Chapter 256: Prairie

Chapter 256: The Grasslands

Until he spurred his horse out of the pass in a fever of anxiety, catching sight of the faint military tents on the horizon beyond the distant line, Zhao Changhe gave a start, quietly detouring far away, while cursing himself inwardly for a fool, losing his composure and not knowing what he was so frantic about.

He Lei’s death had been announced to the world; Yue Hongling, being on the Human Roll, would surely receive the same treatment. Since no announcement came, it at least proved she was alive.

He seemed to have found the greatest merit of the Chaotic World Chronicle, beyond stirring up trouble and showing off: reporting safety.

Thinking of this, he could extrapolate—if a famous figure like Yue Hongling had truly fallen into some trap, the barbarians would have been loudly proclaiming it long ago. Since they hadn’t, it meant she wasn’t captured either, and more likely she hadn’t even encountered danger at all; it was purely his own imagination scaring him.

How vast the boundless grasslands were—to the west lay the Gobi, to the north the great desert, and beyond that, more grasslands stretching a thousand li without a trace of human smoke. Being out of contact for a month or two was perfectly normal.

Cui Yuanyong must have been speechless too, praising his sharp mind one moment while he acted foolishly the next.

No help for it... love clouds judgment; if your sister went missing, I’d be just as frantic.

Anyway, since he was out of the pass, he might as well do his mission while seeking news of Yue Hongling. Perhaps the two tasks were one and the same—it wasn’t impossible.

Zhao Changhe calmed his mind, quietly reined his horse to a slow pace, and circled around, observing his surroundings. Inside and outside the pass, separated by a single barrier, it was like two different worlds, and the impact on one’s spirit was considerable.

“Beyond Yanmen Pass, the wild folk’s home, no silkworms raised, no hemp sown; for a hundred li, no pear or date trees, in spring’s third month, no peach or apricot bloom.”

This was the watershed dividing farming and nomadism—a single mountain range separated two civilizations.

Amid the countless towering peaks within the pass, no poetry had stirred in him; but now, stepping out, the scene of civilizational division brought many lines to mind, even the famous “No barbarian horse shall cross the Yin Mountains,” which he hadn’t thought of before... Now, seeing the grasslands and the military tents, he suddenly realized this was the junction of the Yin Mountains and the Taihang Range—this was exactly where barbarian horses were crossing the Yin Mountains!

Civilizations divided and converged, yet time and space connected here—a fascinating sensation.

This was still a war zone, not where his mission lay. Zhao Changhe made a wide detour and galloped westward.

The Northern Barbarians were a collective term, actually a union of many tribes. Though the Great Khan Temür was called a king, in the eyes of the Central Plains, he was more like an alliance leader. Even his own clan was subdivided into countless tribes—his was the Golden Wolf tribe, while others included War Lion, Black Wolf, and many more. But lately, his own clan had some headaches.

He Lei was the chieftain of the War Lion tribe, and the Black Wolf King, whom Yue Hongling had killed when she ascended the Human Roll, was also a strongman of Temür’s own clan.

Whether this would stir certain thoughts among other tribes was hard to say—after all, Temür was third on the Heaven Roll, and his deterrent power over the grassland tribes was no less than Xia Longyuan’s over the Central Plains forces.

Who was second on the Heaven Roll?

The Great Shaman of Eternal Heaven.

He wasn’t even from the same tribe as Temür, but he didn’t involve himself in tribal disputes, staying in the temple. Whoever unified the grasslands was none of his concern. Yet his dominance over the grasslands might even surpass Temür’s.

But he participated in the Central Plains war... the fox demon Chilie was his direct disciple.

From this perspective, one could say Xia Longyuan alone held the second and third in check. Neither of them appeared personally on the front lines—that was part of some tacit understanding with Xia Longyuan.

Or perhaps it was a silent battle from afar?

For instance, was that lightning bolt related to the Temple of Eternal Heaven? Zhao Changhe felt it was somewhat possible—at least Blind wouldn’t strike lightning for such a slight; the barbarian god, currently at war, had a bit more likelihood.

Anyway, due to the characteristics of the grassland tribes, the allied forces’ camps were often not together, some separated by great distances. This gave Yue Hongling and others opportunities to stir up trouble everywhere, perfect for martial arts experts—that was how the Black Wolf camp had been trampled.

This time, a small squad was heading to a distant tribe’s encampment, mainly for reconnaissance, and if opportunity arose, they might attempt to burn grain stores or similar actions, like army scouts but more commando-style. Dangerous, yes, but they were all martial arts experts, not ordinary soldiers; their main task was reconnaissance, not suicide missions. If trouble came, they could scatter in all directions—it shouldn’t lead to total annihilation with no one escaping.

Cui Yuanyong felt they should at least confirm what had happened, or at least confirm deaths. If they weren’t dead but trapped or captured, rescue must still be attempted.

Zhao Changhe also felt it was necessary. This gallop was filled with a sense of mission.

It was truly far. The Dark Steed ran at full speed for an entire day, and even as night fell, he still saw nothing.

He unfolded the map—useless. He didn’t know his own position; what good was the map?

Just as he was getting a headache, he sensed voices approaching from afar. Zhao Changhe reined in his horse, looked around, spotted a small mound, and galloped over to hide behind it, watching.

Damn it, on this endless plain, finding even a small mound was no easy feat. Luckily, the Dark Steed was intelligent and made no sound.

Under the night sky, a convoy gradually came into view—well-ordered, over a thousand men, seemingly a disciplined army, but the number of escorting vehicles and horses was enormous, suggesting a merchant caravan, though the carts were empty.

Zhao Changhe was somewhat stunned. Most of them looked like Central Plains people... It seemed they had gone to trade with the grasslands and had already unloaded their goods. But why were the empty carts not loaded with other things to bring back?

And trade was still happening in the midst of war?

He recalled Ji Yinan’s shops. Where did the grassland goods come from at a time like this?

If grassland goods could come south, could Central Plains goods go north?

Someone was chatting in standard Central Plains official speech: “At a time like this, afraid of horse bandits? I said it was impossible.”

Another replied: “It’s not horse bandits we fear—what horse bandit would dare approach this area now? What we fear are real armies disguised as horse bandits.”

“They wouldn’t go that far, would they? Playing that game in peacetime is one thing, but now?”

“Hard to say.” Someone sighed. “Do you know who else might play the horse bandit robber?”

“Who else?”

“Of course, Huangfu Yongxian. If he robs you, you can only swallow your teeth and blood. The old bastard wouldn’t dare make an issue of it, but he dares to eat it.”

Zhao Changhe understood.

Damn it, Central Plains merchants were selling grain to the barbarians at a time like this. He’d heard of such things, but he never imagined it would happen during wartime. Impressive.

Huangfu Yongxian, guarding the border for generations, probably knew it too but had many considerations and couldn’t easily act against them. Robbing them outright was one way.

The conversation continued:

“Recently, there’s something even more disgusting. Have you heard of a one-man horse bandit?”

“Huh? What’s a one-man horse bandit? How can one person rob anything?”

“When her name is Yue Hongling, it’s possible.”

Zhao Changhe: “...”

“So you have to have a large group. If the group is too small, being robbed by Yue Hongling alone has happened several times.”

“I see...” The man shrank his neck. “She’s not nearby now, is she?”

“This time we have many men, so of course she wouldn’t dare. She might be waiting on the road to Huangsha Ji—someone was hit by her on that route before, causing panic.” The previous speaker gritted his teeth. “When I get back and report to the family head, we’ll find a way to take revenge on that bitch. She still lives in the Central Plains, after all—the monk can’t run away from the temple. Offending us won’t be so easily forgiven!”

Someone laughed: “This time we have over a thousand men. Let her come if she dares—we’ll strip her bare and have some fun with her.”

Then came a stream of filthy talk.

Zhao Changhe frowned and pondered for a moment, then suddenly understood something. He looked up at the sky.

The Big Dipper pointed... this convoy was heading north.

He sorted things out in his mind and roughly understood the situation... These people had likely sold grain and weapons to the tribe he had originally intended to visit, but he had drifted north. After unloading, they were heading further north with empty carts to Huangsha Ji to stock up.

Zhao Changhe hesitated for a moment.

Should he go south to that tribe to investigate, or north to Huangsha Ji?