Chapter 55: Snowflakes Blown by the Strong Wind

Palm-sized snowflakes began to fall again. Baifeng sighed with emotion, but Sui asked curiously, "These snowflakes are only as big as a fingertip, why do you say they are palm-sized?" Baifeng put his hands behind his back and said with affected profundity, "You are still young; you will understand when you reach my age."

In the Youxiong Clan tribe, a robust youth wrapped in animal skins, with his feet bundled in thick layers of grass, walked arduously through the heavy snow. His father, Shaodian, the leader of the Youxiong Clan, had ordered him to inspect the tribe and show concern for whether the clansmen were suffering from the cold and if they had enough food to eat.

This youth was Xuanyuan, the young Tribal Chief of the Youxiong Clan. Unlike smaller tribes where a Tribal Chief could be killed at will by a stronger person and replaced, the Tribal Chiefs of such large tribes would certainly pass their position to their sons in the future.

His father, Shaodian, had inherited the land of Qingqiu from a grandfather he had never met. Their tribe was called the Youxiong Clan. His father's brother had inherited the Yan of the Lieshan Clan, and the son most beloved by Grandfather Shennong had inherited the largest and most prosperous Shennong Clan, Linkui.

The Youxiong Clan still needed to accept the jurisdiction and orders of the Shennong Clan and also had to pay a portion of their grain as tribute. There was no help for it; although the Youxiong Clan tribe had been granted to his father by his grandfather, in reality, it was still a subordinate tribe of the Shennong Clan, as was the Lieshan Clan.

Xuanyuan looked down upon that uncle of his, whom he had also never met. He was incompetent and lecherous; having inherited the greatest wealth, he did not know how to cherish it, causing the Shennong Clan to decline more and more. If he were in charge of the Shennong Clan, he would certainly be able to make it even more powerful than it was during the time of the first-generation leader, and he would be able to make all the tribes submit.

As the youth Xuanyuan walked in the snow, the thought of an incompetent person occupying a high position while his own ambitions could not be realized, and the fact that his father still considered him a child and was unwilling to grant him more power, caused fire to rise in his chest.

From a young age, Xuanyuan knew that he would one day possess a large tribe of nearly ten thousand people, so he needed to learn many things: how to farm, how to identify edible food, how to hunt, and he also had to practice Bow and Arrow and Sword techniques. At a very young age, he already possessed a Bronze Sword that others could only envy.

But what his father taught him most was how to win over people's hearts and how to win over subordinates. So, even now, with heavy snow falling, Xuanyuan would throw his thick fur cloak to the thinly clad attendant Soldier who was patrolling with him. Even if that Soldier could not wear it, he would kneel on the ground and speak words of gratitude to the young Tribal Chief.

In fact, even without his father's order, Xuanyuan wanted to go and check on his clansmen. Doing so was not for the sake of winning hearts, but because he felt it should be this way; this was what he, as the future Tribal Chief, should do.

The clansmen were crowded into narrow wooden sheds, while some had animal skin Tents. Many were squeezed together, and when Xuanyuan entered, he even felt it was somewhat difficult to breathe. Every time a door or curtain was opened, the heat would instantly escape and cold wind would rush in, yet not a single clansman felt dissatisfied; instead, they were very grateful that the young Tribal Chief had come to visit them in such weather.

After checking on the clansmen, only forty-some people had frozen to death, and another dozen or so had been smothered to death after being buried by Tents collapsed under the weight of the snow. Xuanyuan felt this loss was completely acceptable. As for the corpses, once the weather warmed up, there would naturally be people to clean them up.

On the way back, he took the opportunity to check on the penned livestock. Some cattle and sheep were all safe and sound, but unexpectedly, he saw a Slave hiding under the belly of a cow to avoid the snow. The attendant Soldier was furious, charged in directly, dragged the Slave out, and killed him with one strike of his Sword. Blood stained the snow, but the hot blood was quickly frozen by the low temperature, leaving only a small patch of snow glowing red, which would soon be buried along with the corpse by the pure white Snow.

There were also thousands of emaciated Slaves crouching beside woodpiles, huddled together for warmth, with no covering on their bodies at all, neither animal skin nor cloth.

They made not a sound, all with their heads bowed, their bodies covered in Snow. If not for the white mist rising from that area, one would really not know there were people there; it was just unclear how many were still alive.

Seeing that the clansmen were basically all well, Xuanyuan felt relieved and stepped through the snow, walking toward the cave where he lived.

At the same time, in the Jiuli tribe, a chubby boy with two braids was moving through a bamboo forest, holding a black and white fur ball. The heavy Snow had broken too many bamboo stalks, making the already narrow bamboo path even harder to traverse.

Fortunately, he was followed by over a dozen massive Soldiers with muscles like stone, who could crush the bamboo blocking the way with a single grasp, clearing the path for this young Tribal Chief of the Jiuli, Chiyou.

His father said he had thirty Copper-Headed Iron-Browed Warriors. Chiyou was very unconvinced and felt his father's proud expression was detestable. He thought to himself, "When I grow up and take charge of the Jiuli tribe, I will have fifty—no! I will have eighty-one Copper-Headed Iron-Browed brothers. They are my brothers, not Soldiers. I will certainly be stronger than him."

However, there was no need to worry about the number of Copper-Headed Iron-Browed brothers for now; finding edible Iron for this iron-eating beast in his arms was the most important thing. The clansmen had found this tiny iron-eating beast while out, and instead of killing it, they had presented it directly to the leader of the Jiuli Tribe, Jiangqiong.

His father, the Tribal Chief, had originally intended to kill this iron-eating beast to see if there was any undigested Iron in its stomach. Chiyou would not allow it and insisted on taking the iron-eating beast. He had once heard a Sage passing through the tribe say that immortals would ride giant fish, and there were also immortals who rode eagles. There were also those who rode a kind of handsome animal, which seemed to be called a fire-beast; when it ran, it was as swift and beautiful as a wildfire burning in autumn.

Chiyou had never seen a giant fish that could carry people, nor could he catch a giant eagle or that kind of beautiful animal for him to ride. In their territory, there were only huge wild cattle, which were exceptionally violent; the Soldiers who tried to ride them were all tossed up by the cattle, gored by their horns, and trampled into meat paste after falling.

Having finally encountered the legendary iron-eating beast, he heard that this kind of wild beast was only found very far to the west of the great mountains. It was huge, its strength was even more terrifying than the black bears they had here, and it only ate Iron, that precious metal that could only be refined occasionally.

Chiyou would absolutely not let go of the chance to own an iron-eating beast as a mount. He begged his father for the round, chubby iron-eating beast cub and kept it in his cave. But no matter whether he fed it ore or refined Bronze, it would not eat a single bite. Chiyou had thought that if he starved it for a few days it would eat, but he only saw it becoming weaker and weaker without opening its mouth. Chiyou had no choice but to hold it, hoping to find the Iron it would eat in the place where it was discovered.

Chiyou sped along holding the iron-eating beast. After entering the bamboo forest, the iron-eating beast opened its eyes, seemingly having regained some spirit, and struggled, wanting to get down and walk, but Chiyou was afraid it would run away, so he held it in his arms and would not let go.

The iron-eating beast became increasingly restless and even let out a sharp cry. Chiyou did not know what it was anxious about and became anxious himself, but he had no way to help, until a thin bamboo twig fell in front of Chiyou, was grabbed by the iron-eating beast, and then put into its mouth to chew happily.

The strong wind blew up white Snow, blowing it into the shapes of various animals on the Wasteland. Sui shouted loudly, "Look, that is a very large snake, and that one, it looks like a bear! The wind blowing them makes it look like they are fighting."

Baifeng, who was squatting at the entrance watching the Snow with Sui, chuckled and said, "What a fine dragon-contention... er, bear-fight."