Chapter 200: Mongolian Grassland, Clear Weather
Zhou You had Xiao Si buy satellite phones and also told him to think about what else they might need and buy more. Li Houliang, feeling uneasy, went along with Xiao Si to shop. Now, Li Houliang didn’t need Zhou You’s approval for every expense—the martial arts gym was already profitable, so small amounts could be drawn directly, though large sums still required Zhou You’s consent. Li Houliang wasn’t sure either, but he figured they should buy whatever they could; wasting money wasn’t a big deal, but running out of something when needed would be. Agula, having some experience, tagged along and served as a porter.
They bought satellite phones—first time, no experience, didn’t know which brand was good, so they grabbed several. They bought windbreakers, since the temperature difference between day and night on the grassland was huge. Mosquito repellent and insect spray, because the grassland was swarming with mosquitoes and bugs. High-top boots, in case they hit rough roads or needed protection from snake bites. Cold and diarrhea medicine—getting acclimated was normal, and uneven temperatures could easily make people sick. Finally, they picked up some water and food for emergencies on the road. They ended up with a pile of odds and ends; luckily, they drove there, or they wouldn’t have been able to haul it all.
Zhou You had initially wanted to bring Sun Li along, but she was busy with the music fund project, so he didn’t push it—there would be plenty of chances later. They stayed one night and set off early the next morning. Yu Qian and his companion drove a Toyota Prado. Zhou You and his three others took a Jeep Wrangler. Heading to the grassland, it was a fitting choice. Xiao Si drove, with Zhou You in the back.
Looking at Agula, Zhou You suddenly recalled a documentary he’d seen before and asked, “Agula, have you watched that documentary *Mongolian Grassland, Clear Weather*?”
Agula had been cheerful, but at Zhou You’s words, his mood suddenly dropped. “You Ge, I’ve seen it. That documentary was pretty widely shared around our grassland area. Even though it’s about Mongolia, it’s all within the grassland realm.”
“Yeah, nomadic life isn’t easy—sleeping under the sky, bedding on the ground, moving with the water and grass. It sounds romantic, but the reality is full of hardships,” Zhou You said, deeply impressed by the documentary. It mainly told the story of a little girl growing up on the grassland. Her name was Puujee. At six, she was discovered by a Japanese director, who was captivated by her strong, independent spirit and recorded her life. Her family lived in a yurt; her father was absent, so she shouldered life’s burdens from a young age. At six, she rode horses with skill and grace, looking like a future king on horseback. The documentary was filmed every few years, aiming to track her growth. But when the director returned for the second shoot, Puujee’s mother was gone. Losing both parents, a child loses their childhood. Joy grew scarcer, and she became more withdrawn. When the director came back again, only a photo remained on the table. Little Puujee had passed away too. Only her younger brother was left. Though the documentary focused heavily on Puujee, Zhou You, while watching her, also thought of her young brother. How harsh life can be. He used to think *To Live* was just a novel, but after falling in love with documentaries, he realized that living was everywhere in the human world. Zhou You figured that was why *To Live* endured—each bowl of life’s noodles, once eaten, is one less; each meeting with longing, once had, is one fewer.
Agula’s mood grew even heavier. “We grassland people’s lives are like wild grass—fragile yet tough.”
“Yeah, human life is like grass, or dandelions—blown by the wind, never knowing where they’ll land, taking root wherever they fall. Just like people today, leaving home without knowing where they’ll stay.” Zhou You thought of himself, his classmates, his relatives and friends.
“My father told me that life brings many hardships, but no matter where or when, we must hold onto hope. We are children of the grassland, and fate can’t knock us down.” After saying this, Agula perked up again. Every people that survives and endures has its own unique traits.
“Agula, are there still many nomads now?” Zhou You asked curiously.
“Very few, because the grasslands are all contracted out now.” Agula gave a bitter smile.
Aside from the brief dip in mood while discussing the documentary, the rest of the journey was pleasant. Zhou You, being a sentimental person, had his own ways of coping. In the past, it was reading, gaming, and exercise—making his body release more dopamine and endorphins to lift his spirits, naturally dispelling sorrow. Now, it was cooking and constantly training his body.
This wasn’t peak tourist season, so there weren’t many cars on the road. They drove straight to the grassland and stopped in a city to rest. They were close to their destination, but this trip was about buying horses and sightseeing. No rush. It happened to be Agula’s hometown.
For lunch at a restaurant, they mostly ate meat. Lamb was practically put through its paces—pan-fried, stir-fried, deep-fried, braised, and stewed. Luckily, no one at the table had an issue with lamb, or they’d have gone hungry. Since they weren’t driving that afternoon, they also tried some milk tea and milk liquor. Zhou You curiously asked if they had “Mengdao Donkey”—a bottle a former colleague brought back from a grassland business trip, named that, and it was incredibly potent!
The owner laughed heartily. “We do. Want to give it a try? Strong liquor with lamb—cuts the grease without going to your head.”
Yu Qian couldn’t resist. “Boss, bring a bottle. I like trying different drinks.”
The owner brought one. The packaging had a strong grassland vibe—a silver-embossed handmade leather sleeve, and you could carry it slung over your shoulder. “We usually call it Grassland White. It’s pretty strong, 60 proof. Try a small glass first.”
Yu Qian grabbed it. “Nice look—great for gifts. Boss, give me a case. I’ll put it in the car. Whether it tastes good or not is another story, but I like this design.” A man of impulse. The bottle was generous—1.5 liters. Most liquor bottles claim a jin but are often eight liang. Though the group were seasoned drinkers, they still approached three jin of liquor with respect. The size was designed for daily needs, showing the grassland people’s capacity—or love for it. The cap wasn’t disposable but screw-on, reusable, like a giant flask. Yu Qian twisted it open, poured a glass, and took a small sip. He couldn’t help but exhale. “Strong, fierce!”
Seeing his reaction, everyone got curious and poured small glasses to try. Zhou You felt it—spicy, very spicy, burning his throat a bit. But once it hit his stomach, there was a slight coolness. A unique sensation.