Chapter 76: Training and Night School

This night was destined to be unforgettable for the herders and slaves of the Buluhui tribe: the new shaman was strange—he not only halted human sacrifice but also freed all slaves, and most strangely, he became furious when the slaves knelt before him, bowing their heads and expressing gratitude.

Whether tribal leaders or former shamans, they had always been delighted when people knelt and bowed to them; even they themselves would have been happy if anyone knelt and bowed to them.

They simply could not understand someone who disliked being bowed to, but they did not dwell on it, for another shaman was already leading the tribe’s nakhar to count every household’s population.

Nie Huaishang held his notebook and questioned each household one by one, cross-referencing the records provided by Buluhui, shaking his head repeatedly—Buluhui’s family was truly adept at squeezing every last drop; with only a few Battalion Commander, they had amassed so much gold, silver, and jewels.

After completing the population count, Nie Huaishang and Guo Jing disbanded the meeting and ordered everyone to return here in a week for another assembly.

When all the herders had gradually left, the slaves who still stood straight were conspicuously out of place; seeing they had not left, Guo Jing stepped forward and asked: “What’s wrong? Suddenly free, and now you don’t know where to go?”

All the slaves nodded. Guo Jing sighed and said: “Alright, stay with us this week and help us with some tasks. In a week, we’ll settle you properly—the tribe will provide meals.”

No sooner had Guo Jing finished than the five hundred nakhar erupted in uproar; finally, one stepped forward and asked: “Shaman, you’re far too benevolent—you’ve already granted them freedom, so why feed them too?”

Guo Jing frowned: “What do you mean? They work for me—I owe them meals. And if I don’t feed them, am I to let them starve?”

The reprimanded nakhar looked wounded: “But we—the ones who protect the tribe—aren’t fed either.”

“You aren’t fed? You—the ones who risk your lives to protect the tribe—does the tribe not even feed you?” Guo Jing asked in disbelief, then turned to Buluhui Wuge: “You’ve gone too far.”

Buluhui Wuge smiled awkwardly and immediately scolded the nakhar: “Hamming, what are you implying? Has your master ever mistreated you? Every time we raided, you hid loot for yourself—I’ve turned a blind eye!”

“Enough,” Guo Jing cut him off before he finished, then bowed deeply to Hamming: “I scolded you without understanding the situation—that was my fault. I apologize.”

Then he addressed the five hundred nakhar: “You are all brave warriors defending the tribe. You bear such heavy responsibility—how could you possibly prepare your own meals? I’ve decided: from tomorrow, the tribe will provide you free meals daily, and also give grain for your families to take home.”

Instantly, the five hundred nakhar cheered wildly; by contrast, Buluhui Wuge was heartbroken—so much grain, wasted on these lowly slaves and commoners! Such food could have bought dozens of young, beautiful female slaves.

“Enough with the thanks,” Guo Jing waved them off. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll train you. Only those who complete the training may stay.” He dismissed the tribe and entered the large tent with Nie Huaishang.

Members of the Buluhui family stood voluntarily before the tent, ensuring they remained within sight—the three palm thunder strikes delivered by Guo Jing had shattered all their plans.

As soon as they entered the tent, Nie Huaishang blurted: “While counting the population, I also estimated the herders’ assets—there’s almost nothing. Since the pastures belong to the Buluhui family, every time a herder’s ewe gives birth, the lamb must be surrendered. Thus, the nobles’ flocks grow larger, the herders’ smaller, until the herders have no choice but to sell themselves into slavery.”

“And this tribe treats its soldiers with brutal harshness. Before arriving, I often wondered: why did Mongol soldiers endure such hardship—supplying their own weapons, armor, horses, even rations, with no compensation—and still follow Temujin? Because Temujin distributed the spoils. But this tribe hoards everything. Just now, Buluhui Wuge even had the nerve to pretend he turned a blind eye to soldiers hiding loot.”

Guo Jing shook his head: “The suffering of the people far exceeds our imagination. Liberating the masses is a long, arduous path. Huaishang, for now, take these slaves and inventory the tribe’s livestock and supplies. In seven days, distribute livestock according to household size and condition—give extra to families with soldiers.”

“Understood,” Nie Huaishang nodded. “But you must move faster. You have much to do: train the troops to improve combat readiness, educate them ideologically to raise their political awareness. You must turn these five hundred into officers with unshakable conviction and solid military discipline—all in a short time, because Temujin has left us little time.”

These seven days were undeniably grueling yet joyful for the five hundred soldiers: the new shaman trained them strictly—and strangely. In the past, tribal lords never trained them—they could ride and shoot arrows from childhood; they were conscripted only to collect taxes door to door.

Other tribes trained soldiers in riding, archery, martial arts—but their training was how to stand, how to march, how to turn left and right.

They simply could not fathom the purpose of such training—how could it help them fight others?

But no matter what, as long as they completed the shaman’s daily drills, he gave them grain. Seeing the grain, they were happy—it was enough to feed their mothers and families.

Of course, they had no intention of eating it all—such good fortune could never last; nobles would never sustain a losing proposition.

No one would undertake a losing proposition.

This grain was vital when harsh weather struck.

Besides daily daytime training, there was night school: the other Nie shaman taught them knowledge—Han script, Mongol script, arithmetic, bookkeeping.

In Nie the shaman’s words, graduating from his class would make them qualified shamans, better able to serve the masses, bring happiness to all, and teach others to become shamans too.

The students didn’t understand the middle part, but they memorized the first sentence—becoming a shaman—and the last—teaching others to become shamans.

All secretly resolved to study hard, graduate soon, and teach what they learned to their children, so their children might also become fine shamans.