Chapter 7

The sun hung high in the sky, and a warm spring breeze swept across the grassland, bringing a vibrant scene to life. Cattle and sheep were scattered throughout the Snow Mountain Farm, looking particularly relaxed. There was an abundance of fresh and succulent grass; they had just finished eating the tips of the grass today, and by tomorrow, new shoots would sprout again.

This peaceful scene did not last long. Today, the tranquil farm became noisy as large trucks rolled over the dirt roads, raising clouds of dust from a distance.

The Angus and Simmental calves purchased a few days ago had finally arrived. They were all young calves that would need to be fed for a whole year to become plump.

Four trucks made several trips back and forth, finally managing to transport over two thousand calves before the sun set. The mooing of the calves echoed continuously.

They were divided into batches in the pens, and they would have to be quarantined for a few days to ensure their health before they could be merged with the existing herd. The cowboys did not want the farm to suffer any unnecessary losses.

The calves did not feel constrained, as they were hungrily enjoying the lush and succulent grass. It was truly delicious, wasn't it?

There were also three adult cows in the Simmental herd, which Albert had generously gifted. They would play a leading role, helping the young calves quickly adapt to their new environment.

However, it seemed to have little effect. Those three were so engrossed in eating that they had almost swallowed their tongues. If they could speak, they would surely raise their hooves and shout, "This must be the best grass we've ever eaten in our four-year lives! Hey, kid by the fence, give us another two pounds!"

Han Xuan leaned on the fence, a blade of grass in his mouth, watching the adults busily working. His eyes were full of smiles, and he could feel the joy of the herd.

Maidou chased after a colorful butterfly behind him, wagging his tail happily, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He occasionally stumbled and rolled, then stood up again. Indeed, he looked just like a dog.

"It seems I can't let him stay with the Labradors anymore," the young Han Xuan thought, jumping off the fence and patting the dust off his clothes, then skipping towards the small wooden house.

Mother Guo and a few other women were returning from the vegetable garden. The lettuce in other gardens had just sprouted, but here, they were already visible, thanks to the greenhouses.

Today was Han Qianshan's 31st birthday, and a barbecue party would be held on the lawn in front of the yard in the evening.

Parties are very common in North America; any small event can bring a large group of people together. Whether it's a happy or sad occasion, a wedding celebration, or even a funeral, such activities accompany Americans throughout their lives.

The Snow Mountain Farm was relatively reserved, hosting only a few parties a year, which made life rather dull. This was, of course, the opinion of the neighboring ranchers, who had also received invitations and were preparing to leave home.

They usually wouldn't arrive so early to avoid embarrassing the host, but they clearly had no such concerns. After nearly a decade of interaction, Han Qianshan had developed quite good relationships with them.

There was no need to dress formally like in New York; neat attire was sufficient.

Of course, exquisite pastries or small gifts were essential, demonstrating the guests' sincerity. Sometimes, a bottle of wine would suffice. The party was also a time for the female hosts to showcase their culinary skills, with bread and pastries being the best way to do so.

Thus, not only were the guests busy baking at home, but Han's mother also put on an apron to show off her skills. She was the best cook in the area and couldn't afford to lose face.

The farm never lacked cattle and sheep. For today's party, a cow was sent to the slaughterhouse early in the morning. It was lively when it left but returned as delicious food.

A thousand-pound beast, after being butchered, still weighed over six hundred pounds. The meat was well-marbled, and the best cuts of beef, with their intricate fat patterns, earned the women's praise.

The ranchers, however, remained expressionless, inwardly envious. Most of them came from centuries-old ranches, and none would admit that their beef was inferior to that of a rancher who had only been in the business for a few years.

Even if it was true, they had to endure the frustration, feigning calm and nodding in approval.

Han Qianshan was greeting the guests, and seeing their expressions, he couldn't help but laugh. What was with those constipated looks...

The barbecue grills were already set up, with seven or eight of them.

Pastries were being placed on the long table, along with the food brought by the guests.

A group of children, ranging from a few years old to teenagers, played together, seemingly very happy. It was hard to find playmates of the same age in such a sparsely populated area.

Han Xuan, not wanting to play with them, had wandered around the farm alone. Who would see a man in his twenties playing a game of cops and robbers with children?

The young Han Xuan thought to himself, but in his parents' eyes, he was still a seven-year-old child, and they always encouraged him to make more friends, which was quite troublesome.

He dragged his feet back home, with the obedient Maidou following him, the little bell jingling all the way. As soon as he reached the yard gate, he heard his father's voice: "Son, go greet the guests. They've been asking about you."

"Again," Han Xuan nodded helplessly, "Okay, Dad, I'll take care of them."

The group of teenagers didn't mind his mature demeanor and gathered around, chattering excitedly: "Han! Last time, my dad took me home before you finished the story! Can you tell us again?"

He was from the Augsburg Ranch, about ten kilometers away, the closest neighbor, a handsome Latin boy named Balzer.

"Exactly! It was so exciting!"

"Brother, I want to hear it, I want to hear it!"

The voices of boys and girls mixed together, and Han Xuan's head was about to explode. He shouted, "Alright! But stop pulling my pants, hey, where are you touching!"

A slender little hand quickly retracted, having grabbed the wrong place...

Han Xuan sat cross-legged on the grass, with over a dozen children sitting in front of him, looking like an old monk reciting scriptures. His young voice slowly echoed: "‘Welcome to Hogwarts,’ Professor McGonagall said, ‘The welcoming feast is about to begin, but before you enter the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your houses...’”

The children stared with wide eyes.

Under the eaves, Han Qianshan smiled at the scene, while the other ranchers looked at their children, feeling a mix of emotions, unsure of what to think.

"If the ranch can't compare, why does my son... sigh..." The strong breath he exhaled could cause a sandstorm in China half a month later.

The sky soon turned dark, and the dried grapevines began to burn, the best wood for grilling. Plates of tender beef and mutton, even in a foreign country, exuded a delicate charm.

The barbecue grills sizzled, the meat rich in fat, requiring no additional oil. The air quickly filled with a delicious aroma.

The children, urged by the adults, reluctantly stood up, their expressions filled with longing.

Han Xuan finally breathed a sigh of relief, cleared his throat, which was already hoarse, and wrapped two slices of beef in lettuce, sprinkled with cumin, and took a big bite, feeling relieved.

How could a party be without good wine? The farm had a small vineyard, and the wine produced there, though not top-tier, had a very pleasant taste. The guests were very satisfied, as evidenced by their laughter and cheers, wishing Han Qianshan a happy birthday and raising their glasses to drink.

The cowboys' wildness needed no hiding, and the children looked at their glasses enviously, wondering what secrets they held. They would have to wait until they grew up to find out.

Despite the busyness, Han's mother's smile could not be hidden. The quick disappearance of the food was the best reward for her.

Maidou ran around the crowd, and both adults and children liked him. After eating lettuce leaves and carrots, his big face was beaming, and he kept rubbing against Han Xuan.

As the night deepened, the party continued until around ten o'clock.

The guests cleaned up the yard before leaving, staggering to their cars, looking like they would need their wives to drive. The endless grassland had no other vehicles, so there was no worry about accidents. As for drunk driving, with no one around, who would check?

The children made promises to continue the story next time, satisfied as they headed home, completely unaware of the resentment in the storyteller, Han Xuan.

Old Barton and John, not feeling at ease, went to check on the calves again, carrying long-barreled shotguns. The grassland was not as peaceful as it seemed.

Back in the room, the young Han Xuan stripped off his clothes, washing away the smell of the barbecue, with Maidou, who was reluctant, joining him.

After drying their fur, the two little ones climbed into bed. Han Baby hugged Maidou, smelling the fresh soap scent, and soon fell asleep.

Another beautiful day awaited them.