Chapter 5

The Australian mini donkey stared with its cute big eyes at Han Baobao.

The little donkey was very clean, with a brownish-gray coat. Its snout and round belly were a milky yellow, and a small golden bell hung from its neck, jingling as it walked.

Its long ears stood up high, seemingly feeling uneasy from being surrounded by so many people, and it quietly hid behind Han Baobao.

It tilted its head to sniff the comforting scent of this human, finally feeling at ease.

Han Xuan was already charmed by it, and the passersby around him had similar expressions. One passerby, curious, whispered, "What is this? A Falabella miniature horse? So cute."

A companion passerby looked at him with a dumbfounded expression and slowly said, "Have you ever seen a horse with such long ears? It's clearly a donkey."

In the 1990s, Australian mini donkeys were not as famous as they would be in the future. However, the similar Falabella miniature horses were well-known in America. Their ultra-small size and adorable appearance quickly made them precious pets.

Some people who had raised horses all their lives had never seen such a small one. Upon closer inspection, they realized, oh, it's a donkey.

The habit of gathering to watch the spectacle wasn't unique to China; these foreigners also surrounded the street in layers. The little fat donkey was somewhat frightened and tried to hide behind Han Xuan.

However, Han Baobao was also a small figure, not much bigger than the mini donkey. No problem, as long as he could cover his eyes, that was enough! Didn't ostriches in Australia do the same thing?

Han Baobao turned around, reached out to touch the little fat donkey's big head, and found the long fur to be very soft. He curiously turned his head to look around, trying to find its owner. Give it back? No way, such a cute thing must be bought and taken home to play with!

Besides, this was a market. If the owner didn't want to sell it, he wouldn't have brought it here.

Thinking about it, almost all the horses in his own ranch were tall American Paint Horses and even taller Quarter Horses. Given his growth rate, he wouldn't be able to ride a horse for at least ten years.

Han Baobao lowered his head and chuckled. Isn't this a horse? And it even came to him.

The little fat donkey seemed to sense something, its body stiffening. All it heard was the boy's voice saying, "Fatten it up a bit more, just right..."

A nearby patrol officer thought there might be a fight and hurriedly rode over, struggling to squeeze through the crowd. He immediately spotted the child and the little donkey.

He waved his hand to disperse the crowd, "Alright, alright, everyone scatter! It's just a miniature horse."

The crowd looked at the officer with deep meaning, then dispersed in groups to do their own things.

The internet was just beginning, and life was far less colorful than in the future. A bit of gossip and odd news would become people's dinner conversation, especially such a cute little animal.

At this moment, a black young man shouted from a distance to the officer, "Sir, have you seen a little donkey?"

"Donkey?"

The officer finally understood the meaning of those people's gazes, his face turning slightly red. He looked at the black youth unhappily, "It's right here! Black kid! Take care of your damn donkey!"

If it were twenty years later, the officer wouldn't dare speak to him like that, or a racial discrimination charge would be slapped on him. But it was 1990, and the black youth, though clearly unhappy, gritted his teeth and nodded, indicating he had heard.

The officer got back on his police car and left without looking back.

The black youth hurried to the mini donkey, ignoring its resistance, and hugged its big head in his arms, spitting out a long string of words like a machine gun, "Big baby, you really made me worry."

He seemed to remember something, looked up in the direction the officer had disappeared, spat, and then noticed the little boy.

It had to be said that Baobao was indeed lovable, and like the Chinese, they were both minority groups here. The black youth relaxed and said to the little boy, "Sorry, uncle has to take the little donkey back. Little boy, do you have anything else?"

"Yes, sir, can I buy this mini donkey?" Han Xuan asked.

The black youth's eyes darted around, "You probably can't afford this little guy. You'll have to wait until you earn money or get your family's permission. 5000 dollars, just 5000 dollars, and you can take it away."

At this moment, his gaze clearly fell on Han Qianshan. A middle-aged Chinese man with a Chinese child, even a fool could see they were related.

Han Baobao was secretly delighted. As long as it was for sale, that was fine. However, his face suddenly changed, looking sad at the black youth, "But my dad only has 2000 dollars, uncle, I really want this little donkey."

"Huh, this brat."

Han Qianshan looked at his son in surprise, then understood.

He didn't interrupt, instantly putting on a sad expression, nodding and saying, "We won't buy it, okay? Dad can't afford it, but I'll work hard to earn money and buy it for you in the future."

Han Xuan pouted, "Not in the future, I want this one."

His eyes even welled up, as if he would cry if his dad said no. What a dramatic father-son act.

The black youth was immediately in a dilemma. Forget 5000, for most Americans today, even 2000 dollars was a lot. Only the Chinese liked to save money and pay in cash.

This was a rare big deal, and the little donkey was smuggled in, costing almost nothing.

Thinking about it, he pretended to weigh his options for a while, then gritted his teeth and said, "3000! Just 3000 dollars, and you can take it away!"

"Uncle, but we only have this much money, really can't it be done?"

Han Xuan walked to his father's side, tugging at his sleeve, looking back with a reluctant expression.

The black youth was immediately anxious, quickly saying, "Alright, little guy, 2000 dollars, but I want cash!"

Han Qianshan, who was already into the act, pretended to be very troubled. The young man was almost jumping with impatience. Han Xuan tugged at his father's sleeve, continuing to pout, "Daddy, please buy it, I promise to be good at home."

Han Qianshan looked down at his son's little face, teasing, "Really, baby?"

"Uh-huh!" Han Xuan nodded quickly, secretly cursing his unscrupulous old man.

"Alright."

Old Barton promptly handed a stack of Franklins to Han Xuan, exactly 2000 dollars, which he had counted and prepared in advance. In the old cowboy's view, the young master was very smart.

Han Xuan casually handed the money to the young man, then hugged the little fat donkey, saying cutely, "Can I go now, uncle?"

"Uh-huh."

"Eh? Which poor family spends 2000 dollars on a pet for their child? And who is that old man giving the money?"

It took a long time for the young man to react, wishing he could vomit three liters of blood. He muttered, "Turns out he's a rich man, money... kid, you..."

Not far away.

"Haha, young master, you're really amazing! You saved 3000 dollars!" Old Barton laughed, his big nose twitching, clearly very excited. In America, prices were generally fixed, and even if there was a discount, it was only a small part, not like now, where more than half was cut.

It wasn't about being short of money; it was all for the fun. What interesting Chinese people.

Old Barton thought, wondering if he should try it someday.

Yeah... just need a grandson to help, the old cowboy's eyes subconsciously looked at his side.

Han Qianshan held Baobao's hand, and Baobao held the donkey's lead, the little bell ringing all the way, the sound very clear.

The market was open-air.

The ranchers sat modestly by their fences, not trying to attract customers at all.

Occasionally, someone would come to inquire, and they would then answer a few words.

Angus cattle were relatively small compared to other breeds, and their selling price was much lower. Therefore, on Old Barton and John's advice, Han Qianshan planned to raise some other breeds this time, such as the beautiful Simmental cattle.

Simmental cattle, also known as red-spotted cattle, are a breed from Switzerland. Their coats are a mix of white and yellow spots. They can be used for meat, and each cow can produce up to four tons of milk annually. Adult cows weigh about 1200 kilograms, and their meat is very good.

The rancher had a small mustache that curled upward, dressed in a style that didn't look American but more British.

He was very enthusiastic and smart. Seeing someone approach, he spoke in a thick London accent, "What a cute child! And this cute Australian donkey, I've been in America for so long, and it's my first time seeing them."

"Thank you for your praise, sir."

"You're very polite."

The rancher then extended his hand to Han Qianshan, "I'm Albert, nice to meet you, sir. Are you here to buy cattle?"

Han Qianshan also politely extended his hand.

"Call me Han. Yes, we need a batch of half-grown Simmental cattle. They look very well-raised, and the experienced Mr. Barton has his eye on them. How many calves do you have?"

Albert immediately knew he had a big customer. Shaking hands with Old Barton, he praised, "You have a good eye. The calves in my ranch are the best!"

He continued, "Sir, how many cattle does your ranch need? I can currently provide about 500. If that's not enough, give me two days, and I can gather more. Rest assured, the price will be fair! We British never lie in business."

"Whoever believes that is a fool."

Han Qianshan shook his head, "I'll have to see your farm first. I might also need about 1300 Angus cattle."

Albert was overjoyed, not expecting such a big deal right at the start. He nodded quickly, "Sir, rest assured! I'll call my two neighbors, and together we'll have enough for you to choose from. Please wait a few minutes, I'll be right back!"

He ran off without looking back and soon returned with two white ranchers, driving to their ranches.

The calves in Albert's ranch were indeed well-raised. Old Barton and John carefully selected them, replacing any unhealthy ones. They worked until it was completely dark.

With the help of a lawyer, they signed the contract and left a 200,000-dollar check as a deposit.

They politely declined Albert's invitation to stay for dinner and drove the Ford pickup with its yellow headlights along the original route back to Snow Mountain Ranch.

The little fat donkey lay on its side, sleeping in the back seat.

Han Xuan rested his head on its belly, dozing off and soon fell asleep.

Outside the car window, the sky was full of stars, and a faint green could be seen.

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