The pickled cabbage soup had been overcooked, turning limp when picked up with chopsticks, though the broth seemed all the more flavorful for it.

The noodle slices were slippery on the surface yet pleasantly chewy. Huo Ling ate until sweat beaded on his forehead, polishing off two large bowls, even drinking every last drop of broth.

“I never really ate noodle slices before, but now I think they’re better than regular noodles.”

The ger smiled and said, “Then I’ll make them more often.”

Earlier, Huo Ling had calculated for him that with the silver earned from mountain-running, after consuming the grain ration from their family fields each year, there would still be enough left to buy more grain in town.

With just two mouths to feed, there was no need to skimp on anything—grain, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar.

The man had always had a hearty appetite. Knowing this, Huo Ling was generous with the flour and oil when cooking. People needed to eat their fill to have strength for work. If they could eat their fill, why go hungry?

Hadn’t they journeyed northward for a thousand miles as a family precisely to secure a full stomach?

“Dager, come here!”

After the meal, Huo Ling noticed Dager scratching his eye and shaking his head. Calling the dog over, he gestured to the ground, signaling him to sit.

Dager’s left eye was already slightly reddened, and Yan Qi felt a pang of pity. He took a clean handkerchief, dampened it, and carefully cleaned the short fur around his eye, revealing a trace of blood.

“Do we have medicine for him at home?”

“Yes.”

Huo Ling produced a jar of herbal powder, also purchased from Bearded Ma. He measured out a small amount, mixing it with water in a small bowl to form a paste safe enough to apply near the eyes.

“I’ll hold him down. You apply it.”

Dager was often uncooperative at times like this. When Huo Ling was alone, he’d have to tie him up and corner him against the wall to apply the medicine. Now with an extra pair of hands, it was a bit easier.

Trapped in place, Dager couldn’t move, his tail sweeping anxiously across the floor. Yan Qi picked up a bit of the herbal paste with his finger and pressed it firmly onto the corner of Dager’s injured eye.

“Stay still, Dager.”

Worried it would rub the medicine off the moment they let go, the two maintained this position for nearly fifteen minutes before releasing it. Throughout, Huo Ling held Dager’s body between his legs while Yan Qi covered its eye.

The moment they released their hold, Dager sprang free. Just as it reached to touch Yan Qi, Huo Ling barked a warning. After several failed attempts, it gave up, flopping down in the middle of the courtyard. Its back view alone looked utterly aggrieved.

“You’re covered in fur.”

Huo Ling shook out his sleeves and glanced at Yan Qi’s clothes. “Dogs shed like crazy in summer. You’ve got quite a bit on you, too.”

Yan Qi, who loved dogs, shrugged it off. “No big deal. Just brush him more often, and he’ll shed less.”

He then asked Huo Ling when he last bathed Dager. Learning it had been over half a month, he said, “Well, once his eyes are better, give him another bath.”

As he spoke, he noticed Huo Ling discreetly pointing at Dager. Glancing over, he saw both of Dager’s ears drooping flat.

Huo Ling chuckled softly, “He hates baths the most.”

Yan Qi shook his head helplessly. “He’s just like a child—understands everything. Smarter than any dog I ever had before.”

Life on the mountain was indeed quiet. With no neighbors to visit, moments of silence fell, leaving only birdsong and no human voices. Fortunately, Dager was there, playing with him during idle hours, which brought its own kind of joy.

For Huo Ling, Yan Qi’s presence now offered an irreplaceable comfort.

Bearded Ma’s skill in mixing medicine proved effective—Dager’s eyes opened the very next day, with only a faint trace of redness remaining.

Instantly forgetting yesterday’s frustration at being held down for the ointment, he eagerly urged Huo Ling into the mountains first thing in the morning.

Before they left, Yan Qi called out to Huo Ling. The young husband hurried out of the house, holding three cloth pouches—one large and two small—sewn with medicine.

“You forgot these.”

Huo Ling took them, slapping his forehead.

“I almost did forget.”

Yesterday, he’d been bitten by a grass tick. That afternoon, Yan Qi had done nothing else but rush to sew three pouches filled with medicinal powder. The large one was meant to hang at the waist, while the two smaller ones were for the neck—one for himself and one for Dager. His was still a size larger than the dog’s.

“With these, we should encounter fewer grasshoppers today.”

Huo Ling fastened his own pouch around his neck. Seeing the ger approach, he handed the other pouch to him to secure around his waist.

“Let’s hope so.”

Dager had something new around his neck, and the smell wasn’t exactly pleasant. It kept making him sneeze.

The two exchanged glances. Suddenly, it hit them: dogs rely on their noses to detect scents. If they hung this around Dager’s neck, he might just get completely disoriented.

“My mind went blank.”

Yan Qi rubbed Dager’s chin, unhooking the pouch. He consulted Huo Ling: “Let me think of a way to sew some straps onto its back.”

After walking several miles, Huo Ling still pondered Yan Qi’s words and actions.

His husband was truly thoughtful and capable. Compared to how he’d cared for Dager before, his own efforts felt like a stepfather watching over a child.

In the past, he’d done the same routine day after day: trekking into the mountains to herd livestock, then descending to sell the goods. Some of the money earned was spent, some saved. By year’s end, he’d jingle the heavy coin pouch, yet felt little joy.

At first, he earned money to repay debts; later, to marry. But with the wedding delayed indefinitely, a hollow emptiness lingered in his heart.

His brother, sister-in-law, and little niece were undoubtedly family. But it wasn’t until Yan Qi came along that he realized the home down the mountain was indeed a home, yet fundamentally different from the one up the mountain.

Lost in thought, he found himself longing to return home soon after leaving. Upon realizing this, Huo Ling couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

Blame it on his husband being simply too charming.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

On his first trip down the mountain with Yan Qi, Huo Ling didn’t linger long. He hurried back down the day before the first day of the month, bringing not only the mountain goods to sell but also several pounds of wild mallow greens and a dozen wild duck eggs for home.

This time, he didn’t even have to worry about what little trinket to bring for Huo Ying. Yan Qi had spent six or seven days embroidering a small butterfly handkerchief, which delighted the little girl immensely.

“Auntie, you’re so kind!”

Children of this age in the village, regardless of gender, were raised freely, rolling about in mud all day before returning home. Few knew how to carry handkerchiefs, let alone embroidered ones.

Though mischievous, Huo Ying loved to look pretty. Pampered since childhood by her parents and uncle, she received new clothes for the New Year, silver-studded hair ribbons, and now this embroidered handkerchief.

She held it in her hands for a long while, unable to sit still.

“Mother, I want to go find Brother Chun and Donghua!”

Donghua was Qi Hongmei’s daughter. Though both her parents bore the surname Qi, they weren’t from the same village. Their ancestral roots were as distant as two branches of a tree, their hometowns not even in the same region.

Qi Donghua had an older brother named Qi Chunshu, two years her senior. The boy was sharp and ambitious. He studied at the village school run by an old scholar in Sanjia Village, recognized quite a few characters, and was considered one of the rare literate youths in Xiashan Village.

“It’s almost lunchtime. Go in the afternoon.”

Ye Suping didn’t agree to Huo Ying’s suggestion. The little girl pouted and huffed, but her attention was quickly drawn away by the Dager behind her, who was clutching a small cloth bundle.

“Uncle, what’s this?”

Huo Ling smiled and replied, “It’s an insect-repelling pouch. Your aunt made it for the Dager.”

“Why hang it on his back? Or is this Dager’s waist?”

Huo Ying demonstrated with a serious expression, “I have one too. Mother hangs it on my waist when I work in the fields. So Dager should wear it on his waist too, right?”

“Mm, you’re absolutely right.”

Huo Ling nodded, looking thoroughly convinced.

When talking to children, there’s often no need for lengthy explanations. Their thoughts are quirky and whimsical—better to just go along with them. Once they grow up, these charming little theories fade away.

During the meal, Huo Feng learned Dager had injured his eye and gave him an extra cake. Dager snatched it in one gulp, swallowing it whole without even chewing.

Ye Suping passed by and saw the group gathered around the dog. Suddenly, she remembered something.

“Oh, right, Second Brother. Hu-zi’s dad stopped by our fields today. He asked if Dager was available for breeding. Apparently, someone in Dongjia Village who keeps dogs wants to breed a litter with their female dog. They’ve been asking around for a good-looking male dog. I don’t know who spread the word, but somehow it got back to Dager.”

Reminded by her, Huo Feng added, “That’s right. Hu-zi’s dad asked if it was possible. He wants you to go down the mountain and relay the message so he can reply to the man.”

Yan Qi couldn’t help but ask, “Has Dager ever sired puppies before?”

Most hunters in the village who raised good hunting dogs would breed them. If you owned a female dog, it was easy—you could keep a few puppies, and give the extra ones away to acquaintances or sell them.

If you owned a male dog, you could usually ask the owner of a female dog for a mate.

This topic brought worry to Huo Ling’s face, while Huo Feng just laughed.

“No, we haven’t. People have asked before. Erling wanted to leave Dager some offspring, too—maybe keep one down at the house to guard it. But it never worked out.”

“Why not?”

Huo Ling glanced at the hopeless Dager and sighed. ” Who knows? Either the female dog wasn’t interested in him, or he wasn’t interested in her. They were locked in the same kennel all night and still didn’t mate.

This later became a joke, with people saying Huo Ling’s dogs, like Huo Ling himself, were destined to be bachelors.

But to be fair, if a suitable mate were found, Huo Ling would still want Dager to go.

That night in the west room, the couple brought up the topic again. Huo Ling said to his husband, “As long as the female dog is decent, the puppies Dager produces won’t be weaklings. We’ll take one home, train it properly, and when I take Dager into the mountains, the little one can stay with you. That way I’ll feel more at ease.”

Yan Qi pondered this, his mind growing animated. He rolled over on the pillow, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “If we could get one that looks like Dager, that would be quite something.”

Huo Ling looked into the ger’s bright eyes. Even with the lamp extinguished, their radiance couldn’t be dimmed. It was clear he was genuinely pleased.

“A litter has several pups. One is bound to resemble its father.”

He paused, then asked, “What did that hunting dog you kept back home look like?”

That was the dog the ger had mentioned on the day they met. Yan Qi turned sideways, propping his head on one hand as he reminisced, “It was a big dog, named Dahuang. All four paws were white, with black tips on its ears and tail. “

”Four hooves treading snow.“

After Huo Ling said this, Yan Qi chuckled, ”Yeah, that’s when I learned that saying. My dad used to repeat it constantly, from when I was little all the way through.”

He then recounted many more stories about Dahuang to Huo Ling, concluding, “Later, my father said Dahuang was blessed—he never went hungry his whole life, and he passed away at the right time… Had he lived two more years, even if buried in the ground, someone would have dug him up.”

He also felt fortunate that his family never kept another dog after that. Otherwise, even if they could protect it themselves, who knows if others might try to harm it just to survive.

During famine years, people ate everything they could find—even the bark was stripped clean from the trees on the mountains.

As the ger spoke, he drifted off to sleep. Huo Ling raised the back of his hand, gently wiping away the tiny droplet at the corner of his eye.

He knew every word spoken was about Dahuang, yet the thoughts running through his mind went far beyond that.

His husband had once had a warm and lively home.