Chapter 269: Getting Off the Horse

The tranquility by the lake was broken by a patter of footsteps. Abaoji’s elder sister came trotting, whispering to Huyan Guanyin. Having hastily learned some Mang language, Xu Fengnian gathered that a ewe was about to give birth, and Huyan Guanyin seemed to be an expert at lambing. They went to the sheepfold together, where Xu Fengnian quietly watched her expertly deliver the lamb. After successfully completing the task, she brushed a strand of hair from her temple, her face beaming with a smile. Due to their flight and migration, most of the tribe’s sheep were thin and lacked fat; merely surviving the harsh winter was already incredibly difficult. Lambing, therefore, became the top priority after setting up camp.

The energetic Abaoji couldn't stay still. He chased around the sheepfold and, with a move like a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey, finally managed to catch a smaller lamb. He grabbed its left hoof, stood up, and then wildly swung the lamb around with an air of absolute dominance, leaving Xu Fengnian quite dumbfounded. The boy's sister stood with hands on hips, scolding him. When reasoning failed, she would twist his ear. After the boy released the lamb, his sister, caught off guard, went to catch other lambs. During this, she was kicked countless times by their hooves, ending up covered in mud and dung. It wasn't until Huyan Guanyin, now free, gently persuaded him that he finally let go of the poor lamb in the pen. Abaoji refused to bathe, and even Huyan Guanyin couldn't convince him. Xu Fengnian grabbed the mischievous boy by the collar, swung him over, and tossed him into the lake. The boy wasn't angry; he just swam freely in the lake, gleefully laughing.

For the next two days, Xu Fengnian observed the laborious tasks of this small tribe. Everyone, regardless of gender or age, had clearly defined roles and no one could shirk their duties. From herding, milking, making cheese, digging wells, shearing wool, tanning hides, making felt, collecting dung, to twisting hemp, there was always something to do as long as one had the strength. Xu Fengnian did not offer to help; he simply calculated in silence the land costs required for a herdsman, or rather, a mounted warrior. He learned from Huyan Guanyin that in the previous generation, several members of their tribe had served in the Kheshig Guard of the Beiliang Royal Court, which allowed the tribe to be exempt from many miscellaneous taxes. Otherwise, with their current manpower and resources, they would have had to hunt large wild animals or even raid other tribes to sustain themselves. However, both activities carried immense risks; even a slight misstep could lead to the tribe's complete annihilation. On the plains, small tribes of this size dwindled or were absorbed daily. Having migrated here, they were fortunate to occupy a lake, and could only hope for the local Xiti’s leniency and the weakness of neighboring tribes.

During this time, Xu Fengnian had a secret discussion with the old tribal chief. Afterward, Huyan Guanyin finally wore a hastily made, crude mask, astonishing the tribal herdsmen and making them increasingly view Xu Fengnian as a mysterious figure, a reincarnation of a Bodhisattva. At noon on the third day, Xu Fengnian, who was meditating by the lake, looked north. They had finally arrived. However, the scale of their formation was far grander than anticipated.

Qinchader, the Xiti who owned these pastures, sat high atop a tall horse. This robust, middle-aged Xiti wore wolf fur attire. The hair near his ears and on his forehead was shaven, with two braids woven and tied behind his ears. A large gyrfalcon perched on his shoulder. Qinchader waved his hand, and a hundred cavalrymen behind him charged out with strange cries and shouts, galloping wildly around the camp. This was not the most intimidating sight; what truly struck fear was the two cages beside Qinchader, each holding a leopard and a fierce tiger captured from the Liaoyang region. The two beasts, previously curled up and dozing, seemed to catch a scent of blood. They suddenly stood up in their cages, roaring deeply, their claws clattering against the iron bars, eager to devour someone.

Tribal Chief Huyan Anbao, who had led his tribe through a thousand li of migration and was already on edge, gathered his trembling tribal members. They carried no weapons and dared not show any resistance. Migrating across borders already put them in the wrong. If the tribe truly had no valuable treasures to offer, Huyan Anbao would have personally gone to "offer incense" to this new Xiti, who would hold the power of life and death over their entire tribe. Xu Fengnian and Huyan Guanyin did not step out of the tent. Beside them, a disgruntled Abaoji was hiding, peeking through a gap at the arrogant Xiti guards. However, their gaze ultimately settled on a pair of figures beside the Xiti, who appeared to be master and servant. The young man wore a fox fur coat and a wolf fur hat, with a saber and sword at his waist. Unlike the other riders, he sat cross-legged on his horse, propping his chin with his hand, his expression indifferent. The old man in the brocade robe had a restrained aura. Although Xu Fengnian immediately withdrew his probing gaze, perhaps Huyan Guanyin had given something away, as the old man sensed something amiss and looked directly at them with sharp, cold eyes.

The cavalry tightened their encirclement, completely preventing Huyan Anbao from approaching the Xiti to ingratiate himself.

The annual grand hunt of the Beiliang Royal Court, personally attended by the Empress in autumn, was conducted similarly, though on a much more magnificent scale. Merely driving the prey inward from the periphery required tens of thousands of armored soldiers and took two months. Their ranks were orderly, advancing slowly, with the Imperial Kheshig Guard overseeing them. Formations had to follow predetermined routes strictly; even a slight deviation would result in a beating with a rod. If any prey escaped the encirclement during this time, a decurion would be beheaded on the spot, a centurion dismissed from office, and a chiliarch demoted by one rank. When the hunting circle finally narrowed to the point where soldiers were only two or three paces apart, ropes were connected and covered with felt. At this point, countless wild animals were amassed within the circle – lions and donkeys together, cattle and horses colliding, jackals, wolves, foxes, and rabbits crowded together. What followed was a feast of slaughter, with nobles and aristocrats entering in descending order of their rank.

Qinchader subtly twitched his shoulder, and the large gyrfalcon flapped its wings, soaring into the sky. Then, with a cruel smile, the Xiti clapped his hands. Once the cavalry's hunting circle opened a gap, several scantily clad, tattooed animal handlers immediately opened the cages, leading out the agitated, roaring tiger and leopard. Releasing their leashes, the untamed leopard and tiger charged out side-by-side, skillfully pouncing on the herdsmen within the circle. As the tiger and leopard ran, their long, agile, powerful bodies were particularly prominent, signifying that upon contact, there would be incredibly bloody tearing. A hundred paces disappeared in an instant.

Two robust herdsmen, guarding the chief's left and right, who had participated in numerous animal hunts, stepped out of the ranks without hesitation, despite having no spears or arrows. They first strode purposefully, then broke into a sprint, charging directly towards the uncaged tiger and leopard. A sneer played on Qinchader's lips. "Ignorant commoners," he thought. His carefully bred tigers and leopards were no ordinary prey; their wildness was several times more intense than when they were first captured. They were only caged during hunting expeditions; at other times, they roamed freely among the cattle and sheep in the pens. When they had killed all the livestock, they would be moved to another pen. To punish herdsmen who broke tribal laws, they were thrown into the pens; even those with astonishing strength in wrestling could not withstand a few rounds of the tigers' and leopards' pounces and bites. Over the years, only one person had survived, and even he had lost an arm.

Almost simultaneously, the two herdsmen were pounced on by the agile and swift tiger and leopard. Their necks were bitten through, and with a gentle swipe of their claws, their intestines were ripped out. The two beasts lowered their heads and gnawed, their prey a bloody mess. When the herdsmen's limbs finally ceased twitching, the tiger and leopard simultaneously raised their heads, looking towards the trembling herdsmen within the circle.

Inside the tent, Abaoji, seeing the horrific scene, his face streaked with tears, was about to rush out and fight to the death. Xu Fengnian pressed down on his head, threw him back into the tent, and then lifted the cotton hanging blanket serving as a door curtain, darting out. Xu Fengnian had not expected this Xiti to be so ruthless. Generally, while cross-border herdsmen could be punished with death, it was true that lives were cheap in the vast plains and deserts. However, this was different from the Beiliang Xiti's emphasis on the number of young, strong men in their tribe who could wield bows and fight on horseback. On the plains, women were allowed to remarry freely, often exceeding the standards of propriety and shame among Central Plains people. Additionally, in every war, Beiliang went to great lengths to abduct people from the border regions of the Liyang Dynasty and resettle them in the north. All of this was ultimately because the various Xitis, big and small, measured their strength by the most direct metrics: the number of horses and human heads. Generally, when a tribe rebelled against its original Xiti and chose a desperate migration, the Xiti of the new territory, if strong enough and not afraid to oppose the previous Xiti, would mostly be willing to recruit and accept them. Huyan Guanyin's tribe had wandered for a thousand li, and their original Xiti was certainly beyond reach. For any Xiti with ample water and pasture, they represented a valuable asset. It would simply involve spending some silver to bribe the superior officials in charge of nomadic households, effectively gaining a tax source from over thirty additional tents. Xu Fengnian truly hadn't anticipated that the Xiti, upon hearing the news and meeting the herdsmen, would immediately assert authority with such bloodshed. From the looks of it, they intended to massacre the entire tribe.

The handsome young man with a saber and sword at his waist raised an eyebrow.

The old man in the brocade robe was about to speak, but the young man shook his chin, signaling him to ignore it.

Xu Fengnian tapped his toes, leaped over the heads of the cavalry, and landed, blocking the old tribal chief. The fierce tiger opened its blood-red mouth. Xu Fengnian paid no mind to its claws, which were blocked by the mirage-like 'Great Yellow Court' energy outside his clothes. He grabbed the tiger's upper and lower jaws with both hands, and with a gentle tear, ripped this striped king of the forest in half, tossing the pieces in front of him.

Tearing a tiger and leopard apart with bare hands was nothing more than this.

The lone leopard suddenly stopped, clearly sensing an immense threat, and dared not pounce easily. Qinchader was enraged. He snorted coldly, and the animal handlers began shouting, directing the leopard to kill. The sleek, well-groomed leopard finally succumbed to its agitation, charging in a straight line. At a distance of ten paces, it suddenly veered, leaping five paces to one side, then swiftly pouncing towards the prey's right. With the 'River Severance' technique he had comprehended in the gorge, Xu Fengnian neither moved his hands nor drew his saber, yet the prey's body was cut in half in mid-air. This time, it was Qinchader and the hundred-plus cavalrymen who were left dumbfounded. The fox-furred youth's eyes lit up, and his lips twitched. This was indeed a pleasant surprise. The Xiti leading his troops to annihilate this hundred-man tribe had done so at the behest of him, the powerful Young Master Tuoba. On the grasslands, powerful Xitis might not show deference to the scions of the Yelü and Murong clans, but absolutely no one would dare defy his orders. In the desert, his father's words were almost equivalent to the Empress's imperial decree. In the Beiliang military, his father's authority was even greater. The key was that the Empress had never felt threatened by his father's immense achievements; she held not the slightest suspicion towards this 'God of War' from the Tangut tribe, trusting him implicitly. Therefore, in the Northern Royal Court, no matter if you were a royal relative, a prince, or a grandson, if you encountered the two sons of the God of War, you would automatically lower your head.

This young man, known as Little Tuoba, had personally slaughtered six hundred people along his journey. Not a single Xiti had dared to report it to the Empress. Instead, many Xitis personally led his horse, respectfully seeing him off across the border.

Little Tuoba still rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head with a smirk, saying, "Which southern state are you from, a relic of the Spring and Autumn period? Why not become my adopted son? You'd enjoy more wealth and glory than you could ever spend in this lifetime."

Among the nobility of Beiliang, there was a custom of taking 'adopted sons,' similar to adopted sons in the Liyang Dynasty. However, their status was often only slightly higher than that of servants. Of course, the adopted sons of powerful clans could still wield their master's influence to bully others, especially those from the 'A-grade' great families of the Beiliang Royal Court, whose members were entitled to wear Xianbei headwear and jade belts, and held significant power and countless privileges.

The young man, using both carrot and stick, smiled and said nonchalantly, "I know you commoners from the Spring and Autumn period have some pointless backbone. If you don't agree, after I've killed all these herdsmen, I'll deal with you: bury you in the yellow sand, scalp you, and pour mercury into your skull."

Xu Fengnian didn't waste polite words with this villain. He simply said calmly, "Speak properly."

The fox-furred, wolf-hatted youth, sitting cross-legged on his horse, froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. He raised a hand as if to wipe away tears of mirth, staring at the man with the saber in the hunting circle, but then asked the demon-like old man in brocade robe beside him, "When will Huihui arrive?"

The old man's eyes glinted, and he chuckled. "In a quarter of an hour. A rare treat delivered right to our doorstep. Young master, won't you personally take action this time?"

The young man pursed his lips. "I'm in a good mood today. I'm still deciding whether to take him as an adopted son or skin him and leave him to rot in the sun."

The old man spurred his horse forward and stepped out of the ranks, asking, "Shall this old servant amuse him for a while first?"

Little Tuoba, who believed few in Beiliang were worth his apprehension, nodded slightly.

Xu Fengnian's 'Yellow Court' energy instantly surged like a flood. His figure swept past like a rainbow, and with one hand, he pressed down on the wolf-hatted youth's forehead, pushing him off his horse, sending him sliding five or six zhang across the ground.