Chapter 9: An Ox Must Have Its Nose Pierced

Liu Honest woke up very late the next day. When he opened his eyes, the sun was already high in the sky, almost noon. Rubbing his head, still heavy from a hangover, he left the bedroom just in time to see Liu Yitiao carrying a bundle of dry grass toward the cattle shed. He quickly followed.

The plow ox was their family’s treasure. Never mind its usefulness—just buying it had cost a fortune that made his heart ache for days. Five taels of silver! If the animal died, wouldn’t all that money go to waste?

“Father, you’re up. You drank so much last night, are you feeling alright?” Liu Yitiao slowed his pace when he saw Liu Honest, walking alongside him.

“I’m fine, just a bit groggy from too much wine. I’ll be alright soon. By the way, how did your Uncle Yang get home yesterday? He drank a lot too. Didn’t you ask him to stay?”

Liu Yitiao laughed. “Father, Uncle Yang can handle his wine much better than you can. After two flasks he was still steady as ever. When you passed out, he chatted with me for a while and then left on his own.”

“That’s true. Your Uncle Yang used to be a wanderer and knows martial arts. It’s no wonder I can’t keep up with him. Still, it was late and I should have been more hospitable.”

“What was that?” Liu Yitiao ignored the last part and asked eagerly, “Uncle Yang was once a wanderer? I never would have guessed. Was he really that skilled?”

“I can’t say for sure, but even Wang Kui, when he was at his most ruthless, wouldn’t dare provoke him lightly. Remember when Wang Shuai let you off so easily and even paid you a tael of silver? That was all for your Uncle Yang’s sake.”

No wonder the constables treated an ordinary man like him with such courtesy; so Uncle Yang was someone of importance after all.

“Why does he care so much about our family? He’s saved me before, and yesterday he came specially to warn me about Wang Kui. We’re not even related, are we?”

“That’s something from our ancestors’ time. You’re still a child, no need to know too much.” Liu Honest brushed off the question. “How’s our ox? Is it any better? I’m counting on it to work once spring comes.”

Liu Yitiao grinned proudly. “It’s almost fully recovered. I’ll give it another dose of garlic juice at noon and it’ll be fine.”

“Really? That fast?” Liu Honest was genuinely surprised. In the past, a cow with dysentery would either be sick for months or die slowly. He’d never heard of one recovering overnight.

“If you don’t believe me, go take a look. It’s already eating and sleeping as usual. I brought this dry grass for it.” Liu Yitiao waved the bundle in his hand. After all, he was a top graduate from a renowned agricultural university—curing a case of bovine diarrhea was child’s play for him.

Liu Honest hurried over and bent to inspect the calf’s rump; it was much drier than the night before. Liu Yitiao tossed the dry grass beside the calf, letting it lower its head to munch and swallow.

Without modern feed, this leafy hay was the best winter food for cattle and sheep.

“Eat up, eat more. In a month or so, you’ll be ready to help in the fields,” Liu Honest beamed, grinning ear to ear as he watched the calf chew. Five strings of cash for a solid plow ox—he felt like he’d gotten an incredible bargain.

“Father, while we have some free time, shouldn’t we pierce the ox’s nose? If we wait until it’s bigger, it’ll be harder to do,” Liu Yitiao suggested, watching the contented calf.

“Pierce its nose? How?” Liu Honest was baffled. In just a few days, he could barely understand what his son was talking about.

Liu Yitiao was stunned. Was the practice of piercing an ox’s nose not invented yet in the Tang Dynasty? How did they plow fields with oxen then—just using the rope around their necks?

“Father, don’t you need to lead an ox by its nose? Haven’t you ever seen anyone pierce an ox’s nose before?”

“Lead it by the nose? What nonsense is this in broad daylight? There’s hardly any space on its nose to tie anything! Are you joking?” Liu Honest began to wonder if his son had been knocked silly by Wang Shuai—why else would he be spouting such laughable ideas?

Liu Yitiao just smiled. So they haven’t heard of it? Then let it start with me.

He moved to stand in front of the calf, gently stroking its ears, and declared, “Father, oxen need to have their noses pierced!”

Seeing how serious Liu Yitiao was, Liu Honest didn’t dare dismiss it outright. After all, the boy had just cured the sick calf. Perhaps there was something to his reasoning, even if he himself couldn’t see it.

“Then explain—why pierce it, and how?”

“Father, when you’ve borrowed other people’s oxen to plow, haven’t you noticed they’re hard to manage? They wander off in the wrong direction, sometimes even back up, and weaker people can’t handle them. Or, they see something green and immediately want to eat it, sometimes even nibbling on the crops?”

Instead of answering directly, Liu Yitiao listed the common problems people faced when driving oxen in this era.

Liu Honest nodded vigorously, agreeing. Every issue struck home—they were all real headaches.

“Then pierce the ox’s nose! That will solve everything!” Liu Yitiao felt like a peddler touting miracle cures. “Once it’s done, the ox will go exactly where you want, with hardly any effort. Even a child like Hui could manage it easily.”

Liu Honest was thrilled, his excitement written all over his face.

“Really?!”

“Really!!”

“Then let’s do it!!”

“Father! What are you two talking about piercing?” At that moment, Liu Ertiao came in from outside, accompanied by a Confucian scholar in his forties—presumably his teacher from the private school.

Liu Ertiao brought the scholar over and respectfully introduced him, “Mr. Huang, these are my father and elder brother. The couplet you gave yesterday—my brother composed the matching line.”