Chapter 7: The White-bellied Sea Eagle and the Pirate

Chapter 7: The White-bellied Sea Eagles and the Pirates

As time passed and the torrential rainy season faded away, the temperature began to drop and the air turned drier—a sure sign, Li Hongshen knew, that winter was approaching. He considered himself fortunate not to have been assigned to a region with distinct seasons during the Lord’s Trial; this island enjoyed a subtropical climate year-round, sparing him the trouble of preparing for harsh cold fronts.

Li Hongshen simply instructed the people of his tribe to pay attention to the changing sunlight. Days seemed to be growing shorter, leaving less time for daily work, and the temperature difference between day and night had shifted enough to make one wary of catching a chill in the middle of the night.

Fengqi Valley itself had undergone some changes as well. The cave storehouse, hewn into the mountaintop, now brimmed with a variety of supplies. Inside, wooden beams and posts crafted from hardwood trees supported the cave, preventing collapse. At the very back rested sun-dried grains, freshly milled flour, and sacks filled with refined salt and sugarcane.

The sugarcane had been processed from a patch discovered deep within the island. By the cane fields, Li Hongshen had constructed both a sugar mill and a papermaking workshop. He made use of the surplus cane pulp for papermaking, and whatever remained was scattered in the fields as fertilizer.

Besides salt, several large wooden barrels, bound with thick hemp rope and labeled with crimson paper, contained flaxseed oil—pressed from the seeds of the flax plant. There were also various clay jars holding a pale yellow ointment: rendered chicken fat and fish oil.

Deeper within, another storeroom held racks from which hung countless smoked fish and preserved chickens, all carefully processed and stored meats.

Beyond that lay the equipment room, with several more large barrels—these labeled clearly as tung oil, used for waterproofing and preserving. Above the barrels, numerous leather armors hung stretched on wooden racks, their oiled surfaces gleaming when caught by sunlight.

Near the cave walls stood well-crafted weapon racks, displaying iron blades sheathed in fish skin. Next to the blades were rows upon rows of spears and iron-tipped lances, all forged over the past six months.

Alongside the familiar small crocodiles, Fengqi Valley now had a few new residents—scouts Li Hongshen had invited from the northern hardwood forest.

White-headed, white-bellied, black-beaked, black-backed, and black-eyed, the island’s only raptors were brought back by Li Hongshen, nest and all.

This time, he once again used fish as bait, but replaced poison with wine—brewed from the first harvest of grains. After patiently waiting a few days, he finally succeeded in intoxicating all the white-bellied sea eagles.

After bringing the eagles back to camp, he had the tribe relocate their nests to the largest phoenix trees in Fengqi Valley. Once the eagles sobered up, Li Hongshen and his people took turns communicating with them throughout the night.

After a week of these all-night conversations, the sea eagles found themselves captivated by Li Hongshen’s charming smile.

And Li Hongshen did not neglect them. As a natural wonder, Fengqi Valley offered the sea eagles a superior environment in which to thrive. The towering phoenix trees sheltered them from wind and rain, and the tribe occasionally provided extra meals. With breeding season underway, dedicated caretakers ensured the eagles were well-fed and strong.

In the end, the eagles settled in contentedly. But Li Hongshen did not grant these natural aerial scouts free rein. To safeguard the trial and the safety of the island’s camp, the prudent and charismatic Lord Li, ever cautious and composed, flashed a sincere smile as he instructed the male sea eagles to patrol the surrounding waters daily, ever watchful for the arrival of outsiders.

Finally, at the end of the seventh month since Li Hongshen began the Lord’s Trial, the shrill cries of the sea eagles echoed from the sky.

Accompanied by their urgent calls, a massive sailing ship emerged from the distant mists, drifting toward the southern shore of the island.

Catching sight of the enormous vessel, Li Hongshen hurriedly produced a simple telescope—a handmade device, its glass lens painstakingly ground from streambed sand, set into a bamboo tube that could be extended or retracted.

Through this crude but effective spyglass, he saw a colossal, hand-built ship. Atop its tallest mast flew a black flag emblazoned with the classic pirate emblem: a skull over a pair of crossed scimitars.

Even from a distance, the ship looked immense, yet battered and nearly ruined. Every sail was riddled with holes, bearing the scars of fire, and the entire vessel seemed on the brink of collapse.

Both sides of the hull bore the marks of hasty repairs; above the waterline, gaping holes let seawater seep inside with every swell, leaving one to wonder how the ship remained afloat at all.

On the pirate ship’s deck lay scattered bones, and filthy pirates roamed about—clearly a crew that had survived a brutal battle and drifted at sea for a long time.

Faced with such a sight, Li Hongshen dared not be careless. These were ruthless pirates, hardened by war and, he suspected, cannibals—especially given the pirate on deck gnawing on a human bone.

He ordered everyone in the tribe to don leather armor, belt on their iron blades, hoist their spears, lances, and quivers, and ready their hunting bows.

Leading his people, he took position in the woods near the southern shore, awaiting the right moment. He estimated it would take at least two hours for the pirate ship to drift ashore on the current.

Li Hongshen could not be sure if the pirates had cannons, nor did he know how much strength they had left, but one thing was certain: he had to eliminate them, no matter the cost.

His decision to wipe out the pirates, and the looming battle, aroused no complaints from anyone in the tribe—young or old, man or woman. They all understood that if the pirates were allowed to land, countless dangers would follow, and they had no wish to gamble on the reliability of such a ruthless crew.

Under their chieftain’s leadership, the tribe had finally achieved a life of plenty. They would not let the pirates destroy it.

Li Hongshen used the time before the pirates landed to set more traps in the woods behind the beach and gathered all the homemade grenades he had painstakingly prepared.

These grenades were made using saltpeter found near the western iron mine, sulfur discovered in Fengqi Valley, and charcoal powder. By mixing them in a ratio of seventy-five parts saltpeter, ten parts sulfur, and fifteen parts charcoal, he produced a primitive form of black powder.

Finally, he combined the powder with scrap iron, packed it into hollowed bamboo tubes, and attached a length of hemp rope soaked in tung oil as a fuse—thus creating a simple, deadly grenade.

Such a weapon was a rare trump card in the Lord’s Trial; over the centuries, few had managed to produce something so devastating, for skill alone was not enough—resources were essential.

As time slipped by, the months of militia training and strict military discipline paid off. The tribespeople waited silently in the forest, conserving their strength and biding their time.

A harrowing battle awaited them—one that would inevitably draw blood, and where only one side would survive.

At last, by noon, the pirate ship that had drifted since morning, propelled by the currents, finally scraped ashore.

(End of chapter)