It was pitch-black at night, and they were planning to seize people while they were alone and getting up to relieve themselves. Several men would take one target together, so no matter how you looked at it, it would not be too difficult. With someone deliberately stirring them up, the militia in the tent soon grew furious, rising one after another to answer the call.
"Either way, crossing the Han Tribe means death. We might as well make everything clear today. Even if we die, we should die knowing the truth. Count me in."
"Me too. My father traded on the grasslands when he was young and taught me some of the grassland language. I can ask them what this is really about."
"Then let's go. We may not be capable of much, but this woodcutter's knife in my hand isn't just for show."
After a round of incitement, more than a dozen hot-blooded young fools rose and were about to leave. But just as everyone stood up, the old man who had first given them the beans suddenly called out to stop them.
"Wait. You young people are still being too reckless."
Hearing the old man, the group stopped one after another and turned to stare at him, ready to hear what brilliant idea he had.
"What other concerns do you have, Old Man? This is a chance that won't come again if we miss it. Who knows when the Han Tribe will attack? Are we really supposed to let our brothers fight the Han Army, iron from head to toe, to the death? Besides, it wasn't us who offended the Han Tribe in the first place. Why should we be the ones to throw our lives away?"
When Brother Xun heard the old man trying to stop them,