A new home

Cold mist wound around the mountainside like a thin khata scarf, and a light coating of white frost covered the ground and stone steps.

The difference between daytime and nighttime temperatures was now enormous. Wrapped in his thick woolen monk's robe, Qu Zan kept both hands tucked into his sleeves, his breath forming clouds of white frost.

After showing the wooden token identifying him to the monk soldiers guarding the grounds, Qu Zan walked out through the temple gates.

Today was his day off.

When Qu Zan arrived at the rented wooden hut, Meiduo and Duimu were both home.

The frosty chill had seeped through the crude plank walls. The little girl was huddled in a pile of straw, shivering and curled into a ball.

Qu Zan noticed that the inside of the hut had been lined with a layer of tattered woolen felt. Duimu had nailed up the cloth from her felt bundle.

"Why didn't you burn any firewood last night?" Qu Zan asked.

He saw some split firewood piled in a corner.

The room was cold and gloomy, even damper and chillier than outside.

"We have to make the firewood last," Duimu said. "It hasn't snowed yet, so it isn't really cold. If we save up more firewood now and burn it when the snow comes, we'll make it through the winter."

Duimu pointed at the firewood. "Lama, we started gathering firewood before winter. With the silver you gave us, it won't be hard to get through this winter."

The old woman had worked all her life. Her palms were dry and shriveled, covered in crisscrossing cracks, with hard, purplish-black scars left by years of chilblains. She had survived dozens of winters already and was confident she could weather this one too.

Qu Zan looked at the plank hut, its roof covered in dry grass. A snow disaster could crush it. If a white calamity struck and the shack collapsed, spending the winter out on the streets and freezing to death from loss of body heat was a common occurrence.

In Mìdì, every bitter winter was a life-and-death trial for the poor. When a snow disaster struck, they could go to sleep and never see dawn.

"Aji-la, I'm planning to move us into a sturdier house," Qu Zan said.

Duimu and Meiduo both froze for a moment. Neither had expected Qu Zan to say this.

"But our wooden hut hasn't broken yet," Duimu said.

Meiduo nodded too. "Big brother, our house is already very good. It's much roomier than our old home on the estate. The dry grass is all fresh..."

"It's fine to live here when the weather is warm, but it won't stand up to wind and snow," Qu Zan said. "We need to prepare ahead of time. Otherwise, when the blizzards come, we might not be able to find a suitable house."

"But there isn't any wind or snow yet," Duimu said. "Maybe this year will be a warm winter..."

Qu Zan felt a headache coming on. In the end, he could only take a firmer line. "I'll have a long break later, and I'll need somewhere to stay then too. We can't all keep squeezing into this wooden hut forever, can we?"

Once he said that, neither Meiduo nor Duimu objected again.

To them, Qu Zan was an honored monk. It really would be unsuitable for him to keep living in a house like this.

"You're right," Duimu said.

Qu Zan took Duimu and Meiduo out with him. They went to a trading house.

The trading house's nyerpa steward had been sitting behind a long table. The moment he saw a monk enter, he hurried to his feet to welcome him.

"May good fortune and fulfillment be yours, Lama." The steward bowed in greeting.

"I'm looking for a suitable home. Do you have any?"

"Yes, Lama, we do," the steward said. "For how many people? Our trading house has many properties throughout the area at the foot of Corpse Camel Mountain." He glanced at the two people behind him, one old and one young.

"Three people altogether. An ordinary family home will do."

"We have low adobe houses beside the main courtyard. They're sturdy, with a firepit inside, and packed with dry grass to keep them warm. They keep out drafts too. Around nine mace of secret silver a month."

Qu Zan knew that kind of dwelling. The windows were palm-sized, leaving the interior dim and damp all year round. The whole family would have to squeeze together. It was a little better than his current wooden hut.

"Something a little better."

"Then a detached stone house would be the choice. Stone walls, broad wooden windows with thick woolen curtains, divided into two rooms," the steward explained. "Stone walls certainly hold heat better than adobe, and there's no fear of collapse in wind, frost, rain, or snow."

"How much would that cost?"

"The monthly rent is usually between two and five taels. Since you're a monk, and all our properties belong to the temple, naturally we'll give you our best price."

Qu Zan pondered for a moment, seemingly considering it.

The steward seized the opportunity. "We have even better ones: two-story compounds built from earth and stone, with an open central courtyard, a kitchen, a livestock shed, and a private little yard. Those naturally cost more, upwards of ten taels a month."

"Take us to see the detached stone houses." Renting a whole compound was still too expensive for his current means, and there was no need for one anyway.

Qu Zan and the others followed the steward to view several properties.

In the end, he chose a stone house a little closer to Corpse Camel Temple.

The whole house stood on its own, with narrow dirt yards in front and behind, enclosed by waist-high stone walls. A small lean-to had been built separately behind the house to serve as a livestock pen.

"Your family can raise some cattle and sheep here," the steward said.

The house had one main room, its walls painted snowy white. A fixed earthen stove had been dug against one wall of the main room, with its body built from stone. There was also a small side room adjoining the main room.

A whole thick woolen felt mat covered the floor, with highland barley stalks underneath to keep out damp. This was the sleeping area.

The room faced south. During the day, sunlight streamed through the wooden windows, filling the interior with soft light, while the bone-piercing wind stayed outside.

"This place finally feels a little like a country house from my previous life." Qu Zan let out a long sigh.

Qu Zan looked at Meiduo. The sparkle in his younger sister's eyes showed that she liked it very much.

"We've looked at several places now," Qu Zan said. "How much is this one?"

Qu Zan bargained with him for a long while.

"You're a monk of the temple, so naturally we'll give you our best price," the steward said. "One tael and nine mace a month. That's the lowest price. What do you think?"

Qu Zan had no further objections and rented the house on the spot.

Finally, standing at the courtyard gate, the steward handed Qu Zan the key.

"Let's move the furniture over from home," Qu Zan said.

Only then did Duimu and Meiduo seem to wake from a dream. The house viewing had just flowed along like moving clouds and running water, leaving them still unable to quite believe it.

Qu Zan actually thought the house was only passable. It was far worse than his old family home in his previous life.

"But at least it's built of stone."

"The lease on the wooden hut hasn't run out yet," Duimu said.

"That's fine. Have him convert the remaining rent into dried cow dung," Qu Zan said with a smile. "It's cold. You'll need fuel too."

"Is it that simple?"

When the red monk's robe appeared at the landlord's home, everything was simple.

The side room adjoining the main room was Qu Zan's own room.

It too had a woolen felt mat on the floor and was even more comfortable than his room in the monks' quarters.

There were no elaborate carvings anywhere in the house. Everything prioritized sturdiness, warmth, and practicality.

"This finally counts as a home that truly belongs to me." Unlike in the monks' quarters, Qu Zan felt a sense of belonging in this room.

After lunch, Qu Zan did not linger. He hurried back to the temple.

That afternoon, he would be learning the yoga technique.