The sunshine of the blissful spring ��(ji��)�x

������21���o(j��)�Ї���(d��ng)���ČW(xu��)���졤����݋����(b��o)����������Ӣ����������In early spring, it was still cold on Hulunbuir grassland. Hass certainly knew that the best choice for such season would be a down jacket for it is light, soft, and warm. However, it was not something proud of walking around the grassland in any other clothes than a traditional Mongolian robe, which was the most appropriate clothes that could truly demonstrate the spirit of a herdsman. Without pausing he went straight to the long-distance bus station. When waiting for the bus he gave his son a phone call.��������"Son, I'm getting on the bus back to the grassland... I've some thing to ask you. You didn't throw away that case of the old carriage when building the tourists' yurt, did you?"����"Your Majesty, how could I dare to do that? I've always kept your order in mind and dared not touch those ancestors' items at all. They're all in the old yurt. Now if you officially allow me to display it in the new tourists' yurt, I'm sure our family's tourism business will get a huge boost, both economically and culturally...The young man, having watched lots of TV dramas, had become a little glib-tongued.����"I remind you, you're a herdsman's son, not that of any tourist. Speak Mongolian to me��" Hass was exasperated, giving his son an admonishment.����The lad immediately switched to Mongolian, explaining to his father that he was thinking about consulting with him about the case. The young man said, that old case was caught sight of by some tourists and immensely impressed them with the white birch skin pyrographs and wicker-woven patterns on its surface. The tourists all took pictures of it, believing that it featured some traditional Mongolian art forms that no one today could reproduce.����Hass returned to his farm deep in the grassland and found that the old case lying in the yurt still where he used to live. It had been indeed well polished by his son, so much that it shone. The iron lock remained as it was before, but after so many years it was about to be rusted out.����"A bunch of tourists asked me to give them a quote for the case and they are willing to pay at any price. But I just told them straight away that I'd first need my father's approval..." the young man asked tentatively, looking at his father.����Hass ignored his son and put a drop of oil extracted from cow marrow into the lock hole and heated it over fire for a good while. Later on, he began repeatedly inserting the key into the hole. Finally, the heavy lock opened.����The case housed items which put in by Hass' mother when she was alive. Since her death, it had been under the care of Hass's wife, Shandan. Three years ago, Shandan died and after that no one had touched the case again. Inside the case, on top were a few pieces of neatly stacked wool fabric, each had a characteristic of that era�� rough, duck, and purely wool-made. They were materials for making wintry Mongolian robes. The case also contained a pair of black woman boots featuring delicate handmade patterns, which obviously were a work by Hass' mother for she was famous on the grassland for her exquisite embroidery After the Campaign to Destroy the Four Olds ��old customs, old culture, old habits.��������