Chapter 140: Wealth Stirs the Human Heart (Part I)

The Wuluohu warrior circled around the bodyguard Axiong, searching for an opportunity to topple his opponent to the ground. Technique is just as crucial in wrestling, yet Axiong's massive physique also implied a loss of agility. Between these gains and losses, the Wuluohu warrior did not retreat; instead, his fighting spirit soared.

Axiong stood unshakable in the center of the arena, quietly waiting for his opponent's attack, completely unconcerned with the Wuluohu warrior who was shorter than him.

Suddenly, the Wuluohu warrior lunged forward from a tricky angle, grabbed Axiong's leather belt, and utilizing the momentum of his previous spin, exerted all his force to attempt a reverse body drop.

The moment the Wuluohu warrior exerted his strength, he immediately realized he had made a colossal mistake. Axiong's feet seemed deeply rooted in the earth, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake Axiong's body in the slightest.

In the split second the Wuluohu warrior was stunned, Axiong extended an ape-like arm and grabbed his shoulder. An instant mountain-like pressure weighed down on the warrior's shoulder, and with a powerful shove, the Wuluohu warrior felt as though his body was being driven into the ground. Just as he tried to withdraw and step back, Axiong hooked his leg against the warrior's heel, and with a dull thud, the Wuluohu warrior was sent sprawling to the ground.

In a clean and decisive round, the Wuluohu warrior was knocked down, and a roar of derisive laughter erupted from the surrounding crowd!

The Wuluohu warrior's face turned crimson. Unreconciled, he scrambled up from the ground with a grunt, emitted a low, beast-like roar from his throat, and charged straight at Axiong once again!

A fierce glint flashed in Axiong's eyes. He reached out and pressed down on the warrior's head, pulled his body lightly backward, and smoothly led with the momentum. The Wuluohu warrior was sent flying along with that force, crashing down even more miserably this time, utterly devoid of the strength to get back up.

As the Wuluohu warrior struggled to rise, two Wuluohu soldiers immediately rushed forward and helped him to his feet.

"Disgraceful... Fall back at once!"

Pu Kun raised his ox-horn cup toward Zhen Er, shouting, "A toast to the caravan's premier warrior!" With that, he pushed the Wuluohu woman beside him forward. "The warrior shall win the favor of a Wuluohu woman. Do not let a woman's tenderness dull a warrior's valor... Go! Bear this warrior's child; the Wuluohu tribe needs the bravest fighters!"

The Wuluohu tribe worshipped strength and valor. Pu Kun having his own woman serve the victor, using Wuluohu women to tend to foreign champions, was an ancient custom of the tribe. In clans isolated from frequent human traffic, this tradition still persisted in certain places to this day—what later generations would refer to as genetic diversity. Long-term internal tribal intermarriage would lead to genetic degradation, and in severe cases, the entire tribe would perish.

Under Pu Kun's enthusiastic hospitality, Zhen Er's caravan conducted their trade within the Wuluohu territory with exceptional smoothness. Hearing that a caravan had arrived, even some smaller neighboring tribes braved the howling winds and bitter cold to rush to the Wuluohu valley for trade, bringing herds of cattle and sheep in exchange for the ironware, brick tea, and floss silk they desperately needed.

Seven days later, the caravan's inventory had grown to include numerous cattle, sheep, and precious medicinal herbs, while gold, agate, and diamonds filled an entire wagon, readying them to depart from the Wuluohu tribe.

That night, Pu Kun hosted a grand farewell banquet for the caravan. The uproarious revelry intoxicated everyone; Wuluohu women clung to the caravan's guards with lingering reluctance, while sounds of laughter and playful chasing echoed joyfully in every corner of the valley. Even Pu Kun sent his own two daughters into Zhen Er's tent.

Pu Kun seemed somewhat intoxicated. The potent liquor brought by the caravan made him feel revitalized. He held a white porcelain cup from the Xing kilns, sparkling droplets of wine clinging to his stubble.

Zhen Er narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze sweeping across Pu Kun's face. "Clear sake flushes men's faces, and wealth touches people's hearts—it is truly the truth!"

As the farewell banquet neared its end, Zhen Er wobbled to his feet and raised a toast to Pu Kun. "The hospitality of the Wuluohu tribe is as warming as a bonfire in winter. Upon my return, I shall spread the word of the Wuluohu's warmth throughout the entire Great Tang. Soon, even more caravans will arrive here. Drink to the friendship between the caravan and the Wuluohu tribe!"

"To friendship... Bottoms up!"

A drowsy Pu Kun was helped into his large tent by his eldest son, Chakan. Once inside, Pu Kun pushed Chakan aside, his gaze suddenly turning sharp and icy. "Are everything and everyone prepared?"

"Everything is ready. We strike at the fourth watch tonight. Six hundred warriors have sharpened their blades; the wind and snow will muffle their shrieks, and our swords are itching to taste blood. All the caravan's goods shall belong to the Wuluohu tribe..."

"Good!" Pu Kun reclined in the soft lambskin chair, his entire body sinking into the middle. He waved a withered arm in the air, clenched his fist tightly, and wore a cruel smile at the corner of his mouth. "As long as we secure the caravan's weapons and wealth, the Wuluohu tribe will launch a fatal blow against the Hejie tribe next spring, and the lush grasslands of Lake Buir shall belong to the Wuluohu!"

Initially, Pu Kun had not planned to raid the caravan. Their strength was not negligible, which had given him some hesitation.

The number of Wuluohu clansmen wintering in the valley was not large, consisting mainly of Pu Kun's direct lineage; the other Wuluohu clansmen were scattered across various regions, making it impossible to summon them on short notice. Furthermore, more people meant more loose lips and a smaller share of the spoils, and Pu Kun had no intention of letting a pie dropped from the sky be handed away for free.

What truly made Pu Kun's mouth water were the fine weapons in the caravan's possession. The sharp horizontal sabers and nimble compound crossbows were the absolute best armors for fighting the Hejie tribe. How could anyone not be tempted?

Six hundred Wuluohu warriors launching a sneak attack on one hundred and fifty caravan guards seemed to give them a numerical advantage, but deep down, Pu Kun felt uncertain.

Pu Kun had plotted this raid plan for days, yet still struggled to make a definitive decision.

Seeing Pu Kun hesitate, Chakan could not help but grow anxious. "Father, if we let tonight pass, there will be no other opportunity!"

"Let me think on it a bit more."

The older a person grew, the more reservations they held. The odds of success for a sneak attack were around sixty percent, but casualties were inevitable. The death of any member of his direct lineage would ache his heart. If circumstances allowed, Pu Kun would not hesitate for a second to sacrifice members of other clans.

"There is a saying in the Central Plains: If you do not enter the tiger's den, how can you catch the tiger's cub? Father! As long as we occupy the Hejie tribe's grasslands next spring, the Wuluohu territory will expand twofold. If we miss this chance, we will have to wait another two or three years!"

Chakan's words struck Pu Kun's vital weakness. Did he even have another two or three years? The Northern Sea grew colder with each passing year. If another white disaster struck, it would not be the Wuluohu annexing the Hejie, but rather the Hejie devouring the weakened Wuluohu.

"Very well! Closely monitor every move the caravan makes. Send them more fine wine and food, and let the Wuluohu women wear down their edge inside the warm felt tents. This is the final gift the Wuluohu tribe gives them!"

Chakan turned and strode out of the tent, waving a hand to summon several warriors. "Act tonight. Leave no survivors!"