Chang’an was not suitable for Na Rimu. A wildflower from the grasslands could never survive within high walls and grand courtyards. There were no familiar pastures or cattle and sheep there, only a single patch of azure sky visible above the courtyard. Simple, kind-hearted, yet full of untamed spirit, she would only quietly wither away in the bustling city of Chang’an.
She was a daughter of the grasslands—born there, raised there, and destined to rest there. This was the best fate for her.
Yun Ye had prepared for her a vast world where she could gallop freely. With blue skies, white clouds, green grass, and cattle and sheep as companions, perhaps it could ease her pain.
“This is your pasture distribution map. It’s at the foot of Yin Mountain, covering a hundred li in all directions. The water and grass are abundant there, the climate is mild—it’s the finest pastureland. You can take those young people and herd livestock there.” Yun Ye pulled out the documents from his chest and placed them before Na Rimu.
Huan Niang translated Yun Ye’s words sentence by sentence for Na Rimu to hear. The more she heard, the more tears streamed down her face, eventually flowing in a small stream down from her pointed chin.
Pain was inevitable. Yun Ye could only harden his heart and continue: “You need to give your tribe a name now, then fill it in on the document, and that will be it. These documents will take effect immediately. You don’t need to worry about other tribes coming to seize your pasture—I’ve already spoken to the garrison troops here. Once they discover any threat, just tell them and someone will naturally come to handle it. You won’t need to take action yourselves; you just need to herd livestock properly. For the extra cattle, sheep, and horses, I’ll send people before winter arrives each year to trade with you—for tea, salt, cloth, grain, and of course some iron implements. Additionally, every April when the weather gradually warms, you must shear all the wool from the sheep. If the experiment succeeds, I believe just the wool sheared annually will be enough to support your small tribe.”
After finishing this long speech, Yun Ye stopped and waited for Huan Niang to explain to Na Rimu.
“You, not leave!” Na Rimu hadn’t listened to anything Huan Niang said. She grabbed Yun Ye’s arm and shook it vigorously.
“Me, herd sheep. You, sleep.” Perhaps Na Rimu thought that doing nothing, eating one’s fill, and sleeping in a tent was the happiest thing in this world, so she unhesitatingly offered the highest price she could.
Yun Ye gently embraced Na Rimu, then nodded to Huan Niang, released Na Rimu, and left the tent. He hadn’t walked more than two steps when heart-wrenching sobs came from behind him.
After a moment’s hesitation, Yun Ye strode forward again to find He Shao.
Old He had hired a full three hundred auxiliary soldiers who were busy converting sleds into ox carts. There was no need to worry about the crudeness of the carts because he had enough cattle to pull them. But there was one small problem: the free-range cattle from the grasslands didn’t know how to pull carts. They were extremely lacking in organization and discipline—stopping to nibble at grass roots one moment, standing motionless the next, refusing to budge even when whipped. This bucket of cold water instantly doused Old He’s burning enthusiasm for making a fortune.
Watching a castrated bull he had raised to be sleek and glossy overturn an ox cart, he clutched his head and squatted on the ground, completely at a loss and quite pitiful.
There were too many goods and too few horse carts. His storage warehouses now numbered four. The white snow on the grasslands was melting, and the ground that had been hard as iron became damp and wet, with some places even turning into swamps. Four heavy snowfalls over winter would bring abundant water resources to the grasslands after melting. This year’s grass would surely grow well—good news for the grassland herders, but a disaster for Yun Ye and Old He who were about to embark on a long journey.
The grasslands had no roads in the traditional sense. As long as you wanted, you could walk wherever you pleased, provided your direction was correct. Once that problem was solved, you would always reach your destination.
Bulls needed to learn how to pull carts? This was the question Yun Ye asked Sun Simiao. The result was being scorned by Tang Jian, Xu Jingzong, and Sun Simiao together.
“Here we see another case of ‘why don’t they eat meat when they have no grain?’ And we see two such people at once! When this old man returns to Chang’an, I must ask my worthless son this question. If he gives the same answer, I’ll take harsh measures to clean up the family disgrace.”
Tang Jian spoke with heartfelt pain, looking at Yun Ye and Old He as if viewing two piles of excrement.
Old Sun was kindhearted and carefully explained to Yun Ye the living habits of cattle. A calf, from the moment it was born, needed to follow behind an old bull to learn how to pull carts, plow fields, turn millstones—various work skills. Under the old bull’s subtle influence, when the calf grew up, it would naturally learn these things too. The cattle on the grasslands lacked such experience. Accustomed to running wild, they would naturally feel uncomfortable when harnessed to carts now—no wonder they couldn’t pull properly.
“Every child in Great Tang knows these principles. Why don’t you?” Sun Simiao found it inconceivable.
What could Yun Ye say? That the cattle he’d seen most were the black-and-white spotted dairy cows? In those thirty vanished years, he’d barely seen bulls pulling carts a few times. Tractors belching black smoke ran everywhere—who would need to sit in an ox cart slowly traveling from east to west? When his family used a bull to plow one mu of land, others had already plowed dozens of mu with tractors. In that era, cattle were for producing milk or being slaughtered for meat. Except for the elderly, who would know about such things?
Speaking of traditions, Yun Ye remembered another famous tradition that would be perfect for solving the current difficulty. He pulled Old He up from the ground and whispered in his ear. After listening, He Shao’s expression instantly shifted from bewilderment to wild joy.
Flashing a big fierce grin at Sun Simiao and the others, he shook his sleeves, called over several auxiliary soldiers, had them lead the bulls, and told them to follow him behind the tent.
“An old bull won’t drink water—can you really force its head down to make it drink?” Xu Jingzong asked Yun Ye with furrowed brows. Tang Jian nodded in agreement. Sun Simiao had witnessed Yun Ye’s ability to turn decay into wonder many times, so his eyes showed uncertainty but he didn’t echo their doubts.
“The old saying goes well: ‘Force a bull’s head down to drink.’ This saying is correct. Past failures were because the force pressing the bull’s head wasn’t strong enough. Once you have sufficient force, even the most stubborn bull will have to drink under that power’s control.” Accompanying Yun Ye’s supremely confident words, a bull’s bellow came from behind the tent. Just from that sound, one could tell the bull was suffering the most terrible torture.
The group was collectively startled and rushed behind the tent. They saw a castrated bull bound to a frame with only its large head exposed. A fierce-faced auxiliary soldier held a thin iron rod heated red-hot and thrust it at the soft cartilage between the bull’s two nostrils. Amid swirling smoke, the bull let out another anguished cry. Its four hooves kicked frantically, but with nowhere to gain purchase, it could only shake its head back and forth hoping to reduce the pain. Someone nearby threaded a small iron ring through the freshly burned hole and hung it on the bull’s nose.
This bestial act made Sun Simiao’s eyes nearly split with rage. He pointed at He Shao and cursed furiously: “Stop! You beast! This bull is only acting according to its nature—what does it know? How dare you inflict such cruelty upon it! Where is your humanity? Come, come, come—let this old Daoist hang an iron ring through your nostrils too and let you taste this suffering!”
“Daoist Sun, please calm your anger for now. Let’s first see whether this method works. If it works, this could be cause for celebration among all the farmers in the realm. If it doesn’t work, you can still flay his skin—it won’t be too late.” Yun Ye hypocritically tried to placate Sun Simiao.
The old Daoist’s heart was made of tofu—he couldn’t bear to see any living creature suffer. Piercing a bull’s nose was such cruel torture that if he hadn’t seen it, it would be one thing, but once he witnessed it, how could he not intervene? Earlier, Yun Ye had told He Shao to do this far away, but who knew this thoughtless fool would start impatiently right behind the tent?
Yun Ye’s attempt to mediate only made things worse. Sun Simiao shoved him aside and pointed at Yun Ye’s nose for another round of scolding: “Wasn’t it you who came up with this wicked idea? What good person are you trying to play now? Your heart is so viciously cruel—what face do you have to teach students at the academy? Even if the students you teach are all brilliant talents, they’re just individual scourges. The greater their abilities, the more severe the harm they cause.”
Sun Simiao was fully qualified to interrogate Yun Ye like this. Apart from being full of inappropriate timing, Tang Jian could barely count as an upright gentleman, so his face full of indignation was understandable. But why was Xu Jingzong—that ancient schemer—also putting on the appearance of a moral superior, standing together with Sun Simiao and Tang Jian, loudly rebuking He Shao? He even rushed forward to untie the old bull, stroking its back with a face full of pity, as if it wasn’t a bull that had suffered torture but his own wife.
Yun Ye didn’t know whether future animal protection organizations would convict him, but at least now the label of “bull abuser” couldn’t be escaped. Old Sun pulled out medicinal ointment from his chest and carefully applied it to the bull’s nose. Yun Ye felt Old Sun’s movements were even gentler than when he’d applied ointment to Yun Ye before. Were bulls more precious than people? He didn’t know what illness these people suffered from.
Taking advantage of their quieting down, Yun Ye ordered the auxiliary soldiers to bring over an ox cart. After much coaxing and persuading, he finally convinced Sun Simiao to let the bull try again.
A thin leather cord threaded through the bull’s nose ring was held by an auxiliary soldier. With a light pat on the bull’s rump, it began walking forward. The soldier used the leather cord in his hand to control the direction of the bull’s head. It made a large, steady circuit around the camp. The bull was very compliant and obedient—when told to walk, it walked; when told to stop, it stopped. Only its large eyes streamed with tears, and blood also dripped from its nostrils.
Seeing it was effective, Sun Simiao sighed deeply and returned to his own tent with difficult steps. After all, he understood that bulls existed to serve people—the more obedient, naturally the better. From the results, he was powerless to prevent this and could only feel sorrowful and hurt.
“Marquis Yun, why don’t we jointly submit a memorial using this matter of piercing bulls’ noses as the subject—what do you think?” Tang Jian’s righteous air disappeared and transformed into that of a noble person concerned for country and people: “Just a small modification makes castrated bulls so docile—this is truly something that benefits the present and brings merit for a thousand generations. Using this method, meat cattle from the grasslands can potentially be converted into plow oxen. Marquis Yun’s wisdom leaves this old man far behind.”
“How can such a grand occasion be without me, Xu Jingzong? Why don’t I take up the brush and bear witness to this matter?” Xu Jingzong’s eyes gleamed—he too wanted to get involved.