Chapter 51: The Alliance (Part Five)

The two old men met and immediately struck up a lively conversation.

As for Luo Dun, there was little to be said—these past years, he had lived well, nourished by rich meats, and the tonics and medicinal brews sent from Sui had never been lacking. He kept up with exercise too, so that although his hair and beard were now flecked with white, his face was ruddy and his voice rang with such vigor that when Xu Le sat beside him, he sometimes felt his eardrums quiver.

Now, seeing his old friend come out to greet him in person, all of Luo Dun's earlier misgivings vanished. His voice grew even louder, drowning out the noises made by the dozens of riders around him.

Gaidawutu, though bearing the look of a man worn thin by the harsh years on the steppe and the strain of leading a vast tribe, made an effort to rouse his spirits. Luo Dun spoke with a booming voice, so Gaidawutu raised his own, matching his old friend's banter with laughter.

Their followers, who a moment before had looked ready to draw steel when Luo Dun refused to advance, now relaxed. The tension dissipated, and hands fell away from weapon hilts. Smiles and nods were exchanged, and some even began to speak in low, friendly tones.

Only Buli remained at Luo Dun’s side, hands still resting on the daggers at her waist, her eyes fixed warily on Gaidawutu with the same fierce expression as before.

The two old men rode side by side toward the encampment of the Qianyu-Yue Tribe. Along the way, the number of their riders grew—from small groups of three or four to squads of ten and more—until nearly two or three hundred horsemen were scattered outside the camp. It was known that the other eight tribes had each brought only a few dozen warriors, the rest being commoners for transporting goods, driving carts, and tending horses. For this alliance, the Qianyu-Yue Tribe had truly put forth a grand display.

Noticing the swelling ranks of Qianyu-Yue horsemen, Buli’s expression grew more taut and ferocious. She seemed so tense her very hair might bristle, her body coiled tight, blue-tinged eyes darting with heightened vigilance—as if poised to spring into action at any moment.

Gaidawutu glanced at Buli and chuckled, “Old fellow, this must be the wolf-girl you picked up. I never thought you’d care for her so much, bringing her wherever you go.”

Luo Dun shook his head. “Had you seen me bring her before? It’s only in recent years that I dare. In the past, if I brought her along, she’d have leapt at you by now. With those old bones of yours, I doubt you’d withstand her bite.”

In earlier days, such a jibe would have prompted Gaidawutu to curse loudly in return, boasting that he could still ride a rough horse, draw a stiff bow, drain two jars of wine, and keep up with his young wives all the same.

Now, however, he only gave a low laugh and said quietly, “Yes… Ever since old Xu Gan dared not come, it’s been four or five years since we’ve met. You’ve stayed shut in your mountains, playing the local lord and trading fox pelts. I’ve been struggling to hold together the Qianyu-Yue. Xu Gan spoke true, but… we can’t afford to wait any longer.”

Seeing his old friend so stooped and weary, the signs of decline clear upon him, Luo Dun felt a pang of sorrow and forced a bitter smile. “Xu Gan himself isn’t well. They say he was struck by paralysis and is bedridden. He sent his grandson in his stead—he’s staying with my tribe now. Were it not for this alliance being strictly among the Nine Surnames, I’d have brought the boy to see you.”

Gaidawutu jolted in surprise. “Xu Gan too? And his grandson is here?”

Then, with a sigh of defeat, he added, “You did right not to bring him. Ten years ago, Xu Gan joined us in that campaign—the Qianyu-Yue lost nearly a thousand young men, and you lost your son. Xu Gan himself was gravely wounded. To this day, the Qianyu-Yue remember it. The Nine Surnames are gathering now merely to protect themselves. If Xu Gan’s grandson came, people might think we’re preparing for war with the Turks again, afraid we’ll drag the tribes into ruin once more. In that case, there’d be no point in holding this council.”

This council of the Nine Surnames had been proposed by the Qianyu-Yue. Upon learning of it, Luo Dun’s Lianghait Tribe had done all they could to support their old friends, coming in person as well. He had expected to find some remnant of ambition in his friend, but instead found only this listless shell.

The Nine Surnames Council aimed to unite the tribes—together, more than twenty or thirty thousand tents could be assembled, with two thousand warriors ready for battle at any time. Positioned between Sui and the Turks, if they leaned toward Sui, even the Turks would be forced to tread carefully. The Turks, in turn, would have to alter their previous ways of oppressing the tribes, and the Nine Surnames could use the tension between Sui and the Turks to catch their breath.

As for the future—that would be for their descendants to worry about. Luo Dun and Gaidawutu had already fulfilled their duty.

Luo Dun believed he saw the matter clearly; forming an alliance was a reasonable compromise. Ten years ago, he and Gaidawutu had dreamed of seizing independence while the Turks were weakened by internal strife, but now such ambitions had long faded.

And yet, even this modest goal could not avoid conflict with the Turks. The Turks would inevitably respond with threats or force, attempting to frighten the Nine Surnames into submission. At that time, firmness would still be needed, to make the Turks realize that war would only drive the tribes fully into Sui’s arms, making the cost too great.

But in his friend’s current state, even this seemed too much to hope for. Was there any point in convening the council at all?

As the encampment drew near, Luo Dun said in a low, steady voice, “Wutu, have you forgotten what Xu Gan told us? The Han have always reunited after long division. After centuries of chaos, unity is inevitable. There may be setbacks, but the tide cannot be turned. The Turks may be strong for now, but their tribal bonds are not as tight as the Xiongnu’s, nor is their order. In the end, their fate might be worse than the Xiongnu, whom the Han Emperor Wu destroyed! If our Nine Surnames can hold together through these times, perhaps we’ll live to see the end of the Turks. Then no more will our cattle and horses be plundered by the Turks, no more will our young men be sent to die for them, no more will we grovel at their feet. All this, if only our Nine Surnames remain united!”

Luo Dun’s voice was low, but each word was unwavering.

Gaidawutu’s gaze grew distant, but finally, he straightened and managed a bitter smile and a nod. “You still believe Xu Gan’s words… Very well. We’ll see this council through and endure these times together!”

With that, surrounded by their followers, the two old men approached the Qianyu-Yue encampment. The gates had been thrown open and the drawbridge lowered in welcome.

Inside, around the royal tent, people from all the tribes mingled with the Qianyu-Yue warriors. The elite of the Nine Surnames were all present—each man robust and fierce. Above the king’s tent, the Qianyu-Yue banner fluttered, and the colors of each tribe were also raised, streaming proudly in the wind.

It was indeed a stirring sight—the Nine Surnames united, standing firm in these perilous times.

Luo Dun took a deep breath, suppressing the hint of foreboding in his heart, and moved to ride forward. At that moment, a small, alabaster-white hand shot out and seized his reins.

He turned and saw that it was Buli, clutching his horse’s bridle, barring his entry. Her large eyes, full of anxiety and unease, were fixed on him.

Luo Dun scolded, “Buli, what are you doing?”

She bit her lip, stubbornly refusing to let go.

Gaidawutu’s expression shifted, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, he held back and let Luo Dun handle it.

Luo Dun softened his tone. “Buli, come in with me. I won’t leave you outside.”

She only shook her head, gripping the reins all the tighter. Her long, dark hair swayed with her movements, glossy as a dream.

Seeing Luo Dun and Gaidawutu halted at the gate, those waiting inside grew restless. Lie Lie hurried up, face stern, and snapped at Buli, “What are you doing? This isn’t the place for your nonsense!”

Buli ignored her, her wide eyes fixed on Luo Dun, silently pleading.

Luo Dun glanced around, then his face grew stern as he said to Buli, “Let go!”

Faced with Luo Dun’s severity, Buli shrank, overwhelmed not only by her innate sensitivity to danger but also by Luo Dun’s uncharacteristic harshness—he had never before spoken to her this way.

Under his stern gaze, she lowered her head and slowly uncurled her fingers from the reins. Luo Dun took them up and turned to Gaidawutu with a smile. “Let’s go in, then. No sense making everyone wait.”

Gaidawutu, standing by, inclined his head slightly. At Luo Dun’s words, he seemed to come to himself, and broke out in hearty laughter. “Yes, let’s go in!”