Leisurely Traveler with Check-in System

Li Younan and the others had been out from the RV campsite for some time.

There was always an oxygen supply in the RV, so even at an elevation of 4,000 meters, there wasn’t any obvious impact.

However, once out of the RV, the surrounding environment truly reflected the oxygen level appropriate for 4,000 meters above sea level.

Liu Li wandered outside for a while, and soon felt dizzy, with a slight throbbing in her temples.

Only then did she realize she was experiencing altitude sickness, because Li Younan had protected her so well that she had almost forgotten she was on the plateau all this time.

She couldn’t help but think that without Li Younan’s preparations, this journey definitely wouldn’t have been so smooth.

Those who drive themselves from coastal areas along National Highway 318 don’t have such conditions, and just the altitude sickness along the way can be quite a torment.

Thinking of this, Liu Li followed Li Younan ahead silently, while she put on her portable oxygen generator.

Once she inhaled the oxygen, she felt much more comfortable.

Li Younan followed Jiatuo through the village to a house closest to the hillside, which was Jiatuo’s home.

Jiatuo told Li Younan, ”The areas here are generally divided into agricultural and pastoral zones. Our situation is quite unique, belonging to a semi-agricultural and semi-pastoral area, where we raise cattle and sheep and also grow some grains and vegetables.”

Li Younan mostly understood that the grains Jiatuo referred to primarily meant barley, with vegetables being mainly radishes and potatoes.

Jiatuo pointed to the potatoes in the roadside garden and said, ”This thing is our autonomous region’s dish, hahaha.”

Li Younan recalled when he went to Aba and Ganzi, locals there also referred to potatoes as their state’s dish.

He was well aware that the Tibetan area consumes a lot of potatoes not simply because of the taste, but mainly because high-altitude areas have very few crops suitable for cultivation. Potatoes grow well in such environments, and with the significant temperature difference between day and night, the potato starch tends to settle better here than in the plains, having a sandy texture...

Li Younan remembered the last time he had steamed potatoes in Aba; the texture was sandy—hard to believe, right?

Along the way, he also noticed that every household had tall stacks of firewood at their doors.

Seeing those logs, a thought flashed through his mind.

The vehicle was equipped with woodworking, carving, and even painting tools—as the saying goes, when you have a hammer, you start looking for nails; Li Younan was always ready with tools to put his skills to use.

Jiatuo warmly invited them into the yard.

A single-story house stood there, with an old motorcycle parked in the yard.

”It’s more convenient to ride a motorcycle here than to drive a car.”

Jiatuo explained.

Li Younan parked his motorcycle, at which point a four or five-year-old Tibetan girl ran out of the house, a pure smile on her face, shouting ”Papa, Papa.”

Jiatuo scooped up the little girl, ”This is my daughter, Zeren Nimei.”

The short-haired, curly-haired girl, with rosy cheeks, curiously observed Li Younan and Liu Li, then giggled and buried her head into Jiatuo’s embrace.

At this moment, a young Tibetan woman came in carrying a bucket of milk.

Jiatuo introduced, ”This is my wife, named Zhagencuo.”

A few exchanges in Tibetan took place between the couple, after which Zhagencuo shyly smiled at Li Younan and Liu Li.

Then Jiatuo said, ”We happen to plan to make butter today. You haven’t seen it done, have you?”

He recalled a previous visitor, much like Li Younan, who was intensely curious about the butter-making process.

This was a common occurrence among Tibetan herders, yet the other tourist watched it with enthusiasm all day.

Li Younan replied, ”Oh, I have seen it.”

”You’ve seen butter being made?”

”Have even made it myself.”

”You’ve made butter yourself?”

”Yes, with sheep milk.”

”Butter with sheep milk?”

Jiatuo was left bemused by Li Younan’s consecutive answers.

It’s known that sheep milk and yak milk are different, and even milk from cows in the plains isn’t likely to produce good butter.

The key feature of yak milk is its high oil content, easily producing butter, whereas milk from cows in the plains lacks oil, and sheep milk even less so.

As a child, tagging along with his mother to mess around, Jiatuo had tried to churn butter from sheep milk, and after half an afternoon of effort, all he got were tired arms, with no sign of butter.

Jiatuo burst into laughter, ”You’re bragging again; sheep milk can’t possibly churn butter.”

”Just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it can’t be made.”

Jiatuo’s stubbornness was evident, he laughed heartily and said, ”If you can churn butter with sheep milk, I’ll give you all the butter we make today.”

Li Younan shook his head, ”I don’t want your butter.”

Their butter is still purely handmade, though they have electronic equipment now, unlike the cumbersome methods of the past.

They first used a centrifuge to purify the milk for higher fat concentration; you could even see the yellowish oil inside, then it was poured into a churning container, where a piston rod was used to churn the butter bit by bit.

Li Younan watched for a while, and with each pull of the piston, the clotted butter gradually floated to the surface.

Jiatuo, sweating from exhaustion, wiped his forehead and said to Li Younan, ”You see, it’s quite tiring, and this is even with the milk being once purified with a centrifuge. Doing it purely by hand is even more tiring. Sheep milk can’t make butter.”

Li Younan didn’t bother explaining further and shifted the conversation with Jiatuo to other topics, like selling beef and daily income sources.

After chatting for a while, Jiatuo seemed to remember something and asked, ”What do you do?”