Chapter Forty-Three: Defense and Seeing Beyond

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The Fang and Jianyue tribes had recently surged in power. Not only had they seized the women, children, and property of the Li tribe, but they had also swallowed up several surrounding small tribes, swelling their numbers to over ten thousand.

As for Li, even after being released, he could not escape death. He had simply been too arrogant in the past, oppressing the other tribes with ruthless force.

The greatest problem in the mountains was still food. Fearing an end like that of the Li tribe, both tribes strove desperately to strengthen themselves, only to discover a dire issue: they could no longer support so many people.

The weather had already turned cold. Without stockpiling grain, a great many would starve to death this winter.

In the past, there had only ever been one solution to such a problem—robbery.

Fang and Jianyue sat facing each other, unable to make up their minds. Over the past days, they had learned that those at the foot of the mountain were not the old Yue people, but the army of the Han, as they were called.

They already knew from Li’s people about how the Han army had easily destroyed over a thousand of the Li tribe’s young and able-bodied men. The Han had proven extremely cunning, luring the tribe into a valley using methods meant for hunting wild boars.

What fools, like a dumb swine!

Both men were skilled hunters, unable to imagine anyone being so foolish.

They had gone to see that valley. The Li people were kept inside, busily engaged in some mysterious work, the clinking of metal echoing. Many soldiers guarded the outside, so they dared not approach.

What truly drew their attention was Han Valley, where a vast field of rice was nearly ripe. To the mountain Yue, used only to bird-pecked fields, such a sight could mean only one thing: plunder.

If only they could seize such a bounty once a year, their lives would be set.

As mountain Yue, they were already intimately familiar with the forests in that area. After long observation, they confirmed that there were no soldiers guarding the fields.

In each other’s eyes, they saw the fear of hunger and the desperate longing for food.

The Han army, they reasoned, was only cunning. If they were truly so formidable, they would have already attacked the mountains.

So, without much hesitation, they set the time for a raid one month later, estimating that the rice would be just ripe then, perfect for the taking.

Meng Di knew nothing of the situation in the mountains, but anyone could guess that once the rice ripened, it would attract covetous eyes.

For the past month, he ate and slept in the military camp, personally training the soldiers.

It was not until the day before the harvest that he convened a meeting at the city residence, with all the core members present.

“Lord, the harvest can begin tomorrow. The manpower has already been arranged,” Han Qu was first to report. Since returning from Kuaiji City, he had set about preparations, commissioning Ganjiang to forge a hundred sickles, with the rest made up with river clam shells and stone knives.

“What’s the situation with the mountain Yue?”

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“They’ve reached west of Han Valley, about two or three thousand strong.”

“That’s quite a number. Which tribe?”

“It’s the Fang and Jianyue tribes together. I’ve heard they’ve annexed the Li tribe and several smaller ones.”

“Lord, let me take the Left Qu and go deal with them.” Han Zhan was itching for action. Having received weapons and armor from Kuaiji City and undergone half a year’s training, he and his men were full of confidence, no longer fearing the natives.

“No. The mountain Yue are skilled climbers. Defeating them is easy, but capturing them alive is hard.” The main goal this time was to take captives; if they escaped back into the mountains, it would take much more effort.

Jing Chuo’s eyes lit up, and he suggested, “Why not lure them into the valley as before?”

“Good, an idea worth considering.” Meng Di liked to encourage his men to think for themselves.

After much discussion, they concluded it would not work. With the fate of the Li tribe as a warning, even the dullest fool would sense the danger—who would dare enter the valley so easily? Besides, Fang was said to be shrewd, unlike the greedy Li.

“Why not lure them into the city?” Jing Chuo blurted out, then realized it was impossible, scratching his head in embarrassment.

The others laughed. Knowing the Han army was there, why would the mountain Yue dare come into the city?

But Meng Di praised him, saying, “Good! Let’s lure them into the city!”

The next day, before dawn, Han Valley was already bustling with activity.

After Meng Di personally presided over the ceremony to the Bird God, the farmers who had been waiting surged into the fields.

Almost every able-bodied person in the Han land was mobilized for this harvest—old and young, women and men, all were assembled.

Watching bundle after bundle of rice being cut and stacked, Jianyue paced back and forth restlessly.

“Fang, we need to act, or it’ll all be carried away.”

“And how do you propose we act?” Fang leaned leisurely against a tree. “Don’t you see those Han soldiers at the edge of the field, armed with sharp blades and clad in sturdy armor? If we charge now, not a single one of us will return.”

Jianyue deflated. He had seen the lines of soldiers at the field’s edge, seemingly no fewer in number than their own.

“So what now? Are we just going to watch the grain being taken away? That’s enough to feed us for a whole year!”

Fang was silent. The Han army’s thousands of soldiers far exceeded his expectations.

In the past, even gathering a few hundred defenders in Gumei City was difficult, and they were rarely fully armored. None were as well-equipped as these Han soldiers, each bearing long spears and bronze swords, quivers of arrows on their backs.

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There was no chance in a frontal assault. Fang considered whether, with the city left empty, they might plunder it instead.

But having seen the mountains of rice before them, he had no interest in scrounging through the city's scraps.

“Enough, Jianyue. A good hunter must be patient.” Unable to stand Jianyue’s constant pacing, Fang chided him softly.

With so many hands and tools—sickles and more—by dusk, nearly all the rice had been harvested.

The bamboo baskets had long been prepared. As darkness fell, the rice was loaded, and under Han guard, transport began.

The Han soldiers were highly vigilant, as if they already knew the mountain Yue were watching from the edges, maintaining alert along the route.

It’s over, it’s over. Jianyue stamped his foot in frustration. If they didn’t attack now, once the grain reached the city, there would be no more chance. Gritting his teeth, he was about to call his people to make a move.

“Wait!”

Jianyue shoved aside Fang, who blocked his way, eyes red and breathing heavily. “If you’re a coward, stay here. Don’t stop me. Without this grain, half our people will starve this winter!”

Fang gave a bitter smile. “It’s the same for my tribe.”

“Then what are we waiting for? We take what we can!”

“Look,” Fang said gravely, pointing toward the Han soldiers, “they’re not taking the grain to the city.”

Indeed, the direction was just the opposite. The two exchanged puzzled glances. If it wasn’t going to the city, then where?

Taking several agile tribesmen with them, they quietly followed at a distance, moving deftly and without fear of discovery.

After traveling several miles, Fang realized with a jolt—wasn’t this the very valley where the Li tribe had been trapped?

Night had fallen. The grain-bearing procession lit torches, casting the valley in a scarlet glow.

The Han soldiers had vanished at some point, and the shadowy hills nearby loomed like beasts ready to devour intruders.

The two men exchanged a glance. “Cunning Han, do they really think the mountain Yue are so ignorant, playing the same trick again?” Jianyue cursed.

By now, they both understood: the Han army was lying in ambush nearby. If they charged in to seize the grain, they would end up like the Li tribe—hunted like wild boars.