya giggled, shrugged their shoulders, and reluctantly moved towards the house, arguing, “It wasn’t us and our brother who made the mess. It was the little chubby girl who likes pulling, and we just played along with her.”
No matter how they explained, the tangled mess of threads was untangled bit by bit by the two of them. It took them two days to completely separate the various colored threads, with one pulling and the other winding onto the paper tube. From then on, whenever they saw the sewing basket, they would hide and dare not touch it.
Later that day, the four members of the Bahu family were roasting the wet wool of the newly born lambs in the sheep pen when they suddenly noticed a few dogs, who were usually sneaking milk from the ewes, perking up their ears and running outside without making a sound, wagging their tails.
“Who could that be?” Mi Niang wondered.
Just as the words fell, Ajima’s voice came from outside. Qiqige and Jiya heard the sound and ran out excitedly. When Mi Niang walked out, she saw the three children huddled together, surrounded by dogs with milk ice residue still on their mouths.
“Why did you come back when it’s still snowing? Who brought you back? Where are they?” Mi Niang asked.
Ajima walked into the sheep pen, holding a child by the hand. “So many lambs have been born? I thought about the chores at home and wanted to come back, but it seems I’m back late. My brother-in-law brought me back. He went to my second sister’s house to deliver a gift, and asked me to send his regards to my sister-in-law for him. He won’t come to disturb you.”
Inside the sheep pen, he took off his hat, brushed off the snow from his boots, and took out a few small trinkets from his pocket, handing them to the eagerly waiting Jiya and Qiqige. Whether it was during the New Year or when he returned after harvesting grass in the autumn, after spending some time apart, he always brought small gifts for the two younger ones. It could be a bird egg with beautiful patterns, a grasshopper woven from grass, a peculiarly shaped stone from the river, or some delicious snacks he had at his elder sister’s or second sister’s house, a wooden carving he bought at a stall, a painting he drew himself, or a newly written story…
“I’ve written two new stories recently…”
Mi Niang left with her hands tucked, leaving the three siblings to chat. She hadn’t gone far when she heard Qiqige loudly complaining, saying that she had separated the embroidery threads for two days.
“Now that Ajima is back, the two of us can finally take a break,” Bahu glanced towards the fireplace. Even though they were his own children, sometimes he found them tiresome. They could be well-behaved and sensible at times, but when they started making trouble, they were really unreasonable.
“Children are like this, after all,” he remarked.
Bahu glanced at her, feeling relaxed at this moment. He couldn’t even tell who was joking about taking off shoes to hit the children.
Mi Niang took the tongs and added a few lumps of cow dung to the fire. Hearing the man asking what dish she wanted for dinner, she hesitated for a moment. “Boiled lamb.”
“Boiled lamb?” Bahu was surprised. “With chili? Or sliced lamb for hotpot?”
“No, just boiled lamb, one lump at a time. I want fresh meat, and we dip it in garlic chive sauce after cooking,” she explained. After thinking it over, she realized she was craving this. “I think the taste of lamb boiled in snow water is the most authentic. Adding pepper covers the freshness of the lamb, and adding spicy butter makes it too greasy.”
Bahu: “…”
She used to be the one who wanted spicy food all the time, but now she was saying that stew with added pepper wasn’t tasty? Bahu carefully observed Mi Niang’s expression. It didn’t seem like she was lying. He hesitated for a moment and tentatively asked, “Do you really want boiled lamb? Just with salt?”
“It has to be freshly slaughtered lamb,” Mi Niang added.
“I told you so. The lamb in our desert is tender and fragrant. Boiled in plain water brings out the best flavor,” Bahu remarked. He felt like he was finally defending the honor of the lamb. Grass-fed sheep, often used as medicinal herbs, were the best. Adding all kinds of spices couldn’t compare to the taste of lamb boiled in plain water. Dip it in garlic chive sauce, and you could eat it for a lifetime without getting tired of it.
“I’ll go slaughter the lamb.” Afraid that Mi Niang might change her mind, he immediately got up and went to drive the sheep out of the ram pen. He didn’t start slaughtering until he was far away.
Dinner consisted of a basin of lamb, with lamb soup simmering with radishes in the pot. They drank salty butter tea, each with a plate of garlic chive sauce. They grabbed the lamb with their hands, tearing into the fatty, tender meat, dripping with oil. Paired with spicy garlic chive sauce, it was both flavorful and refreshing. Two bites of meat followed by a sip of butter tea. In the kitchen, aside from the bubbling of the lamb soup, all you could hear was the sound of chewing and slurping. After finishing, they each had some radish to refresh their palates. All five of them sighed contentedly, leaning back in their chairs, not wanting to move.
“I never realized boiled lamb could be so delicious,” Mi Niang murmured leisurely.
“I’ve been eating boiled lamb and beef since I was young, and I’ve never gotten tired of it. It’s an essential food for us desert people, like rice and noodles in the Central Plains. Missing even one meal makes you feel like something’s missing,” Bahu remarked, finishing his bowl of lamb soup. It was truly delicious.
Mi Niang”hmphed.”
“What’s with the ‘hmph’? Don’t agree? Or did I say something wrong?” Bahut teased.
Mimi “hmphed” again.
Qiqige found it amusing and wrinkled her nose, mimicking her father’s “hmph,” prompting Jiya and Ajima to join in.
Bahu pointed at her with his finger. “Quick learner.” He felt betrayed. Just a few days ago, Mi Niang was pleading with him, using all sorts of tactics to get him to help with the embroidery threads. He secretly helped the children, even waking up in the middle of the night to assist. But as soon as that was done, she acted like she didn’t know him.
“Sly little fox,” the man gritted his teeth.
Qiqige felt guilty, stuck out her tongue, giggled, and sweetly called out to her father.
Bahu stood up to clear the dishes, giving her a cold look. “Even calling me ‘grandpa’ won’t work. Don’t expect me to help you next time.”
“What did you help her with?” Mi Niang asked, puzzled, looking at Qiqige. “What are you and your father hiding from me?”
Now all three of them dared not make a sound. Bahu washed the dishes loudly, attempting to drown out the conversation with the clattering of pots and splashing water. But Qiqige and Jiya sat beside Mi Niang, their heads bowed, rubbing their greasy little hands together, not saying a word as they picked at the bits of lamb stuck to their fingers.
“Wow, not only are you both my children, but you’re also colluding with your father to keep secrets from me?” Mi Niang hmphed again. “Two little sly foxes.”
Qiqige and Jiya fell into contemplation, neither of them opening their mouths to speak, just humming along. How did they manage to offend both sides?
Ajima saw that the two adults were deliberately teasing the children. He carried a basin of water and soap, scooped some hot water, and said, “Jiya and Qiqige, come wash your hands. Didn’t you say you wanted to share the New Year treats you got with me?”
“Coming, coming!” The two children bounced off their chairs and slipped away faster than rabbits.
Once the three children had left, Mi Niang also washed her hands and walked over to the man. She slipped her hand into his coat and lightly twisted it, saying, “Being too kind gets you nowhere.”
Bahu smiled without explaining, “Feeling stuffed?”
“A bit,” Mi Niang replied. She scooped out the lamb cooked in the back pot, chopped it into small pieces, and mixed it into the remaining lamb soup with the radish chunks, feeding it to the dogs and the mountain ferrets.
After tidying up the kitchen, Bahu carried hot water to rinse out the dog trough. As soon as he moved the trough, the dogs, who had been listening attentively inside and outside, rushed towards the eaves. Carrying the meat soup outside, Bahu found about a dozen dogs and two mountain ferrets sitting under the eaves, wagging their tails in anticipation.
“Ajima was right. Big Spot and Little Spot should also settle down. With the pack growing larger, they’re starting to forget they’re mountain ferrets,” Bahu remarked, observing the short-tailed ferrets wagging their tails alongside the dogs.
“That means we’ll have to take them into the mountains and let them find mates on their own,” Mi Niang washed her hands and stood outside the door watching the cats and dogs eat. “But do ferrets go into heat in the spring or fall? In the spring, we’ll be near the mountains, and in the fall, we’ll be at the Xia Ranch. By the time we come back here, it’ll already be winter.”
“It should be in the spring,” Bahu said uncertainly. He was also raising ferrets for the first time. “Well, maybe Big Spot and Little Spot don’t have the desire to breed like Bala.”
Bala, Mi Niang observed the long-haired sturdy dog squeezed in among the puppies, with Da Huang and the Alse wolves eating separately. Only it was concerned about the puppies fighting over food.
This was truly a strange dog.
It was already dark outside, but it was still early, Bahu brought water into the house, and after the family of five had washed up and taken off their outer robes, they sat on the kang. They divided the New Year’s treats brought by Qiqige and Jiya into five piles, played rock-paper-scissors to win melon seeds, peanuts, hazelnuts, and red dates to pass the time and aid digestion.
Bahu paid attention to the movements in the courtyard, estimating that all the dogs had gone to the sheep pen. He got off the kang and put on his shoes. “Wait for me for a moment. I’ll go lock the gate.”
As soon as he left, the four pairs of restless hands reached for his gambling stakes. “Don’t take too much, just take a little, melon seeds and pine nuts, don’t take walnuts and red dates, your father can tell,” Mi Niang whispered.
The door creaked shut, and the four culprits inside hurriedly sat up straight, guiltily reopening the game, loudly cheering as they made their choices.
Bahu heard the commotion and quickly ran back inside. “Didn’t I say wait for me? How did you start playing without me? That’s just rude. Don’t blame me for being tough on you.”
The sound of sinister laughter floated out the door along with the sound of shoes being thrown on the ground, continuing until late into the night when the snow began to fall again. The laughter stopped, and with the opening and closing of the door, fresh footprints were imprinted on the snowy ground.
