Tag: GV

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

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When the educated youth arrived at the brigade, a severe snowstorm was raging, leaving the herders, farmers, and foresters living there too preoccupied with their own survival. Now that the weather had cleared, word spread that the educated youth had come out to labor alongside everyone, drawing many curious onlookers eager to watch them work.

The vast grasslands were sparsely populated, and even during the winter hibernations, strangers were a rare sight, let alone urban intellectuals.

Some brigade members stood at a distance, gesturing and commenting on whether the educated youth were any good at the work, while others remarked how the young women were as thin as monkeys.

At first, the four girls felt a bit self-conscious under the scrutiny, but once they got to work, they soon quickly forgot about it.

The recent snow disaster had left thick blankets of snow everywhere, not only blocking the roads, but also burying the brigade’s rooftops and courtyards.

Led by the herder auntie, Sulen, Lin Xuejun and the three other female educated youth joined several capable women in clearing the snow from all the brigade’s rooftops. This was to prevent the snow from being compacted by the wind and freezing into solid blocks, which could either collapse the roofs or suddenly injure someone below when dislodged.

When clearing the clean, uncontaminated snow, a few people would hold out cloth sacks below to catch it, while one person climbed a ladder to sweep the snow down.

Auntie Sulen worked swiftly and skillfully. While Lin Xuejun hacked and swept at the snow with a long pole, leaving the rooftop in disarray, Auntie Sulen used a deft technique to cut the snow into neat blocks, like tofu, and gently nudged them down. Each block slid smoothly into the cloth held open by those below.

The intact snow was collected in baskets and could even be taken home to boil for drinking water.

“Wow! That’s amazing!”

“Oh my, why can’t I do it right?”

“Mama¹ Sulen, how do you do it?”

The young female educated youth widened their eyes in admiration, their gazes fixed on Auntie Sulen. The stern expression she had worn earlier from worrying that the educated youth might be uncooperative or defiant instantly softened into a warm, friendly smile.

“Vibration, gibberish, avalanche…” Auntie Sulen could understand their questions but struggled to articulate her response, mixing Mongolian with fragments of Mandarin and gesturing wildly.

Lin Xuejun pretended to comprehend—though she actually understood perfectly—and chimed in, “So you first cut the snow into blocks, then use the vibration of the roof, like an avalanche, to make the whole block slide down?”

“Yes, yes.” Auntie Sulen gave a thumbs-up and nodded, impressed by Lin Xuejun’s grasp of the technique.

Through a mix of gestures and broken communication, they managed to work their way from house to house. Gradually, both Lin Xuejun and Meng Tianxia learned to sweep the snow off the roofs in neat blocks, earning Auntie Sulen’s approval as star pupils who had managed to master the skill in a single day.

By evening, when the four girls returned to their large tiled house, their arms were so sore they could barely lift them.

The male educated youth had it even worse. They had spent the entire day shoveling the roads with the brigade leader and a team of burly Mongolian men. Even after all that effort, the brigade’s snow had only barely been cleared, leaving them all utterly exhausted, looking like beaten grandsons².

Among the four, Wang Jianguo, who was the most lively, proceeded to wail as he shared their miserable experiences of the day with the ladies. For example, how shoveling snow had left their arms and feet numb from exertion, how their palms were covered in blisters, how their feet ached the moment they touched the ground, how pushing wheelbarrows full of snow was even worse, leaving their entire backs sore and unbearable, and how they had to wake up early the next day to clear the snow paths outside the brigade, lest the snow freeze solid and make the cattle and horses slip, hindering both travel and transport… 

The girls burst into laughter as they listened, chiming in with their own tales of the day, as if being utterly exhausted from labor was something worth celebrating.

After dinner, Lin Xuejun refused to let everyone collapse. Instead, she urged those who could still move to boil water for hot towels so they could apply heat to each other’s sore muscles and treat their wounds.

If these young people, with no medical knowledge and even less work experience, were left to their own devices, there was no doubt that all eight of them would be incapacitated by morning.

After the hot compresses, mutual massages, and bandaging, the educated youths felt their revolutionary camaraderie had deepened.

They had planned to sleep early to let their bodies recover fully, but lying on the heated kang, though their bodies were so exhausted they felt like they might give out—too tired to even chat—their spirits remained oddly exhilarated.

“Let me sing you a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me when I was little,” Yi Xiuyu’s voice suddenly broke the darkness of the room.

Everyone agreed, and Yi Xiuyu cleared her throat:

“Rock-a-bye baby, rock-a-bye baby, 

The little boat rocks to Grandma’s bridge,

Grandma, Grandma hello!

Grandma smiles at me so wide…”

Sure enough, some of them had indeed drifted off.

Filled with a sense of accomplishment, Yi Xiuyu continued her soft singing, lulling her older “siblings” to sleep:

“…Grandma calls me her good child,

 One pack of fruit, one pack of candy,

After sweet dates, there’s still cake to try…”

“Gurgle!” Lin Xuejun’s stomach suddenly let out a loud growl, loud enough to drown out Yi Xiuyu’s singing.

“…” Yi Xiuyu.

 “…” Lin Xuejun.

“Let’s just sleep.” Yi Xiuyu immediately decided to stop singing.

 “…Okay,” Lin Xuejun whispered in reply.

“Gurgle…”

 “…”

The tiled house sank back into dark silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of firewood collapsing in the stove and the soft pops of flames.

…

The next day, the female educated youths, having already cleared the snow from the brigade’s tiled roofs and yurt tops, thought their workload would be lighter compared to the male youths, who still had to shovel snow.

But before dawn, the brigade leader came knocking.

In early spring, the brigade usually received lambs for the winter, which required some to stay behind and care for the ewes and newborn lambs up to two months old, which took up a significant part of the labor force.

With the sheep in the brigade’s pens running low on grass, another group had to be sent to the mountains to cut more, further depleting the workforce.

Add to that snow-clearing, road-shoveling, livestock shed maintenance, and other tasks, and there simply weren’t enough hands.

The brigade leader did the math—they still needed people to take advantage of the clear weather to herd sheep, cattle, horses, and camels. This was a critical task.

“For safety, we always send two or more people together for herding,” the brigade leader said, sitting on the edge of the kang in the educated youths’ tiled house, warming his hands under the heated bedding. “But with the current labor shortage, we have no choice but to pair each of you with an experienced ‘old’ herder. It’s simply unavoidable.”

“I’ve picked four particularly gentle horses for you to choose from later. Whether you’ve ridden before or not, give it a try. Herding sheep and cattle may involve riding long distances, but the pace is slow. If you’re afraid of riding, you can walk alongside the livestock instead. If you get tired, you can ride the short-legged Mongolian horses with the herders’ help. If you’re too scared to ride horses, you can try riding a docile camel or a non-pregnant cow instead. I’m sure you’ll all be able to learn while herding, right?”

In the brigade leader’s view, what was so difficult about riding horses? Even children who were only as tall as tables in the pastoral areas dared to start riding. By the time they were ten years old, whether it was boys or girls, they could already help their families with herding. These educated youths were already so grown up—how could they not be able to learn how to ride?

Hearing this, the passionate and competitive female educated youths didn’t protest at all, and they all began to feel eager to try.

Lin Xuejun followed Meng Tianxia, who looked as fervent as if she were about to march out to battle, out of the tiled house, glancing back at the equally excited Yi Xiuyu and others. Remembering how her inner thighs and buttocks had been rubbed raw after her first horse ride, she silently scratched her cheek.

…

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:

If this were the 21st century, young people could easily find out online that learning horseback riding wasn’t so easy. Going herding on one’s first ride was practically starting at a hellish difficulty.

Though not as purely labor-intensive as the men’s snow shoveling, a flock of sheep could travel 20 to 60 kilometers in a day!

Normally, walking two kilometers on flat ground would already tire people out, let alone traversing snowy plains ten times that distance on a horse they’d never ridden before… 

Standing before the four horses, Meng Tianxia and the other two still hadn’t realized what their day would entail, enthusiastically stroking the horses’ manes and praising their beauty.

Mongolian horses were indeed impressive.

In the winter of 1241, when Subutai’s main cavalry force crossed the Carpathian Mountains through the Ruska Pass and suddenly appeared at the walls of Gran in the Danube River Basin, they covered the snow-covered distance of over 300 kilometers in just three days. The nearly world-conquering iron cavalry warriors rode horses that were considered ‘closest to camels’. The Mongolian horses had superb adaptability, tolerance for rough forage, easy fattening, extreme endurance, and long lifespans.

While the brigade leader and other herders scrutinized the four educated youths with appraising eyes, Lin Xuejun carefully examined the four horses’ shoulder height, rump height, emotional stability, muscle characteristics, health condition, and hoof condition.

For judging horses, there was a folk rhyme:

“From afar, observe its coat; up close, check its four feet.

From the front, its chest is broad chest; from the rear, its rump is even.

Pinch its waist, stroke and squeeze its nose.

Wave before its eyes three times, pry open its mouth for a careful look.

Go for a walk, or better yet, take it for a ride.”

Lin Xuejun approached each horse in turn, first letting them see her clearly, then offering her hand for them to sniff before gently stroking their faces and heads.

She then examined them thoroughly, patting and inspecting them like a discerning buyer.

Born on the grasslands, she knew best that horses were like legs—without them, one couldn’t move an inch on the grasslands.

A good grassland horse knew the way, understood human nature, could sense weather and terrain, and was a herder’s family and companion—sometimes even their lifeline in critical moments.

Those who rode fine steeds were envied by herders. More than that, riders acknowledged by exceptional horses were recognised as true warriors and gained the entire grassland’s respect.

The bond between the people of the grasslands and their horses ran deep and Lin Xuejun was meticulous in choosing her own horse. When facing the four creatures before her, her expression was far more serious than before.

This was no choice to make haphazardly or treat lightly.

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1. Here, “阿妈” (āmā) is a regional/minority-language-influenced term for “mother” or an older maternal woman, common in western and northern Chinese regions including Inner Mongolia. ↩︎
2. “跟三孙子一样” is northern Chinese slang meaning someone looks extremely miserable, exhausted, submissive, or pathetic. ↩︎

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

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The brigade leader sat on the stool, inwardly lamenting for a while that he hadn’t even gotten a sip of fresh milk. Under the questioning gazes of the crowd, he finally pulled a bill from his pocket.

He called Lin Xuejun to sit across from him, trying his best to ignore the lingering scent of milk in the air, and said with a stern expression, “The mother cow and her calf are part of the brigade’s collective property. Since you didn’t participate in labor these past few days, you didn’t receive work points. But now that you’ve saved the cow, we’ll credit you with half a day’s work points for yesterday.

“Additionally, for assisting with the birth and saving the cow’s life, you’ll receive an extra fifty cents as payment.”

This winter, the cold front had arrived early and lingered late. The Eleventh Production Brigade had only delayed moving from the autumn pasture to the winter pasture by just a week, yet they had still been caught in a blizzard on the way there. The early arrival of the snow disaster had cost them half their livestock. They’d had to stack the dead cattle and sheep into high walls to block the wind, just to save their remaining animals.

Although other brigades hadn’t suffered as badly, livestock losses were still severe. Even their own Seventh Production Brigade, which had retreated to the best winter pasture at the foot of the mountains, had lost nearly a tenth of their animals to freezing or illness after heavy snow collapsed the sheds.

So, don’t underestimate the preservation of two cows. It had a significant impact on the morale of the brigade’s herders. It might even affect their chances of being rated as an advanced brigade.

Fortunately, not many cows had been bred early in August, and no other cows were expected to calve soon.

With a sigh, the brigade leader pushed aside his thoughts and slid the money across the table with one finger. “Take good care of it.”

The educated youths in the large tiled house were both astonished and envious. Fifty cents! That could buy a jin¹ of walnut cakes or two bowls of braised pork!

Lin Xuejun lowered her gaze and stared at the fifty-cent bill for a few seconds before finally picking it up.

So… she’d just earned fifty cents?!

The highest denomination of this series of banknotes was only ten yuan, so fifty cents was no small amount.

In her predecessor’s memories, fifty cents was enough to cover the gift money for attending a wedding banquet or buying three bowls of wontons. Converted, it would be equivalent to somewhere between thirty and a hundred yuan decades later—roughly the same amount a rural veterinarian might charge for assisting a difficult cow birth in the future.

She smoothed the old bill between her fingers, admiring it as she turned it over and over.

The fifty-cent note featured a female factory worker laboring diligently. This series of banknotes depicted all kinds of female laborers, from female workers, female farmers, female tractor drivers, and so on. The highest denomination bore an image of people from all ethnic groups united in harmony, which was why the ten-yuan bill was known as the “Great Unity” bill.

If she assisted twenty difficult cow births, wouldn’t she earn herself a “Great Unity” banknote?

The educated youths earned a little over twenty yuan a month working for the brigade. So, if she assisted around forty births, she’d match their monthly wages.

If she could earn both work points to guarantee her a base salary as well as additional wages for each birth, wouldn’t she soon outearn the other educated youths? She might even make more than some of the workers who’d stayed in the cities.

And though the variety of vegetables and grains was limited on the grasslands, buying meat shouldn’t be too hard, right? Maybe once she had enough money, she could go to the commune headquarters and buy some meat to eat…

Lin Xuejun swallowed hard, carefully folded the money, and tucked it into her pocket before thanking the brigade leader.

The brigade leader nodded and stood up, addressing all the educated youths in the room with a booming voice, “The snow has stopped. The women will follow the female herders to shovel snow, and the men will come with me to clear the roads.”

After everyone responded and went to put on their padded jackets, the brigade leader suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back to ask Lin Xuejun, “How many times have you assisted in delivering a calf like you did last night?”

“…” Lin Xuejun hesitated for a moment but decided to play it safe and answer based on the original body’s experiences. “Last night was the first time.”

“Completely relying on what you learned in books?” The brigade leader was astonished.

In his view, those who only studied books without practice were all talk and no action, mere armchair strategists who were often the most unreliable. How could Lin Xuejun, with zero experience, successfully save a cow that was about to be sent to slaughter?

Was it that, after forty years of life, he had finally encountered a true genius, or had it simply been the blessing of the Eternal Blue Sky² last night, granting both the herders and Lin Xuejun a stroke of good fortune?

Once the snow had been cleared and the road had been opened, he’d swing by the commune headquarters to inquire about Comrade Lin Xuejun’s background. Perhaps she came from a family of experts.

After the brigade leader turned and strode out the door first, Lin Xuejun wiped away a bead of sweat in relief. Thank goodness last night didn’t require surgery.

Assisting in childbirth, after all, didn’t involve a scalpel, and was all about manual techniques, all able to be done just by feeling and measuring with her hand. Claiming she’d learned it from books was still somewhat plausible.

But if it had required actual surgery, that would’ve been harder to explain.

Lin Xuejun rubbed her chin. She’d need to lay some groundwork and create cover for her knowledge and skills before she could truly unleash her abilities without restraint.

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:

Standing nearby, Yi Xiuyu finally found a chance to speak and quickly sidled up to Lin Xuejun. Biting her lower lip, she looked up at her and asked, “Comrade Lin, can I see your fifty-cent note?”

“Sure.” Lin Xuejun pulled out the money and, as she handed it to Yi Xiuyu, added swiftly, “Two cents per look.”

“Huh?” Yi Xiuyu was so startled her hand trembled as she took the bill.

“Just kidding, haha.” Lin Xuejun couldn’t help but laugh at the wide-eyed expression of the fifteen-year-old girl.

“Ha– hahaha…” Yi Xiuyu’s shock faded, and she couldn’t help but join in the laughter. “I’ve never received a wage before. When my mom gave me money or ration coupons to buy things, it was usually just ten or twenty cents each time. I wonder when I’ll ever be able to earn fifty cents… We’ll get our wages by the end of the month, right?”

Listening to the educated youths chatting and watching Yi Xiuyu admire the fifty-cent note with a mix of laughter and awe, Lin Xuejun began plotting her career path in the Seventh Production Brigade of Husehe Commune.

It was the 1960s now, and the educated youths would likely remain in the countryside for another decade or two. With food and drink scarce, poor living conditions, freezing accommodations, and subpar supplies, enduring twenty years like this would be brutal.

She needed to find a way to improve their meals and living environment.

But no matter how beautiful the Hulunbuir Grassland was, winters lasted half the year, and summers only remained hot for a month. Winter temperatures could drop to over forty degrees below zero, and the unrelenting grassland winds or mountain gusts that cut through the trees could knock a person flat on their back. In these lands, freezing to death was a common occurrence… If even survival was a struggle in such harsh conditions, delicate vegetables and industries would find it even harder to take root here.

Lin Xuejun remembered her childhood, when logistics were underdeveloped and the economy was just starting to grow. Her family often went an entire winter without a single fresh green vegetable leaf, relying solely on meat, potatoes, other root vegetables, and dried goods preserved earlier in autumn. And that had been decades later, let alone here, nearly sixty years earlier.

The pastoral regions near the border truly lived up to their reputation as the harshest places—hard enough to stump even a donkey³.

Taking a deep breath, Lin Xuejun, who had been lying in bed for days and was increasingly less concerned about returning to her own time, suddenly struck it rich with a small fortune of fifty cents. She decided to pull herself together and charge forward—

Earn money! Start a business! Improve her life!

Eat meat! Eat meat! She wanted to eat meat!

Filled with determination, Lin Xuejun put on her military coat, wrapped herself in the sheepskin jacket the brigade leader had given her, and donned a fluffy Lei Feng hat. With her head held high, she pushed open the thick wooden door reinforced with black iron.

Her left foot landed in the snow at the doorstep, producing a crisp crunch.

The sunlight was dazzling, and the snow blanketing the world was so bright it hurt her eyes.

Squinting, Lin Xuejun trudged out of the yard, one deep step after another, inhaling the crisp, cold air. The chill filled her chest, as if instantly cleansing and refreshing her entire body.

The sky was a deep, clear blue, so beautiful it seemed unreal—so vast, so magnificent.

Not a single cloud appeared across the vast expanse of the sky, yet the land was covered in endless “white clouds” of snow.

The pine trees by the door were draped in frost and snow, making them look like something straight out of a fairy tale.

The ice and snow sparkled under the sunlight, as if the ground were paved with a carpet of gemstones—only nature could create such an extravagant spectacle.

At the foot of the mountains and along the sheltered edges of the grassland, tile-roofed houses and yurts were scattered in an orderly fashion, interspersed with large livestock sheds and pens.

Looking up, she saw wisps of smoke rising and dissipating from the white snow-covered rooftops.

Looking down, a trail of large paw prints left by a dog, like plum blossoms, stretched ahead.

When everyone saw the grassland after the blizzard for the first time, they stood frozen in place, greedily taking in the breathtaking scenery, forgetting to move, and forgetting even the cold.

Nothing was more beautiful than the clear winter day on the Hulunbuir Grassland.

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

1. Around 500 grams ↩︎
2. “Eternal Blue Sky” refers to Tengri, the supreme sky deity in traditional Mongolian and Central Asian belief systems. In this context, invoking it expresses awe and gratitude toward fate, heaven, or divine blessing. ↩︎
3. “难倒驴” literally “so difficult it defeats a donkey,” implying the conditions are brutally tough, even for hardy pack animals. ↩︎

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

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The next morning, warmth still lingered in the bedding, but the air inside the room had already turned chilly.

Lin Xuejun stretched her arm out and immediately got goosebumps, so she shivered and quickly pulled it back under the covers.

So cold…

Since men and women shared the same room now, the moment they heard rustling sounds from the men’s side as they got up, the women also immediately sprang upright from their beds. Though they hissed and shivered from the cold, they gritted their teeth and quickly dressed.

Meng Tianxia was the first to jump off the kang, exclaiming “First!” before dashing out to gather clean snow for everyone to boil water.

She washed her face in a hurry, as if she were rushing off to battle, and her cheeks still flushed, she left with a shout of, “I’ll fetch breakfast today!” before running out the door as if someone were chasing her.

*

Half an hour later, when Meng Tianxia returned with breakfast, Mu Junqing sliced the coarse grain buns and toasted them on the cleaned stove until they turned golden and crispy. He then took out a bag of sugar he had brought from home and carefully sprinkled a bit into the congee.

Though the breakfast had been “upgraded” by Mu Junqing, the buns were still hard enough to scrape the roof of one’s mouth. The congee was bland, with only a few grains of white rice and mostly unsoftened corn grits. The pickled vegetables were unbearably salty, with just a small strip able to accompany half a bowl of congee.

Although all the food was barely edible, the educated youths ate in silence with their heads down, uttering not a single word of complaint.

Lin Xuejun was just thinking that once the roads reopened after the snowfall, the brigade could send someone to the Husehe Commune headquarters to restock supplies, and maybe the meals would improve… when suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Yi Xiuyu, who was sitting closest to the door, got up to answer it and found a small aluminum bucket placed outside. Looking up, she only caught a glimpse of a figure running away. It was a man in a Mongolian deel¹, clutching a triangular sheepskin yuden hat, stumbling through the deep snow without even turning back.

“Who was it?” someone inside called out.

“Not sure…” Yi Xiuyu carried the small bucket inside and, after closing the door, hesitated before saying, “I think it might be the uncle whose cow had a difficult birth last night.”

“Brother Ülzii, the herdsman?” Lin Xuejun, holding a rock-hard bun, turned to ask Yi Xiuyu.

“Maybe. He ran off in a flash and left this behind.” Yi Xiuyu lifted the small bucket, feeling the liquid sloshing inside. “Seems like water.”

Lin Xuejun set down her steamed bun and peered out the frost-covered window again, but all she saw was the blinding white snow, without a trace of anyone else.

“What is it?” Meng Tianxia circled it curiously.

Lin Xuejun took the bucket, unscrewed the lid, and froze at the sight of the milky-white liquid inside. Her eyes widened in delight. “It’s milk!”

A chorus of gasps and shuffling followed as all the educated youths stood up, their eyes practically glowing as they stared into the bucket. A few nearly drooled before catching themselves and awkwardly sitting back down.

“This must be from Herdsman Ülzii, for Comrade Lin,” Mu Junqing nodded. “Perfect for nourishing you.”

“Right, this bucket should last Comrade Lin several days,” another youth said, swallowing loudly before quickly turning away, pretending he wasn’t eyeing the milk at all.

“Could it be from the brigade leader for—” A male educated youth started to ask, unable to resist his craving.

Mu Junqing turned his head and glared at the other person, causing the male educated youth to quickly shut his mouth. That’s right, they hadn’t done anything, so why would the brigade leader send them milk? Moreover, if it really was the brigade leader who sent the milk, why didn’t he say anything to them before turning and running off?

Yesterday, when Ülzii came to deliver firewood, he had done the same, and dropped it off before leaving immediately. That was clearly Ülzii’s style. Even though they all craved the milk, they couldn’t just lie through their teeth and steal Comrade Lin’s hard-earned reward.

Lin Xuejun looked at the small aluminum bucket, about 15 centimetres tall, and raised her head to address everyone. “Let’s share the milk today. That way, it’ll give us energy for work.”

“How can we do that?” Meng Tianxia was the first to object, standing up and waving her hands. She wasn’t that greedy! Even though her eyes could barely tear themselves away from the milk, she couldn’t possibly indulge!

But Lin Xuejun generously handed the milk bucket to Meng Tianxia. “Comrade Meng, could you add half a bowl of water to the milk and boil it for us?”

Meng Tianxia looked longingly at Lin Xuejun, then at Mu Junqing.

“When you have something delicious in the future, you can share some with me too,” Lin Xuejun clapped her hands together. “Hurry up, we’ll be leaving soon. If we don’t drink it now, there won’t be enough time.”

Mu Junqing smiled faintly and finally nodded at Meng Tianxia.

With a delighted squeal, Meng Tianxia took the bucket of milk and headed for the stove. Normally a whirlwind of energy, she now walked with exaggerated care, as if afraid to spill even a drop.

After adding water to the bucket, she stood vigilantly by the stove, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the aluminum container, swearing she wouldn’t let the milk boil over. After all, not a single drop could be wasted!

Yi Xiuyu had already prepared six cups and bowls, rubbing her hands together as she hovered near the pot of milk.

“Is it really alright for us to drink this?” she asked, thinking guiltily about how she had once nicknamed Lin Xuejun ‘Little Sister Lin’ and complained about not wanting to take care of a sick person… Yet now here she was, about to drink Lin Xuejun’s milk. It was too embarrassing.

“Of course,” Lin Xuejun assured her solemnly, earning a shy smile from Yi Xiuyu.

A few minutes later, small bubbles began to rise in the aluminum bucket, and a fragrant steam gradually wafted out. The other educated youths also gathered around, some near, some far, all inhaling deeply.

The warm aroma of milk smells so delicious~~~

*

An early-rising villager passing by the educated youths’ residence noticed the empty courtyard—no carts, no firewood or dung piled against the walls, no chicken coops or sheep pens, not even a guard dog.

Shaking his head, the villager thought these newly arrived educated youths must be the poorest, most destitute folks in the brigade, with nothing but their own strength to rely on. But then, suddenly, he caught a whiff of an enticing aroma.

His mouth instantly started to water, and he hurried closer to the entrance of the educated youths’ small courtyard, tilting his head to sniff deeply.

“Tsk tsk, what’s that amazing smell?”

As he stood there inhaling, a grubby little kid from next door ran over, greeted him, and asked curiously, “Uncle, what are you doing?”

“Huh? Oh! Just passing by—passing by!” Flustered, the villager wiped his mouth and quickly walked away.

The grubby little kid watched him go in confusion, and just as he was about to continue his errand for his mother, he suddenly stopped.

His nose twitched rapidly, and before he knew it, he was standing in the exact same spot the uncle had been standing in.

So good… so good…

Before long, the grubby little kid had stealthily entered the courtyard, completely forgetting the errand his mother had given him, consumed entirely with the greedily sniffing that intoxicating scent.

…Inside the tiled house, after the milk was boiled, Meng Tianxia eagerly moved aside the milk bucket and carefully ladled a bowl for each person.

Not a single drop spilled or dripped out throughout the entire process.

Yi Xiuyu pulled her sleeves down to insulate her hands from the heat, cradled her bowl of milk, and returned to the dining table. Bending over, she blew on the steaming milk, looking just like a greedy cat that was eager to drink but wary of the head.

The last large bowl in the bucket, of course, was all for Lin Xuejun.

After serving Lin Xuejun, Meng Tianxia added water to the bucket, swirled it to rinse off the milk residue clinging to the sides, then placed it back on the stove to simmer over low heat.

By the time the milk was ladled from the stove to the table, a thin, creamy-yellow layer of milk skin had already formed on the surface.

Yi Xiuyu carefully lifted the milk skin with her fingernail, tilted her head back, and caught it in her mouth. With her eyes closed and head tilted, she chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, then shook her head with a sigh of satisfaction.

Lin Xuejun had often drunk fresh milk like this as a child. She watched her mother milk the cows, then carry the bucket to boil it, steam rising in the air.

The mist always blurred her mother’s face. She would take the bowl and, encouraged by her mother, blow on it to cool it down before drinking it earnestly. Only when she lifted her head after finishing the milk would she see her mother smiling at her with contentment.

During her years studying in Beijing for university and graduate school, she rarely went home during summer or winter breaks. Eager to gain more experience and thinking she might one day inherit her parents’ pastures and livestock on the grasslands, she felt she might not have many opportunities to explore the wider world. So, instead of going home, she was always either traveling or interning at veterinary clinics or dairy farms.

Looking back at it now, it had been many years since she last tasted such rich, piping-hot milk.

The taste of the cold milk she used to drink casually while living alone and the steaming milk her mother used to prepare had both faded from memory, gradually replaced by the aroma of the bowl before her now.

The rich milk first filled her mouth with its creaminess, then a delicate sweetness, its deliciousness warming her cheeks until they flushed.

As the milk slid down her throat and into her stomach, her entire body soon grew warm.

The taste of the dry, hard-to-swallow steamed buns and plain congee from earlier had now disappeared, replaced by the lingering fragrance of milk, so divine it could rival the nectar of the gods, lingering in her mouth and permeating the tiled house.

Her pores seemed to open, sighing softly—this was real. Lin Xuejun could actually see wisps of steam rising from the other educated youths drinking milk with her. Surely, their pores were resonating with their stomachs, expressing their joy to the outside world.

So delicious, so delicious, so delicious… their pores must be chattering, puffing out steam.

“I love milk. Cows truly are the most generous animals,” Lin Xuejun couldn’t help but exclaim.

“I love milk too, and you’re also very generous,” Yi Xiuyu replied, still savoring that bite of milk skin. Even as she answered, her eyes remained fixed on the milk in her bowl.

“Haha, I’m not the one producing the milk.” Lin Xuejun laughed, her bowl swaying slightly in her hands.

“You saved the cow, and the cow produces milk,” Mu Junqing stated with clear logic.

“Cause and effect—good deeds bring good rewards.” Lin Xuejun nodded.

“If you love the people, the people will love you back,” Mu Junqing said solemnly, then realized his milk was already finished.

“There’s more in the pot.” Meng Tianxia pointed back at the small aluminum bucket, where the water used to rinse the milk residue was still simmering.

Mu Junqing hurried over, poured the clear, faintly milky water into his bowl, swirled it to mix with the remaining milk, then tipped his head back and gulped it down in big mouthfuls.

The others followed suit. After drinking the milk, they all rushed to rinse their bowls again with the boiled water from the pot, drinking until not a single drop remained in the milk bucket or their bowls. Their bellies were filled to the brim with nothing but milk and water before they finally stopped.

*

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:

When Brigade Leader Wang Xiaolei arrived at the educated youths’ courtyard with his hands tucked in his sleeves, he spotted a shabby-looking child crouching beneath their window from afar, tilting his head upward as if doing who-knows-what.

Wasn’t that Baat, the eight-year-old boy from the herder next door?!

“Little Baat, what are you doing?” Brigade Leader Wang barked as he stepped through the gate.

Baat, who’d been greedily sniffing the milky aroma with an upturned face, hastily wiped the drool from his mouth and dodged the brigade leader’s outstretched hand, scampering away like a cat.

The brigade leader stared suspiciously at Baat’s retreating figure for a long moment before striding over to knock on the educated youths’ door.

When Yi Xiuyu invited him inside, he was nearly bowled over by the overwhelming fragrance of milk filling the room. Having gone all winter without fresh milk, the brigade leader couldn’t help but instinctively take a deep breath in.

Now he finally understood what Baat had been sneaking around for under the window.

[Bonus Scene]

Lin Xuejun declared boldly, “Since fate has brought us together here, we’ll take root and build our motherland side by side from now on. We’re all brothers and sisters—we share hardships and fortunes alike. Anyone who says otherwise isn’t treating me like family!”

Meng Tianxia responded even more boldly, “Good! Let’s drip our blood into this milk! We’ll swear brotherhood and sisterhood as sworn siblings!”

Lin Xuejun: “…”

---

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1. traditional Mongolian robe ↩︎

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

---

Upon returning to the large tiled house, the educated youths were immediately hit by the warm indoor air, causing them to shiver one after another.

After the brigade leader entered, Mu Junqing and the others hurriedly offered him their warm hospitality.

“Look at the mess you’ve worked up. Go wash your face, there’s no need to entertain me,” the brigade leader said, patting Mu Junqing on the shoulder while quickly scanning the interior of the tiled house.

Lin Xuejun also ran off to wash her face, once again making sure to meticulously scrub her arms and hands.

“Oh dear, you’re down to just this little firewood. I’ll have someone bring some more over,” the brigade leader remarked as he strolled around the room, neither sitting down nor accepting the cup of water Yi Xiuyu handed him. Spotting the pitifully small pile of firewood beneath their stove, he frowned and made to leave.

Just as he pushed open the door, he bumped into someone. It was none other than Ülzii. His gaze dropped to the bundle of firewood clutched in the herdsman’s arms.

“Great minds really do think alike,” the brigade leader laughed heartily, stepping aside to let Ülzii in.

Ülzii hesitated before taking a tentative step forward. Glancing down, he noticed that although the floor of the educated youths’ house was made of concrete, it had been swept clean. Then, looking at his own shoes, caked with cow dung, mud, and snow, he withdrew his foot. Bending down, he placed the large bundle of split firewood on the ground, peeked inside the house, exchanged a brief glance with the brigade leader, and then hurried off without a word.

It was as if he feared being thanked, fleeing like a shadow.

“Hey—” The brigade leader called out, but seeing that he couldn’t stop him, he closed the door.

“Ülzii brought you more firewood. Use this for now, and I’ll see which families have extra firewood or cow dung to spare for you later. It’s getting late, so it’s time for you to sleep. I’ll be off now,” the brigade leader said while gripping the doorknob, his eyes fixed on Lin Xuejun, who had just finished washing her face and was drying herself with a towel.

“Thank you, Brigade Leader,” Lin Xuejun said hastily, tossing the towel onto the washbasin stand and rushing to the door to see him out.

But the brigade leader waved her off with a “No need,” before hurrying away.

Left behind, the roomful of educated youths stared at one another, unsure how to break the silence after everything that had just happened.

They wanted to praise Lin Xuejun, but given that they weren’t that familiar with her yet, they feared coming across as sycophantic or foolish, so they could only remain in this somewhat awkward stalemate.

They yearned to talk about the events of the evening, but it had all happened so fast—they hadn’t fully processed it yet, hadn’t even grasped the full weight of it, leaving them tangled in confusion.

The room full of young people who came from all corners of the country, who were strangers, but were now expected to eat and live together every day, had just shared the heart-pounding experience of witnessing the miracle of birth. Their blood still raced with excitement, yet not a single word could be spoken.

*

Meanwhile, Wang Ying, the medic, made her way back through the night to her quarters. The first thing she did upon entering was to lovingly wipe her rubber gloves over and over, even applying a dab of snowflake cream to them.

Afraid the gloves might be damaged by the oil lamp’s flame, she inspected them carefully under the moonlight, checking for any signs of wear. Later, just as she was about to fall asleep, she got up again to touch them once more.

While she marveled at Lin Xuejun’s daring act of reaching into the cow’s rear to save the calf, her heart still ached for her gloves all the same. As she caressed them, Wang Ying felt a sudden wave of relief: at least treating humans wouldn’t require her to wear her beloved little gloves and reach into anyone’s backside.

*

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:

On the other side, in the large tiled house of the small courtyard, the educated youths lay on the heated kang, stuffed with the dry firewood sent by Ülzii, their faces flushed, ears burning, and eyes wide open.

Staring at the ceiling, they felt nothing but excitement—how could they possibly fall asleep at such a time?

The male educated youths tossed and turned like pancakes for a long time before Meng Tianxia finally couldn’t take it anymore, “Are you guys going to sleep or not? Is the kang too hot, making you restless?”

“The kang is so warm. It’s the first time I’ve felt this warm since leaving home. Even the marrow in my bones, frozen to ice, has thawed,” one male educated youth immediately chimed in, his voice brimming with happiness.

“If it had been this warm earlier, Comrade Lin Xuejun’s cold would have healed long ago,” another added.

“If Comrade Lin Xuejun hadn’t recovered, who would have treated the villagers’ cows? And if no one treated the cows, who would have sent us firewood? Every household has limited supplies. No one would just give it away for nothing,” Meng Tianxia retorted quickly.

“So, who’s really bringing the warmth—the fellow villagers or Comrade Lin?” Yi Xiuyu interjected.

“Both. But of course, it’s Comrade Lin who brought warmth to the villagers first, and then the villagers returned the favor.”

“And we, who didn’t do anything for the villagers, get to share in the warmth too.”

“Haha, we owe our thanks to Comrade Lin… Ah, it’s so cozy!”

“I was afraid that if I failed, I’d drag you all down with me,” said Lin Xuejun, still shaken. Even decades later, there would still be lives lost due to difficult calving.

“What’s there to fear? It’s not like we caused the cow’s difficult birth. We tried to help, and even if it didn’t work out, your intentions were good.”

“Exactly.”

“Besides, you’re so skilled—just go for it boldly.”

“Thankfully, it worked out in the end.” Lin Xuejun wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, too embarrassed to say much more. Luckily, the oil lamp was already out, so no one could see her grinning like a little mouse that had stolen oil, her smile so wide she could barely close her mouth after being praised so much.

She pulled the quilt up to cover everything below her nose, otherwise, the cold air in the room might freeze her front teeth.

“Hey, why isn’t Comrade Mu saying anything? Could he actually be asleep?” one male educated youth suddenly asked.

“I keep thinking about a phrase,” Mu Junqing finally spoke up.

“What phrase?” Meng Tianxia grew curious.

“Comrade Lin Xuejun is like an artist, mastering the art of turning sorrowful faces into joyful ones.” Mu Junqing then muttered to himself, “In the phrase ‘mastering the art of turning sorrowful faces,’ would it sound better to replace ‘turning’ with ‘transforming’? ‘Turning sorrowful faces into joyful ones’ versus ‘transforming the art of turning sorrowful faces’—which word works better?”

No one cared whether it was “turning” or “transforming.” They were all captivated by Mu Junqing’s sudden poetic flair. The cheerful educated youths erupted in excitement:

“That was legendary!”

“Holy crap!”

“Such eloquence! Well said!”

“How about we start a Husehe Commune newspaper and write about the heroic deeds of us eight educated youths?”

“‘Lin Xuejun, an Educated Youth, Bravely Save a Herdsman’s Pregnant Cow’—yes, let’s use that as the headline.”

“Yours isn’t good. I think it should be ‘Lin Xuejun’s Spirit Shines Brightly in Delivering a Difficult Birth for a Cow.'”

Even the introverted ones couldn’t stop chiming in with a, “So impressive.” “Really well said.”

And throughout the entire discussion, Lin Xuejun didn’t say a word.

She had already pulled the quilt covering her nose and mouth over her head, feeling utterly mortified! She had to wrap herself tightly in the quilt to keep from laughing out loud and wriggling around like a worm under the covers.

Good grief, what kind of embarrassing role-play was this?!

She was just too… too…

Too happy!

[Author’s Note]

[Northeastern Dialect Lesson: to wriggle = gǔ (cricket) yong (pupa).]

---

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---

Lin Xuejun raised her hands and leaned against the wooden post behind her. The muscles she had been tensing suddenly relaxed, and only then did she realize how sore her entire body was, especially her arms, which felt almost too heavy for her to lift.

She turned her gaze to meet Mu Junqing, who was also holding up his hands, standing just a step ahead of her.

The male educated youth who was only in his early twenties had now shed the mask of forced maturity that was put on out of obligation to act like an older brother to the others. His naturally curly hair had become even more disheveled from wrestling with the calf and pushing the cow’s hindquarters, resembling a messy bird’s nest. His glasses that sat slightly askew on his nose were now smudged and fogged up, adding an air of mystery to the handsome, double-lidded eyes behind them. His once clean, wheat-colored cheeks now bore a faint mark from where the cow’s tail had whipped him at some point… 

Mu Junqing seemed completely unaware of his “disheveled” appearance. His exhausted eyes met Lin Xuejun’s, and then his expression softened into a smile, like spring warmth blooming, as if vast fields of flowers had suddenly burst into bloom.

Lin Xuejun grinned back foolishly, looking like a drunken simpleton.

She wanted to find a place to wash her hands but suddenly realized she couldn’t move her left arm. Turning her head, she bumped into a small head adorned with braids—it was Yi Xiuyu, who stood half a head shorter than her.

“Comrade Yi.”

Hearing Lin Xuejun’s call, Yi Xiuyu looked up in confusion. Only when their eyes met did she realize that, in her excitement, she had been tightly clutching Lin Xuejun’s left arm against her chest.

She quickly let go, intending to apologize, but when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t help but laugh, forgetting everything she had meant to say.

The only water in the cattle shed was the water in the trough. Lin Xuejun walked over, first rubbing her arms and gloves with snow before rinsing them in the trough.

As she turned to peel off the rubber gloves that were practically glued to her hands, she suddenly noticed something unusual. Looking up, she was met with countless gazes.

She froze, scanning the crowd, and realized every pair of eyes crinkled with warmth. They were all looking at her with kindness in their eyes.

A large hand suddenly clapped her shoulder from the side. The brigade leader, who had seemed particularly gruff earlier, now wore a bright, hearty smile. His heavy pat made her shoulder dip slightly as he booming voice echoed, “You’ve got some real skill, young comrade! What’s that old saying again? Young people shouldn’t be underestimated! And what did the Great Leader say? Women hold up half the sky!”

The brigade leader laughed heartily, gesturing for Yi Xiuyu to pass over a small blanket, which he then shoved into Lin Xuejun’s arms. “Wrap yourself up, don’t catch a cold.”

Just then, Ülzii, the livestock owner, squeezed out from the shed, bringing his wife and child to thank Lin Xuejun.

The dark clouds of worry that had hung over his face earlier had indeed dispersed, replaced by a simple, radiant smile.

Lin Xuejun’s commanding energy from earlier had now faded, replaced by a bashful expression. As she dried her hands on her military coat, she mimicked the local way of speaking, “Uncle, no need to be polite. We’re all members of the commune, and the cattle belong to everyone. This is just what I should do.”

“Haha, don’t call him ‘uncle’—Ülzii’s only 34. Just calling him ‘big brother’ will do,” the brigade leader joked before translating her words.

The wind and sun of the grasslands were truly harsh. Ülzii’s weathered skin and wrinkles could easily cause someone to mistake him for someone who was sixty.

Having mistakenly used the wrong generational title and inadvertently making someone sound older than they were, Lin Xuejun couldn’t help but blush. Fortunately, everyone was immersed in the joy of the cow’s successful delivery, and no one really paid attention to such minor details.

The herders who had come to help took turns bidding farewell with their oil lamps. As each person left, they not only greeted the brigade leader and Ülzii, but also nodded subtly to Lin Xuejun or praised her with a smile before departing.

Standing in the cowshed, Lin Xuejun said goodbye to each person, gradually falling into a bit of a daze.

So this was what it felt like to be respected, seen, appreciated, and liked?

A warm trickling sensation soon began to swell in her chest. She bundled herself up in her small quilt and lifted the edge to cover her flushed chin and cheeks.

In the dim cowshed, devoid of neon lights or electricity, Lin Xuejun’s eyes shone brightly.

*

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:

As the crowd of people constantly exhaling warm breaths thinned out, the temperature in the cowshed dropped accordingly.

Lin Xuejun shivered slightly and turned to instruct Ülzii, “I’ve already put oxytetracycline in the cow’s uterus to prevent infection. Also, let the cow lick the calf thoroughly—even the amniotic fluid stuck to the hay should be eaten by her since it helps with the expulsion of the afterbirth. Once the placenta comes out, don’t feed it directly to the cow—chop it up first to avoid gastrointestinal issues like diarrhea or bloating. It’ll also help replenish the cow’s essential amino acids and proteins. Make sure to keep an eye on the calf; if it still can’t stand after being licked dry, manually squeeze some colostrum for it. With proper nutrition and stronger immunity, it’ll stand and nurse on its own. And make sure the calf stays warm—you can add some dry hay, and keep an eye out so the mother doesn’t accidentally trample the calf…”

She rattled off a long list, causing the brigade leader’s face to scrunch up in confusion. When translating for Ülzii, he skipped all the explanations and just relayed the key points.

Lin Xuejun suppressed a laugh and continued pretending not to understand.

“Alright, it’s been hours—you must be exhausted. Let me walk you back to rest.” The brigade leader stretched his arms, bid farewell to Ülzii’s family, and then escorted the eight educated youths toward their tiled house.

Wang Ying, the medic, tucked her gloves into her medical kit, wrapped her scarf tightly, and hurried to catch up. Falling into step beside Lin Xuejun, she beamed and said, “Comrade Lin, you’re amazing! I’ve really broadened my horizons today. You’re even more skilled than our teachers.”

“Thank you for lending me your gloves,” Lin Xuejun replied, remembering them gratefully.

In this era, brucellosis¹ was still quite prevalent. While sheep brucellosis was severe and easily detected, cattle brucellosis was often overlooked due to its milder symptoms.

This zoonotic disease could cause fever, pain, and even infertility in humans, with symptoms worsening over time and proving difficult to eradicate.

In cows with brucellosis, the highest bacterial concentration would be found in the birth canal. Without Wang Ying’s gloves, Lin Xuejun might not have dared to intervene manually.

“You used them to save a cow—that’s its purpose! Its glory!” Wang Ying laughed heartily before a gust of cold wind forced her to cover her mouth. Waving at Lin Xuejun and the others, she dashed off into the night.

---

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1.  Brucellosis is an infection that can be transmitted to humans from animals such as cows, sheep, goats and pigs. People with brucellosis may develop fever, sweats, headaches, back pains, and physical weakness. In severe cases, the central nervous system and the lining of the heart may be affected. ↩︎

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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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---

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.

---

any typos or broken links, pls comment or dm me on discord!
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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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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!

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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! ◡̈