Hua Qiang Became Chieftain

The mountain wind blew, carrying the fresh fragrance of grass and trees, leaving one refreshed in body and spirit.

A graceful middle-aged woman was the first to step out of the tribal council hall.

The years had carved fine lines at the corners of her eyes, yet they had done nothing to diminish the breathtaking beauty between her brows and eyes.

She wore a faded coarse linen shawl, her slender frame like sturdy bamboo in the wind. Her knuckles had become slightly misshapen from years of labor, but her amber eyes shone with startling brilliance, like fire-tempered blades capable of cleaving through all falsehood.

The elderly women following behind her stooped at the back, their gray-white hair scattered in the wind like withered grass.

Their rough clothes were patched layer upon layer, their hollow cheeks a sickly waxen yellow, and unwashed mud still clung within the wrinkles of their necks.

Yet when they stood shoulder to shoulder, a heart-quailing pressure rushed straight at them.

An undying flame burned in their clouded old eyes, and the authority accumulated over countless years lingered in every gesture. They were like ancient totems buried beneath windblown sand suddenly awakening, silently recounting past glory and souls that would never yield.

The slightly cool mountain wind, wrapped in the fragrance of grass and trees, howled past, making the straw curtains outside the council hall flap loudly.

"Mother! Chieftain!"

"Great Elder, Second Elder... Fifth Elder!"

A clear cry pierced through the wind. Zi Furong hurried over to the crowd, several yellowed blades of grass still caught in her hair.

Behind her, the other hunters also bent to salute. The fronts of their coarse short garments were soaked through with sweat, which had crystallized into patches of white salt in the cold wind.

Purple Rose looked at her