Recently, Tan Muxing had been weaving with colorful strings during her idle moments while riding in the car.
When Pan Yicheng heard about the reason Tan Muxing was learning the local traditional weaving, he couldn’t help but comment, “Well, she really does have the potential to be a professor. She’s quite good at tricking people into working for nothing. Back when she managed to talk you into this, that was pretty impressive too.”
While weaving, Tan Muxing replied quietly, “…Professor Pan, that doesn’t sound like something a professor should say, does it?”
Pan Yicheng, calm and composed, responded, “This is exactly the kind of thing a professor should say. Teaching you the realities of society is also part of the lesson.”
“…”
Not long after, the local personnel responsible for the relocation arrived in the village.
A few days later, after extensive discussions among various parties, the village, in a rare occurrence, reached an agreement and finally consented to relocate. However, Saren and the others had a small request: they hoped Chu Qianli could choose an auspicious date for the relocation.
The railway project team and the village relocation team were separate, but their personnel were fairly familiar with each other. When Chu Qianli and her team arrived in the province, local leaders had participated in the welcome banquet, so they weren’t complete strangers.
In the workstation, Batu relayed the request from the villagers and sighed, “They really think you’re a shaman. If it weren’t for the fact that you can’t make the decision, they might even ask you to pick the new location.”
Although Chu Qianli insisted she wasn’t a shaman, the villagers had a completely different attitude toward her, displaying an innate sense of trust that often left outsiders amazed.
Chu Qianli put down the map in her hands, pondered for a moment, and said, “Professor Pan, could I trouble you with something?”
“What is it?” Pan Yicheng asked.
Chu Qianli shared her thoughts with him.
“You want to repay their kindness, right?” Pan Yicheng understood immediately. After some thought, he added, “It could work. Let me think about how to talk to Old Zhou.”
Except for Zhou Qu, everyone else in the workstation started discussing in a lively manner, finalizing the details of the activities for the village relocation day.
Relocating the village was no small matter and couldn’t be completed in a single day. However, the villagers wanted to formally bid farewell to the place with a grand relocation ceremony.
The small village, which had preserved its shamanic culture, was about to set off and merge with other villages far away, forming a brand-new shamanic cultural and folk village. This event was also considered newsworthy in the area. Local leaders would attend the relocation ceremony, and even the nearby workstation staff had been invited.
The vegetation was sparse, and the sky was clear and boundless.
In the village, people from various groups gathered. The villagers prepared to say goodbye to the old site with traditional customs. After today, they would gradually move to the new site, leaving behind this familiar yet rugged place.
Zhou Qu, as a representative of the engineering project, also attended the ceremony. After chatting with the local leaders who had arrived, he returned to Pan Yicheng’s side, only to notice something unusual.
Pan Yicheng’s side was completely empty—two others were nowhere to be seen.
Zhou Qu asked curiously, “Where are the students you brought?”
Pan Yicheng had brought many members of the expert team, but Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing were always by his side, earning the title of “professor’s students” from Zhou Qu.
“They went off to do something,” Pan Yicheng replied casually.
“Aren’t they on good terms with the villagers? I heard from Batu that they’re especially well-liked,” Zhou Qu remarked offhandedly, puzzled by their sudden absence. However, he soon caught sight of two familiar faces among the villagers.
The scene was clearly divided into two groups—one was the villagers dressed in traditional attire, while the other consisted of local leaders and staff in formal wear. It was a striking blend of tradition and modernity, gathered here to witness the village’s farewell.
Yet, among the villagers, there were two outsiders blending in effortlessly. Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing were dressed in bright, distinct traditional outfits, moving naturally among the crowd!
Zhou Qu exclaimed in surprise, “Isn’t that…?”
Feigning ignorance, Pan Yicheng calmly scanned the scene and asked, “What?”
Zhou Qu said, “Why are they standing over there!?”
Remaining unruffled, Pan Yicheng replied, “Oh, didn’t you just say they’re on good terms with the villagers and are especially well-liked?”
Zhou Qu: “?”
Just then, the local leaders stepped onto the stage to speak, introducing the future plans for the Shamanic Folk Culture Village, interrupting Zhou Qu’s slightly jumbled thoughts.
After the speeches concluded, the crowd broke into applause, and the ceremony began.
The ceremony was held outdoors, with the villagers bringing out a charcoal fire to commence an ancient tradition.
Chu Qianli, draped in a shamanic robe and wearing brightly colored woven strings on her hands, wasn’t entirely sure whether the date-picking methods she’d learned aligned with the shamanic traditions of the village. So, she decided to hedge her bets and use a combination of both, instructing Saren and the others to prepare animal bones.
Chu Qianli glanced at the current celestial patterns, silently calculated the time in her heart, and then looked at Saren beside her.
Saren understood immediately. She placed the animal bones into the charcoal fire, waiting for the heat to create fine cracks on the bones, revealing auspicious patterns.
An elderly woman nearby, deeply moved by the sight, bowed repeatedly with a reverent expression and beat the drum by her side.
The muffled drumbeats stirred the crowd. With loud and passionate cheers, the relocation ceremony officially began!
The dark-skinned villagers, dressed in formal attire for the day, began a grand procession from the village entrance. They formed a long line, heading toward a nearby altar to bid farewell to the land where countless ancestors were buried.
This was a significant and solemn day, and the altar was open to everyone.
Other staff members did not join the procession but walked scattered alongside, following the villagers toward the altar.
Zhou Qu walked slowly at the side, watching Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing leading the procession at the front. He remarked, “Don’t you feel something’s off?”
Pan Yicheng replied, “Everything seems fine to me.”
“They’re dressed like that, wearing those things, and leading the procession,” Zhou Qu gestured at the colorful strings on his wrist, his tone skeptical. “Are you sure this isn’t crossing any lines?”
Zhou Qu, not wanting to stir up trouble, hinted subtly without explicitly stating that they looked like religious figures.
Pan Yicheng chuckled leisurely, “Students are always eager to join the fun. They’re just wearing some local-themed outfits. The strings on their hands are self-made—you’ve seen Tan Muxing weaving them every day in the car. What are you overthinking?”
Zhou Qu’s expression grew complicated. “…I didn’t see him weaving in the car, but I do see you making things up on the spot.”
The group reached the altar, where Chu Qianli led the way, accompanying Saren as the villagers stepped forward one by one to pay respects to their ancestors.
By now, Zhou Qu was unfazed. He turned to Professor Pan and said flatly, “Alright, spill it. Why is she leading the ceremony? Go ahead, keep making things up—I’m listening.”
Pan Yicheng responded decisively, “Leading the ceremony? Not at all. This is about deeply understanding the essence of religious work as community work and using community-driven approaches to carry out the task!”
Zhou Qu: “Old Pan, I’ll say this even if you don’t like it—you’d be perfect for our type of organization. Stop thinking about leaving.”
“Because I’m good at guiding religious communities with ideas like unity, progress, peace, and tolerance?”
“No, I just think people outside wouldn’t be able to handle how straightforward you are.”
“…”
Chu Qianli held no official position and wasn’t a party member. At most, she was a volunteer on the project, so her involvement wasn’t an issue.
Zhou Qu decided to turn a blind eye. Since the local leaders seemed fine with it, he wouldn’t bring it up either.
In fact, the local leaders appeared quite proud. One even came over to Zhou Qu, enthusiastically saying, “Take a good look—soak it all in. Authentic shamanic culture is rare these days. The Shamanic Folk Culture Village will showcase this as our unique local feature!”
“This blending of ancestral worship and reverence for nature is deeply embedded in the clothing and ceremonies, especially that robe at the front—it’s the most special!”
Zhou Qu nodded numbly. “Yes, it’s certainly very unique. Our people even managed to stand right at the front.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Zhou Qu said with a forced smile. “It’s definitely special.”
Not wanting to offend anyone, Zhou Qu refrained from pointing out that the person in “the most special robe” was actually an outsider. Instead, he quietly listened to his colleague’s enthusiastic explanations of local cultural traditions, occasionally chiming in with a word or two of agreement.
Years ago, shamans were born among nomadic tribes who revered nature and exhibited great resilience. Guided by the stars, they arrived at this place, beginning a long and stable life in the village. Now, they were embarking once more on a new journey, facing a future full of challenges and opportunities.
Although Chu Qianli didn’t practice shamanism, she still led the ceremony for the village.
After the grand ceremony, Chu Qianli removed the shamanic robe the villagers had given her and, along with Tan Muxing, sought out Saren’s grandmother, asking others to help pass on a message.
Speaking softly, Chu Qianli said, “Since I’m not a shaman, I don’t know how shamans choose locations. But I’ve seen the new place, and it will develop well in the future.”
After hearing the message, Saren smiled warmly and bowed deeply to Chu Qianli in gratitude.
Chu Qianli quickly bowed back.
Saren, her face full of kindness, said something Chu Qianli didn’t understand with a smile.
Someone nearby explained, “She said that she mentioned this before—she believes that anyone who guides and helps those around them is a shaman. So, you are indeed a shaman.”
Chu Qianli was momentarily stunned.
Seeing this, Saren’s expression grew solemn and sincere as she bowed deeply to Chu Qianli once more.
Chu Qianli hurriedly returned the gesture.
Moments later, Saren hobbled into the crowd to enjoy the post-ceremony feast, celebrating the memorable farewell to their old home.
After the solemn rituals, there was a lively and joyous banquet. The local leaders and Zhou Qu’s group were also present, enjoying the villagers’ simple and heartfelt singing and dancing, much like a casual community party.
Even a young boy from the village performed a song. Afterward, he blushed and retreated under the applause, seemingly unused to performing in front of so many people.
Seeing the boy about to slip away, Batu quickly called him back and summoned two others as well. “Don’t leave yet—come here. I’ve got something for you.”
Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing, now back in their regular clothes, were sitting nearby watching the performances. They walked over to Batu, puzzled.
Batu, already prepared, pulled out three booklets and handed one to each of them.
The young boy opened his booklet to find breathtaking landscapes—lush green grasslands, barren deserts, and stark black-and-white snowfields, capturing the region’s natural beauty in vivid images.
Chu Qianli asked curiously, “What’s this?”
“A parting gift.” Batu glanced at the three of them, crossing his arms casually. “The boy is leaving with the relocation, and you two will be moving on to a new railway section after your inspection here, accompanying Professor Pan. So I thought I’d prepare something memorable.”
The boy was about to leave with the village relocation. Similarly, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing would move to a new railway work section after their work here, leaving with Professor Pan.
Batu, not part of the expert advisory group, was stationed at the worksite full-time and would remain until this section was mostly completed.
The boy pointed at one of the images in the booklet and asked, “Where’s this?”
“The Qinghai-Tibet Plateau,” Batu glanced at the photo and added with a sigh, “I had altitude sickness there—I wanted to throw up every day.”
Tan Muxing was surprised. “Batu, did you take all these photos?”
Batu nodded. “Yep, all of them are from the places I’ve worked on building roads.”
Chu Qianli was astonished as she flipped through the booklet. “These aren’t even from the same place, are they?”
Batu casually ruffled the boy’s stiff hair and laughed. “Even though I’m not as fluent as he is—I can’t even understand Mongolian anymore—there’s still a bit of heritage left in me.”
“What do you think?” Batu asked as he watched them seriously admire the booklet. Laughing heartily, he continued, “I can’t herd on the grasslands anymore, but being able to build roads all over the country—that counts as embracing the nomadic spirit in a modern way, doesn’t it?”
Tan Muxing was deeply moved.
Chu Qianli said, “That’s such a bold and grand statement—so fitting for a man of the grasslands.”
Batu waved generously. “Of course! All of us who rode horses to college are this impressive!”
“That’s why I haven’t forgotten—I’ve never forgotten…” Batu suddenly began vigorously ruffling the boy’s hair again, speaking with conviction. “Even if I don’t speak Mongolian, I haven’t forgotten! Don’t you dare say I’ve forgotten!”
The boy, suffering under the “weird uncle’s” hands, pitifully cradled his head. “I never said that!”
Batu replied, “You implied it the other day. You thought I’d forgotten everything.”
The boy’s earlier remark about leaving and forgetting had stuck with Batu, who felt like it was directed at him.
Tan Muxing, seeing the boy dodging Batu’s clutches, tried to mediate. “He really didn’t mean it, Batu. You’re overthinking this…”
“No way,” Batu insisted, watching the boy trying to escape. “Don’t even think about running!”
The boy darted behind Chu Qianli in an attempt to evade Batu’s pursuit.
Chu Qianli stood firmly, hands on her hips, and declared righteously, “You can’t bully a child from a minority group!”
Tan Muxing noticed that Chu Qianli had positioned herself behind him. Tilting his head slightly, he asked timidly, “Why are you standing behind me while delivering justice?”
Rather than stepping forward herself, she stayed behind him like a little chick trailing behind its mother hen—albeit one puffed up with pride and brimming with attitude.
Batu tried to sidestep Tan Muxing, attempting to grab the boy, and justified his actions sternly, “I’m a big friend from a minority group, too!”
Caught between both sides, Tan Muxing felt an odd sense of familiarity with the scene. Finally, he slowly raised his arms and hesitantly asked, “…Is this like the game Eagle Catches Chicks?”
The sky was a brilliant blue, and the drumbeats echoed softly.
Laughter erupted from the group as they played, the sound carrying far, far away, filled with boundless joy and innocence.
