Tag: Grassland Veterinarian

this chapter is brought to you by mio
as translator, proofreader and editor!

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With her arm now inserted into the birth canal beneath the cow’s rectum, Lin Xuejun felt an immense pressure bearing down heavily on her limb. She paused slightly, took a deep breath, and leaned sideways as she gradually probed deeper into the cow’s uterus.

The warm, moist birth canal actually helped dispel some of the chill, and the goosebumps on her right arm from the cold faded away.

A coat was draped over her shoulders, and to prevent it from slipping, someone had tied the sleeves around her neck in a knot.

Lin Xuejun had no time to see who was looking after her; she had already made contact with the calf, still warm, soft, and elastic.

“It’s alive!” she exclaimed in delight, lifting her head.

“The calf?” The brigade leader stepped forward eagerly, not even noticing when his foot landed in cow dung.

“Yes.” Lin Xuejun nodded before continuing to feel for the calf’s position in the uterus.

“It’s alive! She says the calf’s alive.” The brigade leader quickly turned to relay the news in Mongolian to the owner, Ulzii, then spun back to the other herders. “She says the calf’s alive.”

Everyone’s eyes widened in astonishment, fixed intently on Lin Xuejun.

Ulzii, the owner, clenched the rope tightly, forgetting to even stroke the cow’s head. His mouth hung open as he leaned forward, muscles tense, almost as nervous as if it were his own wife giving birth.

Lin Xuejun focused intently, her fingers moving slowly and carefully.

The long, slender shape seemed to be the calf’s leg, positioned upward. With the calf lying on its back, no wonder the birth was difficult. Normally, calves should be headfirst in a prone position, but this one was on its back… with even its head tucked in!

“Malpositioned. The calf is lying on its back with its head curled like this.” Lin Xuejun added to the brigade leader.

“Oh no—” The brigade leader clenched his fists, shoulders hunching involuntarily as he frowned.

The herders who didn’t understand Mandarin immediately grew restless, pressing for answers: 

“What’s wrong?”

“Brigade Leader, what did she say?”

“What happened? Is the calf alive or dead?”

Those who understood Mandarin hurried to translate, though some only half-understood, leading to garbled explanations.

The brigade leader raised a hand to quiet the crowd and shouted in Mongolian, “Stop yelling, it’s giving me a headache. The calf’s alive, but it’s lying like this.”

He stretched out his arms, mimicking a supine position, then added, “And its head’s tucked in.”

He tucked his head against his left shoulder, demonstrating the curled-up posture.

With the brigade leader’s animated explanation, the herders finally understood and began murmuring anxiously:

“Oh no!”

“What do we do now?”

“This is bad.”

“Can it still survive?”

“The cow’s suffering so much…”

“Quiet, all of you!” The brigade leader barked, and the nervous herders fell silent again, their tense faces alternating between the cow and Lin Xuejun’s expression.

pls do not share this anywhere or u will always stub ur toe when u walk past a door frame !! this translation has been stolen from mioscorner.com, pls only read there i’m begging u :kneels:

The owner’s wife was now barely able to stand, her heart pounding wildly.

Earlier, she had resigned herself to losing both the cow and the calf. Though heartbreaking, she had gradually come to accept it. Now, her hope had been rekindled, only to be met with news of the calf’s malposition. She couldn’t sit still any longer, feeling restless and uneasy.

Muttering prayers under her breath, she unconsciously clenched her fists and pressed them against her chest.

Lin Xuejun maintained a solemn expression under the crowd’s gaze, her arms twisting laboriously at times, reaching inward at others, then pulling outward slightly…

Mu Junqing’s palms were drenched in sweat as he gripped the cow’s tail, so nervous he barely dared to breathe. When his glasses fogged up, he carefully wiped them with one hand while shaking out his sleeve.

After struggling for quite some time, Lin Xuejun confirmed the calf had been maneuvered into a sideways position through her combined pulling and pushing, with its head properly extended. After checking that the umbilical cord and other aspects showed no issues, she turned to the brigade leader, “Have everyone step back ten paces to clear space.”

“Understood.” The brigade leader nodded and turned to carry out the order.

The herders shuffled backward in unison, counting steps as they retreated.

Next, Lin Xuejun calmly requested the brigade leader to bring three hemp ropes, selected several people to restrain the mother cow from thrashing, and most crucially of all, called for six or seven strong men.

Having witnessed Lin Xuejun unhesitatingly thrust her hand into the cow’s rear, though no one understood why she needed so many helpers, the thought that she might actually save the mother cow spurred them. Without needing the brigade leader’s instruction or the owner Ulzii’s plea, volunteers eagerly stepped forward, each boasting about their strength and capability.

The herders’ enthusiasm grew so fervent that the preparatory phase gradually took on an almost electric atmosphere.

Every task proceeded in orderly fashion, as if they were all united in some grand undertaking.

With ropes and personnel in place, just as everyone prepared to tie down the mother cow, they watched in astonishment as Lin Xuejun actually began stuffing hemp ropes into the cow’s rear?!

After securing the first rope came the second, then the third.

“What’s she doing?”

“You’re asking me? How should I know?”

“Shh—” The equally anxious brigade leader silenced them with a sharp glance.

The setup was complete. Three ropes now tethered the calf’s two front legs and head.

Lin Xuejun suddenly realized the entire crowd was holding its breath while watching her.

Having only interned at large cattle farms and pet hospitals before, this was her first time working under such intense, spotlight-like gazes.

A surge of warmth rose within her. So this was what it felt like to be the focus of attention, to carry others’ hopes.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she met the gaze of Ulzii, the weathered old owner gripping the cow’s horns. His sun-beaten face was a map of wrinkles, his brow furrowed with worry yet his eyes still shone with desperate hope.

Swallowing hard and stealthily taking a deep breath, she distributed the three ropes to three separate groups, “When I say pull, pull hard, understand?”

“Got it.”

“No problem.”

“Absolutely.”

Receiving their affirmations, Lin Xuejun nodded, then turned to remind those restraining the cow to maintain control.

All stood at the ready.

With both hands positioned to protect the cow’s birth canal, she began directing, “These two ropes, pull at three-tenths of your strength first.”

The strongmen exchanged uncertain glances, but when Lin Xuejun raised her voice for the second command, they pulled in unison like tug-of-war competitors.

“Use eight-tenths of your strength now, harder!”

“You—don’t pull yet. Your rope’s on the head. Wait.”

“You two, pull again! Harder!”

Lin Xuejun commanded with precision.

The mother cow strained against the tension, lowing and thrashing side to side in attempted escape.

The person holding the cow quickly grabbed its horns and pulled, trying to keep it from getting loose.

Lin Xuejun also pushed hard against the cow’s hindquarters, helping it exert force forward.

The cow swayed unsteadily from the pulling, and Lin Xuejun was jostled back and forth by the cow’s rump.

Mu Junqing, worried that Lin Xuejun might be knocked over by the cow, quickly used his body to brace against the hindquarters, helping her push the cow forward.

“Alright, alright, stop pulling for now!” Lin Xuejun suddenly shouted. Everyone froze in alarm, exchanging wide-eyed glances.

Lin Xuejun reached into the cow’s birth canal, twisted her hand a few times, then swung her left arm back and pulled again.

The strong men holding the calf’s legs immediately redoubled their efforts.

The next moment, the brigade leader, who had been helping while maintaining order, suddenly yelled, “Ah! Ahhh!”

He was so excited and nervous he nearly lost the ability to speak.

The others saw it too—

The calf’s hoof had emerged!

“Ahhh! It’s coming out, it’s coming out!” someone in the crowd suddenly shrieked.

A pink nose appeared first, followed by a white mouth. In the blink of an eye, the calf’s entire head soon slipped out.

Seeing this, the man with the yuden hat stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and with his left hand that was wearing a cotton glove, supported the calf while his right hand gripped its front leg. He gave a firm tug, and just like that, the calf plopped onto the hay with a thud.

Cheers erupted all around. Everyone instinctively surged forward, but the brigade leader quickly pushed them back, signaling them not to crowd.

The herders rubbed their hands together, beaming with joy, their faces crinkling with smiles.

The elderly owner, Ulzii, kept exclaiming, “Oh! Oh!” as he tried to rush over to see the calf. Suddenly remembering something, he turned to untie the ropes around the cow’s head.

Freed at last, the cow turned to look at her newborn. Though it was her first time giving birth, she instinctively began licking the calf’s fur clean.

The calf shook its head and kicked its legs from time to time, looking as if it might stand up and run around at any moment, absolutely adorable with its lively and spirited demeanour.

It was born… 

It was born!

Only then did many people snap out of their daze, one after another voicing nearly identical exclamations:

“You can actually deliver a calf like this?”

“What a load of crap…”

“I’ve never seen a calf born this way before!”

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any typos or broken links, pls comment or dm me on discord!
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this chapter is brought to you by mio
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The sudden appearance of a stranger immediately drew everyone’s attention. The brigade leader froze for a moment before furrowing his brows.

“Why did you come out too?” He glared at her, then turned to the other educated youths gathered around watching the commotion. Spotting Yi Xiuyu, he scolded her, “I told you to take good care of the sick girl. How could you let her out?”

As if Lin Xuejun were some uncontrollable, bizarre creature.

Only then did Yi Xiuyu notice Lin Xuejun was also there. Her face paled in shock, and she blinked with a guilty expression, as if she had made a mistake. She rushed forward, let out an “ah” that didn’t lead to anything coherent, then suddenly turned her back and crouched down, ready to carry Lin Xuejun home on her back.

Lin Xuejun glanced down at Yi Xiuyu’s narrow shoulders, still visible despite the layers of thick clothing. Her lips twitched slightly before she reached out to pull Yi Xiuyu up and explained to the brigade leader, “Don’t blame Comrade Yi Xiuyu. I sneaked out on my own.”

“This is pure recklessness! A fever could kill you.” The brigade leader scanned the crowd, muttering, “I’ll find someone strong to carry you back.”

“No need.” Seeing the brigade leader about to point someone out, Lin Xuejun grabbed his wrist in a panic. When he turned to her in surprise, she sighed and pointed at the swaying cow that could barely stand.

“Never mind me, saving the cow is more urgent. I’ve read some veterinary books back in Beijing. Let me try.”

“You—” The brigade leader seemed about to say something.

But Lin Xuejun swiftly cut him off, turning to Wang Ying with hurried urgency. “Do you have rubber gloves and oil?”

“Huh? There are rubber gloves, but what for—” Wang Ying was baffled.

“Let me borrow them.” Lin Xuejun nodded at her and held out her hand.

As if compelled, Wang Ying opened her medical bag and pulled out the gloves, only to suddenly realize something was off. She quickly turned to the brigade leader for confirmation with her eyes.

But Lin Xuejun had already handed her small quilt to Yi Xiuyu and taken the gloves from Wang Ying’s hand.

“You really know how to deliver a calf?” The brigade leader asked uncertainly.

The other herders also watched nervously, their faces tense with worry.

Lin Xuejun walked to the cow’s side, first stroking its head so it could see her and lower its guard. Then she tugged at the rope held by the old herdsman to confirm the cow was securely tied and wouldn’t suddenly lash out during treatment. Only then did she circle the cow, examining it from all angles.

“After a cow’s water breaks, the calf should come within half an hour. This one’s been struggling to calve for over three hours now, right?

“The cow’s been restless, lying down and getting up repeatedly for most of the day. Half an hour ago, there was blood, and now it can barely stand, right?

“Were there any other unusual signs before labor?”

Though the brigade leader wasn’t a veterinarian, he had once observed the middle-aged veterinarian from the commune headquarters at work. That vet had also first ensured the cow was securely tied to prevent it from thrashing, then proceeded to touch and probe its body. Back then, he had asked what the vet was doing, and the vet had called it “percussion”, a method for diagnosis.

The moment he observed Lin Xuejun’s technique, he felt there might be hope. Watching her frown and concentrate as she stood beside the cow, his confidence grew a few more notches. He first called a herdsman to fetch the brigade’s reserve veterinary medicines and tools, then instructed another to retrieve the late local veterinarian Bala’s remaining animal treatment supplies.

Only then did he turn to translate Lin Xuejun’s questions into Mongolian for the elderly livestock owner, Ulzii.

Though Lin Xuejun understood Ulzii’s Mongolian, considering her original identity was a Beijing high school student who’d never been to Inner Mongolia and couldn’t speak the language, she pretended not to understand them. As she moved behind the cow, she listened to the brigade leader’s translation.

“The way the girl’s dancing around the cow like that… I hope she doesn’t get kicked. One hit from that would be rough,” muttered the herdsman wearing the yuden hat, watching nervously as Lin Xuejun tapped here and there, listened carefully, and alternately stroked and patted the animal. This educated youth had just arrived and was still recovering from illness. The last thing they needed was for her to get trampled by a cow.

He’d been kicked by a cow before, but luckily it struck his thigh instead of his stomach, though he’d still nursed a limp for half a month. Given this girl’s slight frame, just one kick might take her out completely. With the mountains snowed in, getting her medical help would be nearly impossible. If they lost both cow and calf during this difficult birth, plus this young woman, wouldn’t that be a complete disaster?

“Is she another newly arrived educated youth?” the herdsmen began whispering among themselves.

“Don’t recognize her.”

“Think she’s the sickly one who had to be carried here when she arrived.”

“Look how thin her arms are, like bamboo sticks…”

pls do not share this anywhere or u will always stub ur toe when u walk past a door frame !! this translation has been stolen from mioscorner.com, pls only read there i’m begging u :kneels:

“Comrade Mu, could you hold the cow’s tail for me? Don’t let her whip me with it,” Lin Xuejun suddenly turned and said, pretending not to hear the murmurs.

Mu Junqing, who’d been intently observing Lin Xuejun’s actions and expressions, found himself stepping forward automatically at her request before his brain even processed the command, taking hold of the offered tail.

“Make sure you stay close to the cow’s side the whole time and don’t let her kick you,” Lin Xuejun instructed.

“…Right.” Mu Junqing looked at the tail now in his hand, then at the cow’s rear end nearly at his eye level. He shuffled nervously, momentarily speechless.

The brigade leader was about to assert his authority and tell the herdsmen to quiet down when Lin Xuejun called out clearly, “Brigade leader, have someone spread some dry hay beneath the cow’s hindquarters.”

The brigade leader swallowed his unspoken order, blinking as Lin Xuejun turned back to the cow. Resigned, he raised his arm and instructed the woman managing the cattle shed to prepare the hay.

A child standing beside the woman darted off like a rabbit before his mother could move, returning with an armful of hay.

Seeing the braided Mongolian child watching her expectantly with the hay, Lin Xuejun stepped back and pointed beneath the cow. Body language being universal, the child immediately understood, carefully spreading the hay beneath the cow’s rear.

Lin Xuejun nodded in approval. This way, any waste or amniotic fluid wouldn’t splash everywhere, and the newborn calf wouldn’t land directly on muddy ground.

Squatting down, Lin Xuejun picked out the iodine from the veterinary medicines delivered by the brigade leader. She then took off her overcoat and padded jacket, handing them to Yi Xiuyu before rolling up her sleeves to her upper arms. After putting on rubber gloves, she applied iodine to her forearm and the outside of the gloves.

Wang Ying watched Lin Xuejun’s confident and swift movements with nervous anticipation, her gaze fixed intently on the rubber gloves the other woman wore.

Those were the gloves she had received as a reward for being the fastest learner in her health class. It was the only pair in the whole class.

She treasured them dearly, keeping them wrapped in cloth inside her medicine box, protecting them from wind and moisture like a prized possession…

As Wang Ying was silently lamenting, her eyes suddenly widened in shock. The next moment, her pupils constricted and trembled, nearly rolling out of her eye sockets—

Aaaaaah!

Lin Xuejun had actually stuck her hand in! Wearing her gloves! She stuck it in!

The other herders gathered around were just as stunned as Wang Ying.

After all, this was a rare sight, and many had never seen anything like it before!

For a clean, delicate-looking girl like Lin Xuejun to perform such an act so decisively was beyond their imagination!

—With her left hand resting on the cow’s hip, Lin Xuejun suddenly, and without hesitation or a change in expression, thrust her right hand and forearm straight into the cow’s rear!

[Author’s Note]

(Next chapter: Birth)

[Side Story]

This was like the most unassuming soldier in the army suddenly charging out of formation during a standoff, catching everyone off guard. Right under the watchful eyes of generals and commanders, they galloped straight to the enemy’s front line, drew their bow, and aimed an arrow at the enemy leader…

It was basically like getting stabbed in the backside with a little knife, truly an eye-opening experience!

…

P.S. The bovine birth canal entrance is located directly below the vulva.

P.S. Clinical examination methods:

1. Inquiry; 2. Inspection; 3. Palpation; 4. Percussion.

P.S. Medical rubber gloves first appeared in 1890. Rubber surgical gloves began to be used in China in the 1950s. In the 1970s, China started importing rubber glove production technology to gradually achieve domestic production. In August 1951, China and the Soviet Union collaborated to plant 12 million acres of rubber trees across Guangdong, Guangxi, Yunnan, Sichuan, and Guizhou provinces to provide raw materials for the rubber industry.

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any typos or broken links, pls comment or dm me on discord!
support mio on kofi! ◡̈

this chapter is brought to you by mio
as translator, proofreader and editor!

---

The tens of thousands of livestock in the Seventh Production Brigade of the Husehe Commune were divided into several herds, each assigned to different herding households for care.

Larger families with more members were given bigger herds, sometimes numbering thousands of cattle, horses, sheep, camels, and donkeys.

Smaller households received smaller herds, though usually still consisting of several hundred animals.

The herder’s livestock pen before them covered a vast area, enclosed by movable fences and thick felt windbreaks. Inside, hundreds of sheep huddled together for warmth, along with ten cows, twelve mares, two camels, and five small donkeys.

One of the cows was tied to a sturdy wooden post in a separate section, surrounded by a dozen onlookers.

Outside, the biting wind carried in snow, but the gathered crowd exhaled so much warm breath that the air became thick with swirling mist.

Lin Xuejun squeezed through the crowd and saw the cow, emaciated after enduring the harsh winter, its skin stretched taut over its protruding bones like a small tent. Its thin legs trembled unsteadily, kicking occasionally, as if struggling to support its heavily swollen belly.

“Moo—moo—” The cow bellowed in restless pain, tossing its head and striking the wooden post with its horns, shaking loose snow from the roof above.

“What can we do? The roads are blocked by snow. Even if we tried to fetch a veterinarian from the station tonight, it’s impossible. Anyone who goes might freeze to death on the way,” one herder fretted, stomping his feet in sync with the cow, his gaze darting between the animal and the snow outside as if by staring hard enough, he’d be able to will the storm to stop.

The station was the commune’s headquarters, but in this vast grassland, it was nearly a hundred kilometers away.

“Even if the snow stopped now, the roads would still be buried. Even the fastest horse couldn’t make it in time!” a woman in a brown deel muttered repeatedly in Mongolian. “It’s too late, too late.”

“Ever since Old Man Bala passed away, whenever our livestock get sick, we have to go all the way to headquarters. By the time we get help, it’s always too late! So many good animals are wasted,” a local Han Chinese herder wearing a triangular sheepskin yuden¹ hat grumbled in a mix of Northeastern Mandarin and accented Mongolian, wiping sweat from his brow.

Even though the livestock were distributed among households for care, they still belonged to the brigade as collective property. Any losses would still affect everyone.

This winter, between starvation, freezing temperatures, and wolf attacks, nearly a quarter of the animals had perished. This cow, bred as early as August, was due to calve in late March, when the cold snap was at its worst. The calves were already hard to keep alive, and if the cow died in labor… The herders had raised her for over a year, painstakingly waiting for her to calve and produce milk.

Not to mention, after raising her for so long, they’d already grown attached—losing her would be heartbreaking.

“It’s a shame Old Man Bala didn’t train anyone to take over his folk veterinary skills,” a herder in a Lei Feng hat sighed.

Though not a certified vet like the bespectacled ones at the commune headquarters, Bala had been an experienced herder with practical knowledge of common livestock ailments. He’d been the go-to folk veterinarian for the grassland’s herders, that was, until he succumbed to the winter cold.

“What’s the point of bringing that up now?”

The gaunt, dark-skinned herder standing by the cow’s head wore a pained expression, ignoring the anxious chatter of the surrounding crowd. He simply stroked the slightly curled white fur between the cow’s eyes each time she panted heavily.

The tall, lanky brigade leader was almost hopping with impatience. While rubbing the cow’s belly, he craned his neck to peer outside and urged, “Where’s the medic? Still not here? They should’ve carried her here by now if needed! Why isn’t she here yet?”

“She’s coming! Coming—” A herder at the outer edge shouted joyfully upon seeing the bobbing flashlight beam approaching, as if spotting a savior.

Lin Xuejun had grown up in Hulunbuir. Though she couldn’t write or read Mongolian script, she had no trouble understanding or speaking the language.

By listening from the sidelines, she grasped the situation better than the clueless educated youths who kept peering around in confusion.

Following everyone’s gaze toward the cattle shed entrance, Lin Xuejun recognized the bear-like robust figure of the Mongolian women’s director. This was the same strong woman who had carried her to see the medic when the educated youths first arrived.

Escorted by the women’s director was medic Wang Ying, the young human doctor who had treated Lin Xuejun with injections.

In his desperation, the brigade leader had actually summoned a human doctor to treat it.

Though both humans and cattle are mammals, their anatomy, diseases, and treatments differ vastly. The brigade leader must have been truly desperate.

Lin Xuejun watched as Wang Ying walked through the path cleared by herders to approach the cow. Frowning, the medic explained her limitations to the brigade leader, “Brigade leader, how can humans and cows be the same? Even if you ask me to treat her… I wouldn’t know how.”

Carrying her medical kit, she removed her gloves and pulled out a notebook, flipping to the page about human childbirth. She shook it helplessly at the brigade leader.

Lin Xuejun nodded unconsciously in silent agreement with Wang Ying.

Another glance at the cow’s condition showed that the amniotic fluid had broken, mixing with cow dung on the ground into a muddy mess. The cow’s tail was raised, muscles trembling with periodic straining, yet no calf’s head appeared.

Blood had already begun dripping unnoticed into the muck.

Lin Xuejun’s foot shifted forward slightly, then hesitated.

To the herders, she probably seemed like just another naive and inexperienced girl. Would they trust her enough to let her intervene?

“Brigade Leader, I can’t even feel the calf moving,” Wang Ying said helplessly, patting the cow’s belly before randomly pressing her stethoscope against it.

Before the brigade leader could respond, a herder in the crowd sighed loudly and exclaimed, “Haven’t we seen this before? The calf’s already dead inside. When it stiffens and gets stuck, no matter how hard the cow pushes, it won’t come out. Ends up killing them both.”

“Is that what’s happening?” The brigade leader turned pale as he asked the medical worker.

“I… I dunno either,” Wang Ying blurted out in her thick rural dialect, her carefully learned standard Mandarin forgotten in the emergency.

Lin Xuejun took another step forward.

Her tense expression suddenly caught sight of the other educated youths nearby.

In this environment where everything, including medicines and medical equipment, were scarce, her wisest course of action as a newcomer would be to keep a low profile, observing more and speaking less.

Even if the herders let her try, what if she failed?

The policy of sending educated youth to the countryside had just begun, and the eight of them were the first batch of educated youth welcomed by the Seventh Production Brigade. Each of them was eager to set a good example and leave a positive impression on the locals.

But these past few days, as she lay on the kang recovering from illness, Lin Xuejun heard a different story from the other educated youth—

The brigade leader and the herdsmen regarded the city kids as oddities, thinking they couldn’t carry water or shoulder loads and knew nothing about life on the grasslands. Their damp hands dared to touch the iron shovel, only to have their skin peel off, leaving them bloody and grimacing in pain, unable to do any heavy work afterward… Seeing how delicate they were, the herdsmen didn’t bother wasting words on them, barely teaching them how to work and handling them with indifference.

The educated youth often felt isolated, and it left a bitter taste in their hearts.

Though the brigade leader kept reassuring them not to rush and to be patient, the tasks he assigned—feeding the cows, shoveling hay, cleaning the barn—no matter how hard they toiled all day, often only earned them disappointed sighs from the herdsmen, who complained they didn’t do well enough.

Fitting in and gaining the herdsmen’s acceptance seemed like an impossible challenge.

The passionate young men and women, weighed down by the herdsmen’s looks of disappointment and disapproval, felt both resentment and frustration. Some even secretly wiped away tears in their distress.

In such a situation, if she stepped forward and failed, embarrassing the group of educated youth, wouldn’t it only make their circumstances worse?

Thinking this, Lin Xuejun silently withdrew the foot she had been about to step forward with.

pls do not share this anywhere or u will always stub ur toe when u walk past a door frame !! this translation has been stolen from mioscorner.com, pls only read there i’m begging u :kneels:

At that moment, the butcher, who had been standing on the outskirts of the crowd, saw his chance and pushed his way through, declaring loudly, “Brigade Leader, if the calf is stuck inside, and the cow keeps straining, her intestines will be punctured, blood will spill everywhere, and it’ll be a mess to deal with. Why not spare her the suffering? Let me take her to the slaughterhouse and give her a quick end.”

The old herdsman, who had been holding the cow’s rope while soothing and encouraging her, suddenly looked up. Gripping the rope tightly, he shouted anxiously at the brigade leader, “Let her try again, let her push harder, just give her another chance!”

With that, he walked to the cow’s side and slapped her rump.

The cow, as if sensing imminent danger, turned her head, her large eyes fixed on the old herdsman. She snorted and let out low, mournful moans.

Restlessly stomping her hooves, her legs wobbled as if she might collapse at any moment. But when her eyes met the old man’s, she seemed to understand his concern and urgency. With another forceful snort and a loud moo, she stiffened her legs.

The next moment, more bloody fluid gushed from the vulva beneath her tail.

The old herdsman’s heart ached with worry. Despite the sub-zero temperatures in the barn, sweat beaded on his forehead, wiped away again and again but never fully gone.

The murmurs among the herdsmen in the barn fell silent, replaced only by sighs. The atmosphere grew heavy.

Mu Junqing, who had been watching the scene, quietly pulled aside the women’s director, who spoke both Mongolian and Chinese, and asked for the full story.

“…At this rate, well… it’s only a matter of time.”

The other educated youth listening nearby also wore sorrowful expressions. The sensitive Yi Xiuyu, predictably, began wiping her tears, murmuring, “The cow is so pitiful, and the old man too. If only I knew how to treat her…”

Just like the other herders, she felt both concern and helplessness.

Lin Xuejun bit her lower lip until it turned pale. As Yi Xiuyu’s voice reached her ears, her gaze remained fixed on the frantic elderly livestock owner pacing in circles…

Finally, she let out a long sigh and stepped forward, pushing through the crowd.

Wrapped in a blanket, she strode between the medic Wang Ying and the mother cow, then declared clearly to the brigade leader, “Brigade Leader, judging by the mother cow’s bleeding and overall condition, there’s a good chance the calf is still alive.”

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any typos or broken links, pls comment or dm me on discord!
support mio on kofi! ◡̈

1. The triangular hat worn by the Buryat Mongols. Buryat: A Mongolian tribe living on the Hulunbuir grasslands. ↩︎

this chapter is brought to you by mio
as translator, proofreader and editor!

---

Probably because she’d had a bit to drink at the Beipiao¹ alumni gathering, Lin Xuejun ran a slight fever that night. She drank some hot water and went straight to sleep, only to open her eyes and find herself in the Seventh Production Team of Husehe Commune, on the northern frontier in the 1960s.

The original body she had transmigrated into was also named Lin Xuejun, a sixteen-year-old girl.

While the other educated youths had gone out to work at dawn, she remained on the kang², battling a severe cold.

Lin Xuejun had been bedridden for three days. Wang Ying, the young medic treating her, had originally been a milkmaid in the brigade. After a two-week “Barefoot Doctor³” training session at the commune during winter, she had taken up the role of medic.

The amount of times she had given real injections to people was probably fewer than the fingers on one of her hands.

Every time Wang Ying administered a shot to Lin Xuejun, she would slap the back of her hand until it turned red and swollen, lean forward, take several deep breaths while staring at the bulging veins, and then suddenly plunge the needle in…

Each time Lin Xuejun saw Wang Ying’s expression of heroic sacrifice while giving the injection, she wished she could take over and do it herself. Unfortunately, her hands were too weak from illness, leaving her no choice but to endure the ordeal.

Supplies here were extremely scarce. Even when sick, there were no nutritious meals or fruits to help her recover—not even fresh vegetables.

These past few days of illness, enduring injections, eating coarse grains and potatoes, and having to crawl to the neighboring shed to use a slop bucket as a toilet… it was truly suffering beyond words.

Outside the tiled house, the howling blizzard and the creaking of snow-laden firewood piles were the best lullabies. Today, Lin Xuejun felt much better, sleeping deeply and waking up refreshed. But the world outside the blankets was too cold, and she still didn’t want to leave the kang.

For extra warmth, she pulled the military overcoat draped nearby over her thick quilt, feeling as if a mountain were pressing down on her.

Due to the relentless snowstorm, the sky remained gloomy, even during the day.

She drifted in and out of sleep, completely losing track of time.

pls do not share this anywhere or u will always stub ur toe when u walk past a door frame !! this translation has been stolen from mioscorner.com, pls only read there i’m begging u :kneels:

It wasn’t until the rhythmic crunching of footsteps approached that Lin Xuejun realized it was probably around five or six in the evening, meaning the other educated youths were now returning from work through the snow.

The young people stomped and brushed off snow outside the door, making a flurry of noises before finally turning the handle.

The old, thick wooden door was pulled open, and the wind slammed it against the wall with a loud bang. The first youth rushed inside, then turned to urge the last person to close the door quickly.

The eldest male educated youth, Mu Junqing, immediately went to light the castor oil lamp on the table as soon as he entered. Ignoring the frost covering his glasses, he then bent over the kang to add firewood. Unfazed by the ashes flying into his hair and face, he braced his hands on his knees, grabbed the kettle, went outside to scoop the cleanest surface snow into it, and hurried back to place it on the stove to boil.

After finishing all this, Mu Junqing finally exhaled in relief. He took off his military overcoat and hung it on the rack by the door, then pulled the rack to block the draft seeping through the door crack.

“How do you feel, Lin Xuejun?” Mu Junqing rubbed his hands and turned to look at Lin Xuejun, who was being helped to sit on the edge of the kang by the youngest educated youth, Yi Xiuyu.

Since the educated youths had arrived just as the blizzard hit, Husehe Commune had only managed to prepare one large tiled house for them at the Seventh Production Team. Until the storm passed, they would have to make do by placing a bench in the middle of the kang and draping a cloth curtain to separate the men and women.

“I feel much better.” Lin Xuejun’s muscles still ached a little as she got up with Yi Xiuyu’s help.

She pulled on a thick cotton-padded jacket, draped a military overcoat over her shoulders, and stepped into round, fluffy felt boots.

Yi Xiuyu supported Lin Xuejun to the makeshift outhouse converted from the neighboring storage room. After closing the door, she turned away with her lips pursed in displeasure.

“I came here with the grand ambition of building the motherland’s frontier, but every day I feed cows, clean their pens, shovel manure, then come back to wait on someone at night—just like some old society maid.”

What’s that phrase they use to describe that in the local Northeastern Han dialect again?

A total sucker⁴!

Among the eight educated youths who’d arrived, everyone except Lin Xuejun had already worked together for several days and gotten somewhat acquainted. The only one they didn’t know was the sickly “Little Sister Lin” who stayed in bed all day.

The only thing they knew about Lin Xuejun was that she’d started writing letters home begging to return to Beijing even before reaching the commune.

She wrote those letters diligently, using up plenty of ink and quite a few stamps too. Even now, there was a half-finished plea for help in her drawer, interrupted by her fever.

When Yi Xiuyu had tidied Lin Xuejun’s things, she’d seen the words “HELP ME” scrawled across one letter, the enormous characters taking up half the page.

Everyone assumed Lin Xuejun wouldn’t last long here. Once she recovered enough to travel, she’d probably just leave.

It’d be better if she left. With her delicate and sickly constitution, she couldn’t contribute to building the motherland, and was just holding back the other educated youths instead.

They wanted to quickly integrate into the production team and make a good impression on the herdsmen. The last thing they needed was people seeing Lin Xuejun and thinking all educated youths were as weak-willed as her.

The others were about to chime in with Yi Xiuyu when the eldest, Mu Junqing, spoke first, “Comrade Yi, toward the enemy you must be as cold and merciless as winter, but what about toward your comrades?”

“…” Yi Xiuyu’s mouth twisted into a pout before she answered reluctantly, “As warm as spring.”

Mu Junqing nodded, his unspoken “keep it up” message delivered. He smoothed his unruly mop of natural curls and went back to moving stools.

With Mu Junqing having set the tone, even those who had issues with Comrade Lin Xuejun’s attitude couldn’t very well continue. They could only shrug in response to Yi Xiuyu or offer conciliatory smiles.

Yi Xiuyu sighed. When Lin Xuejun finished in the outhouse, she still went over to support her arm toward the dining table.

“I need to wash my hands.” Lin Xuejun turned toward the sink, thanking Yi Xiuyu, “It’s alright, I can walk by myself.”

“Really? Don’t want you falling again.” Yi Xiuyu released her arm uncertainly, watching as Lin Xuejun, though unsteady, made it safely to the sink. Only then did she clap her hands and take a seat at the table.

Glancing back occasionally at Lin Xuejun washing up, Yi Xiuyu pursed her lips again.

Lin Xuejun dried her hands and sat down to a dinner that was identical to yesterday’s and the day before—potatoes stewed with frozen flat beans containing not a trace of oil, paired with a bowl of thin congee and a steamed bun.

Even if she only had this combination for one meal, it would still feel lacking in oil, soy sauce, MSG, and braised pork, let alone having it as a daily diet.

Her stomach growled eagerly, but her mind still resisted slightly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lin Xuejun glanced at Yi Xiuyu, who had joined the team from Cixi during the Cultural Revolution. The girl was meticulously arranging potatoes and green beans around the edge of her congee bowl before adding a spoonful of watery vegetable broth. After stirring it all together, she began eating with intense focus.

Yi Xiuyu’s concentration wasn’t just in her expression and movements—even her eating rhythm was deliberate. Two mouthfuls of porridge, one bite of vegetables, two bites of steamed bread. Her pace never faltered, as solemn and devout as if she were performing a religious rite.

Rumor had it Yi Xiuyu was only fifteen years old, just graduated from junior high. Unable to find work in her southern city and with her family struggling to put food on the table, she shouldered her belongings and traveled from the warm south to the coldest region of the country when she heard educated youth volunteering for borderland work earned twenty yuan a month with guaranteed meals.

Perhaps accustomed to hardship, or maybe just famished from the day’s labor, Yi Xiuyu ate with visible enjoyment, as if savoring gourmet delicacies.

Lin Xuejun tasted the bitterness in her mouth and finally picked up her bowl.

Noticing the usually appetite-less Lin Xuejun—likely due to illness—finally taking up her chopsticks, Mu Junqing smiled. “Eat up, eat up. A full stomach keeps homesickness away.”

His words nearly broke the dam holding back Lin Xuejun’s tears. She missed home terribly. She missed the latex mattress and pillows, down comforters, heated floors and air conditioning, Beijing’s boiled tripe, roast duck, the thinly rolled lamb, beef slices, and crispy tripe bubbling in a copper hotpot… 

Wiping her eyes, she found no tears. Even crying required salt reserves, and her tasteless mouth clearly lacked the elements to synthesize tears.

After the meal, Lin Xuejun offered to wash dishes. Many novels described this era as not only harsh and exhausting but also full of terrible people. In this high-obligation, mutual-surveillance era of collectivism, it seemed wise to stay diligent.

But Yi Xiuyu snatched the bowls away. “This water’s ice-cold. If you touch it, you’ll just get sicker. I don’t want to nurse you for extra days.” She’d been instructed by the production team leader to take good care of Lin Xuejun.

“Oh.” Lin Xuejun awkwardly withdrew her hand.

Seeing her somewhat deflated, Yi Xiuyu hesitated before muttering, “Not that I mind, just… get better soon, okay?” then hurried off with the dishes.

Lin Xuejun touched her face, scanning for lighter chores. Mu Junqing was sterilizing a needle over candlelight to pop his blisters from heavy labor. This era was probably rather conservative, so grabbing a young man’s hand to massage it seemed completely inappropriate.

As she hesitated, Meng Tianxia, the oldest among the four female educated youths, pulled up a stool unceremoniously, took Mu Junqing’s hand, and commandeered the needle. “Comrade Mu, let me help,” she said matter-of-factly.

“…” Lin Xuejun blinked. Apparently, her understanding of male-female interactions in this era still needed adjustment.

Yi Xiuyu finished washing with efficient movements and, finding Lin Xuejun still standing idle, brought over warm water and medicine left by the medic. Holding both out, she ordered, “Take your medicine.”

“Alright.” Lin Xuejun snapped out of her thoughts and reached for the cup and medicine, her hand brushing against Yi Xiuyu’s. The hands that had just finished washing dishes were still damp and icy cold. Clearly, the dishwater was indeed as freezing as Yi Xiuyu had described.

She sat by the kang and swallowed the medicine promptly under Yi Xiuyu’s watchful eye.

“That’s more like it.” Yi Xiuyu nodded approvingly at her compliance before taking the cup back and turning to wipe the frost that had formed on the window from the indoor warmth.

Lin Xuejun wanted to call Yi Xiuyu over to warm her hands by the bed, but the girl’s constant bustling back and forth left no opening for her to speak.

A male educated youth stood by the stove rubbing his hands, scooping out ashes to scatter at the doorway for insulation against the cold and damp. As he returned to feed more firewood into the stove, he eyed the small pile beside it—

“Not enough firewood. The kang won’t stay warm, and the room’s getting colder.” He sighed, planting his hands on his hips with determination. “We came at the wrong time this year. Next winter, I’ll stack firewood all along the courtyard walls beforehand. That’ll heat the place up properly.”

“I’ve seen herders collect dried sheep and cow dung to burn instead of chopping wood or gathering firewood everywhere. We should look into that. Ouch—” Mu Junqing, who habitually gestured while speaking, forgot his hand was still in Meng Tianxia’s grip. A slight movement earned him a sharp pinch of reprimand, making him suck in a pained breath.

As they commiserated about their current state of hunger and cold, a sudden clamor erupted outside.

“What’s happening?” Yi Xiuyu, who was scraping at the ice on the window with the small shovel given by the production team leader, pressed her face closer to peer out.

Within moments, the noise grew louder, drowning out even the wind. Urgent shouts from men and women intertwined, as if many were scrambling in panic.

Unease spread among the educated youths. They threw on their military coats and crowded by the windows to look.

Outside, oil lamps swung wildly in the hands of running figures, dancing like fireflies in the night.

As lamp after lamp floated past, Mu Junqing couldn’t stay put any longer. He grabbed his sheepskin coat by the door, wrapped himself up, and pushed outside. “I’ll go see.”

“Me too.” Others followed suit, retrieving their own coats.

Lin Xuejun, having not yet joined labor assignments, hadn’t received a sheepskin coat from the production team leader. She grabbed a small quilt from the bed, wrapped it around herself, and trailed behind them.

The instant she stepped out, the wind and snow lashed her face, shocking her foggy mind into crystal clear clarity.

Though snow blanketed the sky, the air was pristine. In the distance, the dark serpentine ridges of the Greater Khingan Mountains—the watershed between the Inner Mongolian Plateau and the Northeast China Plain, a vital ecological barrier and national forest conservation area—loomed in the east.

To the west stretched an endless blue snowfield—the Hulunbuir Grassland, one of the world’s three most famous grasslands and the most beautiful of the motherland’s six most beautiful grasslands.

This was an untapped land brimming with “gold,” a treasure trove yet to be discovered.

She inhaled that familiar, indescribable cold unique to her homeland deeply, it was a sensation that couldn’t be found anywhere but in Hulunbuir.

Tightening her military coat collar and adjusting the quilt, Lin Xuejun gazed at the scene with deep familiarity. Born decades later on this very soil, these were sights she’d grown up seeing.

At this moment, Lin Xuejun didn’t feel as if she had traveled through time, but as if she had returned to her hometown.

“Fellow villager, what’s the matter?” Mu Junqing’s voice came from ahead, shouting against the wind.

“It’s been half an hour, the mother cow’s giving birth to a calf but can’t deliver it. What should we do—” The villager’s words gradually distorted in the howling wind.

Lin Xuejun paused briefly, then quickened her pace. Following the voices ahead and the direction guided by the oil lamp, she trudged through the thick snow with crunching footsteps, heading toward the makeshift cattle shed the herders had temporarily built with wool felt.

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any typos or broken links, pls comment or dm me on discord!
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1.  北漂同学会 → “Beipiao alumni gathering” (kept as a cultural term; refers to people who moved to Beijing—often to cities—for work/study) ↩︎
2. A Chinese kang is a traditional, 2,000-year-old heated brick or clay bed-stove system used in northern China’s rural areas to survive severe winters. It works by connecting a raised platform to a stove, directing smoke and hot air through interior tunnels to heat the bed for sleeping, cooking, and daily living. ↩︎
3. Barefoot doctors were community-based healthcare providers in rural China (1960s–1980s) trained in basic medicine, sanitation, and disease prevention, significantly improving rural health during the Cultural Revolution. They worked as farmers while treating local diseases, utilizing both traditional Chinese and Western techniques, and were crucial in elevating hygiene standards. ↩︎
4. 大冤种 is a slangy, humorous insult meaning someone who’s been taken advantage of or played for a fool ↩︎

this chapter is brought to you by mio
as translator, proofreader and editor!

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Summer in Beijing was unbearably hot. Sweat poured down in buckets, only to be chilled and dried by the laboring air conditioner. The machine wheezed and groaned like an old man struggling for breath, yet the private room remained stifling, offering no relief.

As Lin Xuejun stepped inside, the mingled scents of evaporating sweat from different bodies filled her nostrils with each breath.

“Dr. Lin is here!” The class monitor, seated inside, was the first to spot her and greeted her with a smile.

Hearing this, the old classmates gathered for the reunion burst into laughter.

“Xiao Gao, didn’t you just say your stomach was bothering you? Quick, let Dr. Lin take a look at you!”

“Go to hell!”

Lin Xuejun was a postgraduate student in animal husbandry and veterinary medicine at an agricultural university. Though her dream was to become a “real” doctor, she had followed her parents’ advice and chosen the noble path of veterinary medicine so she could help manage the family ranch.

Thus, the phrase, “Let Dr. Lin treat you” became an inevitable joke at every gathering.

At first, she would protest, insisting, “Veterinarians are doctors too!” or “Medicine is all interconnected!”

But now, she had given up trying to resist. Plopping down into an empty seat, she grinned and said, “Hey, no need to rush, everyone. I’ll treat you one by one.”

Her words drew another round of laughter, filling the room with a lively atmosphere.

Yet, after the hearty meal, a faint melancholy still lingered in Lin Xuejun’s heart. Should she have chosen human medicine after all?

As the gathering ended, the group trickled out of the restaurant, the old classmates drifting apart once more to walk their separate paths in the city.

Lin Xuejun stood by the roadside, waiting for her Didi ride. Gazing up, she took in the orange-tinted night sky under Beijing’s glowing lights.

There were no stars dotting the night sky. She tightened her jaw and exhaled a long sigh through her nose. If only she could go somewhere where veterinarians were more respected.

Suddenly, the wind around her grew louder. The bright lights seemed to dim, and the bustling city noises blurred into a distant hum, as if a chill were creeping in from all directions.

In the depths of her mind, she thought she heard the voice of a frail girl, praying to the heavens for a warm, comfortable place where she could eat whatever she desired.

*

pls do not share this anywhere or u will always stub ur toe when u walk past a door frame !! this translation has been stolen from mioscorner.com, pls only read there i’m begging u :kneels:

1960s. A station in the most northern part of the country—Lesser Khingan.

A young female educated youth, her hair tied in two braids, dashed into the thick snowfall, her military coat flapping wildly. The icy wind choked her breath, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on.

Only when she spotted the lone, battered green mailbox by the platform did she turn her head to shield herself from the storm, gasping for air.

Regaining her composure, she hunched her shoulders and, with trembling, frozen fingers, pulled out the plea for help she had written to her father. As she slipped the letter into the mailbox’s slot, she pressed her ear close, straining to hear the faint sound of the envelope dropping amidst the howling wind and the distant wail of a train. Satisfied, she straightened up.

Squinting through the snow-buried platform, she stamped her feet to shake off the cold and clumsily began her retreat.

No one could tell how many layers she had stuffed beneath her military coat. Her figure was as round as a ball, and her silhouette charging through the snow looked like a giant sphere rolling away.

Toot—toot—toot— 

The old train, discarded by another country, emitted a low, aged groan, as if urging passengers to board quickly.

The young female educated youth, bundled up like a ball, clutched the train’s handrail with one hand while awkwardly squeezing her way up, the other arm wrapped tightly around herself.

The conductor standing by the door anxiously scanned the platform, urging people to hurry. Glancing at the girl, he gave her a firm push on the back, finally helping her scramble into the carriage.

Passing through the icy connecting area between cars, the girl slipped inside. The sudden rush of warmer air inside made her pause involuntarily, though she still shivered.

Most of the passengers on this train were passionate young people answering the nation’s call, heading to the borderlands to dedicate themselves to the vast frontier.

The oldest among them were only twenty-three or twenty-four, while the youngest were barely fifteen or sixteen.

Returning to her seat, the girl noticed the neighboring educated youths tightening their military coats. They glanced at her listlessly before closing their eyes again to doze off.

A minute later, the train hissed and wheezed, creaking and clanking before finally lurching out of the station with labored breaths. The slow, rhythmic clatter of the tracks grew faster as the snow-covered Lesser Khingan platform faded behind them.

Once the new passengers found their seats, the carriage lights dimmed once more. The dark train plunged into the dense forest, the world outside swallowed by the darkness. It seemed like even the snow had been stained by night.

Wind seeped through the frost-sealed window cracks, and occasional coughs punctuated the darkness.

The girl wrapped herself tighter in her military coat but still felt no warmth. Even in thick cotton boots, her feet ached from the cold. She stomped them lightly, careful not to disturb others, softening each motion just before her soles hit the floor.

The bread her parents had packed for her was long gone, and the money in her pocket had dwindled. Worse, until the train restocked at Yakeshi Station, there was nothing to buy even if one had money. They could only endure.

Amid the symphony of snores, teeth grinding, chattering shivers, and the growling of her own stomach, the young female educated youth gradually slipped into a groggy half-sleep.

Time blurred and she became disorientated. Was it dawn already? Has it grown warmer? Or was the outside still pitch black? She alternated between chills and fever, her lips parched, craving water but unable to wake fully. She whimpered in discomfort, her ears sometimes filled with silence, sometimes with a deafening buzz, and sometimes with distant, indistinct calls.

Straining to listen, she finally recognized what the voice was calling out—

“Lin Xuejun… Lin Xuejun…”

Oh, right. Her name was Lin Xuejun.

Between alternating waves of hot and cold, she tried to wipe the tears from her face but found she lacked even the strength to lift her eyelids. Before sinking back into darkness, she still longed to sob uncontrollably.

She hoped the letter she’d mailed to her father’s workplace in Beijing would arrive quickly and safely. She regretted her decision. She didn’t want to go to the countryside anymore. She just wanted to go home.

Wuwu… How she longed to go to a warm, comfortable place where food and drink were never scarce…

At Hailar Station, a medic gave the bundled-up Lin Xuejun an injection before wrapping her in a woolen blanket and loading her onto a cart bound for Husehe Commune.

The truck carrying several educated youth set off overnight, rumbling out of the city and plunging deep into the snow-covered wilderness—to the vast grassland where the herders “valued their livestock more than their own lives,” where veterinarians were rarer than oases in the desert, and where animal husbandry was so crucial it could sway the nation’s development and future.

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this is one of my fav novels! it’s a very uplifting story as it’s set in the 60s during a time when china was still learning how to stand. super heartwarming and has tropes of found family, pets, farming. a very slice of life read!

the author also drew up her own character profiles so if you’d like to check them out they’re also linked in the table of contents! enjoy ^^

haven’t decided on the update frequency yet so we’ll see!

any typos or broken links, pls comment or dm me on discord!
support mio on kofi! ◡̈