Two Yurts in the Steppe, Laughter Echoing Through the Summer Breeze

Two yurts stood quietly like cast-away shagai pieces under the summer sky.
Dried curds and cheese gleamed white on the roof of the larger five-walled yurt, while children’s cheerful laughter echoed through the breeze from behind the fabric walls. A man in his forties tied his horse outside and stepped into the yurt, saddle in hand. Inside, he found his children mischievously offering dried dung to their elderly grandmother, claiming it was candy. “You little rascals! Out you go!” he barked, prompting the three barefoot kids, all between five and ten, to dash out the door. “I’m going to give you a good scolding next time!” he muttered, stepping toward his mother to grab the dung from her hand. But the grandmother held it tightly and said with a sly smile, “Leave it, dear. The children gave me this candy.”