The blue sky, clear lakes, verdant grasslands, galloping horses, and white flocks of sheep. The great grasslands are indeed heaven.
Sitting in the car, the clouds are drifting, birds are flying, and there are hills full of wild apricots in the distance, scattered Mongolian yurts, along with wisps of smoke rising from them, herds of sheep returning from pasture, and the sunset painting the clouds red on the horizon. All these showcase the charm and magic of the grasslands.
"The east produces statesmen, the west produces warriors, and Jiangnan produces scholars."
Strong men riding sturdy horses galloping freely across the vast grasslands. Their skilled posture and swift speed truly reflect the nomadic people who conquered the land on horseback.
Departing at five in the morning, two trucks sped along the way, finally reaching the pastoral area at sunset.
At the moment, no one felt the fatigue of the journey, for the scenery along the way was overwhelmingly beautiful.
Unlike the surging sea and the gentle water villages of Jiangnan, the grasslands have conquered people worldwide with their unique charm.
Upon reaching the pastoral district, Zhao Dashan led Zhang Guoqing and others to a yurt where they found their good friend Zamu.
The warm and hospitable middle-aged Zamu grandly received the group with local customs and etiquette. Fortunately, Zhao Dashan had specially guided everyone’s manners beforehand, so they didn’t end up being impolite.
The two trucks continued on towards the military horse farm under Zhao Dashan’s lead, while Zamu’s house welcomed many people from the Mongolian robe clan coming to watch the excitement.
Upon hearing that Zhang Guoqing and others were bringing their children to enjoy the grasslands, locals came to see them. The friendly and proud elders enthusiastically introduced nearby attractions and shared legends about their tribe.
Zamu’s little daughter was beside them translating, though in her excitement she sometimes mixed in some Mongolian. Her cheerful and open laughter broke the ice for everyone.
The dinner feast consisted of hand-grabbed mutton, lamb rib soup, pies, and horse milk wine. Such a sumptuous meal made everyone reluctant to leave.
As night fell, they looked up at the stars in the sky, a gentle breeze brushing past, ears filled with local ballads, and in the distance, the sounds of sheep, cattle, and horses.
The scenery in the pastoral district was beautiful tonight, and the people were even more beautiful. It was so stunning that it broadened one’s heart and made them forget the mundane world.
The next morning, everyone rose early, had breakfast, and followed Uncle Zamu, herding a group of cattle and sheep to a nearby lake.
Along the way, from Uncle Zamu’s mouth, they learned that they had arrived a few days late; the grand horse racing festival on the grasslands had just ended, much to their regret.
Zhang Guoqing, holding his son, listened about the horse racing being a material exchange fair, where herders pitched dense tents to exchange their produced meats, butter, lake salt, cordyceps, and fritillary, buying the necessary goods for a whole year’s production and living needs.
He was quite surprised, never expecting there to be a market here.
After Uncle Zamu’s explanation, everyone understood that aside from the material exchange during the horse races, for other times, they had to go to the supply and marketing cooperative in town for purchases.
Zhou Jiao winked at Zhang Guoqing. Now that management is lax, it’s a good opportunity to check out the town.
Before the couple could agree, Zhang Yuntao and the others were already eagerly asking Uncle Zamu, planning to take homemade goods back.
Zhang Guoqing, listening to their conversation, set Ping’an down to pick wildflowers. He picked a bouquet himself and wove it into a wreath to place on Zhou Jiao’s head, then took out a camera from his backpack to capture the smiles of his wife and son.


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