Chapter 2

Just born, the baby's brain isn't fully functional yet; thinking about things makes him tired.

His eyes can't adapt to the light either; even slightly squinting is uncomfortable, so he can only pretend to be blind and keep them closed all day.

Han Xuan always felt something was off, but he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.

For example, people around him would speak English for a while, then suddenly switch to a man and a woman speaking Chinese. The voices sounded strange, not like any dialect, but more like a foreign accent.

There were also the bleating sounds of sheep outside. "What's that noise?" A Labrador retriever licked his face with a big tongue, covering it in saliva. Immediately, a woman's scolding voice rang out, and she wiped his face with a towel.

Han Xuan could understand English (he learned it as a child when his father beat him with a stick).

The accent was very pure American, and the woman said, "Go play, Pudding, don't bully my son."

"What's Pudding, and what's a son?"

Han Xuan thought hazily. Before he could think it through, he was picked up, and he heard the woman say softly, "Good baby, it's time to drink milk, you need to grow up quickly."

"Baby, yes, I understand that. Milk... milk!"

"Turned into a baby!?"

The woman saw her son clench his fists, kick his legs, and wrinkle his face, humming continuously. She thought he was uncomfortable and changed her position to hold him again...

Soon, Han Xuan gave in. As a newborn baby, even a big baby, his strength was still too weak to resist this violent behavior.

"So humiliating, so sad, when will this end..."

Before he could think further, sleepiness overcame him again.

About ten days later, when the new mother could walk, the young nurse Bella returned, and Han Qianshan personally drove her to the city of Big Falls.

No longer needing care, the couple found that taking care of their son was surprisingly easy, nothing like what others said about the difficulties, such as bedwetting or crying at night.

Thinking of Bella's surprised expression when she left, Han's mother felt quite pleased.

Their son would make sounds when he needed to urinate or was hungry. The beige Labrador retriever, Pudding, who had licked his face with saliva, would immediately find the woman or the man to solve the problem.

He didn't cry much either. Most of the time, the baby would lie there playing with his fingers or thinking about life, looking very serious, which was quite amusing.

Sunlight filtered through the birch forest, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of yellow leaves, looking very beautiful from a distance.

In the yard surrounded by a fence, the grass extended from the door. A lone Angus cow was grazing, its body very strong.

Under the eaves of the small wooden house, Han Xuan was held by his mother, his small eyes darting around, a scene he had never seen in his previous life in the city.

The cold air from northern Canada was about to move south, and the alfalfa flowers had been harvested, leaving short roots to be stored as winter feed for the cattle and sheep.

New seeds had already been sown, and next spring, the fields would be green again.

In over a month, Han Xuan had come to understand many things.

It was 1983, clearly written on the calendar hanging on the pine wall, and the "high-end" 19-inch black-and-white TV at home also confirmed this fact.

The woman holding him now was named Guo Feng, and his father, Han Qianshan, who herded the sheep with the cowboys, was also a Chinese-American, whose ancestors had come to America in their grandfather's generation.

Their ancestors were from Jiangsu. During the war, when there wasn't enough food, they happened to meet the need for workers to build the railway in America. They crossed the ocean with their families and settled here.

By the time of this generation, they could read and write Chinese, but their lifestyle was similar to that of Americans.

The older generation could endure hardship, and through two generations of effort, they had accumulated considerable wealth.

Chinese people like to buy land, which has become an "instinctive desire" written into our genes.

A few years ago, when this couple got married, they could be considered childhood sweethearts. They decided to buy this 20,000-acre Snow Mountain Ranch, abbreviated as S-M-R Ranch, which means Snow Mountain Ranch in Chinese.

On the edge of the Flathead National Forest, looking back from the house, one could indeed see a range of snow-capped mountains, which the elders found fitting. The couple also liked it, so they kept the original name.

Han Xuan's grandparents and in-laws from California were rushing to Montana, having been delayed and unable to see their grandson earlier.

Whenever the family history was being taught, Han Xuan would listen with wide eyes, enjoying it. His father, who hadn't expected to be interrogated by his new son, would still talk to himself even though he knew the baby couldn't understand.

With the baby's serious expression, the interaction between the two was very harmonious, and Guo's mother would laugh on the side.

Occasionally, Han Xuan would feel sad, wondering if his father from his previous life would be heartbroken.

But when he thought about it, it was already 1983, and his father might still be playing in the mud with his pants down in the corner! This thought made him feel much better.

He yawned lazily in his mother's arms, changed his position, and continued to blow bubbles. He glanced at the fence, where a group of grass mud horses galloped by, their wild and free hair blowing in the wind, looking very handsome.

Han Qianshan and Guo Feng hadn't named their one-month-old son yet, not because they didn't want to, but because the elders had given a strict order a month ago to wait for their arrival.

The couple had no choice but to give Han Xuan a nickname after much thought.

"Han! Bao! Bao!"

Han Xuan bit his lip and burst into tears.

Two more days passed. This morning, the weather was clear, and the cowboys had just herded the Angus cows to the pasture to graze.

The cows strolled leisurely, following the lead cow to the last batch of fresh grass before winter.

The others carried clean metal buckets, and later, someone would come to buy the fresh milk, which would be loaded onto trucks and transported to big city processing plants for packaging and sale. With the recent economic downturn, they occasionally made cheese, which had a longer shelf life than fresh milk.

The Snow Mountain Ranch had over 300 Holstein dairy cows, each producing 7,000 to 8,000 kilograms of milk per year. At about 3.78 liters per gallon, selling milk alone brought in over $100,000 annually.

At this time, the dollar wasn't as devalued as in later years, and the economic crisis had led to widespread unemployment in America. Of course, in an era without advanced machinery, the cost of manual milking was a significant daily expense.

It was close to noon.

The sound of a car engine echoed through the forest path, and an old Cadillac drove into the yard.

Old cowboy Barton was fixing the fence, which had been kicked by a temperamental cow a few days ago. He clearly recognized the car, put down his work, and raised his head, shouting loudly, "Hey, Han! It's great to see you, my friend! Let's go fishing by the lake when I'm free! There are some big ones in there now."

The old Cadillac Eldorado, with its aged appearance, slowly opened its doors. A 50-something Chinese man got out of the driver's seat; this was Han Xuan's grandfather, Han Qi. His grandmother was getting out of the passenger seat.

Han Xuan, of course, was meeting them for the first time. When he saw the elders, his mother carried him to the gate, smiling and shouting, "Dad, Mom, you're here! I got your call yesterday saying you were in Utah, but I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly."

"It's all because of your mother, who urged me to leave at four or five in the morning," Han Qi said with a smile, hugging and patting old Barton's back. "Hey, Barton, of course! But let's wait a few days. I want to see my grandson first!"

"He's so cute, I love him too!" Old Barton turned to Guo Feng, who was standing in front of him, and laughed loudly. "Ha, you chat, I'll continue fixing the fence. Remember to bring good wine in a few days!"

With that, he waved, patted the baby's smooth little face, and Han Qi did the same, pinching it. The feeling was so good that he didn't let go for a long time.

Han Xuan rolled his eyes helplessly, trying to stop him, but the thick clothes made it impossible. He could only resign himself to it.

The grandmother, carrying large and small bags, mostly containing children's clothes and items, lightly kicked the old man and scolded, "You have no sense of light and heavy, what if you hurt the grandson?"

At that moment, a pair of grateful, watery eyes looked at her.

The old man reluctantly let go, and the family hierarchy was clear.

The grandmother took the baby from her daughter-in-law, her face beaming with joy.

Not long after, a bright red Ferrari 250 GT convertible drove up, and a man with sunglasses waved and called out, "Hey! Grandson!"

Han Xuan turned his head and immediately widened his eyes.

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