Ask the mountains and rivers

Chapter 339 The Grassland (Part 1)

Five days later, Zhan Fei, Fang Datou, and their group set off.

Hemu finally donned the grey uniform of the Pei family army and followed behind Fang Datou with a group of cavalry. He no longer attracted so much attention.

The Xianbei cavalrymen squeezed into the crowd seeing them off, and looking at their leader's dashing figure, they were filled with envy: "If only we could come along too."

“We’ve only been with Pei’s army for a few months. How could we possibly be given such an important task?”

"Maybe we'll have a chance to be selected next year."

One of the honest and straightforward men spoke up: "We will all stay as hostages so that Lord Hemutou can go. If Lord Hemutou does something wrong, we won't be able to live."

The Xianbei cavalrymen all glared at them.

The honest Xianbei cavalryman had no qualms whatsoever: "I'm happy to stay with Pei's army. I get enough to eat every day, and I don't have to think about anything except training."

Pei Qinghe personally saw him off. Disliking idle chatter, she couldn't help but give him one last piece of advice: "If you encounter danger, abandon the goods and run. Make sure you return safely."

The crowd responded in unison, and with high spirits, they spurred their horses onward.

Dozens of large horse-drawn carriages, loaded with tea, cotton cloth, and salt, moved forward at a leisurely pace. On the carriage at the very front, a black flag bearing the character "Pei" was displayed.

Within the territory of Youzhou, this Pei-character flag served as a talisman for the caravan. Wherever they went, bandits avoided them, government officials respected them, and they passed through without hindrance.

The caravan followed its usual trade routes, leaving the pass through Beiping County and entering the grasslands.

In spring, the grasslands are covered with an endless expanse of green. Warhorses can easily graze on the tender grass, which is much fresher and tastier than stored fodder.

The warhorses roamed joyfully, but Zhan Fei, Fang Datou, and the others grew tense and cautious. They deliberately chose the most remote route, staying far away from the major Xiongnu tribes.

The Xiongnu barbarians suffered two consecutive defeats, failing to bring back large amounts of money, grain, and civilians, and also incurring heavy losses in terms of soldiers and casualties. The Xiongnu Khan was furious and issued a strict order to kill any merchant caravans from Jingchao without exception. However, this order was not strictly enforced.

The grassland herders have herds of cattle and sheep, and plenty of good horses. But they need to buy tea leaves to brew the finest milk tea. They need to exchange these for cotton cloth to make cool and beautiful skirts for the hot weather. Salt is also an indispensable commodity.

Ordinary herders could not understand or empathize with the Khan, who had no shortage of supplies. The Khan didn't need caravans, but they were indispensable to him.

The Zhan family caravan, with its fine tea, large quantities of cotton cloth, and ample salt, was the most welcomed caravan by the grassland herders. The herders had their own channels for communication; as soon as the Zhan family caravan entered the grasslands, herders would secretly arrive with their horses.

"You've finally arrived. We've been waiting for you for so long!" the herders said warmly. "You're the fairest business partners."

Zhan Fei had already changed his clothes, putting on the long robes that the herdsmen were used to wearing. He spoke fluent Xiongnu language, with almost no accent: "The Khan forbade us to enter the grassland, so we risked our lives to come here. You are all my old friends, and the price will remain the same as before. The price will be higher for the people you brought."

The herders agreed that this was reasonable, and after exchanging for the supplies they needed, they left happily.

Then, bandits came in the middle of the night.

They exchange goods during the day and become bandits at night, stealing the goods back. This is a common practice among the herders. Both sides have an unspoken agreement not to fight to the death; after a brief struggle, seeing they can't gain the upper hand, the "bandits" quickly escape.

Fang Datou spat at the fleeing bandits: "These ungrateful wretches. They're humble and enthusiastic during the day when they come to exchange tea, cotton cloth, and salt. But once they get the goods, they turn their backs on you."

Zhan Fei laughed, "That's how the nomads on the grasslands are. Everyone can ride a horse and shoot arrows. They just cover their faces with a cloth and they're bandits. They won't fight to the death; if they can't steal anything, they'll run away. Let's keep going." He Mu whispered, "We need to hurry. With so many people knowing our whereabouts, it might reach the ears of the Xiongnu Khan."

If the Xiongnu Khan were to send his elite cavalry, they would have to abandon their goods and flee for their lives. Their mission was to bring back as many warhorses as possible; they had no time to argue with the herdsmen.

“Hemu is right.” The caravan was led by Zhan Fei, who quickly made a decision: “Let’s leave immediately, without stopping.”

The caravan quietly changed its route and sped up considerably. Many herders who came to chase after them were disappointed. They pursued the caravan with their cattle, sheep, and horses for several days, but still couldn't catch up and had to return dejectedly.

After a month of arduous travel, they finally left the territory of the Xiongnu Khan and reached the grasslands and pastures of the Xianbei people. Only then did everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

With Hemu by their side, they were able to find suitable water sources along the way and avoid swarms of bandits, making their journey quite smooth. Zhan Fei was much more polite to Hemu, and Fang Datou no longer gave him the cold shoulder, taking the initiative to ask Hemu, "Which Xianbei tribe should we exchange horses with?"

Hemu laughed and said, "Let's slow down and keep moving forward. Soon, a tribe will send people here."

Over the next two or three days, Xianbei herdsmen continued to come and exchange horses.

Some people even recognized Hemu.

"Hemu, you're still alive!" A tall herdsman with dark skin and green eyes exclaimed in Xianbei language.

Hemu stared intently at the tall, green-eyed herdsman: "Yes, I didn't die, and I even became a guard for the caravan."

After the green-eyed herdsman left, Hemu solemnly reminded him, "This man is called Kunbu, a lackey of the Xiongnu Khan. I have always suspected that he was the one who led the Xiongnu to my tribe that day."

"He'll definitely disguise himself as a bandit tonight to steal the goods."

Zhan Fei was in charge of the caravan's business, while fighting bandits was Fang Datou's job.

Fang Datou sneered, "If he dares to come, I'll take his life!"

That night, as expected, a group of bandits launched a surprise attack on the caravan. Fang Datou, who was prepared, shouted a warning. Soldiers hidden behind the tall carriages drew their bows and fired arrows. Several volleys of arrows felled most of the dozens of bandits. The remaining bandits fled on horseback.

Normally, this night battle would have ended there.

Tonight, Fang Datou refused to give up, spurring his horse and brandishing his sword as he gave chase. With a single stroke, he felled a bandit, the bandit's body falling to the ground.

The soldiers had been instructed to do their utmost to kill all the bandits who had launched the night raid. Each one was more ruthless than the last.

One of the bandits was exceptionally tall. Fang Datou led a group of men to catch up and together they cut the bandit down from his horse.

He ripped off the black cloth covering his face, revealing a deathly pale face.

Sure enough, it was the green-eyed herdsman Khunbu whom I had seen during the day.

Kunbu, stabbed in the chest, was still alive, staring at Hemu with horrified and resentful eyes. Fang Datou shoved the knife into Hemu's hand.

Hemu took a deep breath and decapitated Kunbu with a single stroke. The head rolled over and was trampled by the horse's hooves, turning into a rotten tomato.

(End of this chapter)