area51novel Chapter 399 Greenlanders' Easter
Chapter 399 Greenlanders' Easter
Chapter 397 Greenlanders' Easter
"That's right, sit still and wait."
Instead, he carried the heavy plastic bag containing the heart of a narwhal the size of a basketball and walked straight into the open kitchen.
Maria seemed to have been prepared; she put away her leather sewing needles and thread and took a frying pan from a modern cabinet.
In this kitchen equipped with a dishwasher and a double-door refrigerator, the most authentic ingredients are about to be awakened in a modern way.
Odak placed the enormous heart on the cutting board, used a sharp boning knife to remove the blood vessels and connective tissue from the surface of the heart, and then sliced it into even, thin slices.
The meat looked extremely dense, with a deep dark red color and fine texture. It was even firmer than the best filet mignon and had no excess fat.
"Sizzle—"
"
As a large chunk of Danish Silver Treasure salted butter melted in the hot pan, creating golden bubbles, Maria added the chopped onion rings and sautéed them over high heat until they released a sweet, caramelized aroma.
Next, Audak placed the slices of whale heart into the pot one by one.
There are no complicated seasonings, just sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.
When red meat rich in myoglobin comes into contact with hot butter, a violent Maillard reaction occurs.
An aroma that blends the sweetness of onions with the unique scent of game meat instantly filled the entire room.
It was a kind of beef similar to premium beef, but with a unique flavor. It didn't smell fishy at all; instead, it made your mouth water. Ten minutes later, dinner was served.
There is no rice; the staple food is boiled potatoes, a favorite of Greenlanders, served with canned green beans.
In the center of the plate is a perfectly cooked "whale heart steak," with an enticing brown surface and a pink interior.
"Try it, Lin." Odak didn't touch his fork first, but poured Lin Yu'an a small glass of Akvavit, his eyes full of anticipation.
"This is the strongest muscle of the sea, and the source of the hunter's power."
Lin Yu'an cut off a piece; it felt very solid, neither loose nor hard. He forked the slice and put it in his mouth.
The taste is amazing the moment you chew it.
It completely overturned Lin Yu-an's understanding of "internal organs".
It's neither as powdery as liver nor as fibrous as leg meat. It has the tenderness of beef tongue and the firmness of venison.
Most amazingly, as a marine creature, it has absolutely no fishy smell.
With the help of butter and onions, the mouth is filled with a rich umami flavor, followed by a faint metallic aftertaste—the taste of blood.
"Incredible." Lin Yu'an swallowed the delicious bite and exclaimed sincerely, "This is even more flavorful and wilder than some beef."
"Of course." Odak raised his glass, even though he didn't usually drink much, he had to make an exception tonight.
"It spends its entire life pulsating under the high pressure hundreds of meters deep in the ocean, with no excess fat, and every bite is pure essence."
The two clinked glasses, the strong liquor going down their throats like a fire burning into their stomachs, merging with the heat of the whale meat and dispelling the chill that had accumulated from hours of waiting on the ice field.
The meal was eaten slowly and pleasantly.
Outside the window, the snowfield is bathed in the ever-present sunlight; inside, there is warm light and a crackling fire in the fireplace.
After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, Maria cleared away the plates and served the essential black coffee.
Odak then took a thick brown paper document bag from the cabinet behind him and placed it on the table.
"Now that we've eaten, let's talk business."
Audak opened the file bag, took out several forms bearing the emblem of the Greenlandic Autonomous Government, and his expression became as if he were discussing a multi-million dollar deal.
"I've already had someone take care of that long tooth; they'll put it in a big pot and boil it all night."
"Until all the soft tissue at the base is boiled and cleaned, turning it into a perfect, odorless ivory specimen."
"But Lin, you can't just have teeth to take it out of Greenland."
Odak pointed with his rough fingers to the prominent English abbreviation CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora): "Narwhals are a species strictly protected by international conventions. Without this export permit issued by the Greenlandic government, you will be detained by customs when you transit through Copenhagen Airport."
"Your teeth will be confiscated, and you might even be arrested as a smuggler."
"Tomorrow morning, I will take your professional hunter license number, a copy of your passport, and the quota number for this hunt to the wildlife management official for stamping."
"At the same time, I have also contacted Mr. Yepesen. He will also help you obtain the EU import license in Denmark."
Audak pushed the documents in front of Lin Yu'an, his tone as serious as a lawyer's: "Only when all these procedures are complete can this tooth be considered a legitimate prehistoric artifact, not a contraband."
"You can hang it on your wall at home and show it off to your friends, and even if the police come, they can only stare at it helplessly."
Lin Yu'an carefully examined the document and nodded in satisfaction.
"Thank you, Odak." Lin Yu'an raised his coffee cup, expressing his sincere gratitude. "Not only for this tooth, but also for all the care you've given me along the way. You've shown me the real Greenland."
Audak smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out, revealing a hint of tipsiness and satisfaction: "Don't mention it."
"You're the one who stood up for yourself. Many tourists who spend a lot of money to come here will vomit when they see blood or be too scared to get out of the car when they hear about ice cracks. But you're like a true Inuit."
"This deal not only made me money, but more importantly, it was so worry-free."
The air inside was filled with the aroma of coffee and a faint scent of tobacco; this was the most tranquil midnight night in Karnak.
There was no howling wind and snow, only the unspoken understanding between hunters that transcended culture and national borders.
The next morning.
Although the sun outside the window still hangs in the sky and has never truly set, the town's biological clock has already awakened.
After getting up, Lin Yu'an put on his coat and followed Audak to the small, separate boiler room behind the house.
There, the final step in transforming the stratum corneum into a "work of art" is underway.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a wave of humid, hot steam with a faint fishy smell rushed out, instantly blurring Lin Yu'an's vision.
In the center of the room, the large iron pot that was usually used to cook seal meat for the dogs was now out of the fire, with a thick layer of grease and grayish-white foam floating on the surface of the water.
Wearing thick rubber gloves that reached his elbows, Odak gestured for Lin Yu'an to step back, then dipped his hands into the warm water, groped around for a while, and finally grasped the heavy maxilla.
"Splash—"
—
With the sound of water, the two-and-a-half-meter-long tooth was slowly pulled out.
After being simmered over a low flame overnight, the gums, muscles, and nerve tissue attached to the jawbone and tooth roots have completely softened and fallen off, revealing the foundation that was originally wrapped under the skin.
Odak placed it on the worktable, picked up a stiff-bristled brush and a bucket of water mixed with bleach, and began to scrub it vigorously.
As the brush moved, the last trace of blood and grease was washed away.
When Audak thoroughly dried it with a cloth and moved it outside into the sunlight, Lin Yu'an couldn't help but hold her breath.
So beautiful.
The horn that was still covered in blood and rotten flesh yesterday, looking rather ferocious, has now undergone a qualitative transformation.
Its entire body has a warm, ivory-white color that appears vibrant due to the presence of organic matter.
The distinctive left-handed spiral pattern of the narwhal's tusk resembles a glacier flowing upwards around the tusk, with each groove recording the years this giant beast has spent in the deep sea.
"Perfect." Odak took out a measuring tape and measured along the spiral pattern, his eyes full of admiration. "No cracks, no broken tips. And look at the root—"
He pointed to the solid part that was originally embedded in the skull: "It's very thick and heavy. This means it was a strong, adult male whale with extremely high bone density. If it were an old, toothless creature, this part would be brittle and yellowish."
"Let's go, carry it. To the town office. I'll show you how the civilized world sets rules for barbarism."
The administrative center of Karnak is a two-story blue wooden building located high up in the town.
This place integrates the police station, tax bureau, civil affairs bureau, and most importantly, the natural resources and fisheries management office.
On the rooftop, the red and white Greenland flag fluttered in the cold wind.
Stepping into the hall, you are immediately struck by its distinctive polar-style administrative atmosphere.
There are no glass counters like in big cities here. The floor is covered with non-slip rubber mats, and the walls are covered with notices about the hunting season, quota availability, and wanted poachers.
Looking at the photo on the wall, Lin Yu'an asked, "Is there a reward for catching this poacher?"
Odak laughed. "A bonus? No, Lin. This is Danish soil, not Texas. We don't encourage commoners to be cowboys."
"Moreover, for poachers, a police fine is the lightest punishment."
"The worst punishment was that he was completely wiped out in this town."
"No one would sell him cheap oil, no one would lend him tools, and no one would even care when his dog got sick. Being abandoned by the community on the ice sheet is worse than being in jail."
Audak is clearly a regular here, or even a VIP customer.
Carrying the long tooth tightly wrapped in canvas, he swaggered in. The clerks passing by all laughed and called out his name, some even asking him if there was any meat left.
They went straight to the innermost office on the second floor.
The sign on the door reads in Danish and Greenlandic: "Wildlife Management and CITES Certification Office".
Pushing open the door, I saw a slightly overweight, middle-aged Greenlandic official wearing thick-rimmed glasses, engrossed in a pile of documents.
His desk not only had a computer, but also a vernier caliper that looked like it was used to measure precision parts.
"Good morning, Peter." Odak slammed his long fangs down on the table. "Wake up, we have work to do. An export license."
The official named Peter looked up and adjusted his glasses.
Upon seeing that it was Audak, he glanced at Lin Yu'an, this conspicuous Eastern face, and immediately understood most of it.
"Odak, you old geezer, you've gone and wreaked havoc on the whales over there at the Blue Wall again?"
Although Peter joked, his actions were extremely professional.
He stood up, took a set of professional testing tools from the cabinet, and pointed to the long testing table next to his desk: "Take it apart. Let me see if this thing is worth my ink."
As the canvas was peeled back layer by layer, the long, white tooth was revealed under the fluorescent light.
Peter's eyes lit up, and he couldn't help but whistle: "Wow! Good stuff! This length—it must be at least two and a half meters!"
While we may admire the process, every step is essential.
Peter took the measuring tape and calipers and began to take extremely detailed measurements of the tusk.
Total length: 244 cm.
"
Root circumference: 18 cm.
Tip wear: minor.
Estimated weight: 9.5 kg.
Every piece of data was entered into the computer system and linked to the commercial hunting quota number under Audak's name.
This means that, from this moment on, the tooth is now in Greenland's national archives.
Then, Peter took out a small plastic test tube with a barcode and a small scraper.
He scraped some dried bone powder and residual organic tissue from the inner wall of the cavity at the root of the tooth, and carefully put it into a test tube for preservation.
"These were left by the scientists," Odak explained from the side. "The Greenland Institute of Natural Resources requires that DNA samples be retained for every tooth that leaves its way out."
"This is to prevent poaching and smuggling. If this tooth is found to be illegally resold on the international market, or if someone uses other teeth to impersonate this tooth."
"They only need to do a DNA test to find out when it happened, in which strait it occurred, and who killed it."
"In this system, every whale is unique."
The final step is the most crucial, and also the one that collectors find most heartbreaking.
Peter took out a power drill and replaced it with an extremely fine drill bit.
He found a spot about 5 centimeters above the root of the tooth that would not affect its appearance but was sturdy enough.
"Ziyi—"
A small hole, 3 millimeters in diameter, was drilled through the tooth, accompanied by a slight scattering of bone meal and a burnt smell.
Then, Peter took out a metal lead seal ring with a special anti-counterfeiting design.
The ring was engraved with a complex number: GL—202X—NAR—089.
"Click." The metal ring passed through the small hole and was firmly riveted and locked in place.
Audak pointed to the metal ring and solemnly warned Lin Yu'an, "This is its identification card, and also its license plate number."
"Lin, this isn't just a brand; it's a chain of laws. Remember, wherever you take it, even if you're making it into an art piece, never try to break this chain."
"For customs and police, the tooth itself is worthless; what's valuable is the ring. Once the ring is broken, or the original hole is damaged, it becomes a rotten tooth on the black market."
"You'll be treated as a poacher, fined enough to buy a new car, or even go to jail."
Lin Yu'an looked at the cold metal ring. Although it ruined one of the perfections of the long tooth, it also gave it the right to circulate in the civilized world.
After completing all the physical marking, we finally arrived at the final document stage.
Peter returned to his desk and began printing on a pale yellow sheet of carbon paper.
The whirring of the printer echoed in the quiet office. A moment later, a form was ejected.
At the top of the form are the prominent English words: "Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora" (CITES).
Peter carefully checked every letter on it, including Lin Yu'an's passport number, Odak's hunter number, and Long Teeth's tag number.
After confirming that everything was correct, he picked up the heavy stamp bearing the emblem of the Greenlandic Autonomous Government.
"Snap!"
With a crisp pressing sound, a three-dimensional raised mark appeared in the lower right corner of the paper.
This crisp sound signaled the complete legalization of this long tooth.
Peter put the documents into a waterproof file bag and handed it to Lin Yu'an.
"Keep this safe, Lin," Audak said. "This is the famous CITES export license."
Audak's tone carried a sense of relief, as if he had accomplished a great task: "This piece of paper weighs more than that ten-kilogram tooth."
"It is the last barrier between the civilized world and the primitive hunting, and the only pass connecting the ice field and the urban mansion."
"With it, you can swagger into any country's airport with your teeth in your hand, except for that weirdo, America, of course."
"When customs officials see this paper, they'll let you through, instead of pinning you to the ground."
Lin Yu'an solemnly accepted the document bag and stroked the stamped seal through the plastic film.
He knew in his heart that Odak was right. On the black market, unlicensed tusks could only sell for a few thousand dollars, and that came with the risk of going to jail.
With this piece of paper, its value instantly increased tenfold, transforming it into a legitimate top-tier collectible.
"Thank you for your patronage. The total handling fee and tax is 1800 Danish kroner." Peter tapped the calculator businessily. "This money goes to the town's finances and will be used for road repairs and pension payments."
Just as Lin Yu'an was about to take out his wallet, he was stopped by Audak.
"Yepsen has prepaid all the fees, including this." Odak pulled a crumpled bank transfer slip from his pocket and slammed it on the table.
Then, as if by magic, he pulled a small vacuum-packed package from his coat pocket. It was tenderloin pork that had just been cut off last night.
"The official business is done; this is a private matter."
Odak pushed the meat towards Peter, his serious expression vanishing instantly, replaced by the cunning old hunter: "Here, Peter. This is specially saved for you. Have your wife make you some ribs, get your brain working up, don't stare at this pile of rubbish documents all day."
Peter paused for a moment, then shook his head with a helpless smile, casually stuffing the meat into the drawer: "You old man—alright, get out of here. Don't make my office smell like the sea."
Stepping out of the administrative office, the sunlight outside was still blinding.
Lin Yu'an held the heavy document in his hand and carried the long tooth, which now had legal status, on his shoulder.
He glanced back at the blue house, then at Odak beside him, who looked relaxed.
"Alright, Lin." Odak glanced at the old-fashioned diving watch on his wrist. "The paperwork is done. You're now a legal unicorn owner."
"This is the way of life in Greenland: to abide by the formalities set by Copenhagen while maintaining the ancient warmth and tacit understanding among the Inuit people."
"Where to go next? Go back inside for coffee, or go see how I'm going to turn the remaining whale meat into enough jerky for the dogs to eat all winter?"
"Of course, I'd go see how they make jerky." Lin Yu'an chose the latter without hesitation. "Coffee can be drunk anytime, but this kind of polar survival skill is something you'll never have again once you miss it."
"Good eye." Odak nodded approvingly. "Coffee is a pastime for Danes, but dried meat is the lifeblood of Greenlanders to get through the long winter."
The two left the administrative center and went around to the high ground behind the Odak family's house.
Here stand several rows of huge frames built from driftwood and whale bones, two or three meters off the ground.
This drying rack was specially designed to prevent foxes and free-roaming sled dogs from stealing the food.
Under that shelf, a figure was busy at work.
It was Odak's son, the one with the broken leg, Inuk.
He was sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket covering his legs, and a simple worktable in front of him.
He clumsily held an uruk knife in his hand, processing a pile of deep red back meat cut from the whale's spine.
Upon seeing this, Odak's eyes softened for a moment, but then he put on a stern foreman's face again and strode over.
"It's too thick, Inuk!"
Audak pointed at a piece of meat his son had just cut and loudly corrected him, "Are you cutting a steak? Hanging it up like that, the surface will dry while the inside is still raw. It'll go bad in a couple of days!"
Inuk was startled and almost dropped the knife. Seeing that it was his father and the guest, he quickly lowered his head in shame: "Dad—I was afraid it would break if I cut it too thin."
"It's better to break than to rot!"
Odak walked over, but instead of pushing his son away, he stood behind him and reached out to grasp his son's wrist holding the knife.
"Watch closely, your wrist should be flexible, and the blade should be used to cut at an angle."
Guided by his father's large hand, the Uru knife drew an elegant arc across the piece of meat.
A perfectly sliced, deep red meat of uniform thickness was taken out, and under the polar day sunlight, the delicate texture of the meat could even be seen.
"This is the standard for making meat jerky."
Audak released his grip and turned to Lin Yu'an to explain, "Lin, this is our energy bar."
"Narwhal meat is extremely high in myoglobin, and if it's frozen directly without processing, it will be very dry. But if it's made into dried meat, it becomes a different kind of deliciousness."
Odak pointed to a plastic bucket filled with liquid at his feet. Lin Yu'an leaned closer and smelled it; it had a strong, salty, fishy odor.
"This is seawater brought from the beach," Odak explained. "We need to soak the sliced meat in the seawater for ten minutes."
"The salt in seawater can kill bacteria, prevent spoilage, and form a protective film on the surface of meat to prevent flies from biting it."
"This is much better than the refined salt in the supermarket; it carries the soul of the sea." After soaking, Odak demonstrated how to place the slices of meat on the crossbar of the rack.
"Lin, are you worried that the temperature is too low and the meat won't dry properly?" Audak seemed to see right through Lin Yu'an's thoughts.
"Indeed, it's only April now. Although the sun is out, it's still like a refrigerator at minus ten degrees Celsius," Lin Yu'an said truthfully.
Audak hung up a piece of meat, saying, "April is the best time to make jerky. In the summer months of June to August, flies will lay their eggs in the meat."
Pointing to the meat strips that had already begun to frost over, he said, "And we're not using hot air drying, we're using freeze drying."
"The meat is hung up and frozen solid, then the dry, cold wind draws the ice out of it. The resulting meat has loose fibers, a crisp texture, and doesn't spoil."
"If you wait until it gets hot to dry the meat, it will only turn into fermented sour meat, but you definitely won't be able to stand the smell."
"And what about these?" Lin Yu'an pointed to a pile of slightly inferior scraps of meat and cartilage with fascia attached.
"That's travel rations for dogs." Odak tossed the scraps of meat into another bucket, hung it directly on the bottom shelf without rinsing it in seawater.
"When we go on long hunting trips, we can't carry heavy loads of fresh meat."
These jerky pieces are lightweight and high in calories. Once at camp, we cut a few pieces and tossed them to the dogs; they crunched them down, which helped them chew and kept them full.
For the next hour, the small courtyard behind the boiler room transformed into a bustling processing plant.
Lin Yu'an wasn't idle either; he rolled up his sleeves and helped hang the sliced meat on the high shelf.
Although Inuk's movements were still somewhat clumsy, with his father's guidance, the slices of meat he cut were becoming more and more presentable.
He was no longer the shut-in who only stared at the computer screen. Now, with his hands stained with blood and seawater, he finally looked a bit like the son of a hunter.
When the last piece of meat was hung up, the entire drying rack was filled with hundreds of deep red strips of meat, rustling in the cold wind and emitting a strong smell of rust and sea salt.
-
Audak wiped his hands on his apron, looking at his son who was carefully cleaning the Uru knife with a complicated expression.
"Actually—he's not bad at cutting." She whispered to Lin Yu'an, her voice so low that only the two of them could hear. "Although not as good as when I was young."
This is perhaps the highest praise a stern Inuit father could give.
Audak announced loudly, shattering the semblance of warmth: "Alright! Work's finished!"
"Inuk, push your wheelchair back inside, don't get in the way here."
He turned around and looked at Lin Yu'an. "Lin, the meat is hung up, the certificates are processed, and my teeth have been whitened. We don't have much work to do now, so we can have a drink in a bit."
Back inside the warm house, the air was filled with the aroma of freshly cooked stew.
Maria had already set out the wine glasses.
"Cheers!"
The spicy liquid went down his throat, instantly turning into a ball of fire. Odak let out a satisfied sigh, his cheeks flushing red.
"Lin, don't rush off. Stay here a little longer. April is the happiest time of year in Greenland."
Odak put down his glass, a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "Tomorrow is Easter, the most important day for Greenlanders."
"My eldest son, Malik, and second son, Peter, will fly back from Nuuk tonight. They will bring their wives and children, and the whole family will be reunited."
Odak pointed to the vast ice field outside the window: "Tomorrow, our whole family will go on a picnic at the foot of the glacier. It's a tradition. You must come."
"I want to show my two city sons what a true Eastern sharpshooter is."
The next day was Easter.
If the previous Karnak was like an old hunter silently enduring the cold wind, then today Karnak has become a happy young man preparing to attend a ball.
In the early morning, the church bell, slightly rusty, was rung, its clear sound echoing between each colorful wooden house.
The streets were no longer empty, but crowded with bustling crowds. This was the most grand and colorful time of year in Greenland.
For a world that has been dominated by white ice and black rocks for years, today's colors are a dazzling luxury.
Greenland's traditional costumes took center stage on this day.
The men, including the usually filthy Odak, had all changed into snow-white Anorak ceremonial overcoats.
It was a thick cotton pullover with delicate geometric patterns embroidered on the chest, paired with crisp black trousers and shiny black leather boots.
The women's outfits, however, were even more stunning.
Maria took off her usual apron, which was stained with seal grease, and put on a red silk blouse.
What's most eye-catching is her shorts—they're made of sealskin and densely sewn with colorful glass beads, creating an extremely intricate and beautiful pattern.
On her feet were a pair of white sealskin boots that reached her thighs, with embroidery so exquisite it resembled a work of art.
Against the backdrop of white snow, the entire town resembles a flowing palette of colors.
People embraced each other, saying "Happy Easter" in Greenlandic, and the air was filled with a longing for the sun and new life.
For the Inuit, prayer is merely a prelude; the real celebration must take place in the wilderness.
And those expensive dresses are absolutely not to be rolled around in snowdrifts.
At the doorstep of Audak’s house, a somewhat comical yet incredibly realistic “costume show” is taking place.
His two eldest sons, Malik and Peter, had just flown back from the capital, Nuuk, last night with their wives and children.
At this moment, these two civil servants, who usually sit in their temperature-controlled offices, are frantically taking off their expensive traditional ethnic costumes and carefully putting them into dust bags.
Malik, the eldest brother, changed into a bright red Canada Goose Arctic down jacket, the thick wolf fur around the collar fluttering in the wind.
This is the "standard" attire for middle-class and government officials in Nuuk, as it is both warm and a symbol of status.
Peter, the second son, was more particular, wearing a one-piece waterproof suit from the Icelandic luxury brand 66°North, with reflective strips printed on the black fabric.
He looks like a professional explorer preparing to climb Mount Everest. The price of just this outfit is equivalent to the price of Pita's two sleds.
As Odak tidied his reindeer-skin boots, watching his sons bundle themselves up like two expensive, colorful plastic bags, he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
While putting a leash on the dog, he muttered in Greenlandic, "Danish attire."
In the eyes of an experienced hunter, only the pelts of dead animals are true clothing. While these synthetic fabrics are lightweight and waterproof, they make a rustling sound that disturbs the prey.
"Father, stop complaining." Malik smiled, adjusted his glasses, and then turned to look at Lin Yu'an standing to the side.
"Is this Mr. Lin, whom Father always talks about?" Malik extended his hand warmly.
His English was as standard as a Copenhagen news anchor's, and you couldn't hear any trace of Odak's thick, guttural accent.
"I heard you shot down a narwhal yesterday? That's incredible." Malik's tone was genuinely surprised.
"Although Peter and I also hunt, we are too busy with work during the week. We only go out to the fjords to hunt seals on weekends. We haven't seen a tusk in a long time."
"It was just good luck, thanks to Audak's experience." Lin Yu'an shook hands politely, sensing how out of place those hands were with the icy landscape.
Odak, busy loading a large crate of food onto the sled, shouted, "Don't listen to his modesty! Lin's marksmanship is better than both of you office cowards combined!"
"150 meters, one shot to the head! You two probably can't even find a seal's blowhole now, right?"
The two sons exchanged a glance, gave a helpless bitter smile, and shrugged.
In this home, no matter how high their position was in Nuuk's government building, no matter how many important documents they had drafted, they were all respected.
But once they returned to this icy plain and put on these brightly colored down jackets, in their father's eyes they would forever remain regressed city dwellers.
Half an hour later, everything was ready.
A large, even somewhat eclectic, convoy of vehicles assembled in front of Audak's house.
This also demonstrates the economic strength of this large Greenland family—although they live in the far north, they are by no means poor.
Two brand-new, high-displacement snowmobiles were parked by the roadside; they had been rented by the two sons from the small airport in Karnak, their engines emitting a deep, powerful roar.
Their wives and children sat excitedly in the back seat and trailer, wearing helmets and goggles, holding Danish chocolate bars, as if they were going to participate in a polar rally.
Even the third son, Inuk, who had broken his leg, was lifted onto the trailer of one of the snowmobiles and wrapped in a thick blanket.
At the very front of the procession was still Odak's traditional dog sled, a piece of wood and rawhide rope bound together with the marks of time.
The twelve Greenland dogs seemed to sense the festive atmosphere, or perhaps the whale meat feast they had yesterday was still burning inside them.
They looked exceptionally spirited, their fur glistening in the sunlight, heads held high as they let out long howls, completely overshadowing the two steel machines behind them.
"Lin, get in! Maria, hold on tight!"
Odak refused his sons' suggestion that the motorcycle would be faster, stubbornly standing in the snowmobile driver's seat. In his view, only the sound of the snowboard scraping against the ice made it a real trip.
"Huk! Huk!"
The whip cracked. The pack of dogs ran wildly, and motorcycles roared.
This team, blending pre-modern and postmodern styles, kicked up a cloud of snow and surged out of the town, heading towards a sheltered valley ten kilometers away.
That valley was Audak's secret base. The massive glacier's edge stood like a high white wall in the distance, blocking the biting north wind.
The valley was bathed in sunshine, and the snow had become soft and fluffy. Today was not a simple picnic, but an extremely elaborate polar feast. As soon as the car came to a stop, Maria directed her daughters-in-law to spread out several thick, huge reindeer hides on the snow, creating a natural "carpet area."
The two sons skillfully set up several portable double-burner gas stoves and even pulled out a folding picnic table.
"We won't eat seal or whale today." Odak pulled a huge vacuum-sealed bag from the sled's insulated box, a hint of smugness on his face.
"According to tradition, we eat lamb for Easter."
It was a whole rack of top-quality lamb chops, not from the local area, but air-freighted from pastures in southern Greenland, thousands of kilometers away.
The sheep there grow up eating Arctic moss and wild grass, resulting in tender meat with no gamey smell, and their price is comparable to gold.
"Ziraichi—"
The pan heated up rapidly over a high flame, and the sound of the fat sizzling as the lamb chops touched the bottom of the pan echoed through the silent valley.
Odak personally prepared the dish, sprinkling it with rosemary and sea salt. The smoky aroma of the pan-fried lamb chops, combined with the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee, instantly whetted everyone's appetite.
Even the dogs in the distance were already getting restless and swallowing their saliva.
In addition to the fancy pan-fried lamb chops, Maria was also stewing the traditional "Suaasat" in another large pot.
This is a thick soup made by simmering seal meat, rice, onions, and potatoes over low heat.
Although it may not look as refined as lamb chops, in this kind of weather, a bowl of thick, piping hot Suaasat can warm you from the soles of your feet to the top of your head.
Everyone sat around a reindeer hide, holding hot soup and lamb chops, while the children had red Danish hot dogs in their mouths and rosy smiles on their faces.
Lin Yu'an watched this scene. The background was an ancient glacier that had never melted, the foreground was a happy family, and the air was filled with laughter and conversation in a mixture of Danish and Greenlandic languages.
This unique sense of abundance amidst the desolation of the Arctic is more moving than any dinner party in a luxury restaurant.
After a satisfying meal, the real highlight was about to begin.
In Greenland's Easter tradition, this day is not just about eating and drinking, but also a hunting day for children.
"Look over there!" Odak, with his sharp eyes, suddenly put down his coffee cup and pointed to a hillside in the distance with exposed black rocks.
There were several white shadows moving about. If you didn't look closely, they would almost blend into the snow.
It's a ptarmigan! April is their molting season, and they are all white except for the black tip of their tails.
Although they have excellent camouflage, their intelligence seems to drop during molting season—they become quite silly.
People often don't know to run when they get close; they just stand there dumbfounded. This makes them an excellent target for training novice hunters.
Odak took three small-caliber rifles out of the long box on the sled.
That was a .22LR caliber Luger 10/22 semi-automatic rifle.
This gun has very little recoil, a crisp sound, and cheap bullets, making it an ideal beginner's weapon for young hunters all over the world.
"Malik, Peter! Put your kids' iPads away!"
Odak yelled at his grandsons, who were huddled inside their windproof tent playing on their tablets, his tone leaving no room for argument: "Today is Hunter's Day! Stop staring at your screen all day! Whoever shoots a Thunderbird, Grandpa will reward them with a thousand crowns!"
Upon hearing the word "one thousand crowns," and with the added atmosphere, the initially reluctant grandsons finally put down their game consoles and excitedly ran over.
"I want to play too! I want to play too!"
Even five-year-old Alek, dressed in a sealskin coat, raised his little hand, which was covered in mittens, and hopped around in the snow.
"Okay! Everyone gets a share!"
Odak handed Lin Yu'an a .22 rifle with its stock shortened, specially modified for children, his eyes filled with entrustment: "Lin, you teach this kid. I'll keep an eye on the two older ones, lest they break their toes."
This was a hunt filled with laughter and clumsiness.
Although the two civil servants' sons didn't hunt regularly, they still had hunter's blood in their veins.
They lay on the cold snow, teaching their children how to support their chins and how to aim through the gaps and sights.
"Don't rush—pull the trigger slowly—don't close your eyes—" Malik whispered instructions to his son.
Although his movements seemed a bit clumsy and he even hesitated when pulling the bolt, his expression as a father imparting skills was extremely focused.
On the other side, Lin Yu'an lay prone on the snow, serving as a human gun mount for Xiao Aleke.
This gun is still too heavy for a five-year-old. Lin Yu'an supported the handguard with his palm, letting Alek's little face press against the butt. "See that black tail tip?" Lin Yu'an whispered in the little guy's ear, "It's eating willow buds. Don't rush, wait until it stops to swallow—"
Little Alek's little finger was on the trigger, his breathing became rapid and his body trembled slightly with tension and excitement.
"Now. Hold your breath—press gently—"
"Snapped!"
A sharp, firecracker-like blast from a small-caliber gun shattered the tranquility of the valley.
Fifty meters away, the ptarmigan that was pecking at its food suddenly froze, its white feathers bursting into a small cloud of blood mist. Then it fell headfirst into the snow, flapped its wings twice, and remained motionless.
"I hit it! I hit it!"
The little guy blinked from the recoil, paused for a second, then reacted, jumped up excitedly, and hugged Lin Yu'an's leg, screaming.
"Well done!"
Audak ran over laughing, picked up his grandson, and gave him a big kiss on his rosy cheeks.
"As expected of us Greenland descendants! First shot draws blood! Much better than your two uncles who are still aiming!"
Over there, Malik and Peter's children, though they had fired several shots without hitting their targets, excitedly gathered around when they saw their little cousin's success. The adults didn't scold them for missing; instead, they all wore proud smiles and applauded.
Lin Yu'an watched this scene unfold, seeing little Alek carrying the still-warm Thunderbird and showing it to his grandmother Maria like a hero.
He suddenly understood why Odak insisted on celebrating this festival and why he forced his urbanized children and grandchildren to return to this wasteland.
In this rapidly modernizing society, although the younger generation has left the ice fields, put on suits, picked up mice, and become a cog in the machine of globalization.
But as long as you are willing to return to this snowy land on Easter Day, willing to lie down, endure the cold, teach your children to pull the trigger, smell the gunpowder, and touch the feathers of your prey.
Therefore, the fragile thread of the Inuit hunter's soul has not yet been broken.
It was 10 p.m.
But the sun did not set; it merely glided to the northern horizon, transforming its originally blinding white light into a soft golden-red.
This is the famous "Midnight Sun". The entire ice field is dyed gold, and every iceberg looks like it is on fire.
When the children got tired of playing, they were wrapped in thick reindeer hides and slept haphazardly in the sled bed and windproof tent.
The two civil servants' sons and daughters-in-law were also clearing away the dishes, talking in hushed tones about Nuk's housing prices and their children's academic performance.
Those are troubles belonging to another world.
The fire in the stove gradually died down, leaving only a few pieces of charcoal emitting a faint red glow in the embers.
Audak took a sip of strong liquor, looked at his lively group of children and grandchildren, and then glanced at Lin Yu'an, who was adjusting Inuk's wheelchair beside him.
The old hunter's eyes gleamed with a light that seemed to have seen through the ways of the world.
He turned to Lin Yu'an and said in a soft voice, which, though carried by the cold wind, reached Lin Yu'an's ears: "Lin, this is why I can't live without Kanak."
Odak pointed south, in the direction of Nuk and Ilulissat, and also in the direction of the civilized world: "Nuk's house is probably warmer, and he doesn't have to empty his own chamber pot. The wages are higher there, there are cinemas, there are bars. My sons are doing very well there."
"But there—"
"You can't hear the thunderbirds' calls there, nor can you see the sun of this color."
Lin Yu'an fell silent, looking at the seemingly rough but actually wise old man in front of him.
Odak is not only protecting a way of life, but he is also using this almost stubborn tradition to fight against the black hole of modernization that is devouring the souls of his people.
"A toast to Thunderbird," Lin Yu'an said solemnly, raising his glass.
"A toast to the souls that have not yet departed." Odak clinked his cup together and drank it all in one gulp.
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