The rivers in the mountain valleys flowed out from the unbroken Changbai Mountain range to the south and poured into Jingpo Lake, the second-largest alpine barrier lake in the world. In the distance, the white mountain peaks shimmered with the light of the sun, like brocade ribbons lowered by gods from the clouds. The encircling Changbai Mountain range blocked the cold of the Sea of Japan, and also sent down rivers that nurtured life, like a mother's mountains. Jurchen-style villages had been built in the mountain valleys, and broad stretches of farmland had been opened up around them, bringing hope that the tribes would multiply and grow strong. And at this moment, a tribute horse caravan of more than two hundred men and horses was emerging one after another from the end of the valley to the northeast, whistling and neighing as it arrived outside a Tame Jurchen village that had made no preparations.
"Lü! Lü! What a large tribe in this river valley! They actually have such vast fields! What was planted here before? It doesn't look like Barnyard Millet?"
Dressed as a Priest, Zuwaro let his gaze linger on the broad traces of farmland outside the village, surprise and admiration showing on his face. The tribute horse caravan had traveled four thousand li south, and this was the first time they had seen such extensive fields. Clearly, by the time the Jurchen Tribes of the northern Forest Sea, who fished, hunted, and roamed, reached this place, they had already transformed into tribal villages that were half fishing-and-hunting and half farming, even shifting toward fully agricultural, settled tribes. And on closer inspection, this Tame Jurchen village contained more than a hundred thatched huts and earthen houses of all sizes—it likely held several hundred, even a thousand people!
If such