Chapter 894: Breaking the Balance, Qifu Swallows Three Tribes

Qifugu's two hundred cavalry reined in their horses three li outside the Tuhai tribe's camp. In the darkness, only the hot air sprayed from the horses' nostrils and the sound of the straps on the leather armor trembling slightly in the wind could be heard.

Amu Ri urged his horse to lean over from the side, suppressing his voice.

"Chieftain, the scouts in front have returned. There are only sixty-some tents lit with fire in the Tuhai tribe camp. Looking at the size of the firelight, they are all small stoves. There are no figures moving in the positions where there are no sentries."

Qifugu wrapped the reins around his wrist, the handle of the horizontal blade gripped by him until it creaked in his palm.

"Where is the livestock pen?"

Amu Ri extended his chin toward the darkness ahead.

"Northwest corner of the camp. Cattle and horses are penned together. The sheep flock is in a grass depression a bit further out. There are only two or three old men left watching the livestock."

Qifugu loosened the circle on the reins, and the horse's hooves stepped twice on the frozen soil.

"Lord Gao was right. The able-bodied men were all drawn away by the Royal Court. This is an empty shell."

He raised his left hand and clenched his fist, waving it forward in the night.

Two hundred riders in black armor surged forward silently; the sound of horse hooves muffled in the dry grass shattered into a dense, sandy rustle. The formation dispersed from a column into an arc, sweeping toward the northwest of the Tuhai Tribe camp like a net closing in.

Qifugu rode at the very front. When he was half a li away from the Tuhai tribe's livestock pen, he saw those few old herdsmen squatting on the ground dozing off. The fire had burned until only a little dark red ember remained, reflecting a few faces covered with wrinkles by wind and sand.

"Don't startle them. Drive the cattle and horses out of the pen mouth first."

Qifugu's voice leaked from between his teeth, light enough that only the cavalry within two steps beside him could hear.

Twenty cavalrymen separated from the two ends of the arc and bypassed to the rear of the livestock pen. The fence there was made of wooden stakes that had rotted halfway and hemp ropes tied together. One kick would knock down a patch.

When the first wooden stake was pulled out of the mud, it emitted a muffled sound. The few cattle closest to the outside in the pen turned their heads to look, spraying two groups of white gas from their nostrils.

Then more wooden stakes were pulled out simultaneously, and the fence collapsed section by section in the dark night like falling dominoes. The sound of hemp ropes breaking dragged out several short hissing sounds on the silent grasslands.

The cattle herd began to stir. The first to detect danger were those horses. Hundreds of horses exploded in the moment the pen fence collapsed, their front hooves digging randomly in the frozen soil, and the neighing sound spread from one horse to two horses and then to the entire horse herd, spreading like a lit fuse.

Qifugu clamped his horse's belly and rushed up. The horizontal blade was not unsheathed; he just pulled down the horse whip at his waist and flicked a whip flower that exploded with a crisp sound.

"Drive! Drive north!"

Two hundred black-armored cavalry approached the pen mouth that had been opened from three directions simultaneously. The sound of horse whips and shouting rose one after another in the darkness. The startled cattle and horse herd surged out from the pen mouth like a floodgate that had been opened. The sound of hooves gathered into a muffled sound like rolling thunder, and the frozen soil trembled.

Those few old herdsmen were awakened. When one of them climbed up from the ground, his legs didn't stand firm, and he tripped over the fire pile beside his feet and fell into the mud.

He raised his head and saw the black shadows of cavalry surging over like a tide. His mouth opened, wanting to shout, but only a hoarse air sound squeezed from his throat.

Another old herdsman picked up a shepherd's staff from beside the fire pile, gripped it in his hand, and raised it above his head. His withered and thin arms trembled into a sieve in the night wind.

Qifugu's horse swept past him from a position three steps away. He didn't stop, didn't look back at him, and the mud chunks rolled up by the horse's hooves hit the old herdsman's face.

"Don't worry about them, drive the livestock, drive them and go!"

Amu Ri's horse whip lashed twice on the tail of the cattle herd. A few old cattle that ran slowly were driven from the end of the team to the middle by him, and the entire herd of livestock surged toward the wilderness to the north like a surging black river.

In the camp, tent curtains began to be lifted. A woman with disheveled hair and a half-grown child crawled out of the tent, standing in the cold wind and watching all the livestock of their tribe being driven away by a group of cavalry of unknown origin and disappearing into the distance in the darkness.

Some women began to cry, some children began to scream, and an old woman with gray hair stumbled out, chasing for twenty steps before falling into a frozen earth ridge and

No one looked back at them.

Within half an hour, the two hundred black-armored riders drove away every head of livestock that could be driven from the Tuhai Tribe camp, not even sparing the few milk goats tied to the edge of the pens. The ropes were cut with a single stroke of a blade, and the goats were hoisted onto the horses and carried away, wedged between the cavalrymen's legs.

Qifugu reined in his horse on the northern slope five miles away from the Tuhai Tribe camp, looked back at the direction of the camp where crying had already erupted in the darkness, and curled the corners of his mouth.

"Amuri, how many heads are there on the Tuhai side?"

Amuri spurred his horse to catch up, his breathing not yet fully recovered, white mist puffing from his throat in one cloud after another.

"About seven hundred cattle, over four hundred horses; I haven't had time to count the sheep, but I estimate about a thousand."

Qifugu tucked his horsewhip back into his waist, his horizontal blade clinking once in its scabbard.

"What about the eastern route? Has news from the Seleng Tribe come back yet?"

Amuri fished a wooden stick tied with a colored cloth strip from his bosom and waved it in the night.

"The signal was received half an hour ago. The one hundred and fifty riders on the eastern route have already reached the outskirts of the Seleng Tribe camp. The situation there is the same as here; the camp is so empty that even the guard dogs don't have the spirit to bark."

Qifugu loosened his reins, letting his horse lower its head to graze on the withered grass at its feet.

"What about the western route? The Puchang Tribe side?"

Amuri fished out another wooden stick; the cloth strip tied to this one was a different color.

"The signal from the western route hasn't come back yet, but based on the travel time, they should have already started. There are only three or four hundred people on the Puchang side, and the able-bodied men only set out yesterday. The camp was emptied before even the pens were repaired; it's even easier to take than the Tuhai Tribe."

Qifugu tilted his neck and glanced at the sky; there was no moon, no stars, and the entire canopy of heaven was covered tightly by thick, heavy clouds.

"Let's go. Drive the livestock back. We must enter our own territory before dawn; not a single head can be lost on the road."

The two hundred black-armored riders escorted that black river of livestock as they continued to march north. The sound of horse hooves and cattle hooves mingled together, dragging a belt of noise that stretched for several miles across the empty grassland.

And at the Seleng Tribe camp fifty miles away, the one hundred and fifty riders on the eastern route had already completed the same task.

In the empty camp left behind after the Seleng Tribe chieftain moved south, only a few dozen old people who couldn't walk and a few forgotten sick people remained. They watched helplessly as Qifugu's men drove away the last cow in the pen, lacking even the strength to utter a sound.

An old herdsman with a lame leg sat on a stone at the entrance of his tent, watching the backs of those cavalrymen disappear behind the distant hills. His dry, cracked lips touched, and he spat out a sentence so fragmented it was almost inaudible.

"It's over."

The Puchang Tribe side was even more straightforward.

When the one hundred and fifty riders on the western route arrived at the Puchang Tribe camp, even the campfires had been extinguished. The tent flaps were flapping in the wind, and the interiors were empty with no sign of people, save for a few old women who truly couldn't walk, huddled under bedding in the corners of the tents, shivering with fear at the sudden sound of horse hooves outside.

The cattle, sheep, and horses in the livestock pens weren't even enclosed; they were just scattered on the grass grazing on withered stalks. After Qifugu's men arrived, they only needed to shout and drive the livestock in one direction; they didn't even need to dismantle the fences.

The entire operation took less than two hours from start to finish.

Before dawn, the three routes of cavalry had converged on the high slope north of the Qifu Tribe's new camp, followed by a herd of livestock so long its tail could not be seen. The lowing of cattle and the bleating of sheep merged into a noisy tide.

Qifugu stood on the highest rock on the high slope, hands on his hips, looking toward the south. A sliver of white light had just appeared on the horizon, and the entire grassland was still shrouded in gray twilight.

Amuri climbed up carrying a leather bag filled with mare's milk wine and handed it to Qifugu.

"Leader, all three routes have returned. In total, we've driven back over two thousand three hundred cattle, one thousand one hundred horses, and no fewer than four thousand sheep. Not one was lost on the way, and we didn't lose a single man."

Qifugu took the leather bag and tilted his head back to take a large gulp; the mare's milk wine spilled from the corner of his mouth, ran down his chin, and dripped onto the front of his iron armor.

"One thousand one hundred horses."

He tossed the bag back to Amuri and extended his tongue to lick the traces of milk wine from his lips.

"Adding those left behind by the Helan Tribe, this leader now has two thousand eight hundred horses in his hands."

Amuri squatted down beside him and tightened the opening of the leather bag.

"Leader, does the territory of these three tribes now belong to us as well?"

Qifugu jumped down from the rock, his boots hitting the frozen earth with a dull, powerful thud.

"Territory is territory, livestock is livestock. Don't rush the matter of territory; let's get the livestock penned and raised well first."

He walked down the high slope, took two steps toward the camp, then stopped and looked back at the outline of the grassland to the south, which was gradually becoming clear in the morning light.

"Amuri."

"Leader."

"The old, the weak, the women, and the children of those three families will find their own way to come and seek refuge with us after starving for three or five days."

Amuri stood up from the ground and patted the mud off his knees.

"Does the leader mean to take in the people as well?"

Qifugu turned around and continued walking toward the camp, his voice drifting back over his shoulder.

"Cattle and sheep won't graze themselves, and horses won't feed themselves beans. Take them in to do the work."

He walked to the row of newly erected hitching posts at the edge of the camp and reached out to pat the neck of the tall black horse tied to the post; the horse's skin beneath his palm was scalding hot and sweating.

"Send men to post notices at the camps of the three tribes, saying that the Qifu Tribe will take in all herdsmen who have nowhere else to go. If they come, they'll have a meal; if they don't, they can go wherever they like. This leader won't force them."

Amuri followed behind and acknowledged the order.

Qifugu vaulted onto his horse, turned around in the saddle, and swept a glance at the herd of livestock being driven into pens by the cavalry at the foot of the high slope. Those cattle, horses, and sheep were huddled into clumps of black shadows in the morning light, and noisy calls converged from all directions.

"Amuri, go invite Lord Gao over. This leader wants to drink a bowl with him."

Amuri spurred his horse and left; the sound of hooves struck the frozen earth a dozen times before disappearing into the depths of the camp.

When Gao Jiong arrived, Qifugu was already seated in his royal tent. On the low table were two bowls of mare's milk wine and half a roasted lamb leg, charred yellow. The aroma of meat mingled with the charcoal smoke from the brazier in the tent, creating a hot, gamey scent.

When Gao Jiong lifted the curtain and entered, he was still wearing that old fur coat, his boot shafts stained with mud, and new blood blisters had worn through the calluses on the web of his left hand—from whittling wooden stakes yesterday.

"Congratulations, Leader."

Gao Jiong sat down opposite the low table and casually picked up the bowl of mare's milk wine, taking a gulp. His brow furrowed as the wine went down his throat; it was too gamey.

Qifugu pushed the lamb leg toward Gao Jiong.

"Lord Gao, all three families have been taken. Just as you said, it didn't take any effort at all."

Gao Jiong tore off a strip of lamb meat and chewed it in his mouth, swallowing only after the third chew, then pointed to the unrolled cowhide map beside the low table.

"The territory now in the leader's hands connects from east to south. Adding the piece originally held by the Helan Tribe, the entire two-hundred-mile pasture in the southeast of the grassland belongs to the leader."

Qifugu picked up the wine bowl. When the rim touched his lips, he didn't rush to drink, but stared at Gao Jiong's face through the white mist rising from the wine.

"Lord Gao, I want to ask you a truthful question."

Gao Jiong didn't stop chewing the meat.

"Ask, Leader."

Qifugu set the wine bowl on the low table and leaned forward half an inch.

"When will Wen Geti come to cause trouble for this leader?"

Gao Jiong swallowed the meat in his mouth and wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

"He won't come."

Qifugu's eyebrows arched.

"Why wouldn't he? I've swallowed four tribes in one month; even if he were blind, he should know by now."

Gao Jiong fished a withered blade of grass from the pile of debris beside the low table, stuck it in his mouth, and leaned back against the cowhide wall of the tent.

"The leader will understand if he calculates the accounts."

He extended his right hand and counted off on his five fingers one by one.

"Wen Geti's total military strength is about forty thousand. Subtract the nine thousand six hundred blockading the border, subtract the three thousand watching the remnants of the Turks, subtract the five thousand for the royal court's headquarters guards and daily patrols, subtract the two thousand stationed at various post roads and checkpoints—how much mobile force does he have left?"

Qifugu calculated for two breaths in his mind.

"A little over twenty thousand."

Gao Jiong straightened up from the tent wall, the withered grass swaying at the corner of his mouth.

"A little over twenty thousand looks like a lot, but these twenty thousand men are scattered across dozens of outposts on the grassland. To assemble them to fight a war would take at least half a month. If the leader digests what he's eaten within half a month, Wen Geti will have no excuse to take action when he arrives."

Qifugu's fingers turned twice around the rim of the bowl.

"Excuse?"

Gao Jiong spat out the withered grass in his mouth and twitched the corner of his mouth.

"The leader didn't kill anyone, right? Not a single one of the old, weak, women, or children of the three tribes was touched, right?"

Qifugu nodded.

Gao Jiong's finger tapped once on the surface of the low table.

"If you don't kill, there's no blood debt; if there's no blood debt, there's no excuse to send troops. If Wen Geti wants to fight you, he must first give all the tribes on the grassland a justifiable reason. Otherwise, other tribes will feel that they are the next to be attacked, and the hearts of the people will scatter."

Qifugu picked up the wine bowl and took a large gulp. This time he drank heartily, the wine spilling from the corner of his mouth and running down his chin.

"Lord Gao means that as long as this leader doesn't see blood, Wen Geti can only watch?"

Gao Jiong picked up another blade of withered grass from the ground and stuck it in his mouth.

"He won't just watch. He will send people to question the leader about why you seized the livestock of the three tribes. At that time, the leader only needs to say one thing."

"What thing?"

Gao Jiong's eyeballs rolled once under the firelight; the things contained in those eyes were colder than the brazier in the tent.

"The leader should just say that the people of those three tribes all ran away, and the livestock were scattered on the grassland with no one to look after them. This leader kindly gathered them for the royal court, considering it as sharing the Khan's worries."

A low chuckle rolled from Qifugu's throat, the sound bouncing back and forth twice against the cowhide walls of the tent.

"Kindly sharing the Khan's worries—Lord Gao, that's a beautiful way to put it."

Gao Jiong pulled the withered grass from his mouth and twirled it between his fingers.

"Leader, remember: no matter how many families' things you eat in the future, always say this to the outside world: 'This leader is looking after ownerless livestock and pastures for the Khan, and will return them whenever the Khan asks.'"

Qifugu downed the rest of the wine in the bowl and slapped the empty bowl onto the low table.

"Return them? Who the hell would return them?"

Gao Jiong stood up and pulled his old fur coat around himself.

"That is why this official speaks of rhetoric; what the leader thinks in his heart and what he says with his mouth are two different things."

He walked to the tent curtain and stopped for a step, looking back at Qifugu, who was still sitting behind the low table.

"After this official returns, I will report this merit, and the leader can just wait for the fine grain."

Qifugu stood up from behind the low table, the hilt of his horizontal blade hitting the edge of the table with a crisp sound.

"Lord Gao, this leader has one more question."

Gao Jiong's hand rested on the curtain without lifting it.

"Speak, Leader."

Qifugu's voice dropped two degrees, carrying a gloom squeezed out from between his teeth.

"How big exactly does your Pillar of State want this leader to grow?"

Gao Jiong's hand released the curtain and he turned around. A smile of ambiguous meaning appeared on that face, roughened by wind and sand; the smile hung on the corners of his mouth for only two breaths before it was wiped clean.

"The leader doesn't need to worry about this; the leader only needs to know one thing."

Qifugu stared at him.

Gao Jiong stuck the withered grass back into his mouth and mumbled the final sentence.

"Eat as much as you can; if you get bloated, that's the leader's ability. As for how to digest it later..."

He tilted his head, and the withered grass at the corner of his mouth swayed along with it.

"That's a matter for later."

The curtain fell behind him, and a gust of cold wind from outside the tent blew in, pressing the flame in the brazier down by an inch.

Qifugu stood beside the low table, his palm pressed against the hilt of his horizontal blade, his fingers tightening one by one. When they were at their tightest, his knuckles made a faint, creaking sound.

He knew Gao Jiong hadn't answered his question.

He also knew the answer to this question wasn't in Gao Jiong's mouth, but in the hands of that young man sitting in the main hall of the Xiazhou Governor's Office thousands of miles away.

It was already broad daylight outside the tent. The lowing of livestock and the shouts of cavalrymen came from all directions in the camp. The Qifu Tribe's new camp had expanded more than threefold overnight; everywhere there were figures busy penning, erecting stakes, driving cattle, and dividing horses.

Qifugu walked to the tent entrance and lifted the curtain. The morning light hit his face, illuminating his eyes, which were burned red by desire, making them shine.

He looked at the camp before him, which had grown from one tent to dozens, watched the thousands of livestock driven from the three tribes huddling together in the new pens, and watched the few old herdsmen who had defected from the Tuhai Tribe camp being led toward the tent area.

These were all his now.

The corners of Qifugu's mouth pulled apart. That smile was greedy to the point of distortion, looking in the morning light like the tongue of a wolf that hadn't had time to retract after licking up blood.