Chapter Forty-Four: Willing Submission

At the mouth of the valley, the ground was uneven. One of the laborers stumbled, his bamboo basket tipping over, and several stones rolled out onto the earth. Startled, he hurriedly gathered the stones back into the basket, glancing anxiously around. Seeing nothing amiss, he feigned nonchalance and continued his work.

Stones! These treacherous Han soldiers! Jian Yue nearly shouted aloud. At least a hunter's trap in the wild would bait with meat—yet they sought to lure them with mere rocks.

Something was wrong. The two suddenly realized and, turning, sprinted back in the direction they had come. If the grain transported here was fake, the real stores must still be in the fields.

A short while later, a figure dropped down where they had stood, whistled, and countless silhouettes vaulted through the treetops, racing along another path.

Panting, Fang and Jian Yue arrived at their tribe’s temporary camp. Peering through the foliage, they saw the fields deserted and shrouded in darkness.

"Where's the grain? My grain!" Jian Yue seized a tribesman and demanded loudly.

The tribesman, mind blank, cried out instinctively, "It wasn't me! I didn't take it!"

Furious, Jian Yue kicked him to the ground.

Fang summoned the sharpest minds among the tribe and recounted what had happened. After the transport team and Han soldiers departed, the remaining people tidied up and, under cover of night, carried the bamboo baskets away.

Following the direction pointed out by the tribesman, it led toward Gumei City.

It was over—truly over. The two had traveled tens of miles back and forth, and Gumei City lay only twenty miles away. By now, the grain was likely already entering the city.

Jian Yue wailed and collapsed, while the tribesmen, though unsure of what had occurred, sensed something ominous.

Fang’s gaze flickered, then suddenly he clapped his hands and burst out laughing.

He’d gone mad. Even someone as clever as Fang could not withstand such a blow. Jian Yue felt somewhat relieved, about to offer comfort, when—

"Come, let’s go seize the grain!" Fang declared, radiant with excitement.

"Seize the grain?" Jian Yue was dazed. "You mean to storm Gumei City?"

"Precisely. Think—where are the Han soldiers now?"

"Aren’t the Han soldiers waiting in the valley to ambush us?" Jian Yue’s eyes brightened. "Right, the city must be empty of Han troops now! Ha, ha, ha!"

The two laughed together.

"The Han treat us as fools, but they are the true fools," Jian Yue rejoiced, hastily issuing orders with Fang for their respective tribes to march on Gumei City.

Under the night’s canopy, Gumei City was silent, save for crickets singing from the cracks in the stone. When someone approached, they paused, then, sensing no danger, resumed their cheerful chorus.

Fang and Jian Yue’s spirits soared in step with the moonlight. The city gate stood clear, and agile tribesmen scaled the walls with ease, quietly unlatching the gate—there was not a single guard.

The valley where the Han lay in ambush was over thirty miles distant; if they moved quickly, they could empty the grain stores before word reached the Han.

With a wave, the two led their tribes into the city.

Outside the city lord’s residence, several huge torches burned, guiding their way. Only the storerooms and rear courtyard could hold such amounts of grain, and the tribes were well acquainted from previous raids.

Strangely, no one in the city seemed roused—perhaps, exhausted from the day’s harvest, all slept deeply?

A sliver of doubt flashed through Fang’s thoughts, but he had no time to dwell on it. The rear courtyard door was kicked open, revealing rows upon rows of bamboo baskets stacked high.

Someone fetched a torch, and by its light, the two peered inside—empty?

The lower rows, still empty; further down, also empty.

Basket after basket was upturned, but all were empty.

The storeroom! The two exchanged a glance and rushed inside.

The storeroom was likewise packed with baskets—yet all were empty.

Where—where was it?

They rushed back out to the courtyard, now filled with tribesmen. Moments ago, the atmosphere was boisterous; now, a hush settled as all looked to their chieftains.

The city remained silent, save for the crackling of torches.

"We’ve been duped, after all," Fang said bitterly.

At the city gate, flames burst forth as the Han army marched in formation, blades gleaming coldly in the firelight.

From rooftops and city walls, countless shadows emerged.

Jian Yue roared and raised his bronze sword, charging the Han troops—chieftains alone possessed such fine weapons.

His tribesmen shouted as they followed, wielding bamboo spears and wooden clubs.

From the darkness, arrows whistled, felling tribesmen with anguished cries. Jian Yue had already reached the Han front line.

Han Zhan stood in the front ranks, sneering as he raised his newly issued iron sword and struck forcefully.

The iron sword cleaved through the bronze blade without resistance, then easily split the burly figure in two.

Silence returned, broken only by the groans of wounded tribesmen—none dared advance further.

Fang trembled, slowly lowering himself to the ground, calling out, "We surrender!"

The tribes behind him all prostrated themselves.

"You are Fang?" Meng Di stepped forward.

"Yes, I beg you, lord, spare my life," Fang replied, not daring to look up.

"It seems you are a clever man. There’s not much grain left on the mountain, is there?"

"Not enough to last the winter."

"You wonder where the grain is hidden, don’t you?"

"Fang is foolish; I truly do not know."

"No, you’re not foolish. Smarter than the other mountain Yue. But it’s exactly people like you we aimed to deceive," Meng Di laughed heartily, and the others joined in.

The grain was hidden in the valley, guarded by only a few dozen able-bodied men. Upon learning this, Fang regretted bitterly, having scoffed that Li was a fool—yet he himself was the true fool.

"Rise. This is the best outcome. At least, at the foot of the mountain, you won’t starve," Meng Di said, confidence restored with the grain secured.

Most of Han land was forested, long the domain of the mountain Yue. Now was the right time to learn the lay of the land, and Meng Di brought Fang to the city lord’s residence for questioning.

Within Fang’s knowledge, the mountain Yue still numbered over ten thousand, mostly from Fang and Jian Yue’s tribes, with the majority being elderly, women, and children. Three thousand able-bodied men had come for the grain.

The forests stretched far, with more tribes in the distance whose details were unknown.

The most valuable information Fang provided was that the mountain contained a path leading north; beyond it lay the great river.

Thus, Han land now possessed a northern route.

The agreed time for Ji Chao’s return to Chu had come, but with this route, the journey to Wan was greatly shortened.

Ji Chao was unaware of what had transpired in Gumei City. After offering sacrifices to the Bird God, he was taken to tour the ancestral land of the Han tribe.

Meng Di instructed Xiao Wu and Xiao Liu to escort Ji Qu and five hundred laborers up the mountain, guiding Ji Chao directly to Chu via the path, and ordered that the subjugation of the mountain Yue tribes remain secret—lest Ji Chao worry that Han’s power had so increased he would not dare bring the four tribes.

Xiao Wu had already returned from Zuili; it was clear Goujian had not heeded Meng Di’s warning, for the lands he occupied were fertile, rich with rice, and he would not easily relinquish them.

Meng Di arranged for Xiao Wu to lead Ji Qu and the escort all the way to Wan, while Xiao Liu, after crossing the river, was to find the black stone Ji Chao had mentioned and transport it back.