Chapter 4

In the snowy mountain pasture, the pasture grass, nourished by the spring rain, grew much taller overnight.

Angus cattle were scattered in various corners, grazing on alfalfa, with some newborn calves among them.

Occasionally, a mother cow would lift her head to chew her cud, allowing the calves to drink milk on their own. She wanted to take advantage of this fine weather to quickly regain the fat she had lost during the winter. After all, an Angus cow that doesn't get plump isn't a good cow.

Old cowboy Barton, riding a brown and white American paint horse, rode towards the father and son who were strolling on the grassland. As he approached, he gently patted the horse's neck, pulled the reins, and the horse soon stopped. He nimbly dismounted with a side flip, showing great skill.

Even though he was nearly 60, his movements were still agile.

"Boss, good morning. What a pleasant day, isn't it?"

After saying this, Old Barton walked over, bent down, and rubbed Baby Han's fair face, then picked him up and placed him on the horse's back.

This was a gentle mare, so there was no danger. If it were an uncastrated stallion, he would never dare to do this.

Han Xuan was already too lazy to react, obediently letting himself be handled.

"As long as it's not like when I was a kid and wore open-crotch pants, everything else is fine. After all, kids have no rights. As long as you're happy, old man," Baby Han muttered to himself.

This wasn't his first time riding a horse. The small figure sat on the horse's back, his left hand gripping the edge of the saddle to keep from falling off, and playfully patted the paint horse's neck.

The paint horse thought its owner wanted it to move, but just as it lifted its leg, Old Barton grabbed the reins. Clearly, this wasn't the first time Han Xuan had done this.

"Sit still, little guy," Old Barton laughed.

Turning to Han's father, he said, "Boss, what do you think about buying more cattle and sheep? We sold quite a few before winter last year, and now we only have some breeding bulls and calves. It's a waste to have such a large pasture with so few livestock. Those lazy cowboys do nothing all day but go to town to drink, just taking your salary without working. It's really not right."

Old Barton said this responsibly.

Because he had no children and had no desire to remarry after divorcing his second wife over a decade ago, he saw this beautiful pasture as his home, a place where he could spend his twilight years in peace.

Over the years, he had come to understand the true character of the boss's family. He liked them very much, especially the smart Baby Han.

"Right, we should indeed buy a batch of beef cattle and add more dairy cows," Han Xuan's father nodded and continued, "With those milking machines, it saves a lot of time. The economy has improved a lot recently, and we don't have to worry about the situation of not being able to sell like the past two years."

"Indeed, it's a good thing that Old Han's convenience store helped sell a lot of milk and beef. Unlike other farmers who faced losses and had to pour milk into rivers, the damn President Reagan is finally out of office. I hope this Bush isn't as foolish as he was," Old Barton said with lingering fear.

"Ha, everything will be fine. The Angus beef we raised last year was very delicious. You helped me earn over two million dollars. Seeing the surprise on the buyers' faces and the envy of those around me, it's all thanks to you," Han's father praised.

Old Barton laughed, "That's what we cowboys are supposed to do. Now we only have about 1,100 cattle, including over 400 calves. They don't eat much pasture grass yet."

"20,000 acres of pasture, with the particularly tender grass here, based on my over 40 years of experience, we can feed about 7,500 cattle at full capacity. However, the quality of the Angus cattle might decline, which isn't good. It would affect our pasture's reputation. Those bloodsuckers are very picky and will harshly lower the price for any flaw."

Han's father deeply agreed. Without experience, he would have suffered many losses if not for the help of the dedicated Old Barton.

He thought for a moment and firmly shook his head, "Quality is the most important. I don't want to ruin the old brand of the Snow Mountain Pasture!"

Baby Han rolled his eyes helplessly, "You could break your fingers trying to count all the times you've said that..."

He leaned down and stroked the horse's back, and the paint horse looked content, sneezed lightly, and stood still.

Smiling, this was Baby Han's little secret.

He discovered at the age of five that animals were very close to him. Once, he sneaked out to play and encountered a gray wolf that had been expelled from its pack in the forest.

Baby Han quickly threw two sandwiches, trying to feed it to save his life. To his surprise, the gray wolf had no intention of attacking him and even seemed to show friendliness. After eating, it walked alone into the forest.

This ability became more evident as he grew older. Now, he could communicate simply with animals, even if he could only understand their general emotions, it was enough.

In the past two years, before selling the Angus cattle, Baby Han would secretly sneak into the cattle shed to comfort them. When they were happy, the pasture grass was better, and the cattle and sheep naturally grew fat and black, which is why the prices were so high.

His father was happily fooled, thinking he had a natural talent for farming.

Now, Baby Han had become the little leader of the pasture animals. Various llamas would fawn over him, rubbing their big yellow teeth against him, looking as if they were being perverted by a man who had taken liberties with a beautiful woman.

Although he didn't have the supernatural abilities of the protagonists in other books, who became all-powerful after being reborn, Baby Han could still hold his head high and be proud.

Looking up, he saw his father and Old Barton, along with the newly joined Old John, chatting enthusiastically about which cattle breeds were the best. At that moment, the naughty baby was thinking, "Beg me, beg me, and I'll help you choose."

"Why do I have to use 'baby'?" the young man thought with a chill.

The next day was Sunday, and there was no school.

Several tutors, including a German female professor in her forties who taught advanced mathematics, went to the city of Big Falls to shop. Although the pasture was quiet and comfortable, not everyone could adapt to life there, and they sometimes longed for city life.

Han Xuan got up early with difficulty, finishing his preparations by six and getting ready to leave. Today was the day to go to town to buy cattle and sheep.

The Ford pickup truck drove along the straight road, which was very flat. The scenery didn't change for dozens of kilometers, all grassland and livestock, with a few isolated houses here and there.

Shoto town was very lively today, with people from a hundred-kilometer radius who had extra cattle and sheep to sell all coming here.

They carefully selected the best calves as samples for reference. If the price was right, they could go to the seller's place to pick them out.

The market would last for three days. Some ranchers were lucky and sold out early, just waiting to arrange transportation to their ranches, collect the final payment, and celebrate, looking forward to another bountiful harvest in six months.

This was Baby Han's first time here, and the bustling crowd made him feel like he was back in China.

The narrow roads outside the town were full of cars, and further ahead, they were already congested. Old John had to park the pickup truck by the roadside. Han's father held Baby Han with one hand, worried he might get lost in the crowd.

Occasionally, women in the market would point at Han Xuan, looking at him with intense eyes as if they recognized him. This left Baby Han puzzled, and he wiped his face, thinking he might have gotten something on it.

Han's father noticed his confusion and laughed, "Hey, son, they're looking at you, the little prodigy!"

His words were filled with pride, as if his son's success was at least partly due to him.

Old Barton was loudly greeting people on the roadside, who he seemed to know. Hearing the father and son talking, he turned around and laughed, "Kid, you don't know how famous you are, do you? You're a genius, a real genius!"

His loud voice attracted the attention of many passersby, who quickly recognized the little boy.

"Is that Han? Are you Han?" a woman across the street asked, and Old Barton nodded proudly.

Suddenly, a youth of about 14 or 15 years old sneered, as if recalling some sad memory, and glared at Han Xuan.

Baby Han was both amused and exasperated, never expecting to become someone else's "other people's child."

"Dad, I can walk by myself."

Han's father was a bit worried but finally said, "Okay, but I'll hold your hand."

"O...K."

Baby Han had only taken a few steps when he suddenly felt something pulling him. Turning his head, he saw a small donkey, shorter than him, biting his clothes.

"Is this... an Australian mini donkey?" Han's father asked, unsure.

The gray donkey, less than 50 centimeters tall, stared intently at Baby Han. When it saw he had noticed, it suddenly grinned, showing a human-like smile.

The crowd was stunned.