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Winter snow arrives early in the north and leaves late.
And in the Northern Border, this is even more so. In the frigid winter, the nomadic tribes unite more than ever. During the day, women gather to work hard together, while men venture out to herd the livestock, searching for fresh grasslands that survive under the cover of snow and ice.
"Big Brother Ye, you say that in winter they encounter frozen lakes and those fragmented ice fields, where one wrong step could mean life-threatening danger. Why don't they find a safer place to live?"
At dawn, robust men ride majestic horses, waving their lassos vigorously to herd the sheep ahead. Their loud and clear calls are like authentic songs of the grasslands; winter seems not to scare them at all.
Hong Qingyan didn't understand. In this day and age when most people have moved into small western-style houses, why were there still nomadic tribes risking their lives, wandering on the vast grasslands?
