Night Raid
Night crept in from behind the treetops in the east, gradually blurring the outlines of the world. The stubble left by the harvest in the fields turned into patches of varying shades in the twilight. The silhouettes of the distant mountains were being faded layer by layer by the night, first the mountainsides became blurred, then the foothills, and finally only a thin line slightly darker than the sky remained. The allied forces stopped about two days' journey from the small Valley Tribe Little Valley Camp Outpost. The cavalrymen did not set up camp or light a fire, but simply sat on their horses or leaned against Shugen. Some took out dry rations from their cloth bags, broke them into small pieces, and put them in their mouths, chewing slowly and quietly, as if afraid that the sound would carry too far. Some turned their heads, put their fingers behind their ears, and listened for any unusual movements in the distance. Occasionally, a few scattered bird calls could be heard, short and sparse, and quickly swallowed by the night wind.
The horses were quiet, except for the occasional snort from one that was particularly clear in the silence. The rider would then gently pat its neck and whisper something to soothe it, after which the horse would lower its head and fall silent. The group formed an irregular dark patch in the shadows of the trees and the twilight, making it difficult from a distance to distinguish whether it was a group of people or shadows on the hillside.
Xueya stood beside a large, old elm tree, its trunk thick and its bark rough against his shoulder blade through his hemp clothing. He had broken off half of his rations but hadn't eaten it yet; his left hand held the small piece, while his right thumb unconsciously rubbed back and forth on the hilt of his knife. His gaze passed over the low hills ahead and landed in the direction of the Valley Tribe's Little Valley Camp Outpost in the distance. The sky there was already mostly dark, with only a small patch of grayish-white in the far distance.
He stuffed the dry rations in his hand into his mouth, chewed them a couple of times, swallowed, then patted the crumbs off his hands and turned to walk towards Xiong Lie. His steps were neither fast nor slow, but each step landed almost silently in the gaps between the grass roots and the soil. Xiong Lie was squatting next to a Shitou, holding a wooden tablet in his hand, looking down at the engravings on it in the last bit of daylight. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw it was Xueya. He put the tablet away, stood up, and patted the dirt off his knees. His knees made a slight click as he stood up, as if they had been squatting for a long time and were a little stiff.
The two walked to the edge of a slightly open flat area and stopped a few steps apart. Xueya spoke first, "Chief Xiong Lie, this time our two tribes together have about eight thousand troops, which is quite a commotion. If we just rush in during the day, although we can still take it, the losses will definitely be significant. I think we should make some preparations. The Valley Tribe's camp walls aren't very high, but their watchtowers can see very far. If we get close during the day, we will definitely be discovered. We can only get close at night."
After listening, Xiong Lie's gaze lingered on Xueya's face for a moment, then shifted to the outline of the stronghold, now indistinct in the twilight, before returning to his original position. He put down the wooden tablet, raised his right hand, and stroked his chin, his fingertips slowly gliding across the rough skin. His voice was low, but carried a serious consideration of tactical details. "Chief Xueya Fang is right. Although our Bear Tribe Dali to control the Valley Tribe's spies, they will definitely become suspicious if this drags on. Even if we make some preparations, we need to act quickly. The longer we delay, the greater the chance of being discovered."
He paused, his gaze falling on Xueya's face. "What are your specific plans?"
Xueya lowered his hand from mid-air, letting it hang at his side. He took another half step towards Xiong Lie, lowering his voice even further, as if what he was about to say was only meant for the two of them to hear, "This time, we've brought mostly cavalry, with the rest being naval forces and a small number of infantry. The Valley Tribe recovered some of its naval strength with the help of the Fire Tribe last time, but it's only about 80% of what it used to be. Last time, I got several large ships with a carrying capacity of 50,000 jin from the Tiger Tribe. Adding your Bear Tribe's ships, our naval strength has already surpassed that of the Valley Tribe. Tonight, have the cavalry quietly circle around to the north and south of the camp, blocking their two exit routes. The navy will approach from the river and seal off the docks. We'll attack from three sides simultaneously. Their men have worked all day and are sound asleep at night, so they won't have time to react. As long as we take the Little Valley Camp Outpost, their headquarters will lose a crucial barrier."
He clenched his fist, his voice becoming more calculated. "When our follow-up fleet arrives, even if the Valley Tribe wants to come to their aid, they'll be blocked on the river. Once the Tiger Tribe's main force arrives, we can launch a full-scale attack on the Valley Tribe's main camp, take down the Valley Tribe first, and then concentrate our forces on the Fire Tribe."
After listening, Xiong Lie remained silent for a moment. Standing in the twilight, his right thumb gently rubbed the hilt of his sword, his gaze fixed on the ground ahead, as if mentally replaying Xueya's words. After a while, he raised his head, his voice carrying the certainty that only comes after a decision. "Do as you say. The cavalry will move first, taking the forest path ahead, bypassing the main road. The fleet will follow behind, staying close to the shadows of the riverbank. Advance as far as possible before it gets completely dark."
He glanced at the sky and added, "Then let's set off."
Neither spoke again, and they each turned and returned to their respective ranks. Xueya walked back to the old elm tree, stuffed the remaining half of his ration into his mouth, chewed a few times, swallowed, then bent down to tighten the laces of his boots. He straightened up and gestured towards Yexiao, and the column began to move slowly forward. The cavalrymen tightened their reins, guiding their horses onto the grass instead of the dirt road. The sound of their hooves hitting the soft turf was mostly absorbed by the earth. Further behind them, a dozen or so ships moved in a line, close to the shadows of the eastern bank, like a string of black leaves slowly drifting across the water.
Meanwhile, at the Little Valley Camp Outpost of the Valley Tribe, a different scene unfolded. Newly harvested grains piled up in the drying yard, forming small, pale golden mounds that gleamed warmly in the evening light. Several teenagers squatted beside the piles, spreading the grains thin with their hands so the evening breeze could carry away any remaining moisture. Someone scooped up a handful of grains and let them slip through their fingers, watching the plump grains fall one by one onto the pile in the setting sun. A queue formed at the warehouse entrance, where an oxcart was parked. Bundles of grain were unloaded and handed to those at the entrance. Daiyan stood at the entrance, holding a wooden tablet for recording, watching the oxcart being unloaded. Today he wore a dark gray linen robe, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing... His strong forearms were stained with several dried mud marks. A hemp rope was tied around his waist, and he wore straw sandals with bits of rice husks still clinging to the edges. He looked around for a while, then added a few marks to a wooden tablet. He tucked the tablet under his arm and spoke to his trusted aide beside him, his voice carrying the lightness of a bountiful harvest. "This is the first harvest of the year, and our Little Valley Camp Outpost has a good one. I see that the ears of rice in those newly cultivated paddy fields are heavier than those in the old fields. If this continues, in two years, our Valley Tribe will be able to exchange surplus grain for even more good things from the Fire Tribe, and our strength will increase considerably. However, we still need to get everyone moving quickly these days, turning over the fields while the weather is good, and planting the next crop as soon as possible, before we have to wait until the rainy season."
His trusted aide stood beside him, wearing a greyish-white linen robe with a thick hemp rope tied around his waist. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tanned forearms. He also held a wooden tablet in his hand, on which several lines of numbers were engraved, as if he had just finished recording the quantity of a batch of grain sheaves. After listening to Daiyan's words, he nodded, but the nod was slight, and his expression did not relax. He raised his gaze from the wooden tablet, which fell in the north direction, and then looked back. He spoke in a low voice, as if afraid of interrupting Daiyan's good mood. "This harvest is indeed quite good. Don't worry, Chief, I will make sure everyone does a good job in the busy farming season and that the plowing and planting are not delayed."
He paused, his fingers tightening slightly as he held the wooden tablet, his fingertips gently rubbing the edge. Then he continued, his voice even lower than before. "It's just that our scouts in the north haven't sent back any news for several days, and I'm a little worried. Usually, someone from them would return every three to five days, taking the shortcut along the riverbank. This time, there's been no movement for days, and no one has come from that direction to report anything."
Daiyan switched the wooden tablet in his other hand with a casual gesture, as if unwilling to be interrupted, as if gently brushing aside his doubts. "They must have found out some important news and are keeping watch, afraid to leave. Someone should be back in a few days. We don't need to worry about that for now; let's focus on the busy farming season. As long as it's not the Tiger Tribe coming with all their might, I don't even consider the Wolf Tribe and Bear Tribe a threat."
His confidant glanced at him, his gaze lingering for a moment on Daiyan's profile. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but seeing that Daiyan had already turned to speak to another leader, gesturing towards the distant threshing ground, he swallowed his words, bowed his head, and replied with a "Okay," before turning and walking towards the threshing ground. His pace was slower than when he came, and he stopped at the edge of the threshing ground, glancing north. Dusk had mostly fallen, leaving only a thin, dark line on the horizon, obscuring everything. He stood there for about two breaths before stepping back into the shadows of the people on the threshing ground.
As night fell completely, the moon was mostly obscured by clouds, with only scattered rays of light filtering through the gaps and casting blurry, grayish-white patches on the ground. These rays faded quickly, like lamps being extinguished one after another by the wind, illuminating areas that were instantly plunged back into darkness. The once clear paths and tree shadows became indistinguishable, and even the sound of footsteps on the withered grass was largely absorbed by the night, carried away by the wind before it could travel far.
On the watchtower north of the Valley Tribe's Little Valley Camp Outpost, the sentries had already changed shifts. The new young man draped a thick linen coat over his shoulders, sat down against the wooden railing, and stretched his legs out over another crossbeam. He held a bowl of still slightly steaming water, took a sip, the rim of the bowl making a soft sound as it touched his lips, then put the bowl down and rubbed his eyes. He had been watching for several hours straight, seeing only the pitch-black night, nothing at all. His gaze slowly shifted from north to west, then from west to east, checking each direction for a few moments. After confirming there was nothing amiss, he yawned, rested his elbows on his knees, and chin in his hands. His eyelids drooped slowly, then he forced them open again, only to have them droop again, then open again.
He didn't see that in the shadows to the north of the camp, several rows of cavalry had stopped about two hundred paces from the camp wall. The silhouettes of the cavalry blended into the night, and if one looked closely from within a few dozen paces, it would be difficult to tell that there were people there; one would only think of a few irregularly shaped bushes.
To the south of the camp, cavalry were also moving. They didn't approach directly, but circled around and stopped behind a slope on the south side of the camp. A dense thicket of bushes at the top of the slope blocked the view from the camp walls. After stopping behind the slope, one of the riders dismounted, crouched low, climbed to the top, parted the bushes, glanced towards the south gate of the camp, then retreated, making a short gesture to the others behind him. Several ranks of cavalry began to adjust their positions, spreading out along the slope, blocking the passage between the camp gate and the dock. If the gate were breached, they could rush in from another direction and block those retreating towards the dock.
On the river, more than a dozen large boats with a carrying capacity of 50,000 jin each had already approached from the shadows of the east bank. Archers stood on the gunwales, arrows nocked, bows held in their hands, fingertips following the curve of the bow arm, ready to be drawn at any moment. The boats were spaced a short distance apart, with no lights on and no sound made except for the occasional soft rustling sound of the hulls brushing against the Water Grass.
Daiyan was woken up in bed. He was fast asleep when he suddenly heard a series of urgent knocks on the door. At first, the knocking was muffled by the door, but it quickly became continuous, accompanied by his confidant's low but urgent shouts, "Leader! Leader! Get up! There's something going on outside! The men on the watchtower to the north say they've heard the sound of horses' hooves!"
Daiyan suddenly opened his eyes. Instead of sitting up, he held his breath and listened to the sounds outside. The knocking was still going on, but further away, he could vaguely hear a low, continuous sound, like the vibrations in the air caused by many people moving at the same time. His expression changed, and he sat up abruptly. Before he could even put on his boots, he reached for the short knife on the bedside table. His fingers paused when they touched the hilt, then he gripped it tightly. He jumped off the bed, shoving his feet into his boots as he ran, loosely tying his belt. Before he could even tighten it, he opened the door.
When he ran out of the house, the camp was in complete chaos. Soldiers were running out from all directions, some shirtless, some carrying only a wooden stick. Some were tightening their belts as they ran, and some were shouting, "North Gate! There's movement at the North Gate!" The sound was carried away in the darkness by the night wind, and then another shout came from somewhere else, echoing each other. Torches had been lit on the camp walls, their light flickering in the night wind, casting long and short shadows of the running men and the leaning wooden fence on the ground, making it seem as if everything was swaying.
Daiyan ran and shouted, his voice almost drowned out by the noise and footsteps in the chaos. "Hold the line! Don't panic! Archers, get on the wall! Everyone else, block the door! Don't crowd at the doorway!"
When he arrived near the north gate, he saw that the gate had been smashed open a crack, and the soldiers behind it were bracing the door with their bodies. Some were using a thick wooden bar to hold up the bolt, but the bar was already bending slightly under the pressure, making a series of soft creaking sounds. He drew his sword and rushed forward, bracing the door with his shoulder and planting his feet firmly on the muddy ground, trying to push it back with the men. But at that moment, an even louder battle cry came from the other side of the camp—the south gate had also been smashed open at the same time.
The torchlight flickered across the camp, illuminating the faces of the charging cavalry. Their faces were briefly lit before fading into darkness, only to reappear in the next flash of light—some with tightly pressed lips, some shouting, some ducking for the incoming arrows. Hooves trampled the grains spread out on the threshing floor, kicking up a cloud of broken grains and dust. The golden grains gleamed briefly in the firelight before being crushed into the mud and blood. Arrows rained down from the camp walls, some striking riders in the shoulder, others embedding themselves in stakes, their fletching still trembling slightly.
Daiyan could no longer distinguish which was the south gate and which was the north gate. He only knew that the camp was filled with the sounds of voices and clashing weapons, as if the entire camp was being tightened and squeezed by a force surging from all directions. He led the last dozen or so soldiers around him to the vicinity of the warehouse, closed the wooden door, and tried to use the sheaves of grain piled up beside the door to prop it up. As he bent down to push the sheaves, his fingers got stuck in the gaps between the sheaves, and the rough stalks pricked his knuckles, but he did not stop.
When the warehouse door was forced open from the outside, the door panel swung open violently, slamming into the stacks of grain sheaves before bouncing back down. Daiyan, gripping his short knife, saw Xueya standing in the doorway. Xueya held a knife in his hand, the bloodstains on the blade still fresh, gleaming a dark red in the torchlight. The blood slowly slid down the ridge of the blade, gathering into a drop at the tip before falling to the ground and being stepped on by his boot. He looked at Daiyan, not immediately moving forward, but simply standing there, his gaze lingering on Daiyan's face, as if first confirming that this person's face was the one he remembered.
Daiyan looked at him too, and the two stared at each other for a moment, a few steps apart. Daiyan's right hand gripped the short knife, his knuckles white, his arm slightly tense. Behind him stood two soldiers, also holding weapons, but they did not move.
Xueya tilted his head slightly, as if gesturing to the people behind him. Two Wolf Tribe warriors walked around him and entered, carrying ropes in their hands. One of them kicked up a little dust as his boots stepped over the threshold. They didn't run or speak; they simply walked slowly, as if they knew there was no need to rush any further.
After the Valley Tribe's Little Valley Camp Outpost was breached, the camp was lit up with fire all night long.
Warehouses and granaries were opened one after another, and sacks of grain and bundles of tools were carried out and piled on the open ground. Sacks were cut open for inspection, dried meat and salt were divided into different carts, and copperware was bundled and stacked on the open ground near the campfire to be inventoried at dawn. Several campfires were relit, and the orange-red flames cast long, overlapping shadows of those carrying supplies onto the camp walls and the ground. Xueya walked behind a team that had just finished searching for supplies. His pace was unhurried, as if he were walking a path he knew by heart. Occasionally, he would stop, bend down, and look at a piece of cloth handed to him by one of his soldiers. He would feel the thickness of the cloth with his fingers, confirm the type, and then point to a spot to indicate where to put it. The supply list in his hand was slightly curled at the edges by the firelight, but the writing was still legible—the amount of supplies distributed that night was a little more than expected, but not excessive.
The captured members of the Valley Tribe huddled behind a fence in a corner of the camp. The fence was a makeshift structure made of rough timber that had been piled up next to the warehouse. Arms and fingers were wedged between the gaps. Some were weeping softly, some were sitting on the ground leaning against the fence, and some had their faces buried in their knees, their shoulders trembling slightly. No one spoke, except for the occasional low sobs, which were quickly drowned out by the night wind and the crackling of the fire.
At dawn the next day, the camp was littered with traces of the previous night. Several wooden stakes still leaned at the breaches in the walls, the cracks in the doors were wide open, and the soil around the doors was mixed with crushed grains of rice, dried clods of mud, and marks darker in the morning light. There were shallow craters from arrows and stubble of grain trampled by horses on the ground, the grains scattered in the dust, smeared with dew and mud into dark patches. The grains that had been spread out on the threshing ground had been trampled into the cracks in the ground, mixed with the soil, making it impossible to distinguish between grains and clods of earth. Daiyan was locked in a small hut where farm tools were stored. Through the crack in the door, he could see the Bear Tribe warriors lined up in the distance, their hands still stained with bloodstains from the previous night, squatting on the ground sharpening their knives with wet stones.