Chapter 333

“Jiyi! The army has returned!”

A beastman rushed frantically into the livestock shed, finding Zhong Lü, the village priest, who was checking the fodder.

“Really?” Zhong Lü quickly put down his work.
“Has Jiang and the others returned?”

“No—it’s too many people.” The beastman shook his head anxiously. “Ai, I can’t explain it clearly. Priest, you’d better go and see for yourself!”

“Go, go, go!”

The two hurried up the stairs to the lookout tower above the main gate.

Inside the tower were several others—beastmen of a different bearing than the villagers of Zhong Lü. They were patrol officers sent from the city.

Normally these patrol beastmen lived at the office district at the edge of the village. If villagers had trouble, they would lend a hand, and they never put on airs.

But even so, whenever villagers saw them, they would greet them warmly. Today, however, Zhong Lü had no time for formalities.

The moment he got upstairs, still catching his breath, he leaned over the railing and peered out.

From the city’s southern gate stretched a broad, tamped earthen road. When lots were drawn, Zhong Lü village had drawn the very first village west of the main road. Beyond them lay Xu Hu village. Zhong Lü had always been satisfied with this spot—whatever happened in the city, they would know sooner than Xu Hu.

And sure enough—looking out now, an endless procession stretched far beyond sight.

“By the Beast God! Is this really our city’s army? Was the column this long when they left?”

Niu Xin steadied his little official’s cap, which he nearly knocked off in his haste. “Of course it’s ours. Look at the center—besides our Hei Yao army, who else could have so many wagons? And the banners flying above them—you learned those symbols already.”

The news of Hei Yao’s returning army had reached the city days earlier. These patrols at the villages had already been notified. Otherwise, if so many beastmen suddenly appeared, they would have had to rush to the city to report.

But even though Niu Xin and his fellows managed to look calm, inwardly they were as shocked as the villagers.

Good heavens. The messenger had said only that Qi Bai and Lang Ze were bringing back many beastmen. But this—this was far too many! Niu Xin had never in his life seen such a mass of people. His eyes blurred just trying to take it all in.

He must be seeing things—because weren’t some of those beastmen pitch black?

As the column passed the villages without pausing, heading straight for the city, Zhong Lü grew anxious.
“Why don’t they stop? They’re at our doorstep—why don’t the warriors return home?”

Niu Xin had no answer. He gazed enviously at the soldiers.
“The City Lord and the Great Priest surely have their reasons. Just wait patiently.”

But how could Zhong Lü be patient? He had seen, in the daylight, that many on the wagons were bandaged with splints.

Half of Zhong Lü village’s horned beastmen were soldiers. If anything happened to them, what would become of their village?

He tossed and turned all night. By dawn he could bear it no longer.

“Xiao Erzi, Xiao Erzi…”

Lü Er, dozing on his kang, heard someone calling outside. At first he thought he was dreaming. But the voice persisted. Finally he realized someone was truly at the door.

He rolled out, opened the door, and saw the priest wrapped against the cold.
“Priest, what’s wrong at this hour?”

“Nothing’s wrong. But the warriors have returned. I can’t sit still. Go hitch up your cart. Let’s go to the city, maybe we can even bring your father and brother back.”

“I’ll go at once!”

Lü Er’s sleepiness vanished. He dragged out their wagon. Zhong Lü climbed aboard with rations and furs.

The gate watchmen would not let the old priest and boy travel alone in the dark. Ma Tian joined them for the journey.

They left around the third or fourth watch. By the time they reached the city, it was a little after the eighth hour—before the gates had opened.

Ma Tian went to inquire.
“The gates will open soon. We’ll wait.”

Winter dawned late. The gates only opened around the ninth hour. Villagers like Zhong Lü had to be recorded to enter.

They all understood.

In early February of Bei Zhou, the cold was at its peak. Frost clung to Zhong Lü’s eyebrows and lashes. He took out a pouch of butter curds and dried meat.
“Eat something. Once we’re in, I’ll take you for noodles.”

Ma Tian bit into butter curd without fuss. “Forget noodles. I’ll return home after. But you, listen for the drums. When the drum strikes five in the afternoon, the gates close. I’ll wait here for you. If you miss it, you’ll have to stay overnight.”

“Understood,” Zhong Lü said quickly.

Ma Tian added: “If you can’t find news, try the pottery or smithing guilds near the barracks.”

Just then, the sound of more carts came. Two wagons approached. One pulled by a red fox, the other by a gray horse carrying villagers—familiar faces from Zhu Ma, Tan Quan, and Su Yang villages.

Clearly, word of the army’s return had spread.

The difference among the five villages was plain. The others looked battered by their ride. But Xu Hu’s priest, village head’s son Hu Bin, and their elder looked fresh, thanks to their wagon’s rare enclosed cabin.

“See?” Xu Hu’s priest boasted. “Hu Huo is an overseer in the city’s workshops. He taught us to build this fine wagon.”

Everyone knew, thanks to his big mouth, that Hu Huo had come from Xu Hu.

The truth: the workshops taught any who came. But foxes learned faster, being naturally deft. Still, Xu Hu’s priest carried on.

The others ignored him.

Then the massive city gates creaked open. Whatever petty thoughts they’d had vanished. All rushed forward.

Today the gate was manned by Xiang Yu. He saw the villagers and knew their purpose.
“You’ve come just in time. Tell Lang Jin’s crew not to harness their carts—the five villages are here, they can come directly.”

Soon, young Lang Jin and his companions appeared. They had been tasked with reading the proclamation to the villages.

Somewhat sulky—they’d rather be in Shi Lou playing—but they still did their duty.

Lang Jin unfolded the paper and read: the army had won a great victory. The city would grant rewards. Villagers should wait at home; their warriors would return in a few days. Meanwhile, make wooden troughs and stone troughs—these would be needed soon.

The villagers were puzzled, but the meaning was clear: their soldiers were not coming home just yet.

Xiang Yu added: “Don’t worry. They’re in the barracks, not lacking food or drink. Go back, wait.”

Disappointed but with no choice, they dispersed.

Lü Er, burdened with his basket, asked nervously:
“Priest, what do we do now?”

“Eat noodles,” Zhong Lü said firmly.

At the noodle shop, they overheard lively chatter—citizens giddy from the parade of soldiers, boasting of seeing friends and family, marveling at the victorious host.

Zhong Lü seized the chance, asking if anyone had seen donkey-shaped warriors in the column.

“Yes, I saw one in the wagon train,” a beastman said.

Relieved, Lü Er quickly described his father and brother, but no one could confirm clearly. Still, all agreed the warriors looked well.

They tried pottery, smithing, even ventured near the barracks, but were driven away.

With no answers, they bought furs, butter, tofu, even a jar of rare malt sugar—for the children to taste when their warriors returned.

But at the gate, they found twenty shivering children huddled in the shed. Teachers had dismissed them, saying their parents would soon return.

“Go home, all of you,” Zhong Lü ordered gently.

Finally, Ma Tian rejoined them, cheerful:
“The warehouses have been distributing supplies all day—rewards for the soldiers. With Lü Jiang as your village head, surely your men will be richly rewarded.”

Zhong Lü only wished them safe. Still, he thanked Ma Tian, giving him tofu skin for the road.

By the time they rattled back to Zhong Lü village, night had fallen silent.

Meanwhile, the barracks offices blazed with light.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze had already tallied every warrior’s spoils and rewards on the return march. But distribution of rank required careful deliberation.

This was usually handled within the military office. But with so many soldiers involved, even the elders of the council attended.

For most appointments, there was no dispute. Only at the matter of Cang Xie did discontent arise.

Even the mild Hou Yan objected:
“He only just joined the city. How can he hold such an important command?”

Yang Luo agreed:
“The city doesn’t even have spare troops to give him.”

The numbers: twenty small Bei Huang tribes, totaling 8,000, had joined. Together with nearly 30,000 from Yi Di, Hei Yao had brought back almost 40,000 people. And three more tribes had arrived while they were away.

In all, Hei Yao now had nearly 60,000 souls—but fewer than 40,000 warriors.

Already, four of the five generals had been promoted to wanfuzhang (Commanders of Ten Thousand): Xiong Han, Yun Jing, Lang Zhan, Niu Shuo. Only Lang Ji, master of siege engines, remained at his technical post.

Thus, a fifth Commander seemed unnecessary.

Qi Bai raised a hand for calm.
“From the start, I never intended Cang Xie to command our people directly.”

As the man who had unified the Yi Di wastes in five years, his talent was undeniable. But as a defeated enemy, he could not win trust—not from Hei Yao’s warriors, nor even the conquered Le Li.

So Qi Bai’s “Commander” title for Cang Xie was honorary authority in name, rank in meetings, but the troops under him must be won by his own hand. If he gathered a hundred, he would be a bai fuzhang. A thousand, a qian fuzhang. Ten thousand—only then truly a Commander.

Merit earned would silence all doubt.

There was a pause. Lu Yan muttered:
“Will he accept that? It’s hardly better than a mere squad leader…”

Qi Bai only smiled.
“He’s already agreed.”

In fact, when Cang Xie heard the terms, he laughed uproariously.
“Good! Excellent! If you gave me the title freely, I’d think you belittled me. Leading warriors to battle—that’s nothing difficult. Within a year, I’ll make myself a true Commander!”

His rank might be nominal, but his powers were real. He could attend military councils, command in the field, and the city would supply his troops with rations.

In truth, though not yet a general of Hei Yao, he was already close enough.