Chapter 33 Hometown

Chapter 33 Hometown

They arrived in Yakeshi [Yakeshi]—a place Xie Chong [Xie Chong] had never heard of before meeting Mou Wen [Mou Wen]—on the evening of the second day. It was like a pearl nestled between the Greater Khingan Mountains and Hulunbuir.

It was a summer evening.

The small town had wisps of chimney smoke rising, and children were running along the streets. Their car had traveled nearly two thousand kilometers, its body splattered with bug guts. Xie Chong insisted on finding a car wash to clean it first.

Mou Wen said, "Nobody in Yakeshi washes cars better than my dad. Don't worry about it~"

"How does he wash it?" Xie Chong asked.

"You'll see in a bit." Mou Wen was deliberately keeping him in suspense.

Mou Wen started directing Xie Chong: turn left, then right—see that nice storefront? That's my family's bun shop. Then see the building next to it? That's my home.

Xie Chong was dizzy from her directions—he saw neither the bun shop nor the building. Mou Wen got anxious and said, "Stop the car. I'll get out and lead the way. Just follow me."

It wasn't really Xie Chong's fault. In Mou Wen's eyes, everything about her home was unique and striking. But to Xie Chong, it all looked ordinary. The shop signs on the street were written in both Chinese and Mongolian, the Chinese text not very large, and the Mongolian script all looked identical.

It was only about two hundred yards.

Mou Wen got out and walked ahead, with Xie Chong's car following behind. There were few cars on the street, and people in the shops saw Mou Wen and called out to her loudly, "Girl, you're back? Summer vacation?"

"Do government units have summer vacation too? What unit?"

"How could a unit have summer vacation? Mou Wen's back on business, right?"

...People stood on the sidewalk discussing, and Xie Chong watched Mou Wen like Yakeshi's little celebrity, smiling and waving at everyone: "I'm back~ I'm back~"

Xie Chong's car was actually the second thing noticed—everyone was too busy talking to Mou Wen, then they saw the car behind her and said, "The girl rented a car to come back. The car looks nice, and the driver's pretty handsome."

Xie Chong heard that loud and clear and thought, Are these people blind? Do I look like a driver?

But then he started getting a bit nervous. He finally saw Mou Wen's family bun shop and the row of people standing in front of it: some were wearing Mongolian robes, and one elderly man was bent over almost at a right angle. The ruddy-faced herders looked fierce, their narrow eyes gleaming with a wolfish light.

Mou Wen had already run toward them, arms outstretched, leaping into her relatives' arms. Then she pointed forward, and everyone's gaze turned in unison toward Xie Chong's car—and then at Xie Chong himself.

Xie Chong quickly parked, taking a deep breath before he got out.

He didn't like crowds. He'd thought coming to Yakeshi would be an escape from the city, a little vacation, but he hadn't expected to be gawked at like some "fossil" here.

Xie Chong got out and went up to greet Mou Wen's relatives.

It was ridiculous—a whole crowd receiving him. Mou Wen stood beside him, introducing each one, and with each introduction, he bowed and shook hands. After going through them all, apart from Mou Wen's parents and the bent-over grandmother, he couldn't remember a single one—the Mongolian names were too weird. Not his fault.

Ge Yunqing [Ge Yunqing] and Mou Dechang [Mou Dechang] were both quietly observing Xie Chong.

When Mou Wen had asked for the household registry, Ge Yunqing had cried at home for two days. The elders were heartbroken by Mou Wen's sudden marriage plans: they thought she was rushing to marry a "Laobeijing" to get a foothold in Beijing. They didn't quite understand what "Laobeijing" meant. When Mou Wen explained Xie Chong's situation, they didn't believe it, thinking he must be some "old geezer"—why else would he be called "Laobeijing"? All they'd caught was the "old" part.

But the "Laobeijing" turned out to be a handsome young guy.

The "Laobeijing" had already turned around to fetch things from the trunk. First, he brought out cigarettes, handing each relative a carton. When curious neighbors gathered, he broke them down into individual packs to hand out. "Soft China" cigarettes were "hard currency"—who wouldn't want to offer someone a "China cigarette" while chatting? So everyone couldn't help praising Xie Chong: "Generous! Beijingers are generous!"

Mou Wen's heart was aching. Xie Chong was handing out cigarettes, but all she saw was him scattering money: RMB flying through the air, cash raining from the sky. She secretly pinched Xie Chong's arm, but he whispered back like a total goof, "Don't interfere."

After the commotion, the relatives dispersed, leaving only Mou Wen's family, and only then did Xie Chong get a chance to catch his breath. Mou Dechang, Yakeshi's number-one "traveling salesman," said, "Let me show you around our Wenwen's [Wenwen] home."

Mou Dechang had driven big trucks across the country in his younger days, then made a living wandering around Yakeshi. He was a real talker, warm-hearted and outgoing. He stood with Xie Chong in front of the bun shop, explaining how the business worked, and casually noted it was the best bun shop in Yakeshi. Then he took Xie Chong to the house—an old, small two-bedroom apartment that was spotlessly clean.

Mou Dechang showed Xie Chong the wall of Mou Wen's awards.

That award wall was every parent's dream: two layers of certificates covering an entire wall.

Mou Wen stood in front of the award wall, arms spread wide but still not covering it, showing off: "See? These are all mine."

Xie Chong stepped forward to look.

They were all from Mou Wen's past, from elementary school all the way through college graduation. Mou Wen had won awards every semester—school, district, city, and provincial "Three-Good Student" awards, outstanding cadre awards, sports competition certificates, and one for an arts competition.

"You have artistic talent?" Xie Chong asked.

"This one? It's a group competition. We did a Mongolian dance." Mou Wen stood up straight and demonstrated a shoulder shrug for Xie Chong: "Like this, and we won."

"That low a bar?" Xie Chong teased her.

"Can you do it?"

"No."

"Then why are you talking nonsense?"

Mou Dechang laughed and said, "You two sit for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon. We'll eat at home today, and tomorrow I'll take you down to the pasture."

He headed out, and Mou Wen walked him to the door. When she turned back, she saw Xie Chong practicing the shoulder shrug. He really never backed down!

Mou Wen teased him: "It's okay. God doesn't open every window for you. No need to regret not being able to dance."

"Is that so?" Xie Chong stood up straight, casually raised his arm and did two K-pop moves—looking damn good—then said, "Sorry, but God opened this window for me, and it's pretty wide—almost a floor-to-ceiling one."

He spun around, hit an ending pose with his arms crossed, and gave a slight chin lift: "See? Floor-to-ceiling window."

Mou Wen was floored.

She knew Xie Chong was competitive, but she didn't know he could actually dance. How had he managed to stay so composed through all that music on the drive here that nearly blew their heads off? He really was a strange person.

Ge Yunqing had laid out a table full of good food.

Because of Yakeshi's unique location, its eating habits blended Northeastern and Inner Mongolian cuisine. So Ge Yunqing's spread featured all the local delicacies: wild mountain vegetable salads with mugwort and Siberian ginseng leaves, farm-raised venison, roasted lamb leg, pork stew with sauerkraut, and a huge reservoir fish that Mou Dechang had gone out of his way to buy at the morning market.

It was a simple, sincere family meal.

With no outsiders left, Xie Chong brought the things from the car into the house before dinner.

The Maotai liquor, cigarettes, tea, and gift boxes were placed by the table. His parents had originally wanted to come with him, saying that no matter what, they had to make the trip—it was a matter of propriety, and they couldn't let Mou Wen's family think they were taking their daughter lightly. But Liao Xiaohua [Liao Xiaohua] had had a relapse after her last surgery and needed to go to the hospital for a checkup. They discussed with Xie Chong whether they could drive themselves and have the elders fly over. Xie Chong said, "Don't come. It's a long way over mountains and rivers. If something goes wrong with your health, it'll be a real problem."

The elders didn't come, but the gifts did. Inside the gift boxes were presents from his parents: five gold bars and a set of gold jewelry. They hadn't prepared cash because they didn't know how much would be appropriate.

So when the meal began, Xie Chong wanted to say a few words.

He said, "Dad, Mom, this is my first visit. Originally, my parents were going to come together, but my mother is ill, so I came alone. It's a bit rude, and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I never asked about the customs for marrying off a daughter in Yakeshi, so I prepared things according to Mou Wen's preferences."

My preferences? Mou Wen heard this and looked at the gift boxes, thinking, Please don't let it be a big bankbook. I like money.

Xie Chong stood up and opened the gift box, revealing several red velvet cases. He took out the one with the gold bars, opened it, and placed it on the table. He was about to open another when Mou Wen grabbed his sleeve: "Sit down and eat."

Mou Wen's parents' feelings were complicated.

They were not parents who were dazzled by money, and they knew well how harsh the world's judgment could be. Mou Wen marrying a wealthy Beijing local—by now, word must have spread through the small town. Some would say that Mou Wen girl is truly impressive, but others would whisper that she must be putting up with a lot.

When Xie Chong laid out his gifts, the old couple were at a loss.

They didn't have that much to give as a dowry.

Mou Wen understood her parents' feelings—they were proud people, and Xie Chong's generosity might only make them uncomfortable.

At that moment, Mou Dechang spoke to Xie Chong: "Dad doesn't smoke or drink, but I appreciate the thought. The cigarettes you handed out earlier have already done their job. Take the rest of the cigarettes and liquor back with you, and keep these gold bars for yourselves. Mom and Dad don't have much money—the hundred thousand in this bankbook is for you two to start your life together."

He actually pulled out a bankbook.

After the car accident wiped them out, they'd scraped it together by being frugal and working hard over the years. They had always been grateful that their daughter was sensible—studying hard, working hard, never causing them trouble. And because of that, they felt even more indebted to her.

Mou Dechang, as a father, tears up easily. He wiped his eyes with his hand, feeling like he had so little to give his daughter.

Xie Chong realized he had laid it on too thick.

It suddenly dawned on him that he had come across as if Mou Wen had "married up," when all he had wanted was to be sincere.

Mou Wen then picked up the two gift boxes and said to Xie Chong, "Well, say something!"

"Dad, Mom, that's not what I meant. I just wanted to reassure you both: Mou Wen won't be mistreated or have a hard time marrying me. Don't read too much into it." He packed up the gold and the gift boxes: "I'll take these back and give them all to Mou Wen. But the cigarettes and liquor, I'm not taking back. I was planning to share them at the pasture tomorrow."

Ge Yunqing snorted: "This boy is so silly. Do you know how much those herders can drink? These boxes of Maotai would be finished in a day. Such a waste." She said, "We've got money, but we shouldn't blow it like that. I'm making the call—we're keeping the cigarettes and liquor. From now on, when you come back, we'll entertain you with your own cigarettes and liquor. Tomorrow, have your dad take you to buy some regular stuff to bring to the pasture."

"Okay, that works." Xie Chong said, sounding a little apologetic: "It's my first time here, and I don't know how things are done around here. I was afraid I'd do something wrong."

"You did just fine, dear." Ge Yunqing said: "What a good kid. Let's eat—let's not be so formal. It's too scary."

Ge Yunqing stood up and bustled around, getting Xie Chong to eat.

Xie Chong was beginning to see where Mou Wen got her stubborn streak—her mother was just the same. Everything she touched seemed weightless in her hands, her movements incredibly swift. In the blink of an eye, a bowl of rice was set before him, like she had some kind of martial arts speed.

Mou Wen's father, on the other hand, had a bit of a bookish look, not like the usual guys around here: he wore a plaid short-sleeved shirt with all the buttons buttoned, spoke slowly and carefully, and his fingernails were spotless.

No matter where you are, a guy with clean nails is just nice to see. Xie Chong was glad that Mou Wen's father didn't have long pinky nails with dirt under them.

He wondered why he was noticing such things. It wasn't until after dinner, sitting outside fanning off mosquitoes, that it clicked: he had been worried before coming.

He had feared that Mou Wen's parents might be the kind of people who were struggling—he had been anxious: if he stood before two raggedy old folks who were scared stiff of him, how would he react? He was afraid he'd mess it up.

But Mou Wen's parents were not like that.

Thank God, Xie Chong let out a long breath.

Mou Wen asked him what was wrong—why the sigh?

Xie Chong said, "The sky at night in your hometown feels so close."

Mou Wen replied, "Then you haven't seen the pasture at night! You'll see it tomorrow night."

"What are we doing in the coming days?" Xie Chong asked.

"Over the next few days, I'm taking you to the pasture to herd sheep!" Mou Wen stood up and patted the dust off her pants: "Since you're in Hulunbuir, wouldn't it be a shame not to catch some lambs out there?"

"Isn't that a little childish?" Xie Chong teased.

"Childish?" Mou Wen didn't get it: "How strange—why are young people these days trying to act old while old people try to act young? Aren't young people supposed to run, jump, make mistakes, and try things? We're only in our twenties—why should we act like we're thirty, forty, or fifty-something? I don't care—I'm going to catch lambs and herd sheep. If you don't want to come, you can just stay in the yurt."

"Staying in a yurt?" Xie Chong asked again.

"There are also bungalows."

"Pit toilets?"

"Yep."

"What about food?"

"Why do you have so many questions?!" Mou Wen was getting annoyed with Xie Chong's interrogation. She threatened him: "Keep this up, and you can stay here and help my mom make buns. I'm going to the pasture no matter what. I go there every year for a few days."

Seeing her get riled up, Xie Chong grabbed her arm: "I'm just teasing you. Tell me—what do you love most about the pasture?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

Back in Yakeshi, Mou Wen had reverted to being a daughter of Yakeshi. That night, she slept with her mother, while Xie Chong stayed at a small inn nearby.

Xie Chong had never stayed in such a place before and found it novel.

Unlike big-city hotels, the quilt at this little inn smelled of sunshine. The innkeeper was a Mongolian woman whose Mandarin wasn't great. She talked to Xie Chong with a mix of gestures and words, and it took him a while to understand: she was saying, "Our place is very clean—we air our quilts in the sun every day."

She was afraid Xie Chong would look down on the small inn of Yakeshi, just as Mou Wen's parents worried he might not like their home.

What honest, down-to-earth people these Yakeshi folks were!

Xie Chong slept wonderfully that night.

The next morning, light filtered through the curtains. When he turned over and glanced at the time, it was 4 a.m. At 4 a.m., dawn was already breaking over the small town of Yakeshi. He felt like he was experiencing jet lag—he couldn't fall back asleep.

He pushed open the window, and a cool breeze swept in, instantly refreshing him. Looking down at the street, the bun shop was already open.

It must have been open for a while, because steam was rising from the steaming baskets. Someone sat at a table, sipping a pot of milk tea and chewing on a pickled vegetable, waiting for the buns to be ready. Mou Wen's parents were busy at work.

Mou Wen's parents didn't have a downtrodden look either. Even while working, they chatted and laughed, radiating joy. In that way, Mou Wen took after them.

The bun shop was Yakeshi's alarm clock.

When the first batch of buns was ready, Yakeshi fully woke up. People began strolling the streets, going about their work; geese wandered out on their own, and cats and dogs followed suit. One man even walked two lambs on a leash, hands clasped behind his back.

This was a world apart from Beijing's bustling traffic, just as Mou Wen had once said: "People back home, when they think of Beijing, they dream of Tiananmen. They feel Beijing is so far away, hard to reach. If someone's child works and settles in Beijing, it's like they've leapt straight to the heavens."

"Why?" Xie Chong didn't understand.

"You'll get it once you're there."

These were two different worlds.

Xie Chong decided to go for a run.

The time was perfect—he covered over ten kilometers in no time. Back at the bun shop, he helped the old couple carry trays. People asked, "Is this the son-in-law from Beijing?"

Ge Yunqing said, "Yeah, jealous? Too bad—you don't have one."

She loved to joke, and she laughed at her own quip first, and everyone joined in. Mou Wen came downstairs looking fresh and clean, and the bun shop grew even livelier. She knew everyone and could chat with anyone—Xie Chong could see that everyone adored her. Ge Yunqing handed her a few takeout boxes to deliver, and she dragged Xie Chong along with her.

They ended up covering half of Yakeshi.

Xie Chong asked, "You do delivery orders too?"

"No, they're old friends of the family, too old to get around anymore."

Xie Chong saw the "old friends" of Mou Wen's family, all pitiful old folks. He suddenly understood why Mou Wen was so hung up on money: because she'd seen and lived through real poverty.

Everyone wants to climb higher in life. Even if it's cold up there, they still want to climb up and see just how cold it really is.

She left Yakeshi, went to Tianjin and Beijing, and nickel-and-dimed her previous employer—it all made sense now.

Before setting off, Mou Wen got busy washing the car.

Mou Dechang pulled out a long hose, grabbed a rag and some supplies, and washed the car out front of the baozi shop. He hosed the car down first, then slathered on some kind of cleaner, covering the body in foam... Mou Wen and Mou Dechang clearly loved washing the car themselves. Father and daughter worked like a well-oiled team, each holding one end of a long cloth, pulling it from the front to the back of the car—just as good as any car wash in Beijing.

The car was seriously spotless.

Unreal.

What a family.

On the way to the pasture, Mou Dechang cautioned Xie Chong: "If you can't hold your liquor, don't push it. The folks here drink hard, and it's all baijiu—the strong stuff."

"Okay, thanks, Dad," Xie Chong said. "I can handle a bit. Just to be polite, I'll have a little with them."

Mou Dechang glanced at him, then asked Mou Wen: "How much can he drink? Give me a ballpark."

Mou Wen shook her head.

Mou Dechang: "Not at all?"

Mou Wen said: "He's never gotten drunk." Then she burst out laughing: "Just kidding! I don't know how much he can handle—sometimes he can, sometimes he can't. Dad, pull over—I wanna roll around in the grass!"

They passed by an incredibly beautiful meadow.

A winding stream flowed in from the horizon, clouds from the sky spilled onto the river's surface, and as the wind rippled the water, the clouds swayed along. Lambs bleated in groups by the river, grazing together. Huge swaths of green slammed into their eyes.

Mou Dechang stopped the car, reclined his seat, flung open the windows and doors, and started napping. Meanwhile, Mou Wen and Xie Chong launched into a running race, both sprinting deep into the grassland.

The wind whistled past their ears, Mou Wen's hair and skirt hem flying up. Xie Chong's linen white shirt billowed in the breeze, puffing up like a "Turtle Immortal."

No one else in sight.

No busy streets, no skyscrapers the sun can't get through, no endless to-do lists chasing them day after day. Nothing at all.

So where's the real high ground?

Country folks long for the city—that's their peak; city folks crave the countryside—that's theirs.

Wherever your heart longs for, that's the peak!

They ran on, reaching the water's edge, to the river where clouds lined up to fall. They threw their arms wide and fell back, the vast grassland catching them.

Their chests were heaving hard from the run.

Neither of them said a word.

They both truly treasured this moment.

Treasured this rare, blissful time.