I learned from an elder that the astrologist Baldan was believed to be a reincarnation of a living Buddha. This is a story of Bichhan lama from Har Us and Baldan. Bichhan lama, as I heard, had endured nearly twenty years of imprisonment in Tarim for involvement in the Shar Süm or yellow Monastery’s lama revolt in 1958 in Har Us. When Bichhan lama was a young disciple in Shar Süm, Har Us, a group of seven lamas arrived at the monastery from Lhasa with a substantial caravan team. They claimed that one of the 108 living Buddhas had been reincarnated in the Ulaan Galzan family in Hobgosair. Motivated by this belief, they had embarked on a long journey to bring the boy to Lhasa for his coronation in a monastery. After a brief rest in Har Us, they continued their journey with Bichhan lama to locate the Ulaan Galzan family in Hobogsair. However, upon reaching a place called Tuulai, approximately 100 km south of Hobogsair, the weather suddenly turned unusually cloudy and foggy, obscuring the road for at least seven days. Frustrated with the adverse weather, an astrologist lama from the team predicted the weather and the journey’s auspiciousness, suggesting that the deities of Hobogsair, Arya Sampil and Dorj Chogdo, were preventing the team from taking the boy to Lhasa, as his assistance was needed for the Torghuts of Hobogsair in the future. The astrologist lama declared, “The foggy weather will persist, and we should return home; the deities are hindering our journey.” After extensive deliberation, the Tibetan delegation team decided to change the name of the place from Tuulai to Ulaan Khüree, aligning it with the living Buddha’s monastery in Lhasa, and they spent an entire day chanting sutras to demote the Buddha’s position to that of an astrologist before abandoning the journey to Lhasa. In the subsequent years, Baldan, the boy recognized as a living Buddha, grew up in Hobogsair, becoming a renowned astrologist figure. He earned the distinction of being the most knowledgeable of the 500 lamas in Hobogsair in his era. During my youth, I frequently met with astrologist Baldan, as he was trusted by my mother. When I was young, I had a friend name Boran Batnasan, who, had studied medicine in Bortala prefecture and started his medical career in 1990. He visited my home and urged me to follow in his footsteps and explore traditional Mongolian medicine. His proposal involved earning a living by treating patients and at the same time improving my life. Simultaneously, he generously gifted me a medical handbook, authored by Loozan Jamtsa, along with the herbal medicine recipes he had acquired. During this period in Narin Hovg town, where I was looking after my ailing mother, I seized the opportunity to read the book, and I gained a relatively comprehensive understanding of Mongolian traditional medicine after two months of studying it. According to the handbook, human beings can be infected by 388 types of diseases, of which 387 are curable with proper treatment. A notable distinction revealed that approximately 330 could be treated with herbal medicine, while the remaining 50 were ailments attributed to demons and evil spirits, necessitating specialized treatment such as ritual and witchcraft. Among the illustrated diseases, I encountered one related to wolves that affected one of my sons during the winter season. After herding the flock sheep home from pasture, some symptoms of illness showed on his body with red spots and constant itching, these seemed akin to what I had learned about the wolf bacillus, easily transmitted through skin contact or other objects. True to the book’s guidance, I followed the prescribed method, gathered dirt from the kennel and applied it to my son’s infected area and the red spots disappeared the following morning. Armed with ample information on Mongolian medicine from the handbook and after about three months meticulous reading, I transitioned from Loozan Jamtsa’s teaching to further explore Gibing, Jogong, Pagrim, Lariz, Jamtsa and more. However, those theoretical teachings were too confusing for me put into practice, so I then apprenticed myself to Doctor Namjil, practising the use of herbal medicine and mastering up to 32 different recipes and combining into a single dose. Whilst engrossed in the rigorous practice of herbal medicine with Doctor Namjil, my mother, acknowledging my persistent efforts, one day, thoughtfully prepared a bottle of milk for me to present as a gift to astrologist Baldan. The intention was to seek his esteemed opinion on my medical career. Acting on my mother’s suggestion, I made my way to Baldan’s home in Obootin Khüree from Narin Hovog town around noon. Upon arriving, I gladly assisted him in preparing a milk tea, arranging butter and barley flour from the cupboard to facilitate his lunch. As he crafted a substantial barley flour ball with butter, moistening it with the milk tea, I made a smaller one for myself to eat. The meal passed without extensive conversations between us. It was only as I washed the dishes to return them to the cupboard that he finally initiated a proper conversation, asking, “So, what brings you here today? I disclosed my intention for astrological prediction regarding the future of my children and my mother’s well-being. However, he directly turned the focus on me, asking, “what about you? What have you been up to recently?” These questions swiftly demolished my initial attempt to conceal my medical practice. Inquiring about my family history, he questioned how many generations I knew. I replied that I was aware of nine generations. He probed further, inquiring if any of them were knowledgeable lamas or doctors. Admitting that none of them were, I received his acknowledgement, “you’re right, quite honest.” After a pause, he shared insights into my family’s history. He mentioned a lama called Shatarchin Makhir, a chess player in the family, who became a pseudo-lama in Lhasa, dedicating his time solely to playing chess. Another ancestor, Erkhelji, practised Buddhism with him for ten years but only earned a junior apprenticeship diploma. Baldan then advised me to quit my medical pursuits, emphasizing that this profession was unsuitable for my ancestors and, by extension, for me. Disheartened by his comments, I nodded silently, received blessings from his Buddhist scriptures, and retreated to my previous spot near the door. I pondered that this lama had shattered all my aspirations to learn medicine. After a while, sensing my disappointment, Balden called me back, urging, “Come here, you brat. Do you think I am unaware of what’s going on in your head?”. Quoting Buddha’s teachings, he warned that despite becoming a skilled doctor, it would not bode well for my children, potentially turning me into a notorious doctor causing harms. He concluded by advising me to tighten my resolve and return home. Since then, I quit this profession for good. Baldan recently passed away, having lived for over eighty years. He devoted his life to Buddhism and the Torghuts in Hobogsair. Contrary to his wish for cremation, his relatives buried him at Tseher in Hazagin Hurun. His young niece, whom he told about his wishes, was away at university when he passed, and her parents chose to keep his demise a secret, considering her studies and emotional well-being. As a result, Baldan reincarnated in Lhasa a few years later, rather than among Torghuts in Hobogsair, and I heard that his niece, along with her parents, visited his reincarnation once in Lhasa several years ago. Despite being a famous lama in Hobogsair and helping numerous people overcome their troubles, it is regrettable that his life ended this way.