The broad, long Tin River was like a jade belt, reflecting the magnificent red clouds of the slanting sun. Verdant green forests stretched away along the river, spreading to the gray-yellow of the distant mountains and the horizon. The northern lands were so vast and wild; the six-thousand-li Zacatecas Wasteland crouched behind the mountains like a huge wild ox bound by that jade belt. And Tin River Village Stockade at the mouth where the Long River entered the sea was like the little clasp on the six-hundred-li ox-leading "jade belt," gently held in the great hand of the kingdom from the ocean, plotting for a broad and lasting future.
At this moment, the setting sun gradually sank, and great masses of the Feather Clan surged into the stockade, ransacking every bit of edible food. The corpses and bloodstains on the stockade walls quietly gazed at the sky, dyed red together with the evening glow. And Hummingbird's Main God Banner still fluttered at the highest point, with no Feather Warriors paying it any heed. Just like the dozens of small warrior boats cruising and watching from afar outside Tin River Stockade, and like Little Crow Xiteweiwei, who was unwilling to leave just like that.
To the Feather Clan, they were migrating, wandering passersby to begin with. They had neither the intent nor the courage to occupy the river mouth for long, and naturally did not care who this land and village stockade belonged to. What they truly cared about was...
"Ancestors! Chieftain, there's another granary here, such a huge storehouse!... Huh? Damn it! This isn't a granary! There isn't a bite to eat inside. What are all these multicolored, messy stones?..."
"Three Gods! This is the most central and biggest warehouse in the stockade. It's definitely full of good stuff! Let