Chapter 877: Chen Yan sits on the ground and gives rise to greed

Gao Jiong's fourteen large carts stopped at the bend of a dry river valley, the red sandstone walls on both sides of the river valley blocking most of the north wind, but the cross-breeze leaking in from the rock crevices could still make one's ear roots ache.

Songqi squatted beside the lead cart, wiping the blood rust on his dagger with a piece of cloth, stopped after wiping three times, and tilted his head to look at the south of the river valley.

"Coming."

Gao Jiong sat on the cart shaft, his two legs dangling, holding that willow whip for driving horses in his hand, hearing Songqi's words, he didn't look toward the south.

"How many people?"

Songqi squinted and counted.

"Horses probably have the shadows of more than two thousand, sixty or seventy people driving the horses, and a circle of cavalry on the periphery, about one hundred people."

Gao Jiong turned the willow whip half a circle in his palm.

"Did Chen Yan personally come?"

Songqi looked twice more.

"The strong man riding on the variegated flower horse at the very front, with eagle feather braids hanging on his neck, should be him."

Gao Jiong jumped off the cart shaft, pulled the collar of his fur coat, and hung that bent-waist accompanying-smile merchant face again.

The hoof sounds came from far to near, crushing the gravel and frozen soil at the bottom of the river valley.

Chen Yan rode on the variegated flower horse, wearing a new leather armor he had looted from the Helan Clan, with several pieces of blood stains not wiped clean remaining on the armor surface.

He reined in the horse at a position three steps away from Gao Jiong, the horse hooves digging twice on the gravel before stopping steadily.

When he jumped off the horse, his boots hit the frozen soil, and gravel splashed two steps away.

"Merchant, this leader's horses have come."

Gao Jiong bent his waist and swept toward the horse herd direction.

"Leader is straightforward, this official will look at the goods."

He walked a few steps toward the horse herd, reached out and patted the front leg and shoulder blade of the nearest horse, touched from head to tail along the horse spine line, and pried open the horse mouth to look at the teeth.

"Six-year-old mouth, top-grade sturdy horse, shoulder height not lower than four feet three."

He walked to the front of the next horse and repeated the same action.

Songqi followed behind, holding a short charcoal stick and a wooden board in his hand, recording while walking.

Gao Jiong looked at more than ten, his voice having no fluctuation.

"Horses are not bad, but this official counted, your horse herd mixed in at least two hundred pack horses and breeding mares in this batch, these horses are okay for long roads, but three points of fat are missing for going to battle."

Chen Yan's brows twisted.

"Two thousand warhorses are two thousand warhorses, this leader's words don't give discounts."

Gao Jiong withdrew his hand from the horse back and rubbed it on his fur coat.

"Leader doesn't give discounts, but the price of pack horses and warhorses is different, this principle the leader should understand."

Chen Yan's eyebrows twisted.

"What do you mean?"

Gao Jiong sat on a large rock beside the horse herd, his two legs spread, placing the willow whip across his knees.

"This official talked to the leader before about two thousand warhorses for five thousand piculs of millet plus three thousand jin of refined salt plus one thousand cotton clothes plus five hundred horizontal blades."

His fingers tapped on the whip twice.

"But the leader mixed in pack horses and breeding mares, pack horses are calculated at sixty percent, breeding mares at seventy percent, the leader calculates for himself how much should be discounted."

Chen Yan's face muscles jumped twice.

He turned his head to look at the group of horses behind him, then turned back to stare at Gao Jiong.

Silent for five or six breaths.

Then his voice sank by half, the arc of the corner of his mouth carrying a kind of probing meaning.

"Merchant, this leader tells you one thing."

Gao Jiong looked at him.

"Leader speaks."

Chen Yan took out a horizontal blade from his waist, turned it twice in his hand, the blade edge flashing a cold light in the river valley light.

"Two thousand horses, this leader can exchange all pack horses for warhorses, not mixed, but your price must be added."

Gao Jiong's eyelids lifted by half.

"Add what?"

Chen Yan threw the horizontal blade into the air and caught it again.

"Five hundred horizontal blades are not enough, this leader wants one thousand."

The river valley was quiet for three breaths.

Songqi squatted behind the large rock, the short charcoal stick in his hand stopped in mid-air, the half of his face on the scar side tightened into a line.

Gao Jiong sat on the rock without moving, the willow whip bouncing on his knees.

"Is the leader bargaining with this official?"

Chen Yan tucked the horizontal blade back into his waist, crossed his arms on his chest, and his voice pulled up again.

"This leader now has more than ten thousand cattle,

He tilted his chin toward the direction of the caravan behind Gao Jiong.

"I know exactly how many horizontal sabers are in your carts. Last time you gave three hundred, this time you claim five hundred—that's eight hundred in total—but in the hidden compartments of those dozen carts, the supplies are even more than that."

He took a step forward, his boot tips less than two feet from Gao Jiong.

"I did such a huge favor for you, taking down the Helan Clan, killing the Royal Court's envoy, and bearing the crime of exterminating a clan, and you're trying to dismiss me with eight hundred sabers?"

Gao Jiong's wicker whip stopped on his knee.

He looked up at Qifugu, the merchant's smiling face still hanging on the corners of his mouth, but the look in his eyes had changed.

Qifugu took another half-step forward, his voice carrying an inflation born from the excitement of having just won a battle.

"Besides, you only brought fifty men, and I have over a hundred cavalrymen with me. Who do you think is in charge in this river valley?"

When these words hit the gravel ground, the rock walls on both sides of the valley echoed them twice.

Songqi's hand had already touched the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

The few hidden agents behind the rocks also lowered their bodies by half an inch, pulling the strings of their sleeve crossbows to the final notch before the trigger.

The arc at the corners of Gao Jiong's mouth, which had been there for three days, vanished in that single breath.

It vanished cleanly and decisively, without even an extra movement of the lip muscles.

He stood up from the rock, the wicker whip sliding off his knee and falling onto the gravel; he did not pick it up.

"Chief Qifugu."

His voice was not loud, but the tone was no longer in the same dimension as the fawning, wine-selling Fengzhou merchant from before.

Qifugu's step faltered on the half-step he had taken.

Gao Jiong slowly pulled something out from the collar of his fur coat.

A Mingjing Si iron plaque.

He did not show the front, merely held the plaque vertically between his fingers; the dark patterns on it were unclear in the shadows of the valley, but the cold light of the iron cut across Qifugu's line of sight.

"This official has three questions for the Chief."

Qifugu's voice dropped two notches, and his arms, which had been crossed over his chest, loosened slightly.

Gao Jiong's fingers flipped the plaque over.

"First question: The Helan Clan was wiped out by the Turks; who helped the Chief concoct this story?"

Qifugu's Adam's apple bobbed.

Gao Jiong tapped his finger on the iron plaque.

"Second question: The iron material for the eight hundred horizontal sabers in the Chief's hands was produced by the Great Zhou Weaponry Bureau, and the patterns on the blade spines were pressed using molds unique to that bureau. If this official leaks this news to the people of Yun Geti, how many more days does the Chief think the story of the Turks wiping out the Helan Clan can hold up?"

Qifugu's lips moved twice, but not a single word came out.

Gao Jiong put away the iron plaque, tucking it back into the inner pocket of his fur coat.

"Third question: The Chief just said he has over a hundred cavalrymen with him, while this official only has fifty. Who is in charge in this river valley?"

His fingers clicked against the edge of his fur coat.

Behind the rock walls on both sides of the valley, over a dozen Mingjing Si hidden agents popped half their heads out from different positions.

The crossbow arms of their sleeve crossbows glinted with a dark metallic luster in the sunlight, each bolt aimed at the direction of the hundred cavalrymen behind Qifugu.

Qifugu scanned both sides, the thick braid on his neck swinging behind his shoulder, the eagle feathers at the end of the braid trembling in the wind.

Gao Jiong walked up to him, the distance between the two shrinking to less than a foot.

"The Chief's hundred cavalrymen are quite impressive, but every one of this official's crossbow bolts is tipped with a special iron arrowhead from the Great Zhou Weaponry Bureau. They can penetrate double-layered cowhide armor within twenty paces; the old armor the Chief scavenged from the Helan Clan won't block even half a bolt."

Qifugu's fingers moved away from the hilt of his horizontal saber.

Gao Jiong's voice sank one final notch.

"This official can give the Chief a thousand sabers, or even two thousand, but only on the condition that this official is willing to give them."

He took a step back.

"Only if this official gives them does the Chief have them; if this official doesn't give them, the origin of those eight hundred horizontal sabers in the Chief's hands is a bomb that can explode at any time, buried right under the Chief's own feet."

Qifugu's complexion turned from red to white, and then from white to a heavy, grayish-blue hue.

His eyes rested on Gao Jiong's face for five breaths.

Then his shoulders slumped, his waist bent by a third, and when his voice emerged from beneath his teeth, it carried the hoarseness of someone who had been crushed by survival and fear.

"Whatever the Lord says, we shall do."

Gao Jiong slowly hung that merchant's smile back on his face.

"The Chief is straightforward."

He retreated to the side of the large rock and sat down on its surface, picking up the wicker whip from the gravel and placing it on his knees.

"Two thousand warhorses, no pack horses mixed in. This official will give you five thousand piculs of millet, three thousand catties of fine salt, one thousand cotton coats, and five hundred horizontal sabers. Not a single coin more, not a single coin less."

Qifugu's lips moved.

Gao Jiong looked at him.

"Does the Chief still want to raise the price?"

Qifugu closed his mouth.

"The Chief shouldn't feel cheated."

Gao Jiong's fingers tapped slowly on the whip.

"This official's millet and fine salt can keep the Chief's tribesmen alive through this winter, and the cotton coats will allow the Chief's cavalry to ride without having to wrap themselves in tattered felt. Five hundred horizontal sabers, added to the previous three hundred, will make eight hundred elite cavalry—the second strongest armed force in the eastern grasslands."

His voice carried a steady, unhurried rhythm.

"The Chief's life was saved by this official, the Chief's territory was taken with this official's help, and the sabers in the Chief's hands were given by this official."

He stood up and patted the gravel dust off his fur coat.

"This official didn't make the Chief kneel to anyone, nor did this official make the Chief pay taxes. This official only requires the Chief to be quiet when it's time to be quiet, and to bite when it's time to bite. Is this relationship enough to qualify for the Chief to say a little less nonsense?"

Qifugu's throat choked up.

He looked back at the hundred cavalrymen behind him; the cavalrymen were also looking at him, each of their faces carrying an indescribable tension.

He turned back.

"Two thousand warhorses, I'll have them driven over now."

Gao Jiong sat back down on the rock.

"Inspect them first. Once inspected, this official's grain and salt will be delivered simultaneously. The cotton coats and horizontal sabers will be sent to the south slope of the Chief's new pasture via the secret tunnel three days later."

Qifugu nodded, breathing heavily, and turned to walk two steps toward the cavalry, then paused.

He looked back at Gao Jiong, his voice lowered to a range only the two of them could hear.

"Lord, this Chief has one more question."

Gao Jiong looked at him.

"The person behind you, what exactly do they want?"

Gao Jiong's fingers paused on the wicker whip for a beat.

"The Chief doesn't need to know what the person behind this official wants."

He snapped the whip in the air.

"The Chief only needs to know that the more obedient you are, the longer your tribesmen will live."

Qifugu's mouth twitched, and as he pulled the reins to walk back, his boot soles dragged a crooked trail through the gravel.

Songqi crawled out from behind the rock and squatted next to Gao Jiong.

"Boss, what if he had actually made a move just now?"

Gao Jiong jumped down from the rock and patted the dust off his trouser legs.

"He wouldn't have made a move."

Songqi scratched his scar.

"How can you be so sure?"

Gao Jiong walked toward the herd of horses, throwing a sentence back over his shoulder at Songqi.

"The more debt a person owes, the smaller their courage becomes."

He patted the front leg of the first warhorse, feeling the elasticity of the tendons, and the arc at the corner of his mouth returned.

"What he owes this official can no longer be calculated in silver."

The neighing of the herd echoed three times in the river valley, and gravel flew everywhere, kicked up by hooves.

Songqi and a few hidden agents began to inspect the horses one by one, charcoal sticks marking the wooden boards rapidly.

Gao Jiong walked to the tail of the herd and looked at the dozen or so horses tied separately to a long rope at the very back.

The coats of these horses were two shades darker than the ones in front, and their shoulder height was half an inch shorter, but their leg lines were thick and sturdy, and their hooves were broad—they were clearly endurance breeds accustomed to long-distance running on the grasslands.

He reached out and touched the hindquarter muscle of one of them, his fingers pausing on the muscle texture for a breath.

"Songqi, record these fourteen separately; they don't count toward the two thousand."

Songqi ran over from the front.

"What's wrong, Boss?"

Gao Jiong patted the horse's neck.

"These fourteen are stallions, top-tier goods for breeding. Qifugu mixed them into the pile of warhorses, trying to pull a fast one."

His voice faded by half a degree.

"Record it, and when you go back, tell the Pillar of State that the stallions are calculated separately."

Songqi swiped fourteen vertical marks on the wooden board.

Gao Jiong pulled his hand back from the horse's neck and wiped it on his fur coat.

From the south side of the river valley came the shouting of Qifugu directing the cavalry to drive the horses; hooves made a clattering sound on the gravel, and dust was blown away by the wind between the rock walls.

Gao Jiong stood at the end of the herd, his voice lowered to a level only the wind could hear.

"Two thousand horses exchanged for five thousand piculs of inferior millet—the Pillar of State's business deal is too beautiful."

He pulled the iron pen and a new piece of cowhide from his boot, dipped it in ink, and rapidly drew two lines of cipher on the hide.

Two thousand horses acquired, Qifu tamed, trade route can be relayed, please let the Pillar of State decide the ownership of the stallions.

He folded the cowhide, stuffed it into a copper tube, and handed it to the hidden agent beside him.

"The fastest pigeon, deliver it to Xia Prefecture tonight."

The hidden agent took the copper tube and turned to run, his figure disappearing at the bend of the river valley.

Gao Jiong walked back to the caravan, sat on the wagon shaft, legs dangling, and picked up the wicker whip again.

The rock walls on both sides of the river valley blocked half of Qifugu's shouting, but the sound of hooves and the lowing of cattle poured in from the south in waves, becoming increasingly dense.

Gao Jiong closed his eyes, the arc at the corner of his mouth bending at an extremely shallow angle in the wind.

From today on, the lifeblood of the Qifu Tribe was tied to that thin thread extending from Xia Prefecture.

The other end of the thread was held in Chen Yan's hand.