91 The End

The Troublemaker's eyes were alight with laughter. Silly human beings, not everyone is qualified to be my underling.

Actually, the Troublemaker was a trained racing horse, but it was naughty and would often act outrageously. It was good at such tricks. No big deal. I just threw a person off, and he landed on his butt.

With everyone’s help, Ouyang Fen pulled his foot out of the pedal. By then, his face was swollen from the mosquito bites, and his butt was hurting because of the horse. I should always pray before I go out. Why do I have such a bad relationship with animals?

The staff was relieved that Ouyang Fen was all right. The third series of photos would be taken soon. Ouyang Fen was well-behaved. He returned to his own house obediently. Qin Guan, you vile person! You did that on purpose! Just wait and see! This is not over! (Alas, this has become his signature phrase.)

Amid the breeze, the grass was swaying like the waves in the sea. A rider was riding on a running horse. In nature, human beings and horses seemed tiny. The photographer pushed the lens forward, and the horses slowed down gradually. They were in the frame, creating a beautiful picture. The photographer pressed down the shutter, and the whole shooting was finished successfully.

The riders slowed down, and the horses gradually stopped. The photoshoot was over, but everyone was lingering around. They had fallen in love with riding.

Before entering the barn, the Troublemaker looked at Qin Guan reluctantly. Such a pity that he will leave. I’ll never met someone so easy to bully.

Qin Guan, on the other side, let out a relieved breath. It was finally over. I couldn't even feel my legs and butt. What a terrible photoshoot. If it wasn't for Sister Xue, I would have been lying in my dormitory, reading and sleeping. How comfortable that would have been!

Master Qin, you forgot all about the delicious meal you had last evening! You deny everything as soon as you put down your chopsticks, huh? Meanwhile, Sister Xue was packing Master Qin's luggage. They had to return to their lodging in that shabby minibus. The models were dirty all over, stinking like horse sweat and urine. The minibus was crowded, so the smell was terrible.

They returned to their lodging, feeling dizzy. They didn't even take a sip of water, they rushed to their rooms right away to take a bath. Qin Guan washed his body twice before he felt better. As he caressed his swollen legs, he realized that he would be sore for the next three days. New riders weren't get used to the shaking on a horse’s back. The inside of the leg was the most tender part of the human body, so the close contact had given the riders a whole new experience.

Qin Guan dried off and changed into loose, comfortable sportswear before he hobbled out. After half a day of physical work, his stomach felt flat. When he got to the yard, he saw that the others looked the same. They were hovering two millimeters above their chairs. It hurt to actually sit down. When the manager served everyone dinner, they cheered up.

At noon, the manager and his wife organized a feast for everyone. There was Bashang mutton boiled in clear soup but cooked without seasoning. The dish was served with sauce. The day lily fried pork was delicious and tender. Eutrophy also gave it a medicinal effect.

Chinese yam was a kind of staple food made from cooked potatoes and oat flour. The small particles were fried with chopped green onion and sesame oil, which were both soft and sweet. The Bashang carbon-baked beef jerky was made from selected beef tenderloins. The texture of each beef stick was clear to see. They were all made traditionally by Inner Mongolian masters who knew everything about air-dried meat. The beef sticks dried naturally and were meticulously processed through baking. Then they were flavoured with the most basic salty seasoning. No additives or corrosion removers were added. It was a tasty, must-have dish in the Bashang area.

The staple food served last was the speciality of the landlady: Bashang oat flour roe.

She mixed oat flour and warm water (preferably local water) and pulled the dough into small pieces. Then she rubbed them with her thumb on a stone plate and steamed them. Before serving them, she poured sauce all over them. The natural ingredients made the experience even more pleasurable for their taste buds.

They all forgot their pain and enjoyed the feast to their heart's content. They had to be fast again, or Qin Guan would finish all the dishes. Having dined and wined to satiety, the production staff didn't waste anyone's time. They gave out bonuses to the models and expressed their appreciation for their hard work.

Then they packed all the equipment and carried them to the car before heading home. Qin Guan lay on the back seat of Sister Xue's car, but dared not touch the seat with his butt. He was counting the bills he had been given. One, two... six. It was 600 yuan, no more or less. Did they take him for a beggar? He had spent two days working for so little money. Qin Guan was so angry that his nose looked twisted. Before he could complain though, Sister Xue stabbed another knife through his heart. "Well, that will be 200 yuan for me. Don't keep it all."

What could Qin Guan say? She was the money-grubber who had found that unrewarding job for him. And to what effect? What could a magazine with such a small readership do for him?

The "Capital Entertainment" newspaper, which was released every Monday, would have been way better. Suddenly, Qin Guan recalled that the newspaper had interviewed him and Quyang Fen. It was Saturday, so the next issue would be published in two days. Although it had a small readership, the paper was sold at newspaper stands. Qin Guan planned to buy one on Monday to see his debut.

After driving for several hours, Qin Guan walked unevenly to his dormitory. His roommates asked him details about his trip to the grassland and sneered at him when he said it had not been worth the journey. Qin Guan had gotten to ride a horse, enjoy delicious food, and earn money. He was the only one who would consider this too much trouble. He sure was very talented at attracting hostility! We hate people who make a living on their appearance.