Chapter 390 Lassoing Horses

Chapter 390: Horse Roping

Cheng Ge took a deep breath and looked up at Grey Cloud, perched steadily on his shoulder, head tilted, watching him.

Seeing him look over, Grey Cloud gave a low "coo" from its throat.

Then it lowered its head and gently pecked with its hard beak at the fabric on his shoulder.

Cheng Ge pressed his lips together, staring at this "living betrothal gift" he couldn't shake, the sheer absurdity of it almost overwhelming him.

On a whim, he reached out, probing the fluffy, downy area under its chest.

His fingertips felt warmth, and through the dense feathers, he could feel the firm, tight muscle and the subtle rise and fall beneath.

Cheng Ge instinctively rubbed his fingertips over it and muttered under his breath: "Tsk! A little skinny. Probably chewy."

But the second those words left his mouth, Grey Cloud on his shoulder went stiff.

Its head, which had been lazily tilted, whipped around, its amber eagle eyes going wide, staring at Cheng Ge like it couldn't believe it.

As if it had just heard something utterly outrageous, even the happy gurgle in its throat cut off.

Grey Cloud: "…………"

It seemed to understand perfectly and was totally traumatized.

Those sharp eagle eyes clearly said: shock, hurt, accusation, and a hint of "are you insane?"

It abruptly lowered its head—not to nuzzle, but to give a firm, light peck with its hard beak on the back of Cheng Ge's hand, which was still "evaluating the meat" on its belly.

Cheng Ge yanked his hand back, leaving a faint white mark on the back.

"You beast, you've got a temper!" Cheng Ge raised his hand, curled his fingers, and flicked Grey Cloud's lowered head.

Flicked on the forehead, Grey Cloud shook its head, annoyed, letting out a threatening "huh-huh" from its throat.

Just then, Dahuang, who had been at Cheng Ge's feet, scared into hiding by Grey Cloud's earlier dive, now that things seemed safe, wagged its tail and trotted over.

It circled Cheng Ge's legs twice, then raised its round head, looking up curiously at the majestic Grey Cloud perched on Cheng Ge's shoulder.

Grey Cloud's gaze swept over Dahuang once or twice, then suddenly spread its wings, flapped a few times, and hopped off Cheng Ge's shoulder!

It didn't fly off—it just landed lightly right on Dahuang's round head!

Dahuang: "...?"

The silly fat dog, who'd been dumbly staring at the sky, felt a sudden heavy weight on its head, and its vision went dark. The whole dog froze, all four paws like they were nailed to the ground.

It rolled its eyes desperately upward, trying to see what the hell was on its head.

Grey Cloud stood steady on Dahuang's head, wings folded, looking down from above.

It lowered its head, using its hard beak to lightly poke at the thick, soft flesh around Dahuang's neck, which trembled with each breath.

After a couple of pokes, it raised its head and turned toward Cheng Ge.

It let out two clear, very suggestive "coos."

The meaning was unmistakable: "This dog. Lots of meat. Plump. Eat it."

Cheng Ge: "………"

Even though Dahuang couldn't speak eagle, the poking at its neck and the heavy weight on its head made it instinctively sense danger.

It didn't dare move, only letting out faint whimpers, its round eyes begging Cheng Ge.

Of course, in the end, Cheng Ge didn't eat either of them.

Dahuang's pitiful whimpers and Grey Cloud's smug "coo" sales pitch were still tangled in his ears.

A burst of rapid, crisp hoofbeats came from the distance, breaking up the bizarre standoff.

Several fine horses swept in like a whirlwind, hooves kicking up bits of grass and snow.

Tana led them, in a maroon riding outfit, reining in her horse with a sharp, clean motion and twirling her whip in a neat flourish.

Behind her came several equally skilled Northern Di youths, all looking spirited.

"Hey!" Tana called out, her voice crisp as a bell, carrying the hearty openness of prairie kids.

Today, her thick black hair was braided into many fine plaits, tipped with small gold beads that clinked softly as she moved, glinting in the thin winter sun.

Beside her, Temur rode a jet-black horse, watching with a smile.

"Come on... let's race!" Tana lifted her chin, nodding toward the wider pasture in the distance.

Before Cheng Ge could answer, Grey Cloud flapped once and landed back on his shoulder, chest puffed out proudly.

Dahuang, as if pardoned, scurried behind Cheng Ge's legs, poking only half its head out to glance warily at that terrifying bird of prey.

Cheng Ge glanced at the "living betrothal gift" on his shoulder, then at the lively, energetic young people before him. The absurdity slowly gave way to a different kind of interest.

He raised an eyebrow, flashing his usual harmless smile: "Alright."

………

The grassland wind hit with a biting chill, but it couldn't blow away that surging wildness and freedom.

Cheng Ge swung onto a waiting horse, squeezed its flanks, and the horse shot off like an arrow.

His robes flapped loudly, and Grey Cloud spread its wings to steady itself, letting out a high-pitched cry that matched the gallop's speed perfectly.

The moment he moved, the clatter of hooves followed.

Tana led the charge, gold beads bouncing at the ends of her braids, her laughter scattering in the wind.

Temur followed close behind, his steady gaze fixed on the figure ahead.

More Northern Di young men and women shouted and chased after, hooves pounding like drums across the vast grassland.

The hoofbeats merged into one, filling their ears with a thrilling clamor.

They rode on to a livelier pasture.

A crowd had already gathered there, forming a loose, massive circle, buzzing with noise and excitement.

Inside the circle, dust rolled thick. Several unsaddled wild horses were leaping and bucking, trying to throw their riders.

Meanwhile, more skilled riders wielded lasso poles, chasing on horseback, trying to subdue the most untamable steeds.

“It’s horse roping!” Tana’s eyes lit up as she reined in her horse, pointing excitedly at the scene.

Cheng Ge also slowed down, his gaze sweeping the field before his pupils narrowed slightly, locking onto one particular horse.

It was a chestnut stallion with snow-white hooves, tall and well-proportioned, its muscles sleek and rippling with explosive power, neck held high, mane flying.

It was clearly the wildest of the herd—hooves churning, charging left and right, its neighs ringing with unbridled fury and defiance.

It threw off two approaching ropers in succession, even lashing out with its hind legs, nearly kicking a pursuing horse.

“What a stunning horse!” Cheng Ge murmured in admiration, a flash of undisguised hunger in his eyes.

This horse was wild and unbroken, and precisely because of that, it seemed all the more magnificent.

The gray falcon on his shoulder seemed to sense his master’s mood and let out a short cry.

Tana followed his gaze and immediately understood.

She exchanged a glance with Temur beside her, and he gave a slight nod.

Tana snapped her reins, and her chestnut mount surged forward, plunging straight into the chaotic herd.

Temur moved in perfect sync, wheeling his black horse to flank from the other side.

Tana rode with deft agility, constantly steering her horse to pressure and guide the frantic chestnut, cutting off its escape routes and draining its stamina.

Temur seized his moment, his lasso arcing through the air, the loop cast again and again—though the wild horse narrowly dodged each throw, he pressed on relentlessly, shrinking its room to maneuver.

The stallion, maddened by their flawless coordination, grew even more enraged, its neighs thunderous as it repeatedly tried to break free. The onlookers at the edge erupted in gasps and cheers.

Cheng Ge stood outside the ring, watching intently.

The gray falcon on his shoulder remained still, its sharp raptor eyes tracking the blur of motion within the ring.

Finally, after a sharp turn, the wild horse hesitated for a split second.

Temur’s eyes narrowed, his arm putting all his strength into the throw, and the lasso shot out like lightning, landing dead around the chestnut stallion’s neck!

The horse reared, letting out a furious scream, thrashing wildly.

Tana had already ridden in close, her short whip flicking deftly to coil around the rope’s end, and together with Temur, she locked it down tight.

The two riders and their mounts engaged in a tug-of-war with the fiercely spirited stallion.

Dust flew, muscles bunched—a raw, powerful display of beauty.

After a tense standoff, the stallion’s struggles gradually faded, its breath coming in heavy snorts, still pawing the ground in defiance but unable to break free.

Only then did Tana and Temur ease up, sweat beading on their foreheads as they exchanged a smile.

Tana dismounted nimbly, walked over to the still-panting chestnut, reached out to stroke its sweat-soaked neck, and murmured a few soothing words in the Northern Di language.

The horse initially tossed its head in resistance, but perhaps sensing no ill will from the young woman, or simply exhausted, it gradually calmed.

Temur also dismounted, coiled the lasso rope, and held it in his hand.

The two led the horse through the crowd, straight up to Cheng Ge.

Tana’s face was flushed from exertion, her eyes sparkling, as she thrust the reins toward Cheng Ge.

“For… you,” her voice rang out, carrying unmistakable sincerity, “honored… guest.”

Temur stood at her side, saying little but wearing a warm gaze—clearly a joint gesture from both.

Cheng Ge looked at the horse before him, which, even subdued, still radiated unyielding pride.

He glanced at the golden beads swaying in Tana’s braids and at Temur’s steady smile.

Finally, his gaze settled on the reins held out to him.

The gray falcon on his shoulder tilted its head and let out a soft gurgle.

Cheng Ge reached out and took the coarse, sturdy reins.

His fingertips brushed the horse’s warm hide, feeling the surging strength beneath.

Cheng Ge rode “Snowstep” across the grassland with abandon for a long while, the wind roaring past his ears, the tangled thoughts cast aside for the moment, savoring a rare thrill of unfettered galloping.

The gray falcon on his shoulder would occasionally spread its wings and fly low, racing the running horse below, crying out in excitement.

Even Dahuang joined in, his short legs pumping furiously, always left far behind yet thoroughly enjoying the chase.

But the good weather didn’t last.

By afternoon, the sky began to gray, leaden clouds pressing down, and the wind turned bitingly cold, whipping up snow that stung the face.

Tana was the first to rein in her horse. She looked up at the overcast sky, frowned slightly, and spoke a few quick words in the Northern Di language to Temur.

Temur nodded gravely, then turned to Cheng Ge, speaking in halting but clear Chinese: “Sky looks bad… blizzard coming.”

Cheng Ge managed to get the gist—there might be a blizzard tonight.

They needed to rush back to their pasture to reinforce the sheep pens and horse corrals.

Cheng Ge looked toward the churning clouds on the horizon.

He’d never experienced a prairie blizzard firsthand, but he’d heard how fierce they could be.

“Need any help?” he asked without thinking.

Tana shook her head and explained to Cheng Ge, “Pasture far… long round trip… snow… safe in tent.”

She paused, then added, “Livestock pens… not sturdy… loss… big.” She smiled at him, her cheeks flushed from the wind.

Cheng Ge understood what she meant. He wasn’t familiar with the pasture’s terrain, and rushing along would likely be more of a hindrance than a help.

He nodded. “Then be careful. Go and come back soon.”

Tana, Temur, and the others wasted no time, giving a quick salute.

Then they wheeled their horses around and galloped off into the grassland, soon vanishing into the thickening dusk and blowing snow.

Cheng Ge watched them leave, gave “Snowstep” a gentle pat on the neck, and turned his horse to head back at an easy pace.

The gray falcon landed back on his shoulder, preening its wind-tousled feathers. Dahuang seemed to sense the changing weather too, no longer dashing about, staying close beside the horse.

By the time they got back to the tent, the wind was already fierce, whipping the canvas with loud cracks.

Dahuang dove straight into the warm tent, curling up by the brazier and refusing to move, while the gray falcon stayed perched on his shoulder, staring blankly into space.

As expected, after nightfall, the blizzard indeed arrived.

The fierce wind whipped snow against the tent, pounding it relentlessly, but fortunately, a charcoal brazier inside kept it warm.

Outside, aside from the howling of the wind and snow, almost no other sound could be heard.

Cheng Ge lay on a fur-padded couch, pulling the blanket tightly around himself.

Grey Cloud perched on a special crossbar inside the tent, dozing with eyes shut. Dahuang curled up by the couch, snoring softly.

But late in the night, before dawn, faint yet unusual noises began to filter in from outside.

At first, they were indistinct, mingled with the wind, but soon grew clearer, even mixed with shouts, quarrels, and... the muffled clash of weapons?

Cheng Ge frowned in his sleep, burying his head deeper into the blankets, trying to ignore the disruptive sounds.

Yet the sounds of fighting and cursing did not subside; instead, they intensified, seemingly drawing closer to the tent area where he was.

He finally gave up and opened his eyes. The tent was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the dying embers in the brazier.