Chapter 54: Pride Greater Than the Heavens

“Animal genes determine everything; purebreds will always produce formidable offspring, that’s beyond question. With plants, hybridization leads to better and better results, but with animals, especially large dogs, the further they’re mixed, the worse their traits become. As the saying goes, mongrels are worth the least.”
“I’ve witnessed firsthand how harshly the Tibetans train their mastiffs. After all, they keep them to protect their cattle and sheep—their greatest wealth—so of course, they train only the fiercest native mastiffs to fight off wolves.”
“But here in the lowlands, those conditions don’t exist. Even a purebred mastiff, after some time, will gradually lose its wildness and deteriorate.”
“Tibetan mastiffs only truly belong to the high plateaus, a harsh environment that breeds their ferocity. No matter how well they’re raised by people, their wildness inevitably fades. Not just Tibetan mastiffs—even tigers, kings of all beasts, become nothing more than big cats in a zoo.”

Zhuang Chen had no interest in cats and dogs—they were too much trouble, demanded too much emotional investment. He preferred the tranquil company of turtles.

Leaving the kennels, they came upon the stables next door, where Yu Qian’s most beloved treasures were kept: purebred miniature ponies. Legend had it they originated in the Shetland Islands, northeast of Scotland, with thick coats, short sturdy legs, and clever minds. These were small yet incredibly strong horses, fit for riding, carrying loads, or pulling carts.

Yu Qian brought over a pony, and Zhuang Chen’s eyes lit up—it was barely thirty centimeters tall and weighed less than ten kilograms, about the size of a medium dog.

Petite and charming, its entire body was covered in soft, fluffy mane—so adorable, as people nowadays would say, utterly ‘cute’.

Yu Qian stroked its brown fur, smiling. “The first time you meet a pony, it’s not afraid of people at all. They seem to rely on humans, are very affectionate, and most of all, they’re just so tiny. When it stands in front of you and looks up, you feel like you’ve stepped into a cartoon.”

“It’s as if you’re the prince from Snow White, standing here waiting for the seven dwarfs to fetch your steed. The little fellow’s soulful look makes you want to turn around and find some cabbage or carrots to reward it—this impulse has stayed with me ever since.”

“At first, it was just for novelty; I didn’t think much of it. Later, a friend invited me to see his prized animals. From the moment I stepped through the gate, there were zebras, rhinos, giraffes, alpacas, golden pheasants, flamingos, sea lions, walruses, seals—everything you could imagine.”

“At last, we came to a big open enclosure ringed by fencing, and inside was a herd of miniature ponies. He showed them off with great pride. I watched those little horses darting about in front of me—my eyes could hardly keep up…”

“I was so caught up in it then, obsessed with the idea of gathering every fine thing in the world for myself. If you love something, why not buy it!”

“Back home, I scraped together the funds, transferred the money, picked out the horses, arranged for transport. I handpicked seventeen choice ponies, and within three days, brought them all back to my courtyard.”

He patted the pony’s head, beaming. “Now I can say with confidence: when it comes to miniature ponies in this country, your big brother here is second to none!”

Zhuang Chen raised his thumb in praise. If nothing else, such childlike delight was rare. Yu Qian burst out laughing. “Why is it that travel broadens the mind, sports strengthen the body, chess hones the mind, and calligraphy cultivates the soul, but the moment you mention pets, all sorts of negative things come to mind?”

“Keep fish, and you’re a spoiled young master; keep birds, and you’re prematurely aged; keep cats, and you’re seen as idle; keep dogs, and you’re a decadent noble…”

“I just don’t get it—it’s just a pastime!”

He thumped his chest, declaring boldly, “If you’re going to do something, do it with style, aim for the best, reach new heights. Play with real skill, and with real spirit.”

“We men of the capital care about face—so what if we love pets?”

“If you do it well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

He all but forced Zhuang Chen onto the pony’s back. The pony was so short that Zhuang’s feet, stretched straight, brushed the ground. He gripped the reins, Yu Qian slapped the pony’s rump, and off it went—surprisingly fast.

It was Zhuang Chen’s first time riding, and he was grateful it was a pony. He wouldn’t have dared mount a full-sized horse. The little one, small as it seemed, was strong and lively, carrying him around the paddock twice before finally stopping.

Yu Qian saw Zhuang Chen’s lingering excitement and laughed. “How was it? Not enough, right?”

“Don’t rush riding—if you fall, it’s no joke. I took a couple of spills myself, nearly left me traumatized!”

He had staff lead the pony away. After a tour of the grounds, they returned indoors for tea.

He chatted warmly, “The days pass one after another, friends come in waves: bird watching, monkey viewing, pigeon flying, fishing, feeding sheep, playing with dogs, chasing deer, horseback riding, eating and drinking, pure pleasure. They come full of anticipation, leave satisfied.”

“That feeling is what I love—tirelessly hosting friends, taking their joy as my highest reward. In those moments, I know all my efforts haven’t been in vain.”

Zhuang Chen was moved to genuine admiration. For such character alone, Brother Qian was worth befriending. He raised his teacup in respect. “For those words alone, you’re a true man!”

Yu Qian threw back his head and laughed heartily. “With those words from you, I’m happy today!”

“They say we men of the capital are arrogant, self-important, always vying to be the best, looking down on outsiders.”

“In truth, what we pursue is excellence in every art, perfection in every detail, an unyielding will to never admit defeat. Deep down, we crave respect, strive to outshine our peers, and never rest until our goals are met.”

“Even if it means great sacrifice, even risking everything, it’s all for that face we can never lose!”

Compared to his stage persona, Yu Qian in person was even more vibrant. Guo, on the other hand, rarely socialized, preferring to stay in his study, writing and painting—a stark contrast to the comedian’s public image.

After a full afternoon of leisure, they drove back to the city for dinner. Knowing Zhuang Chen was a fellow food lover, Yu Qian headed straight to a century-old institution—Badaju, Sagaoju.

At the West Fourth flagship, they parked and entered, settling into a private room. Yu Qian, a regular, ordered skillfully. When Zhuang Chen produced a fine bottle of Lafite, Yu Qian’s eyes gleamed. “Heh, no wonder you’re a connoisseur—tonight we’ll feast in style!”

“This place opened in the sixth year of Qianlong, though it was around even earlier, originally selling hot pot pork. In the old days, pork left over from the imperial sacrifices was mainly sent here.”

“Whatever the palace couldn’t finish, they sold to the public. The dishes improved over time, they added Shandong cuisine, and it grew into the grand restaurant it is today—Sagaoju, formerly known as Heshuanju, one of the Eight Great Eateries.”

“You’ve heard in crosstalk about ‘steamed deer tail,’ but it’s not really deer tail. It’s actually made from pork offal, shaped to look just like it. So it’s called steamed deer tail, though many crosstalk performers don’t know this—they think it’s real.”

“The two signature dishes here are hot pot pork and braised family feast. If you come, you must try them. Unlike the pickled cabbage pork of the northeast, Sagaoju’s pork is skinless and sliced paper-thin.”

“When it’s ready, the pork is cooled, sliced, and plated, then eaten directly with dipping sauce—chive flower mixed with fermented bean curd and chili oil. The broth is rich, the meat tender, fatty without being greasy, lean without being tough—that flavor…”