To avoid draining the battery, I turned off the headlights. Searching the car, the only thing useful to me was a half-empty "Three Bowls and You Can't Cross the Hill" wine cup I'd somehow managed to fill on Liangshan Mountain. I took a meager sip, then, cup in hand, arms crossed, I reluctantly left my car, staggering across the vast Mongolian grasslands.
On a certain day of a certain month in an unknown year, on the grassland, there was wind but no moon.
I looked up at the sky with my melancholy eyes, and there were countless stars. To my surprise, I saw the Big Dipper clearly hanging there, pointing due north! That means I won't get lost! Haha!
But then I realized something else: what the hell is the use of knowing north when you're in this unfamiliar grassland?!
Chapter 151 Wolf Totem
I walked forward a dozen steps into the knee-high grass, with only the vast darkness ahead and behind me...
I suddenly felt that spending the night in the car until dawn might be the wisest choice. But what terrified me was that when I turned around, I couldn't find the direction I had come from! I meticulously turned 180 degrees, counting my steps a dozen or so, but there were no cars in that area at all. My lighter wouldn't light in the wind, so I could only turn on my blue-screen phone, barely able to see three steps ahead in the dim light. I wandered around in place for a while, concluding that after this haphazard wandering, my car was probably a million miles away, or maybe just a few steps away, but unless I crashed into it, there was no way I could find it by deliberately looking for it.
This grassland is deadly!
I steeled myself and plunged it headfirst into a fixed direction.
The ecology here is fucking amazing! The grass is waist-high, the stars are so bright they look like you could reach out and touch them, and the night breeze is so clean it feels like breathing pure oxygen. I feel like I'm a pollutant; the air that goes in and out of my lungs is filled with nicotine and car exhaust. A person growing up in this environment can have a healthy body and a bright and cheerful disposition...
But soaking the virus in formalin was definitely a mistake. I felt I'd be eliminated in half an hour at most, especially with that deadly cold wind. But I quickly changed my mind—a loud wolf howl came from afar…
There are wolves here! Long-lost wolves, dear wolves, wolves who have tirelessly strived to oppose the rabbit family. Our elementary school teachers told us the Big Bad Wolf was a villain, but highly educated people aren't so dogmatic. Following the wolves becoming protected animals, profound works like "Remembering the Wolf" and "Wolf Totem" emerged, making many people think of wolves. Many mid-level intellectuals and even members of organized crime have once again promoted wolf culture—I wonder if, when they see a wolf face-to-face, they will pounce on it in worship or run away as fast as they can.
I miss the wise woodcutter in "Mr. Dongguo," I miss the hunter in "Little Red Riding Hood," and I miss the third pig in "The Three Little Pigs"...
The situation is favorable to me: the wolves are unprotected here; the unfavorable situation is: I am also unprotected...
I walked while wiping away tears. To die from a wolf's bite was such a luxury in 2008, yet I felt no joy at all. Suddenly, I saw two flashing lights ahead. I quickly lay down, my speed and posture so perfect that even the Navy SEAL instructors were impressed.
What was that? Was it a wolf's eye or a shepherd's tent?
I stood up quickly because I felt that if the other party was a wolf, lying down at such close range would be useless. If it was standing, it would bite from the legs, while crawling would cover a larger area.
I looked closely, and the two points of light moved in the visible wind, like animals blinking or candle flames. Fortunately, they just swayed there and didn't come any closer. I gritted my teeth and decided to walk over there.
The light on the flat grassland was still intermittent, and sometimes I really wondered if it was just a hallucination caused by my hunger.
I had only walked about 20 meters when I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was indeed a shepherd's tent, with figures floating in the light and shadow. I took off running, shouting before I even got close, "Is anyone there?"
A tall figure lifted the tent flap and asked loudly, "%……￥#* (Mongolian)?"
I excitedly shouted, "%...￥￥￥ (likely a completely new language)!"
The man asked in confusion, "(*--*)!! (Mongolian)?"
I shouted, "*--……% (a completely new language) Uh… can you speak Chinese?" Only then did I realize that I had been shouting along with others for a long time. Why would someone like me, who doesn't even know a few words of English, join in? This phenomenon can be explained as the primal exclamation that one can't help but utter after suddenly discovering a kindred spirit.
The man who came out was a large Mongolian man, dressed in a Mongolian robe. After I spoke a few words, he replied in broken Chinese, "Han Chinese?"
"Yes. We've finally found someone. Could you let me stay for the night?"
The big man hurriedly ushered me into the tent, smiling as he said to the person inside, "We have a guest."
Two ill-shaped tallow candles burned inside the tent. There was a table on the kang (heated brick bed), and a Mongolian woman; it was like a scene from a traditional folk painting, much like the yurts in tourist areas featured on television, except for the lack of a portrait of Genghis Khan…
When the woman saw me come in, she stood up, nodded to me, and without saying a word brought over two pieces of mutton and a jar of mare's milk wine.
I didn't have time to say much. I wolfed down the meat while rubbing my numb hands and feet. When I looked up, I found the couple staring at me in surprise. I said embarrassedly, "Sit down, hehe, I'm really starving."
The man instructed the woman, "Go and fetch some more meat." Then he sat down beside me and asked, "Guest from afar, where do you come from?"
I sighed and said, "I can't even say where I come from." I have a buzz cut on my head now, like a Khitan, and I'm wearing the clothes of a Tang Dynasty nobleman. My pants are from Jiu Mu Wang, and my shoes are from Kang Nai... So, where do you think I'm from?
I saw the man staring at me blankly, so I asked him, "Have you eaten?" I asked this because a quick glance told me that this family was definitely not well-off; there were only a few animal skins and a bow hanging in the tent, nothing else.
The man said, "Just eat, don't worry about us."
Mongolians are so hospitable. I knew from a travel guide that if nomadic Mongolians didn't treat their guests well, it would be considered the greatest shame and a crime. So I didn't show too much restraint. After the woman brought the meat, I pushed the plate towards the center and said, "Let's eat together."
The couple didn't say much, and sat on the kang (a heated brick bed) to eat with me. I kept touching myself all over, and the man asked, "What's wrong?"
I wanted to find something to give back to the couple, but after searching for a long time, I couldn't find anything of value. My hand accidentally touched the half-cup of wine, and I was immediately delighted. I brought it up and said solicitously, "Here, try my wine."
I poured the last drop of liquid into each of their bowls, leaving only a mouthful in their cups. If I had offered gold or silver, the couple certainly wouldn't have accepted it, and might even have been angry. But alcohol is different; Mongolians love alcohol, and refusing a guest's gift is considered impolite. The man downed his drink without hesitation, while the woman showed great interest in the mug. I said, "You can have this mug."
The woman hurriedly said, "It's too valuable, we can't accept it."
"What's so valuable about it? It's fake, only one yuan." I could tell the woman really liked the cup. Back then, Mongolians lived in poverty. Their most valuable possessions weren't cattle or sheep, but various utensils. The nicer containers were all bought back from Han Chinese at high prices. This space cup was lightweight, had a large capacity, and was resistant to bumps and drops. For them, it was like a plasma wall-mounted TV.
At this moment, the man, having recovered from his initial surprise, exclaimed with admiration, "The wine brought by our guest is as delicious as a gift from heaven."
I poured the remaining small sip into his bowl and handed the cup to the woman.
The man solemnly replied, "I am no longer worthy to drink such fine wine; I must offer it to the Great Khan."
I exclaimed in surprise, "The Great Khan? Is it Genghis Khan?"
The man asked, puzzled, "Genghis Khan? Who is that? Who dares to call themselves that—besides us Mongols, the Great Khan?"
The woman explained to me, "It was Temujin, the Great Khan. He united us Mongols so that we would no longer be bullied by the Han and Jurchen people." Her affection for him was evident in her words.
The man said excitedly, "I'll go and present this bowl of wine to him right away, and also convey my greetings to the guest."
He went out to fetch the horse, and the woman poured the wine from her bowl into the glass as well, then handed it back to me, saying, "We really can't accept this."
I pretended to be angry and said, "If you don't accept it, I won't eat your food."
As the man went to fetch the horse, I asked the woman, "Is Temujin, the Great Khan, far from here?"