Everyone joked and bantered for a while, which officially marked their introduction.
During casual conversations, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing learned about each other’s work responsibilities. For the project’s external tendering process, the requirements were extensive. The workload was split into two parts: one half assigned to the team led by Zhou Qu, mainly responsible for actual construction, and the other half to the team led by Pan Yicheng, primarily focused on expert recommendations.
The group was now heading to visit the indigenous residents. The locals claimed to have a mountain deity belief and even preserved a primitive sacrificial site. Zhou Qu hoped Pan Yicheng’s team could assess whether the local relics held any value and determine if railway construction needed to accommodate them.
Zhou Qu stayed at the workstation to handle other matters. Batu, who had arrived early and was familiar with the surrounding environment, was assigned by Zhou Qu to serve as a guide for the expert advisory group. He also brought along a few staff members from the workstation.
Outside the workstation, the landscape was desolate, with not a patch of greenery in sight. The distant mountains were brown, with sparse vegetation, resembling a Gobi desert.
As Batu led the team on their journey, he said with a mix of anticipation and concern, “That’s what they say, but I still hope there’s nothing valuable here. I really don’t want to make any more adjustments. The terrain here is already complex enough, and if we have to take all these things into account, the work will be impossible.”
Batu, viewing the issue from an engineering perspective, naturally didn’t want to face overly demanding requirements.
Tan Muxing was responsible for taking photos, using his camera to document the surroundings for later organization and research.
Chu Qianli observed the mountain shapes, thought for a moment, and said, “Mountains govern people, and water governs wealth. This is probably just an ordinary altar. I doubt it’s very large.”
China has an abundance of famous mountains and rivers, where most valuable cultures are nurtured in areas of scenic beauty. Harsh environments rarely leave behind anything significant.
“Even so, we still need to inspect the site. The work must be thorough,” Pan Yicheng said.
After finishing his photography, Tan Muxing, recalling that Batu was a member of an ethnic minority, asked, “Brother Batu, do you know anything about their mountain deity beliefs?”
Batu replied, “No idea. Honestly, before this project, I had never even been here, despite being a local.”
Chu Qianli teased, “A fake local?”
“Our province is too big,” Batu sighed. “The distance from my hometown to the capital is actually shorter than the distance to this place. My classmates from Hebei used to envy me for working close to home, saying they had to travel to the capital all the time. I’d think, ‘Dude, have you even looked at a map? Our province borders eight others, and you envy me for working back home?!’”
“Working in the north of our province and then transferring to the west of our province is practically like crossing half the country!”
“…”
Chu Qianli and the others now understood why Batu was clueless about local beliefs. Even though they were from the same province and belonged to ethnic minorities, the distance between them was too vast for any connection.
This area was remote even by provincial standards and hardly suitable for habitation.
The journey continued through harsh terrain, but eventually, flocks of livestock appeared on the low hills. Though not as robust as the cattle and sheep near the base, there were clear signs of human habitation.
A humble, minimalist cluster of buildings emerged, resembling the last refuge on the Gobi Desert. Food was hung out to dry at the entrances, and decorative banners fluttered in the wind, though they were worn by the elements.
Panting and out of breath, Pan Yicheng stumbled forward. “This really is as primitive as it gets.”
Chu Qianli commented, “Low emotional intelligence calls it a harsh environment; high emotional intelligence calls it ‘pristine nature.’”
Tan Muxing looked at the buildings and glanced around. “Is this a village?”
“A very, very small village,” Batu replied. “I’d guess there are fewer than a hundred people here—probably fewer than some residential complexes.”
The villagers clearly all knew each other. When they saw Batu and the others, they looked wary and didn’t greet them. Instead, they lingered at the village entrance, muttering among themselves.
Chu Qianli asked, “What are they saying? Can you translate?”
Batu replied, “These despicable outsiders are here again.”
Tan Muxing raised an eyebrow. “Brother Batu, didn’t you say you don’t understand Mongolian?”
“Exactly, I don’t. I just made it up. I don’t even know if they’re speaking Mongolian.”
“…”
Fortunately, some other staff members from the workstation could communicate with the villagers, and some of the villagers also spoke Mandarin, allowing them to establish a conversation.
However, there had been an earlier conflict between the two sides. The villagers suspected the group was there to cause trouble and were reluctant to let them into the village.
Batu enlisted a colleague’s help to explain. “Tell them that we’re not here to say they can’t build due to their beliefs. We’ve brought experts today specifically to discuss the matter of their faith.”
The workstation colleague tried to mediate, but unfortunately, it wasn’t very effective, and the group was still kept outside the village.
“Ugh, here we go again…” Batu scratched his head in frustration but then glanced around with a hint of relief. “Good thing the higher-ups didn’t come along today.”
Batu whispered something to his colleague, which left the latter looking both surprised and hesitant. The colleague glanced at Chu Qianli with a puzzled expression before relaying the message to the villagers.
The villagers were stunned upon hearing it. They exchanged glances, and then one of them went back to report to the rest of the village. Before long, the group was allowed inside.
Pan Yicheng asked, “What did you say?”
Batu grinned. “I said one of our colleagues is regarded as a shaman by people from another village and that we came here specially this time.”
Chu Qianli exclaimed, “But I’m not a shaman!”
Batu laughed it off. “Don’t worry, we didn’t say you were. It’s just a misunderstanding from those other villagers, and we’re simply passing it along…”
Tan Muxing, recalling Zhou Qu’s visible stress at the welcome dinner, asked nervously, “Won’t we get scolded for this?”
Chu Qianli replied, “If that happens, we’ll just have Professor Pan explain it with his knowledge of folklore.”
Hearing her confident tone, Pan Yicheng was dumbfounded. “Usually, it’s the teacher who shifts responsibility to the students. When did students start passing the buck to their teachers?”
Regardless, Batu’s tactic proved highly effective, and the group successfully met with the villagers.
Pan Yicheng decided to turn a blind eye to the details, resolving not to inform Zhou Qu. The less said, the better.
The group entered the village, finding that living conditions were quite primitive, and the village itself was small.
Tan Muxing recalled Yinlong Village and now felt sure that Chu Qianli hadn’t lied. Yinlong Village was indeed a symbol of advanced civilization compared to this place, which could even be considered wealthy in comparison. Yinlong Mountain had abundant resources, while this area was barren, with even the livestock looking malnourished.
“This is incredible. Thanks to you, this is the first time I’ve been able to reach the heart of their village. The last two times, I only got as far as there,” Batu said, gesturing to a spot as he spoke to Chu Qianli.
The workstation team wanted to inspect the local mountain deity altar and was taken to the village leader.
Inside a house, at the main seat of a large central table, sat an elderly woman. Her face was deeply wrinkled, and she wore a small cap adorned with ribbons, feathers, and intricate patterns.
The moment Chu Qianli entered, she felt the eyes of the elderly woman and the villagers lock onto her, prompting her to shrink instinctively behind Tan Muxing.
The room was crowded, and there were multiple rounds of discussions. The elderly woman spoke in a minority language that Chu Qianli and the others couldn’t understand, leaving them waiting on the sidelines.
A colleague explained, “They’re saying not everyone in the village can visit the altar. If we want to go today, they have to perform a ritual first to check if it’s an auspicious day.”
Chu Qianli nodded in understanding. “Oh, I get it. It’s about choosing a lucky day. Let them do it.”
“Should we step outside while they perform the ritual?” Pan Yicheng suggested. “We can come back in after they’re done.”
The colleague added, “There’s another part. Only true warriors can visit the altar. Before the ritual, there’s a bökh wrestling session. It’s a traditional practice.”
Batu’s expression changed. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Chu Qianli asked, “What’s bökh?”
“It’s a traditional sport, officially recognized as part of the nation’s intangible cultural heritage,” Batu replied.
Pan Yicheng patiently explained, “It’s written as bökh, meaning wrestling. In the past, it was often performed before worshiping the ovoo.”
At that moment, a strong man stepped forward from the villagers, patting his arms and loosening up his muscles. He beckoned to Batu and the others, clearly inviting someone to compete.
Chu Qianli exclaimed, “Aren’t your people known for not wrestling? Didn’t we just debunk that stereotype?!”
Batu replied numbly, “I never said we don’t do bökh.”
Chu Qianli: “What?! Are you trying to play word games with me?!”
The group was forced outside to a flat dirt area that barely qualified as a wrestling ground. The villagers had already selected their representative and were now watching Batu’s group, waiting for someone to step forward.
The burly man on the field bounced lightly on his feet, warming up as he eyed the group like a predator sizing up its prey.
Unanimously, the group nominated Batu to compete, reasoning confidently, “This is your cultural tradition. Of course, you should represent us. Don’t your people go to college on horseback, shooting arrows, and wrestling?”
“Good grief. Whether or not he went to college, I’m telling you, as someone who did, I’m definitely no match for him…” Batu said, exasperated. “I wish you’d just think of me as a Northeasterner right now!”
“Northeasterners are strong fighters, too.”
“That’s another stereotype!”
Batu’s facial features gave him an exotic look, but as soon as he stepped onto the field, he was quickly thrown to the ground. His appearance and fighting prowess were entirely mismatched.
The rules of the match were simple: if any part of the body above the knees touched the ground, the competitor lost. Batu was pulled down in one move, collapsing like a paper tiger.
The villagers gathered around the field, cheering enthusiastically as the strongman won with ease. The atmosphere became festive, almost like a holiday celebration.
Batu dusted himself off, unharmed but disgruntled, muttering, “I’m never bragging about going to college on horseback again…”
He was genuinely worried that one day someone might actually ask him to perform horseback riding.
As an older man, Pan Yicheng couldn’t possibly go into the ring. Instead, he leisurely watched from the sidelines, remarking, “You’d better explain this clearly to Old Zhou when we get back. The reason why the expert advisory team couldn’t study the altar today is entirely because you guys lost the wrestling matches!”
Batu: “???” Can blame be shifted like this?
The young men from the workstation went up one after another to compete, but none could defeat the experienced strongman. After all, they were mostly engineers or even purely administrative staff—winning against him would have been a miracle.
The crowd excitedly watched the matches, cheering loudly whenever a participant was taken down. The atmosphere was lively and celebratory!
The workstation team wasn’t sure if winning was necessary to gain access to the altar. However, after everyone had taken their turn, only the expert advisory team remained. Since Chu Qianli and Pan Yicheng were obviously not suited for the task, that left only the silent Tan Muxing.
Batu patted Tan Muxing on the shoulder and said helplessly, “Alright, you represent your group this time. If you win, great; if not, we’ll figure something else out. One more match won’t make a difference.”
Tan Muxing quickly waved his hands in refusal, saying anxiously, “But I don’t like violence…”
Watching the shoving and grappling between the competitors, he frowned slightly, finding the whole scene unsettling. To him, it looked uncomfortably similar to a brawl.
Batu countered, “Violence? What violence? Don’t insult the traditional sports of our minority group!”
Tan Muxing: “…” But didn’t you say earlier you wished people would see you as a Northeasterner?
Unable to get out of it, Tan Muxing reluctantly stepped into the ring, feeling deeply embarrassed under the watchful eyes of the crowd.
The moment the audience saw another competitor take the field, they erupted in cheers, reigniting the energy of the venue.
Even the workstation team, caught up in the competitive atmosphere, temporarily forgot about the altar and cheered Tan Muxing on enthusiastically.
Chu Qianli shouted, “Go, Xingxing! You’ve got this!”
Pan Yicheng chuckled and remarked, “It’s actually fun to occasionally experience some folk activities.”
Tan Muxing politely bowed to his opponent, and after a handshake, the match officially began.
The strongman, clearly experienced, excelled in tackling, grappling, and throwing techniques. He had easily defeated all his previous opponents and now launched a swift attack against Tan Muxing.
Tan Muxing, still disoriented from stepping into the ring, was caught off guard by the initial charge. But as the strongman lunged at him, he instinctively blocked, managing to push the strongman back two steps!
The crowd was stunned.
Batu exclaimed, “Huh? He didn’t fall? That guy is incredibly strong—this is the first time he’s failed to land a hit!”
Chu Qianli cheered excitedly, “Xingxing! Xingxing!”
The strongman was equally surprised. After his first failed attempt, he became more cautious, refraining from rushing in again. Instead, he began hopping from side to side, looking for an opening to attack.
“What’s he doing now?” Chu Qianli asked, confused.
“Eagle steps, maybe?” Pan Yicheng speculated. “Their wrestling techniques seem to mimic animals.”
Chu Qianli decided, “Then Xingxing should mimic bear steps!”
Whether or not Tan Muxing heard Chu Qianli’s suggestion, he seemed out of sorts throughout the match. His gaze wandered, and his movements were slow and deliberate, as though he were uncomfortable being the center of attention. He mostly stood in place without making any moves.
Since Tan Muxing didn’t initiate an attack, the strongman had no choice but to approach him again.
The strongman charged forward with great momentum, attempting another powerful tackle.
Tan Muxing, moving sluggishly, managed to block the charge and grab the strongman’s arm.
The strongman struggled fiercely, trying to bring Tan Muxing down.
But Tan Muxing calmly sidestepped and gently tipped the strongman over, causing him to fall to the ground.
Though Tan Muxing handled the situation with careful and gentle movements, the strongman found himself unable to break free for a long while. The crowd erupted in astonishment as the match concluded, and the final result was announced.
Chu Qianli, seeing her tablemate win, cheered sincerely, “Xingxing won! Xingxing won!”
Batu, who had watched the entire match, wore a complicated expression and commented, “Honestly, if he hadn’t thrown me earlier, I’d have thought that guy had no strength at all.”
To Batu, there was something oddly peaceful about Tan Muxing’s demeanor. He had somehow transformed the heated intensity of bökh into the playful atmosphere of a children’s TV show, reminiscent of Teletubbies. The vibe was so calm that Batu half-expected it to switch to a daycare program. It was pure kindergarten-teacher energy.
