Advancing on Two Fronts

At the Little Fish River Mouth Outpost the Fire Tribe Management Center, the first harvest of the year has begun. The sky is not yet fully bright; a pale golden light has just begun to appear on the eastern horizon, outlining the ears of grain in the fields from the darkness. Dew still clings to the edges of the leaves and the tips of the ears, shimmering in the morning light like countless tiny beads adorning the entire field. The ridges are already crowded with people—men and women, young and old—all bent over, holding bronze sickles, their blades reflecting the morning light. Some straighten up to wipe the sweat from their brows with their sleeves, then bend down again to continue cutting.

The millet was felled in rows, making a continuous rustling sound, like a steady melody. The harvested millet ears were neatly stacked into bundles. Some people bent over and moved forward along the ridges of the field, each step landing between the freshly harvested stubble. Their steps were even, and not far away, some people were already threshing the millet.

After the sun rises, the light becomes bright and even, making the golden ears of grain shine even brighter. The wind blows from the river, carrying the dry scent of grain and the warm aroma of the sun-baked soil. People stop to drink water on the ridges of the fields, their earthenware bowls filled with clear water drawn from the river, the rims gleaming in the sunlight. Some people sit on the edge of the fields to rest, taking off their straw sandals, emptying out the straw inside, putting them back on, and then getting up to continue working.

This year, the total area of paddy fields that can be harvested across all the Fire Tribe has exceeded 300,000 mu. Several dozen mu of vegetable gardens and dry land are scattered around the various strongholds. The year has been blessed with favorable weather; the rains came promptly without causing flooding. Every rain fell at the right time, without major insect infestations, hail, or even a late spring frost. News has been arriving from various strongholds, some delivered by small boats, others by horseback riders overland. Each message ends with the same sentence—"The harvest is better than expected." From the Stone Creek River Mouth, it's reported that the early rice ears are fuller than last year; the dry land at the mouth of the Pottery Salt River Mouth is also yielding more beans than in previous years; and at the mouth of the Red Flower River Mouth, one plot of land, thanks to ample winter fertilizer last year, has millet that is significantly taller than the surrounding fields. Jianshi sat in the council hall, carefully reading through the returned wooden slips one by one. He picked up one... He first looked at the mark in the lower right corner to confirm which outpost it had been sent from. Then he followed the engravings line by line, his finger occasionally pausing on a particular number, as if to confirm that the symbol was clearly engraved. Then he put it down and picked up the next piece. The wooden tablets on the table piled higher and higher. After he finished looking at the last one, he pressed his finger on the table, stood up, took a few steps in the council chamber, and then sat back down. He reached for a bone needle on the table and gathered the scattered wooden tablets together. Then he looked out the window. The threshing ground outside was covered with newly harvested grains. The golden grain surface shimmered in the sunlight. Children squatted at the edge of the threshing ground, picking up any fallen ears of grain. Occasionally, they would pass an ear of grain to each other and then take it back. A few slender awns reflected the light and then slowly drooped down to another spot because of their movements.

As evening fell, Jianshi sat at the table, picked up his water bowl, took a sip, and put it down, his gaze falling on the distant view outside the window. This year, the granaries would be much fuller than in previous years, and there were still several empty warehouses available. He did the math in his mind: even if there was no harvest next year, the stored grain would be enough to feed the entire Fire Tribe for a year. If he added the cellars in each stronghold and the scattered storage, it could last for a few more months. This didn't even include the portion that could be exchanged with the Valley Tribe.

On the third day, Jianshi sent someone to summon Yan. When Yan entered the council hall, there were still a few bits of grass stuck to his shoulders, one of which was stuck to the inside of his collar and went unnoticed. There were also dried mud stains on his trouser legs, and the soles of his shoes still had the dry dust from the threshing ground, as if he had just come from there and hadn't had time to change. There was a light red mark on the back of his right hand, which was from being strangled by a straw rope while carrying bundles of grain, and it hadn't faded yet.

He walked to the table but didn't sit down. He looked at Jianshi and waited for him to speak. Jianshi put the wooden tablet back on the table, looked up at Yan, and tapped his finger lightly on the table. He said, "Our Fire Tribe's first harvest this year is almost done. All the outposts outside are collecting grain without any chaos. The Valley Tribe should have started their first harvest this year as well, but I'm still a little worried about them."

He paused, then proceeded to say, "Take the fleet to the Valley Tribe in the next couple of days. One purpose is to bring back a batch of grain, another is to scout out the movements in the north, and the third is to go to the Valley Tribe to assess the situation. In case the Tiger Tribe attacks, our Fire Tribe can provide timely assistance. After all, the Valley Tribe is our ally, and if our ally suffers losses, it is also our loss, which would be very detrimental to the development of our Fire Tribe."

He extended his right hand, raised a finger as if listing a list, and said, "Right now, all the strongholds of the Fire Tribe are busy with farming. Although our entire tribe has more than 50,000 warriors, we need manpower everywhere. We need to harvest, dry, transport, and guard the fields. We can't do without people anywhere. This time, you only need to take 5,000 naval troops. You don't need to take more. Take more boats, mainly large ones, as they are convenient for loading grain and transporting people. The Valley Tribe and the Bean Tribe together have about 10,000 warriors. Our strongholds in the north also have more than 10,000 warriors. As long as the Tiger Tribe doesn't come with all its strength, we should be able to handle them."

After listening, Yan replied without hesitation, "Yes, Father. We'll prepare in the next couple of days and then set off with the fleet. I'll select experienced sailors for the five thousand, and we'll bring extra ships. Once we get there, we'll assess the situation before deciding on the next steps."

As he turned and walked out of the council hall, his steps were a little faster than usual. A small piece of grass fell from his shoulder, but he didn't notice. As he walked towards the dock, his mind was already on the number and size of the boats, the grouping of people, and the docking arrangements for the granaries.

While the Fire Tribe was transporting grain to the Valley Tribe and receiving people from the Clothing Tribe, the Tiger Tribe further north was also making moves. The faction led by the Tiger Tribe's Great Elder Tongding, had firmly established its dominance over the other two factions after absorbing the territory and population of the Great Luwei Tribe. For the past year or two, the Tiger Tribe's shipbuilding workshops had been almost constantly in operation, with workers toiling day and night in the docks. Even after winter began, they hadn't completely stopped. The number of giant ships with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin had increased to over forty, and ships with carrying capacities of 50,000 jin, 20,000 jin, and 10,000 jin had each increased to seventy or eighty. Tongding stood at the Tiger Tribe... In a small council room to the side of the Tiger Tribe council hall, a map on the wall was newly drawn last year. It depicted the new boundaries of the Great Luwei Tribe with charcoal, and the course of the river had been thickened. His finger paused for a moment at the southern end of the map before retracting it. Looking at his son, Tong Dachui, standing before him, he spoke in a low voice, but each word seemed carefully chosen before being uttered. "This southern expedition has cost us a lot, and it is extremely important to us. Ideally, we should severely damage the Fire Tribe; the next best thing is to take over the entire Valley Tribe and confront the Fire Tribe, but we cannot leave empty-handed."

As he spoke, his gaze shifted from the map to Tong Dachui's face, and he continued, "After you leave, there will be no shortage of opposition here. Hu Bashan won't let this opportunity pass. They will definitely come up with all sorts of reasons, saying that they don't have enough manpower, that they need reinforcements from the east, or that they can't take all the ships. Don't pay any attention to any of them. No matter what excuse they use or who they send, just say 'proceed according to plan.'"

Tong Dachui stood before the table, his hands at his sides, standing ramrod straight. He wore a dark gray short armor, the plates bearing the marks of wear. After listening, he nodded and said, "Father, rest assured, no matter what excuse the tribe gives, I will not mobilize any troops. Whatever Hu Bashan says, I will pretend I didn't hear it. Just wait here for our good news."

Tongding's gaze lingered on his son's face for a moment, as if to confirm that the words had settled in his heart. He reached for a wooden tablet on the table, glanced at it, and put it back. His voice returned to its usual unhurried rhythm as he said, "Good, I'm relieved to hear that. You can set off with your men."

Tong Dachui clasped his hands in a salute, turned, and walked out of the small council room. The door closed behind him with a deep thud, as if a long-planned path had finally been laid out. When he emerged from the council hall, the square outside was already packed with people. This time, the Grand Elder's faction had brought about 60% of the tribe's ships—more than twenty ships with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin were lined up at the front, their sails already half-raised, gleaming pale white in the afternoon sun. Behind them followed ships with carrying capacities of 50,000 jin and 20,000 jin, and one... Small boats with a carrying capacity of less than 10,000 jin were lined up on the river, making it seem as if the entire dock was filled with boats. Five thousand naval soldiers were boarding the boats one after another. Some carried bows, some carried spears, and some had shields hanging from their waists. They walked step by step across the gangplank and found their positions on the deck. On the shore, there were also seven thousand army soldiers forming ranks. Led by Hu Ya, they set off from the south gate of the Tiger Tribe and marched south along the dirt road on the east bank of the Fish River. Dust rose up behind the column, like a pale yellowish-brown tail trailing behind the column.

Tong Dachui walked to the dock and stood at the end of the pier. He surveyed the neatly arranged ships—the sails were all checked, the spears along the sides were securely tied, the supplies at the stern were piled up tightly, and the masts of each ship stood at the same height. Hu Wei walked over and stood beside him, his gaze also sweeping over the ships. He spoke softly, as if talking to himself. "Chief, this time our strength far surpasses last time. Including the Wolf Tribe and Bear Tribe's forces, our total strength is close to 20,000. Our Tiger Tribe alone has 5,000 naval troops. We'll advance by both water and land, suppressing both sides. This time, we must teach the Valley Tribe and the Fire Tribe a lesson."

Tong Dachui didn't reply immediately. His gaze swept from the first ship to the last, as if he were checking one last time to make sure nothing was missed. Then he spoke, his voice low but steady. "We must avenge last time. There are many more ships and many more people now. We lost last time because we didn't have enough ships. We won't make the same mistake again."

He turned to Hu Wei and said, "Have someone send a message to urge the Wolf Tribe and the Bear Tribe to each send four thousand men as the vanguard. They must capture the Valley Tribe's Little Valley Camp Outpost before our Tiger Tribe arrives. After our Tiger Tribe arrives, we can then take over the Valley Tribe's headquarters and confront the Fire Tribe."

Hu Wei nodded and said, "The message has already been sent. The Wolf Tribe replied that they would arrive as soon as possible, and the Bear Tribe did not refuse either. Both sides agreed readily. The messenger said that the Wolf Tribe people are already preparing their camp, and the Bear Tribe's ships are also preparing to move south. They will arrive before we do."

Tong Dachui stood for a while, glanced at the boats again, then turned and walked towards his own. He walked slowly onto the gangplank, but each step was steady, as if the plank beneath his feet was a familiar place. He stood at the Chuantou and looked towards the shore. The soldiers boarding the boat were still queuing up, and the last few bundles of arrows were being carried onto the cargo hold at the stern. Hu Ya on the shore had already led the army far away, and the line had become a thin, dark line stretching along the dirt road on the riverbank.

Hu Wei stopped beside the Tong Dachui, leaned on the gunwale, and glanced at the river to the south. He turned his head and said in a deep voice, "Chief, this time our preparations are much better than last time. The ships are bigger, the men are veterans, and the Wolf Tribe and Bear Tribe have both agreed to send men. As long as the Valley Tribe hasn't received any news yet, we've already won half the battle."

Tong Dachui didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the wide river ahead. The Tiger Tribe's dock was getting farther and farther away behind him. The outlines of the houses and storage yards on the bank were gradually being drawn in by the river and the distance. The fleet was going upstream along the Fish River. The wind was blowing from the north, filling the sails. The Chuantou made a continuous and deep sound as they broke the surface of the water, as if an invisible hand was pushing the fleet forward steadily.

Several days after the Tiger Tribe set off, further south, in the fields of the Valley Tribe, the first batch of millet had already been harvested. The newly spread grains on the threshing floor gleamed softly in the afternoon sun. Someone was bending over, using a wooden rake to turn the grains over so that the ones underneath could also be sun-dried. Daiyue walked along the ridge, followed by two people. He squatted down, picked up an ear of millet that hadn't been completely threshed, examined it in his palm, and then put it back on the ridge without saying much. The clouds on the horizon were moving slowly, with the clouds coming from the north moving faster than the others, as if the wind behind them was driving them south. Daiyue looked up at the clouds for a while, then looked down and continued walking.