Qiqige and Jiya were born on the third day of the seventh month. With a full month passed, it was now August. Mi Nang calculated and realized that in another half month, it would be time to move again. When the whole family lay in bed at night, Mi Niang brought up the topic of relocation.
“It’s time to prepare for the move. How did this year pass so quickly? It feels like we just left Guchuan, and now we’re going back,” Bahu said, propping his head up to look at the person inside the bed. The candlelight cast a warm glow on her face, half bright and half hidden in the darkness, creating a captivating and mysterious allure. After giving birth, her figure became more exquisite and alluring, retaining its fullness without losing its charm. The innocence from a year ago vanished from her features, replaced by a more mature and enticing allure.
The man’s gaze was intense and fiery, and Mi Niang couldn’t help but notice. She lowered her eyes, ran her fingers through a strand of hair, and let them rest on her chest. Her fair and tender fingers gently caressed, leading the gaze across the room to follow her movements.
A loud swallow broke the silent yet sultry night. The two of them sat up simultaneously, with the man getting off the bed first. As Mi Niang stepped across the bed where the two children were sleeping, she was about to take a step when her leg was caught, and she was lifted off the ground.
The only two hens flapped their wings next to the dog’s nest, and the playful puppy barked twice. The sound penetrated through several layers of felt and entered the room but was overshadowed by the hurried and breathless sounds from inside the felt bag. Mi Niang held onto Bahu’s head, pecking lightly at his eyes and ears, and when her neck was held tightly, she clung tightly to the man’s narrow and thin waist. He was hungry, and she wanted it too.
The felt spread on the ground wasn’t used to avoid waking up the children in bed. Bahu carried Mi Niang to the far corner of the felt bag. Afraid of hitting her head, Mi Niang had to bend over, making it convenient for Bahu’s actions. He tightly grasped both legs around her waist and was reluctant to let go.
The door opened and closed. Da Huang, sleeping in the dog’s nest, stretched lazily. Seeing Bahu holding a milk bucket, it wagged its tail and followed him out.
Uncle Muren slept in the felt bag near the riverbank. As soon as he heard footsteps approaching, he woke up immediately, grabbing the machete under his pillow and loudly asking, “Who is it?”
“It’s me. You sleep, I’m going out to check the cattle and sheep.” Bahu carried a wooden bucket and walked downstream to the river, with Da Huang following him with its tail wagging, a rare sight when it didn’t bother him.
He was scolded by Aobao as a thief when he approached the flock, and only after squeezing two bowls of milk did he head back. When boiling the milk, he scooped two spoonfuls for Da Huang, sparing the dog that usually followed him everywhere.
As soon as the milk was brought into the room, Qiqige woke up at the smell. Even before opening her eyes, she made a sound. When she cried, Jiya also cried along. They each picked up a child and sat on the felt. The two bowls were placed on the bed, and each one used a wooden spoon to feed the milk. However, both children were not accustomed to this way of drinking milk. Even if their stomachs were filled, they cried with discomfort. They only slept after crying and tired.
Bahu took two kicks and didn’t dare to retaliate. He humbly crouched under the bed, softly apologizing, “I won’t misbehave again. You sleep; I’ll wait for them to pee, change, and clean them before going to sleep.”
Mi Niang had long been exhausted, her bones were all soft. After all the fuss, her eyelids were sticking together. As soon as she heard the word “sleep,” she collapsed onto the bed. In the latter half of the night, when the children needed to be breastfed, it was Bahu who held her and fed the children.
Surprisingly, this position allowed him to experience the feeling of breastfeeding, gaining some understanding of Bala’s feelings. The more inaccessible, the more one desires to experience; no wonder it liked to snuggle the puppy on its belly while sleeping.
The next morning, when Mi Niang woke up, she asked Bahu if he had fed the children milk in the middle of the night. Why didn’t she have any memory of being awakened to feed them?
“Not milk, I helped you feed them,” the morning sun illuminated the room, and the mischievous smile on the man’s face was evident. Bahu walked to the bedside, embraced Mi Niang from behind, pressed his chin against the top of her head, and vividly explained how he had helped last night. “The perspective from above is more captivating than looking straight on.” He patted her leg, exposed outside the blanket, and a few blue fingerprints were visible on the hem of her underpants. Bahu couldn’t help but caress them.
The memories from last night surfaced again, and Mi Niang moved her leg, pinching the man’s wrist. This was crazy; she was in heat so early in the morning.
“Breakfast is almost ready, hurry up and eat.” Bahu had come in to check if the children were awake. He cleared his throat and quickly left, telling Old Man Muren who was waiting outside, “Both children haven’t woken up yet. Come back around noon to carry them.”
“Sleeping more means growing faster. I’ll come back earlier at noon then.” The old man spoke and didn’t leave. He followed Bahu into the felt tent, whispering, “Master, haven’t you told Mi Niang about changing the way she addresses me? Yesterday, she still called me ‘uncle.'”
“It might take some time for her to get used to it. It slipped out naturally.” Bahu, seeing that the old man cared about it, nodded and said, “We’ll pay attention next time.” He also made mistakes in addressing people, especially when there were many others calling Muren Da Ye, and he would follow suit.
“I thought you hadn’t told her yet.” Seeing that the old man still cared, Bahu assured him, “We’ll be more careful next time.” Sometimes even he would mistakenly address people, especially when there were many others calling Muren Da Ye, and he would follow suit.
“I thought maybe you hadn’t told her.” It seemed that the old man could now rest assured, thinking that Mi Niang might not agree to let the children call him Grandpa, and that’s why she kept calling him Uncle.
“I’ll go milk the cows and churn butter.” Uncle Muren left but returned shortly after. “The sheep have all been sheared. Shall we start washing and selecting the wool these days?”
“Yes, you take care of it.” Bahu valued the tanning of hides, and cowhide and sheepskin were valuable. Washing and shearing the wool were tasks he assigned to Uncle Muren. Previously, it was Uncle Chaolu, but this year, with the arrival of a new male servant, he hadn’t found a suitable replacement yet.
Last night, the two children drank boiled cow’s milk, and aside from being unhappy with the feeding method, there were no other issues. Mi Niang observed them all day before finally feeling reassured enough to leave the two children in Bahu’s care. She wanted to ride a horse with Da Huang to check on her beehives.
“How about I invite Mu Xiang to help watch the children, and we’ll go together? You don’t know the exact location, and it’s also your first time riding a horse alone.” Bahu was concerned.
Waving her hand without any reluctance, Mi Niang indicated that she would be back if she couldn’t find the beehive. From pregnancy to postpartum recovery, she had been cooped up for nearly a year. Going out usually meant being in the carriage, and staying at home involved walking a few laps around the vicinity. The summer on the vast grassland was so beautiful, but she hadn’t paid much attention last year. This year, she wanted to ride a horse and enjoy the beauty of the summer.
“You said old horses know the way, right? I’ll ride your horse and bring Da Huang along. We won’t get lost.” She hadn’t been on horseback since learning to ride, so Mi Niang somewhat awkwardly stepped into the saddle and mounted the horse. Suddenly elevated, her field of vision widened, and it seemed like she could see even farther.
“Why does it look like you’re ready to abandon your family and elope?” Bahu, despite feeling a bit unappreciated, swung onto the horse behind her. Taking her around the yurts a few times, he teased, “Run around nearby by yourself first, practice a bit, and then take Da Huang to check on the beehive.” He dared not go too far, fearing that if the children woke up and couldn’t see anyone, they would cry.
Mi Niang was out to enjoy horse riding, not to seek trouble. Following Bahu’s suggestion, she ran up and down along the river, and when she saw Mu Xiang tending to the sheep, she rode over to say hello. Mu Xiang managed over a hundred sheep alone, and not far away, separated by less than a mile, were the hundred sheep tended by Pandi and Lan Niang.
Bahu, hearing the sound of hooves returning, came back as well. Da Huang, that partial dog, wagged its tail loudly and ran out. Bahu glanced at his son, still frowning while pooping, and didn’t dare to move. He could only sit inside and listen as Da Huang burped, and the sound of hooves gradually faded away.
They were already at the doorstep, and he still hadn’t come in to check on the children. Bahu assessed the two small ones, they weren’t ugly, and their temperaments were good. Why did it seem like their birth mother couldn’t win their affection?
Having made four beehives and a bee-attracting bucket, Mi Niang followed Bahu’s instructions and first saw a tree on a slope quite far from the river. Few people came here, and even cattle and sheep avoided it because the grass growth was poor.
Mi Niang hopped off the saddle, holding Da Huang, who seemed a bit shaky after the run. It lay on the ground for a while before finally standing up.
“Don’t come too close; I won’t take responsibility if a bee stings you.” Mi Niang wore Bahu’s long robe, a hat, and a face mask. She even wore sheepskin gloves that she usually wore in winter. Fearless, she approached the beehive. She was not afraid if the bees got startled and flew out; in fact, she was happy about it. She used the bee-attracting bucket to attract the bees. With her hands inside, she touched the honeycomb, and honey had already been produced, though not much.
She picked a piece from the edge but gave up as the bees chased her for quite a distance.
Da Huang had run away long before the bees arrived. It wagged its tail eagerly, staring at the honey in Mi Niang’s hand.
“Still craving honey, Da Huang? Your taste is so peculiar; even Bala and Alse wolves don’t eat sweet things.” Mi Niang washed her hands by the river, picked a chunk for herself, and then picked another to feed Da Huang.
“It’s not as good as the honey brewed in Qianchaling.” Osmanthus honey was the sweetest, chrysanthemum honey was mild, and camellia honey had a subtle fragrance of tea leaves with a hint of bitterness, making it even more precious.
These were all preferences expressed by outsiders. Mi Niang liked osmanthus honey and spring blossom honey. For her, honey had to be sweet and delightful, with a clear bitterness within the sweetness. This made her feel it was purely a luxury developed from wealth.
The honey produced here seemed to align with the tastes of literati and scholars; not too sweet, with a subtle floral fragrance. Most of the flowers and herbs on the grassland were medicinal, lacking a strong flavor.
With only a small chunk left, Mi Niang contemplated whether to eat it herself or feed it to Da Huang. In her peripheral vision, she noticed two black horse hooves. When she looked up, she saw a big black horse with a pair of curious eyes staring at her honey-filled hand, revealing a mouthful of large teeth.
“Do you want some too?” Mi Niang raised her hand, offering it to the horse, and it opened its mouth. “What kind of creatures do we keep at home? Whenever human mouths move, you all come crowding around.” She had seen Bahu feed sugar cubes to horses, so she confidently tossed the honeycomb into the horse’s mouth. Even after she undressed and sat on Da Huang’s back, it was still smacking its lips, savoring the taste.
