After a long-brewing, a heavy snowstorm finally descended. The sky outside also gradually brightened, and the rumbling sounds from their stomachs urged the family of five to get up from the warm kang. Bahu, wearing his clothes, went to cook first, while Mi Niang finished getting herself ready before helping the three children to dress up, arranging them in line to comb and style their hair.
Qiqige was fond of beauty, even among family members she insisted on braiding small braids and wearing pearl hairpins. Holding a bronze mirror, she looked left and right, “I’m really beautiful, aren’t I?”
Mi Niang couldn’t help but chuckle and asked, “What do you think your dad looks like?” The father-daughter duo shared some resemblance.
“He’s a bit dark.”
“What else?”
The little girl pouted and hmphed, “Well, he must be good-looking everywhere else, with such a handsome daughter like me. Where could he possibly be ugly?” She couldn’t help but feel proud of herself, “I always speak the truth.” Praising herself and cherishing her dad.
Jiya couldn’t stand her boasting, so he smacked his lips a couple of times, wanting to say something but afraid of getting hit, so he silently took Habul outside.
“The snow is so big!”
Snowflakes fell in large, light, and dense flakes. Jiya reached out his hand and caught handfuls of snowflakes as they fell.
Bahu, carrying a chamber pot, came in from outside and saw the two boys standing in the yard with their hands outstretched, catching snow. Their faces and heads were covered in white, turning them into snowmen. He coughed, and pointed at the son running towards the eaves, “You’re being mischievous again, you’re going to get a beating.”
Jiya chuckled and didn’t respond, brushing off the snow from Habul’s head and then his own. After watching for a while under the eaves, feeling cold, he pulled the youngest son to the stove to warm up.
“Dad, what are we having for breakfast?”
“We’ll have whatever we make.” He scooped water and placed it on the table, then threw a cotton cloth into it, “Come here and wash your face.”
“I smell meat.” Mi Niang led Qiqige inside, pushing her to wash her face, and then lifted the lid of the pot to take a look. Inside was stewed dried beef, and the soup had already changed color.
“No mantou or pancakes, so I made some meat soup. Drink some, more or less, and we’ll make something tasty for lunch.” Bahu scooped up some fat in his palm and rubbed it until it melted, first rubbing it evenly on the chubby cheeks of the youngest son, then scooping up some more and beckoning the two older ones over.
“I’ll do it myself.” Jiya didn’t want him to mess with it; his father’s grip was strong, and he might get some in his eyes, which would be uncomfortable. But when he saw his father glare at him, he reluctantly walked over with a pouty face, tilting his head back and closing his eyes tightly.
Mi Niang could tell from his expression that he had done something wrong and was caught by Bahu. She didn’t ask, just happily watched the scene unfold.
“Has Ajima already gotten up?” She vaguely remembered the front gate opening and closing twice this morning.
“Yeah, he’s already busy in the sheep pen. Breakfast is in the back.” The young man had grown taller and stronger over the past few years, taller even than Mi Niang. Now, not only did he check on the condition of the cattle and sheep with his notebook, but he also cleaned the sheep pen before breakfast to keep himself active.
“After we finish eating, we’ll go over there.” Mi Niang poured water and washed her face again.
Passing by the dog house, Bahu peeked inside and saw it was empty. The dogs and the mountain ferrets were nowhere to be seen, and the food bowl still had frozen rice in it, with all the meat picked clean. When he entered the newly built sheep pen, he saw them all there, with milk stains smeared around their mouths and some even on their noses and heads.
Every year when the ewes start producing milk, the dogs and mountain ferrets crowd around the lambs, waiting for them to finish drinking so they can have their turn. With just this mouthful of milk, they guard the cattle and sheep more diligently than humans.
“Shameless creatures,” Mi Niang muttered each time she saw them.
“Just let them be,” Bahu said, accustomed to it. He took a knife and sat by the haystack, chopping up the grass. The ground corn ground was mixed with water. If the mother sheep ate something too watery after giving birth, they would get diarrhea, so he chopped up the grass and mixed it with the ground corn paste. It was a bit troublesome, but if the mother sheep ate well, the milk would be good, and if the lambs were fattened, they wouldn’t lose weight either.
Qiqige and Jiya took small brooms to clean the troughs, while Mi Niang took Habul to start the fire. This sheep pen was full of ewes and lambs, and the newborn lambs were most afraid of the cold, so a fire pit was dug in the middle of the sheep pen, filled with semi-dried cow dung to slowly heat it up.
Habul couldn’t sit still. After warming up by the fire for a while, he went to help his siblings, but he got scolded and came back with tears in his eyes. Once the tears dried up from the heat, he forgot about it and soon affectionately called his siblings again.
Mi Niang looked at the three siblings bustling around and felt fortunate. “It’s a good thing that the youngest is so simple-minded, he doesn’t hold grudges or remember things.”
“Qiqige and Jiya are soft-hearted too. They scold him and then regret it, and later they apologize,” Bahu said, now feeling good about his children no matter how he looked at them. “Habul is easy to coax. A pat on the head and a hug, and he’s not angry anymore.”
Looking at the youngest of the three siblings, who was circling around his older siblings, Mi Niang felt content. “Just these three, no more children in the future.” Three were just right, with just the right temperaments. If they had another child, what if they were stubborn or had a bad temper? Sibling rivalry could erupt between them.
Bahu had been waiting for this statement. Upon hearing it, he immediately nodded, “Having our three children is already a result of accumulating good karma from past lives. It’s not good to be too greedy.”
…
By the end of February, when the sun was high, the snow on the ground melted and then froze again, forming ice. This cycle repeated, gradually reducing the thickness of the snow.
The nine mountain ferrets came out of their dens and wandered around all day on the icy ground, occasionally showing a glimpse of themselves. When the family saw them, they tempted them back with meat, but they would just eat and leave.
“Hey, where do you sleep?” Bahu grabbed the nape of Big Spots’ neck and squatted down to talk to it. “Haven’t you gone back to the mountains? Or are you planning to go back after the snow melts?”
Big Spot naturally couldn’t respond to him. After eating all the meat in the trough, licking its mouth, and shaking off the hand on its neck, it led the way out.
Bahu followed outside, standing with his arms folded, watching the nine mountain ferrets run eastward. He only went back inside after they disappeared from sight.
“In a few days, when the snow has melted enough, I’m going to release a few old horses,” he said to Mi Niang as he entered the house. “Are you coming?”
“Release them?” Mi Niang looked up, neatly folded the clothes in her hands and put them in the box, then walked out and asked, “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“It was Uncle Muren who reminded me. The horses my mother gave me when I left the family, he said they were foals she raised when she got married. It’s been almost thirty years, and they’re getting old. I don’t want them to follow us around anymore,” Bahu explained. He planned to take the old horses to the southeast, where the terrain was a bit undulating and there were fewer people passing by. “Let’s go together and bring the three children along too.”
Mi Niang nodded and told the three children. They all hoped for the sun in the sky to be stronger, hoping to melt the snow on the ground sooner.
The Hu family also shared the same idea. They went to the river every day to see how the ice blocks were melting. When the river thawed, they immediately rang the gong to notify everyone that they would set off for Lingshan in six days.
“Why are we leaving so early this year? The ground is still wet,” Bahu wondered, coming back with muddy shoes after going outside. He was about to change his shoes when he stood under the eaves and spoke to Mi Niang, “Let’s wait three days until the ground dries a bit, then we’ll go release the old horses.”
“Okay, these days let’s tidy up the house,” Mi Niang stretched lazily as she came out. The bright halo of light made it difficult for her to open her eyes, and the cool breeze on her face was refreshing. She leaned against Bahu with her hand on his shoulder. “It’s spring again.”
Bahu didn’t say anything but embraced her as they stood side by side under the eaves, looking through the open door at the ice floating in the river, lost in thought.
When it was time for dinner, Mi Niang remembered, “This early departure might be related to Wen Yin’s wife. Didn’t she get pregnant last year? She’s probably due in April or May, and the Hu family might be worried about her giving birth on the road if we leave later.”
As she mentioned it, Bahu also remembered, “Should we go visit her?”
“Forget it, if we don’t go, no one will think of it,” Mi Niang instructed the children, who were eavesdropping nearby, not to mention this to anyone else. “There will be plenty of chances to meet on the road. I’ll take the children to keep her company when we meet.”
In the blink of an eye, it was time to release the old horses. While Mimi prepared breakfast, Bahu took the three children to feed the horses. Today, they were fed rice and corn, and the forage was all good grass. Salt was mixed into the water, and Qiqige even brought a jar of honey, wanting the old horses to taste the salty water before getting a spoonful of sweet honey.
There were a total of seven old horses, living for twenty or thirty years. Their eyes were gentle and kind, resembling those of a benevolent old person when they looked at people. As Qiqige and Jiya approached, they instinctively lowered their heads to nuzzle their hands.
Bahu sighed and walked over to pat each of the old horses on the back. “Old pals, from now on, you’re free. The pasture here is vast, you can go wherever you want, and I won’t be coming to drive you back.”
“Dad, can’t we keep them at home?” Qiqige held onto the horse’s head, reluctant to let go, saying she wanted to take care of them in their old age, just like her grandfather did, leaving them here so they would have a place to stay when it snowed.
But horses were different from humans. They were born to love running freely. Keeping them in a pen was restrictive; releasing them back into the wild was their nature.
Bahu carried the bucket and led the three children back home. “You don’t understand now, but in the future, when you see wild horses and camels in the wilderness, you’ll understand.” Kept in pens, they were like slaves to humans. But in the boundless grasslands, they met people like they met birds, rabbits, and squirrels—equals, unafraid and independent.
The family, along with Ajima who also wanted to join, rode five strong horses and drove seven old ones. Following the direction of the rising sun, they used the strength they had accumulated over the winter in their limbs. The horses’ hooves splattered wet mud and crushed the accumulated snow, their manes dancing freely in the cold wind, gleaming under the bright sun once again.
Bahu pulled the reins, ordering the big black horse to stop. The others behind him also slowed down, holding the reins, watching as the old horses, now released from their restraints, galloped farther and farther away, crossing two hills and then looking back as if they understood something.
The man didn’t say a word, panting heavily, staring at the old horses that had accompanied him through the toughest years. When they turned their heads and trotted off into the distance again, he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glaring light and murmured, “Born on the grassland, returned to the grassland.”
The old horses disappeared into the distance, and only the five horses turned back. On their way back, they encountered Aobao, who was also riding an old horse, leading about a dozen old horses.
“Already back?” The old man halted his horse.
“Yeah,” Bahu nodded, looking at the horse beneath him. “Getting old, isn’t it?” Its teeth were worn down.
Aobao held up four fingers. “Almost forty years. I hope it lives a few more years. When I die, we’ll be buried together.”
The two groups parted ways. Jiya was curious about how long horses could live. “Aren’t you supposed to release the old horses? Why are they buried with people?”
In the Mobei, it was a custom to kill old horses after their owners died, so the horses could accompany their owners in death. Bahu didn’t want to elaborate, so he changed the subject and taught the children how to assess a horse’s health. The most important thing was their teeth; if their teeth were bad, their appetite would suffer, leading to eventual death from illness.
“While their teeth are still good, we’ll release them into the wild to live freely for a few more years. After they die, their bodies will feed other carnivores, nourish the land beneath them, and next year, more lush grass will grow, raising even fatter livestock.”
On the day they set out for Lingshan, not a single one of the nine Wildcats returned, and they hadn’t seen them for several days.
“They’ve probably gone back to the mountains. If they come back later, use meat to lure them in so they don’t wander off to Lingshan,” Bahu instructed Uncle Muren. “As long as someone’s at home, they probably won’t run away.”
“I’ll feed them if they come back, but if they insist on leaving, I can’t stop them,” the old man replied cautiously.
Qiqige and Jiya had already mounted their horses, watching as the dogs drove the sheep far away. They glanced to the east but didn’t see Da Hu and Xiao Mo, so they had to wave goodbye to the old man. “Grandpa, we’re leaving. Make sure to eat well and rest well at home, and if you get sick, go see the doctor.”
“Alright, alright.” As soon as the children spoke, the old man forgot about Bahu and walked over to chat with the three children, shaking hands with Habul. “Another year older. When you come back in the fall, don’t forget about Grandpa.”
“I definitely won’t forget.” Habul patted his chest confidently. “Grandpa, make sure to fatten up the pigs. When I come back in winter, I want to eat pork.”
“Just remember to eat.” Mi Niang teased him, poking him lightly. As she saw the procession ahead leaving, she said to the old man, “We’re leaving now. Make sure to socialize with people and don’t stay cooped up at home.”
The old man nodded and took a few steps back, standing on the steps to watch the departing carriages and horses.
The snow on the road hadn’t completely melted yet, and there were still puddles in low-lying areas. The constables led the way, scouting ahead and guiding the group through winding paths until they reached the main road, making the journey much easier.
Qiqige and Jiya switched to riding camels, keeping an eye on the sheep while chatting with the servants who were traveling with them.
When the sun reached its zenith, Mi Niang also took the youngest child out of the Lele cart. She took off her sheepskin coat and draped it over the horse’s back, then blew a whistle to call the two children over. “Feeling hot? Sweating?”
“I’ve already taken it off.” Qiqige lifted her skirt to show she was only wearing a thin dress underneath.
“Who took it off for you?”
“Ajima.” Qiqige pointed, and indeed, Ajima was riding a horse, with various colorful cotton coats draped over its back, some for her, some for Jiya, and some for himself.
“Alright, if you feel cold again, put them back on. If you get sick, you can’t ride camels anymore, you’ll have to sit with me and the youngest in the Lele cart.”
The three children were full of excitement and couldn’t sit still. They preferred to ride outside, even if it meant enduring the wind and bumps. Riding camels back and forth, they would come back to claim a copper coin for each stray sheep they herded back. After three days, their once-empty pockets were now bulging.
That day, Qiqige expressed a desire to eat dumplings, so Mi Niang chopped up radishes and sheep meat, sitting in the Lele Leaving cart to roll out the dough for the filling. When she heard Jiya excitedly shouting, she opened the door and saw him holding a newborn lamb standing on a hill, with the mother sheep circling around him.
“Da Hu and Xiao Mo have caught up!” Qiqige exclaimed, waving her hands as she ran to meet them. Finally, humans and wildcats rolled into a ball together.
One, two, three… eight/nine, nine of them, not one missing.
Mi Niang looked at Bahu. “Now you won’t be worried anymore, right?”
The man gave a big smile. “Not worried anymore, they’re well taken care of.”
It wasn’t time for a break yet, so he blew the whistle to urge the two children to get back on the cow’s back and continue the journey.
Leaving in early spring, they could come back again by late autumn.
