News of the Evacuation Leaks

At the Wolf Tribe's camp on the Great Rock River, Xueya and Duzhu had been leading the Wolf Tribe's warriors, their families, and some young women and children for three days. During these three days, the commotion in the camp grew louder each day. On the first day, it could be said that they were "taking stock of supplies." On the second day, people saw bags of grain being loaded onto carts. On the third day, even all the warhorses in the stables were led out and washed. By the early morning of the fourth day, just as dawn was breaking and the torches in the camp were still burning, it was no longer possible to hide the fact that the Wolf Tribe was about to evacuate with its people and a large amount of supplies.

The first to discover the situation were a group of people from an affiliated tribe living on the east side of the camp. They lived in mud huts on the outermost edge of the camp, with walls plastered with mud and straw, and roofs covered with tattered straw mats. Several family members squeezed into one hut, with a layer of dry straw on the ground serving as their bed. An old man who got up early was the first to see the carts loaded with grain lined up facing the south gate. He ran back to the hut area and shouted a few times. Those who were still sleeping were woken up, rubbing their eyes as they crawled out of their huts. Seeing the scene, they all understood. The news spread like wildfire among the affiliated tribes. In less than half an hour, several hundred people had gathered at the hut area. Some hadn't even had time to put on their outer clothes and ran out shirtless. Some were carrying children, and some were supporting the elderly. They all surged toward the open space in the center of the camp, where carts loaded with supplies were parked. The grain sacks on the carts were piled higher than a person's head. Wolf Tribe warriors stood beside the carts, holding bronze spears, the spearheads pointed at the crowd.

A limping, burly man with dark skin pushed his way out of the crowd and walked at the front. His name was Heitou, the chieftain of the Black-Headed Bear Tribe. The Black-Headed Bear Tribe used to have several hundred warriors, but after being scattered by the Wolf Tribe, they were incorporated into a subordinate tribe. He still had several dozen disabled but capable men under his command. Although Heitou was lame, he was strong; he could carry a sack of grain in one hand, and his words carried weight in the subordinate tribe. With each step he took, his left foot wobbled to the left, and his shoulder followed suit, but his body remained upright. He stopped in front of the transport convoy, tilting his head back towards... The Wolf Tribe warrior sitting on the cart spoke, his voice booming, carrying the stubbornness that only comes when cornered. His words were a beat faster than usual. "Where is Chief Xueya? I want to Xueya! Are you leaving? Why didn't anyone inform us? We've been working in the camp, farming, raising livestock, repairing fences. If you leave, why aren't you taking us with you? There aren't many supplies left in the camp. With so many of us here, we'll starve before autumn. What will we do without you?"

Before Heitou could finish speaking, a chorus of agreement erupted from the crowd. Some shouted, "Yes, why didn't you take us with you?" Others yelled, "Leave us some food!" Still others shouted, "We want to go too!" The voices mingled together, making the open space in the center of the camp vibrate. Several members of the surrounding tribes, hearing the shouts, also squeezed in. The circle, which had originally consisted of only a few hundred people, quickly swelled to several hundred more, nearly a thousand people forming a semicircle around the transport convoy. And there were many more restless people behind them.

The Duzhu emerged from behind the caravan. Today, she wore a deep purple linen robe, trimmed with leather at the cuffs and collar, tied at the waist with two hemp ropes, and straw sandals on her feet. Her hair was held back with a bone hairpin, a few stray strands fluttering in the morning breeze. She walked up to Heitou, her steps quick and steady. After stopping, she first sized him up, her gaze sweeping from his limping left leg to his clenched fist, then to the people from the subordinate tribes who had crowded behind him. Then she spoke, her voice not loud but shrill, each word like a needle pricking into the fabric, carrying the anger born of offense, her speech a beat faster than usual. "Heitou, you are..." Are you trying to cause trouble? Do we need to report to you whether we're withdrawing or not? Who do you think you are, daring to ask us such questions? Didn't we leave some supplies at the camp? The grain and pickled vegetables in the warehouse are enough for you to eat for a while; you can distribute them yourselves. And aren't there crops in the fields? The second crop of rice and other crops isn't ripe yet, but they'll be ready for harvest in a few months. You can harvest them in the fall. The supplies we took in advance were protection money for the autumn harvest. Our Wolf Tribe is protecting you from the enemies to the south and west, guarding this land for you, so you can farm in peace. Now we won't charge protection money or any other fees for the autumn harvest. Don't you know how much you've gained?"

As soon as Duzhu finished speaking, a burly, pale-faced man with a missing hand rushed forward. His name was Baipi; he used to be the chieftain of the Little White Water Tribe Little White Water Tribe. After the tribe was scattered by the Wolf Tribe, he too was not spared. His right hand was severed in the fight, leaving only half an arm, which he usually bound with a strip of cloth. He used his left hand for work. Although not as strong as Heitou, he was intelligent and held some prestige in the subordinate tribes. He walked to Heitou's side, pressed his left hand in front of him as if suppressing his anger, and then spoke, his voice not loud but clear, his speech a beat slower than Duzhu's. "Chief Duzhu..." But we have so many people here, old and young. The supplies in the camp are definitely not enough to last us until the autumn harvest. The grain in the warehouse, even if we eat sparingly, will only last us a month at most. The pickled vegetables are even worse; they won't last even half a month. The rice in the fields won't be ready for harvest for several more months. What will we eat for the next few months? Please, Duzhu Leader, have mercy and leave us some supplies. We don't need much, just enough to last us until the autumn harvest. There's so much grain on the carts; you'll just leave it in your lair anyway. Leaving some for us is nothing to you, but it's life to us."

After Baipi finished speaking, the hundreds of people who had initially surrounded the Wolf Tribe's transport caravan instantly moved a little closer. Their steps were slow but steady, inching forward step by step. The Wolf Tribe warriors standing beside the carts pushed their spears forward a bit more, but the crowd didn't stop. Soon, hundreds more onlookers surged forward. People from the affiliated tribes who had come from all over the camp surrounded the transport caravan in layers. Those in front stood close to the carts, while those behind stood on tiptoe to see. Those further back could only see the backs of the heads of those in front. The crowd included men and women, the elderly and children, all with their eyes fixed on the grain sacks on the carts. The sacks were bulging, their openings tied with hemp rope, the ends of which dangled from the edges of the carts, swaying gently in the morning breeze. Moreover, the affiliated tribes watching from behind were also showing signs of restlessness. Some began to push forward, causing those in front to stumble and regain their balance. Some muttered, "We outnumber them!" Others began to reach for the sacks on the carts.

Xueya stood beside the cart at the very front of the convoy, remaining silent and observing coldly. Today, he wore a dark gray leather armor over a long black linen robe, the hem of which billowed and fell back down in the wind. A bronze-buckled leather belt cinched his waist, from which hung a bronze dagger. The scabbard was made of Yingmu covered in cowhide, and the hilt, wrapped with old cloth strips, gleamed in his hand. The gruesome scar on his face, running from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, appeared even deeper in the morning light, like a centipede crawling across his face. He seemed thinner than before, the skin on his cheekbones taut, and his eye sockets even more sunken. But his eyes remained fierce, like a hungry wolf cornered, ready to pounce. He saw the crowd closing in on the transport team, saw people reaching for bags on the trucks, saw Heitou and Baipi standing at the front of the crowd, refusing to back down. He pulled his hand back from his belt, then spoke, his voice hoarse, carrying a simmering ferocity that had been suppressed for a long time. His speech was slow, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. "Baipi! Heitou! Are you trying to rebel? Looks like you really think our Wolf Tribe is easy to bully. Men, kill those who surround us! Let's see who dares to cause trouble!"

As soon as Xueya finished speaking, the three hundred Xueya guards, who had been prepared beforehand, spurred their horses and charged towards the nearest thousand people, hacking and slashing. These guards rode uniformly chestnut horses, their manes neatly trimmed and their tails tied with hemp rope. The riders wore identical leather armor, the bronze plates on their chests gleaming in the morning light. Bronze daggers hung at their waists, and they gripped bronze spears or swords in their hands. The cavalry charged out simultaneously from both sides of the caravan, their hooves pounding the dirt road of the camp with a dull thud. Dust billowed in the morning mist, obscuring the figures of the subordinate tribesmen. When the cavalry charged into the crowd, those people hadn't even reacted. Some were still reaching for bags on the carts, some were still pushing forward, and some were still shouting, "Give us..." "Leave some food!" It wasn't until the sabers slashed down, the horses' hooves trampled, and the spears pierced them that they snapped out of their daze. Heitou was the first to be hit. A guard rode past him, his bronze saber slashing down horizontally. Heitou blocked with his left arm, but the blade struck his forearm, tearing open the flesh and drawing blood. He groaned, staggered back two steps, and was caught by those behind him. Baipi stood beside him. A guard's horse hoof stomped on his left leg. He heard his bones crack, and then he collapsed, trampled by the surging crowd. He rolled on the ground, clutching his broken leg, too pained to even scream, only gasping for breath.

These ragtag people were no match for the ruthless Wolf Tribe. After the Wolf Tribe slaughtered dozens of people, the nearly one thousand scattered instantly. Some ran towards the sheds to the east, some towards the river to the west, some towards the camp gate to the south, some carried children, some helped the elderly, and some ran on their own. They didn't care about anything else. The members of the surrounding affiliated tribes ran far away. They didn't dare to surround the Wolf Tribe's transport convoy. They ran all the way to the fence behind the camp before stopping. They turned around and looked at the wounded still rolling on the ground and the corpses lying in pools of blood. Their expressions were frozen, their lips were white, and their fingers were clenched tightly at their sides, but not one of them dared to take another step forward.

Xueya, observing the panicked state of the affiliated tribes, turned his gaze from the scattered figures in the distance to Duzhu's face. His voice, hoarse with a quiet calm born of being cornered, spoke a beat slower than before, "Ignore them. They've wasted so much of our time causing this commotion. Let's get out of here first. These affiliated tribes will disperse after a bit of a ruckus; they're no threat. Heitou and Baipi are down, the rest are just a disorganized mess." He paused, his fingers pressing and releasing on his belt, glancing towards the south gate before continuing, his voice lower than before, "I have a bad feeling, and it's getting stronger. We should leave as soon as possible. Tell everyone to head east after leaving the south gate of the camp, not north. Yexiao Owl's group to the north takes a different route. We'll split into two groups and meet up again at the foot of Stone Ridge Mountain."

After listening, Duzhu nodded, put the wooden tablet in her hand into her bosom, and then spoke, her voice steadyer than before, and her pace quickening. "Okay, I'll make the arrangements. You take the soldiers to guard the convoy, and I'll escort the supply caravan in the middle." She turned and strode quickly towards the caravan, her steps long and fast. Reaching the first cart, she called out to the soldier sitting on its shaft, "Let's go! Out the south gate, head east, don't stop!" The soldier flicked the Jiangsheng, and the cart slowly began to move, its wheels creaking on the dirt road of the camp. One cart after another followed, with cattle, horses, pigs, and sheep herded by some teenagers.

Xueya stood beside the south gate, watching the convoy drive out of the camp one vehicle at a time. Once outside the south gate, the convoy turned onto the dirt road to the east. The creaking of wheels, the thumping of hooves, the bleating of cattle and horses, and the shouts of men mingled together. Dust rose from the dirt road, gleaming grayish-yellow in the morning light, enveloping the entire convoy as it slowly crawled towards the northeast, towards Stone Ridge Mountain.