Chapter Forty-Eight: The Alliance (Part Two)

Within the Lianghait Special Tribe's encampment, while the nobles of the other nine surnamed tribes were already on their way, Luo Dun finally rose to his feet. Someone promptly brought in a drink steeped from fine ingredients and medicinal herbs, followed by a large bowl of steaming broth seasoned with fragrant spices. Freshly baked, fermented flatbreads were torn into pieces and soaked in the soup. The moment this tray of food was set inside the tent, the rich scent immediately filled the air.

To the elite families and high houses of the Central Plains, such fare would not even merit a glance, dismissed as something unfit for human consumption. But here, on the remote frontier of the clouds, among the Lianghait’s roaming hosts, it was an unmistakable luxury.

One must know that even in the mighty Heng’an Eagle Command, including Liu Wuzhou himself, meals were served only twice daily, with millet often mixed with other coarse grains. The bread was heavy and dense, leaving one’s jaws aching after a meal. The common folk, scarred by last year’s devastation, fared even worse than the garrison.

Luo Dun was known for his generosity and enjoyed excellent relations both on the steppe and among the Han of the borderlands. Yet in matters of food and comfort, he was decidedly particular. Fortunately, the Lianghait Tribe’s wealth sustained his tastes, which exceeded the usual standards of the frontier.

One reason the Lianghaits were so eager to promote the alliance of the nine surnames was their refusal to be shackled to the Turkic war-chariot, drained of all resources for the benefit of the wolf cavalry, and forced to send their young men to fight and die, rations on their backs.

In the days when the Emperor of Kaihuang reigned and the Sui Dynasty was at its zenith, the Turks sought peace and dared not cross the border. The nine surnamed tribes enjoyed several prosperous years. Luo Dun’s hope was that, through alliance, they might make the Turks hesitate, and prolong those good times.

As the food was set before him, Luo Dun sat down, and a shadow darted by his side, snatching up a piece of bread and stuffing it into her mouth. It was Buli, the little girl who was always most at ease beside Luo Dun, her cheeks bulging with bread as she ate with unrestrained delight. Strangely, no matter how much she ate, she remained small and thin—one wondered where all that food went.

Watching her, Luo Dun’s face was suffused with gentle affection. In old age, one’s thoughts turn to the next generation; seeing them happy brought ease and comfort. Yet, at his age, how much longer could he survive in these turbulent times? When he was gone, what would become of Buli? Could Lie Lie care for her as he had?

These thoughts suddenly took hold of him, and though the aromatic food was right before his eyes, he found himself without the slightest appetite.

His old friend from the Han lands, Xu Gan, surely loved his descendants just as deeply. Yet, even so, he had sent his grandson out into the perilous, unpredictable world of the borderlands to struggle and grow.

His friend must have sensed that greater chaos was coming to the world, and so, with a heavy heart, let his grandson leave, hoping he would have a better chance at survival when the time came.

That old friend, though reticent and reserved, missed nothing and judged everything with unerring precision. If even he had sent his grandson out to prepare for the coming storm, was Luo Dun too naïve in hoping that the alliance of the nine surnames could maintain a patch of peace between Sui and Turk, untouched by the strife?

The more he pondered, the heavier his heart grew, his graying brows nearly knotted together. Beside him, only the sound of Buli wolfing down her food could be heard.

At that moment, footsteps sounded, the tent flap lifted, and Xu Le entered.

Luo Dun had long since given orders that Xu Le could come and go freely without being announced, so there was no guard to announce his arrival.

Xu Le, already a striking youth, appeared even more radiant after a night’s rest. His vigor seemed to shine in the clear morning light, catching every eye and silently drawing praise for his presence.

Only Buli, seeing Xu Le, showed no appreciation. Instead, she wrinkled her nose, hugged her bowl protectively, and assumed a posture as if guarding her food.

Luo Dun greeted him with a laugh, "Up already? Sit and eat!"

Grinning, Xu Le made himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged before the food-laden table. On the tray stood a large clay pot of steaming meat broth and several small bowls for serving. Atop the tray, a pile of fermented flatbreads was stacked high, with a special herbal drink set aside for Luo Dun alone.

The quantity was enough for four or five people. Xu Le reached for a piece of bread, but Buli, sitting opposite him, hunched her back and glared fiercely, as if she was about to snarl.

Xu Le paused, then moved with lightning speed, snatching two pieces of bread before Buli could react, and looked at her with an ambiguous smile.

Enraged, Buli reached for her ever-present dagger, but Luo Dun quickly scolded her, "Stop being so possessive! There’s plenty for you!"

Reluctantly, Buli withdrew her hand, buried her face in her bowl, and refused to look at Xu Le again. Unbothered, Xu Le added broth to his bowl, shredded his bread, and ate leisurely.

Watching this stranger so nonchalantly share in the territory she considered her own, Buli let out a low, plaintive whimper, her fierceness gone, replaced by a childish vulnerability that made one want to pat her head.

Xu Le, eating and glancing at Buli, found the little girl utterly amusing.

He kept his purpose to himself, but Luo Dun understood at once. Sipping his drink, he asked with a smile, "Where are your attendants?"

Xu Le replied, "Thank you for sending someone, sir. They’ve all been fed already. They rose early, enjoyed the hot soup and bread, and didn’t complain at all. I wished to share breakfast with you, so I hurried over."

Luo Dun chuckled, "I suppose it was you who roused them at dawn."

Xu Le flashed a wide, toothy smile but did not admit it.

Luo Dun, not wanting to waste words with his old friend’s grandson, got straight to the point: "Today, no matter what, you cannot accompany me to the alliance gathering!"

Xu Le put on a wounded expression, but seeing Luo Dun’s stern face, realized that, like his own grandfather, the old man was impervious to charm. With a sigh, he said, "Then let me see you off for a while and wait a few miles away. Will that do?"

Luo Dun considered, then nodded slowly. Xu Le, satisfied, pushed aside his bowl. "I’ll go make ready, then!"

At that moment, the tent flap lifted again and Lie Lie entered, ready to escort Luo Dun to the alliance gathering after breakfast.

Today, Lie Lie was neatly dressed, his leather robe concealing armor beneath, his face set in a serious, resolute expression. Seeing Xu Le seated so familiarly beside Luo Dun, he was momentarily taken aback.

Xu Le grinned at him, "Brother Lie Lie, we’ll head out together shortly!"

Lie Lie hesitated, then looked to Luo Dun, who waved him off with a hint of annoyance, "A-Le will only see us off for a while and won’t enter the meeting!"

Lie Lie visibly relaxed and bowed to Luo Dun. "Chieftain, the warriors await outside, ready to depart as soon as you are."

Luo Dun turned and called to Buli, "Buli, let’s go!"

In an instant, the small girl leapt up, wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and transformed from a greedy little glutton to the vigilant, fierce guardian at Luo Dun’s side, her gaze towards everyone now sharp and wary.

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Not far from the Lianghait settlement, on a slightly raised stretch of ground, was the residence of Liu Wenjing and his entourage.

The sudden movements among the Nine Surnamed Tatars had also drawn the attention of Liu Wenjing’s camp.

Though self-important and proud, Liu Wenjing was, without question, one of the cleverest scions of the noble families. That the Nine Surnamed Tatars were suddenly mobilizing, and that the Heng’an Command’s Eagle Warriors seemed to condone such a move, could not fail to strike him as odd.

He had thought that coming to the borderlands would be little more than a tiring journey and that persuading Liu Wuzhou to join Duke Li Yuan of Tang would be an easy task. But upon arrival, he found Liu Wuzhou refusing to meet, while the nobles of the Nine Surnamed Tatars were assembling—revealing undercurrents of unrest.

With a tempest brewing in the Central Plains, a change of dynasties imminent, and fierce battles looming, it was clear that a storm was also gathering here on the very frontier with the Turks.

In this era of chaos, there was nowhere to hide from the tides of history.

Liu Wenjing stood atop his carriage, surrounded by the guards of the Six Army Command, quietly observing all that unfolded. He watched as team after team of tribal nobles left their camps.

Suddenly, in his line of sight, a group carrying a fox-tail banner departed. A local knight, recruited in Mayi, pointed out the banner. "The Lianghaits are moving too. Their chieftain, Luo Dun, is closely tied to the Elder King of the Yue Tribe… Now, all the noble houses of the Nine Surnamed Tatars are assembled!"

Liu Wenjing nodded slowly, pondering a single question:

What exactly was Liu Wuzhou planning?