Early spring departure

After Yan returned from the Clothing Tribe tribe with his fleet, he rested for a few days at the Fire Tribe's management center. He had hardly stopped all year, transporting grain, receiving people, and making another Clothing Tribe in the autumn and before winter. The wind on the Fish River changed from warm to cool, and then from cool to cold. He spent almost as much time standing at the bow of the Chuantou as he did on land. Now that the major events in the tribe had come to an end, he had a few rare days off from traveling. He slept later than usual, and after waking up, he didn't rush to get dressed or wash. Sometimes he would lie on his bunk, looking at the sky through the gaps in the thatched roof, listening to the occasional shouts and banging sounds from the distant dock. He ate his mother Qingye's cooking with peace of mind, without the urgency of traveling. He chewed slowly, sometimes taking half an hour to finish a meal, listening to the sounds from the houses outside.

But Yan didn't have much free time. Five days later, he got busy again. That morning, after finishing his breakfast, he put his bowl on the table, stood up, and went out. The early winter morning was noticeably chilly, and his breath condensed into a small cloud of white mist in front of his eyes before quickly dissipating.

He first went to the training ground, which was a compacted open area south of the camp. The ground was very flat and had been compacted repeatedly before last autumn. Now, it had a firm, springy feel when you stepped on it. After winter, the area was expanded outwards, and the surrounding shrubs and grass roots were cleared away and a new layer of sand was added. It was dry and dust-free when you walked on it. Several flagpoles were planted around the training ground, with markers made of old burlap tied to them. They swayed slightly in the cold morning wind. Although the colors were not bright, you could tell from a distance that they were markings used to demarcate the training areas.

Yingmu and Shibang were used to train men on the training ground. The troops were divided into three square formations. Near the riverbank were a thousand naval soldiers, squatting beside rows of wooden stakes on the shore, practicing the coordination of boarding and rowing. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, their arms rising and falling in unison, the rhythm of their oars almost identical, creating a continuous white Langhua that could be heard from afar. In the middle were a thousand cavalrymen, their horses lined up in several rows at the edge of the field. The riders were practicing troop charges and maneuvering, the sound of hooves hitting the ground dense and powerful, like an approaching drumbeat, making the ground tremble slightly. Near the camp, three thousand infantrymen were in square formations, practicing shield wall advances and spear thrusts. Their footsteps, combined with shouts of battle, came in waves, like rows of waves rushing towards the shore, repeatedly crashing against an imagined enemy.

Yingmu stood on a high platform between the naval and cavalry formations. The platform, built of thick wooden stakes, was about a person's height above the ground, with several thick planks on its surface, so it wouldn't wobble when stepped on. He stood with his hands on his hips, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the two formations, occasionally squinting as if taking in every detail. He didn't shout, but occasionally pointed in a direction and said, "The third row of oars is half a beat too slow" or "Closer the turning distance a bit more." His voice wasn't loud, but it could be heard clearly across half the training field, each word pronounced firmly. The formations under his command moved in perfect unison, the Shuihua trails they created were almost parallel, the tilt of the boats during turns was uniform, and even the height of the oars above the water was roughly the same.

Standing at the front of the infantry formation, Shibang's voice, much louder than Yingmu's, echoed across the training ground, "Front row, lower your shields! Don't raise them so high! Leave a gap above your head! The spears will thrust out through the gaps in the shields, not that you're raising them to pierce the sky!"

He walked at the front of the formation, shouting as he went. Every now and then he would bend down to adjust the angle of a soldier's shield, or gently tap a soldier's heel with the tip of his boot to signal him to stand a little further forward. He was even more muscular than a year ago. His shoulders were so broad that they stretched his gray-white linen robe taut, and the muscles in his back were visible beneath the fabric. His steps were longer and more steady, and his feet landed with a solid, powerful force.

Yan stood at the edge of the training ground for a while, his hands tucked into his sleeves, watching quietly without saying a word. Someone from the navy recognized him, glanced at him, and quickly turned back to continue paddling. Yan watched for a while but didn't go over to interrupt. He stood there quietly, his gaze shifting from the navy to the cavalry, then from the cavalry to the infantry, lingering briefly on each formation, as if his eyes were walking through their training rhythm. Then he turned and walked towards the workshop.

The workshop area is located on the west side of the camp. Before last autumn, the sheds here weren't so densely packed; there were only a few main workshops and a shed for storing timber. After winter set in, Dabang and his men built three new workshops: one for storing timber, one for processing bronze fittings, and one specifically for making ropes and canvas for ships. Now, these workshops are connected, stretching from the dock to near the camp's perimeter wall. The thatched roofs vary in age—some were laid last autumn and have darkened in color; others were hastily built before winter and are still lighter in color, gleaming with the characteristic yellow of hay in the sunlight. The pillars also differ in thickness; the pillars of the old sheds have darkened, while the pillars of the new sheds still retain fresh wood grain. Several passageways have been left in the middle for people to move materials. Bundles of timber, newly braided ropes, and neatly stacked pottery jars are piled on both sides of the passageways. At every step, one can smell the unique odor of different workshops.

When Yan walked in, Dabang was squatting beside a half-finished 50,000-jin (25,000 kg) heavy ship, holding a short chisel and repairing the planks. Today he was wearing a gray-brown linen robe, the front of which was covered with wood shavings and small pieces of sawdust. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms, the muscles of which bulged slightly from the effort. He held the chisel with unhurried and steady movements, each stroke landing firmly. The chisel made a crisp sound as it cut through the splinters, scraping the sawdust off and accumulating thinly at his feet. Hearing footsteps, he turned around and saw it was Yan. Without stopping his work, he simply turned his head slightly and said, "You've come. Perfect timing. Come and look this way."

He put down the chisel, patted a spot on the plank with his palm, the lines of his hand pressing against the wood, the rough skin meeting the smooth, newly shaved surface. "This batch of timber is better than the last; the grain is straight, there are fewer knots, saving a lot of effort."

Yan walked over and squatted down, reaching out to touch the surface of the ship plank. The wood grain was fine, and the texture was smooth. He traced the grain along his palm, as if following the direction of the wood's growth. He then examined the joints; the mortise and tenon joints were tightly fitted without any gaps. When he ran his fingers along the joints, he could barely feel any unevenness. He withdrew his hand and nodded. "It's definitely better than the last batch. Where did this batch of timber come from?"

Dabang stood up, dusted off the sawdust from his hands, and rubbed his palms on the hem of his clothes. "It was transported from the upper reaches of the Fish River. It's from the old forest there; the trees there have thick trunks and grow straight."

Yan stood up and walked around the workshop. After looking around, he had a general idea of what was going on. The workshop was much larger than last year. Although the shipbuilding workshop's output was only half that of Jianya's workshop, the other workshops were now almost the same size and output as the original workshop. Dabang's workshop hadn't stopped working and had enough materials, which meant that everyone in the tribe knew what they would face next year and no one was slacking off. He stood at the workshop entrance for a while longer. A young craftsman was bending down to move sawn planks onto a cart. As he passed by Yan, he looked up to greet him and then continued walking. Yan nodded and turned to leave.

Winter passed in this busy yet peaceful rhythm. The snowfall was light, neither collapsing roofs nor blocking roads. All the outposts had ample winter provisions, and there was no famine or frostbite. The Fire Tribe knew that they might face the Tiger Tribe head-on next year, so they spent the entire winter intensifying their preparations—building ships, training, and stockpiling provisions. No one felt they could relax. Sometimes the workshop lights were still on at night, looking like stars embedded in the darkness, faintly glowing in the cold air by the river.

After the start of spring, the sunlight became brighter than in winter, and it already felt warm on the skin. New grass sprouted on the ridges of the fields, and willows budded tender shoots. The breath of spring filled the entire campsite, and even the wind in the air became softer than in winter. It no longer felt like a knife scraping against your face, but more like a hand gently wiping it.

That morning, a sudden commotion arose at the dock. Several message ships approached from upstream, moving at a much faster pace than usual, their oars moving with urgent rhythm. The lead soldier jumped onto the dock and, before he could even steady himself, hurried toward the council hall, his boots making a series of rapid thuds on the wooden planks, as if he wanted to deliver some good news before it cooled down. Not long after, Jianshi led Yan, Dabang, and others toward the dock. Jianshi walked at the front, his steps faster than usual, his hands behind his back, the hem of his robe fluttering in the wind.

From afar, Yan could see a row of boats appearing on the river. The boats were slowly approaching along the waterway, their hulls brand new, their sails not yet worn by the wind, gleaming softly white in the early spring sunlight. The Chuantou were straight and clean, without any scratches, and even the folds in the canvas hadn't been worn into many lines by the wind. The oars were neatly arranged on both sides of the boats, like a convoy that had completed a long voyage and was waiting for the next leg of its journey. Fifteen boats lined up in a row, maintaining a distance between each other as they approached, their Chuantou appearing one after another at the bend in the waterway, as if drawn by the same line.

The soldier leading the ships jumped off the first ship, stood firm in front of the Jianshi, slightly out of breath, clasped his hands in salute, and said that the leader of the Jianya Fangs had ordered that these ships be sent over in the spring so that there would be enough manpower available during the busy farming season. His voice was a little hoarse, but his words were clear, as if he had rehearsed them in his mind several times beforehand.

Jianshi nodded, walked along the boardwalk to the nearest new ship, and reached out to touch the hull. His palm rested on the wooden planks for a moment, then he gently pressed them, as if checking the moisture level of the wood and the tightness of the planks. He then tapped the planks twice with his fingers, listened to the echo, and withdrew his hand. He turned to look at the row of new ships, a satisfied expression on his face. He spoke softly, but the wind on the dock carried his voice to everyone's ears. "Jianya Fang's efficiency is truly impressive. They've sent so many giant ships in early spring. Adding to the five that our management center built ourselves, our Fire Tribe now has twenty more ships with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin."

He turned around to face the crowd, his gaze falling on Yan, and said in a steady and decisive voice, "Yan'er, the ships have arrived. Prepare for a few days, then lead the fleet to the Valley Tribe to transport grain, and while you're at it, gather information on the situation to the north."

Yan stood on the dock, his gaze shifting from the new ships. He stopped in front of his father and said, "Yes, Father. I've already allocated the supplies and manpower. The ships have arrived. Give me two days to get the personnel in place, and we can depart on the third day." His tone was calm, as if he had already mentally rehearsed the steps many times.

Jianshi looked at him, then glanced at the ships, and nodded slightly, saying, "Then let's do it your way."

Two days later, Yan set off with his fleet. He stood at the Chuantou, the morning breeze blowing in his face, carrying the unique crispness and moisture of early spring on the river. The clouds on the horizon were low and thin, as if filtered by spring. Behind him, sixty giant ships, each with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin, were lined up in a row, their sails already raised, billowing in the wind and gleaming with a pale golden light in the morning. Behind them followed one hundred and eighty large ships with a carrying capacity of 50,000 jin, and then more than one hundred smaller ships with carrying capacities of 20,000 jin and 10,000 jin. The entire fleet stretched across the river like a moving white dike in spring. The shadows of the Chuantou ' bows were cast on the water, broken and then gathered again by the waves, like a puzzle piece constantly being reassembled in motion.

Jia Li and Bailin accompanied Yan to the Valley Tribe, while Yingmu and Shibang stayed at the management center to continue training the 5,000-strong army. On the evening before departure, Yingmu found Yan and, standing at the camp gate, asked only one question, "Are you sure you don't need me to come?"

Yan looked at him and replied, "You have five thousand men under your command, you can't leave." Yingmu didn't ask any more questions, remained silent for a few breaths, then nodded, turned and left. Shibang did the same. He stood on the dock watching the fleet leave the port, hands on his hips, until the last ship disappeared around the bend in the river before turning back to the training ground. He took a few steps, looked back once more, and then strode away.

The fleet sailed downstream along the Fish River. Jia Li stood beside Yan, his hair slightly disheveled by the wind, but he didn't bother to fix it, merely shielding his eyes from the wind with the back of his hand. Turning to Yan, he said, "Young Chief, we've brought quite a few large ships this time: sixty ships with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin each, one hundred and eighty ships with a carrying capacity of 50,000 jin each, plus the smaller boats. Transporting 20 million jin of grain at once shouldn't be a problem."

Yan stood at the Chuantou, his gaze fixed on the line where the water met the sky, and said, "Yes, transporting it all at once will save a lot of time and manpower. The Valley Tribe didn't agree on a specific number with us last year, but Chief Daiyue said that we can still guarantee 20 million catties of grain."

Bailin walked over from the other side and stood next to Yan, saying, "So, by the time we went there, the Clothing Tribe Valley Tribe have already discussed the matter of breaking away from the Valley Tribe and becoming independent, right?"

Yan nodded and said, "As long as the Clothing Tribe officially separates from the Valley Tribe, we'll stop at the Clothing Tribe's dock on our return trip to discuss the specific arrangements for joining the Fire Tribe. If they're ready, we'll finalize things."

Jia Li and Bailin nodded in agreement, and the fleet continued downstream along the Fish River.