Chapter Five: Truce

The more Da Luobi looked at Shaoyuan, the more delighted he became, and the more he felt that this son most resembled himself.

“Shaoyuan, though you are unmatched in courage and fearless before many enemies on the battlefield, being a Luobi is not just about martial prowess. In commanding one hundred thousand troops, it is impossible to personally oversee everything. You must learn the art of leadership, the skill of deployment, and the wisdom of employing the right people. Only then can a mighty force of a hundred thousand realize its full potential and overcome the enemy. If all your soldiers are dead and you alone survive, what use is that? Can one man occupy a city? Can a single person force tens of thousands within its walls to submit? I know you dislike reading treatises on command, so from now on, you will follow me daily. I will teach you how to lead, how to employ your men. Though I am not learned, I, too, have led a million soldiers. If you apply yourself, you will surely become a great Luobi.”

“I will do as you say, Father. Mother always taught me that when I grow up, I must serve my father, obey his every word, and never defy him. If Father is in danger, I must risk my life to protect him; whatever Father teaches, I must remember and carry out.”

“Good, good, she taught you well!” Da Luobi’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he regretted having treated that homely woman so poorly in the past. People say that an unattractive appearance may hide a most beautiful heart. Only now did he fully understand. Despite all that mother and son had endured, she harbored no resentment, and all she taught Shaoyuan was how to be a good son.

“Father, you are crying.”

Everyone else in the tent bowed their heads, pretending not to notice.

Da Luobi laughed through his tears, “I am thinking of your mother. She was a remarkable woman, and I was fortunate to have such a good wife, who bore me such a fine son. Her memory moves me to tears. I do not fear the world’s ridicule—let them laugh! I am crying!”

“Da Luobi’s loyalty and affection move us profoundly!” The crowd in the tent called out, wiping their own eyes in feigned emotion.

Shaoyuan’s brothers, who were usually favored, now found themselves relegated to the background.

From that day on, jokes about Shaoyuan’s looks circulated within the Black Wolf Tribe, but only in private. “Shaoyuan is ugly? How could he be, when he so resembles Da Luobi?” Yet the tribe revered martial power above all, and Shaoyuan’s valor inspired awe and respect throughout. None dared call him dull-witted anymore. In short order, he became Da Luobi’s most cherished son, rising overnight. Two renowned and noble women from the tribe were wed to him, arousing envy in countless hearts.

Meanwhile, far to the northeast by the great river, Beiyin City had been completely transformed. The Twilight Tribe had moved in, and every settlement within a three hundred thousand square kilometer radius knew of it. On the day of their migration, more than a hundred tribes arrived with gifts to offer congratulations. In just a year, the Twilight Tribe had become a regional power, controlling sixty subordinate Luobis and having destroyed more than twenty other tribes.

The name “Zuo’an, the Enemy of Ten Thousand,” spread ever further. Within the Black Wolf Tribe, few doubted his reputation, for his feats spoke for themselves: three thousand foes slain by his hand alone on the Luoma Plain; seven thousand more on the mountain plains likewise defeated single-handedly. There were countless other tales of him annihilating forces one or two thousand strong. Adding these numbers together, the Black Wolf Tribe believed he had earned his title as the Enemy of Ten Thousand.

At this time, the world remained embroiled in chaos. Chu could not seize Chen, and the Black Wolf Army, worn out by prolonged warfare, found its coffers running dry. Wei could not overcome the border strongholds guarded by Zheng’s Left Commandant. Yan split its forces in two, but could conquer neither Zheng’s cities nor break through Chu’s defenses. Han, already economically weakened, was nearly spent within a year, left only struggling to defend itself and hoping not to be overrun by Zheng. Zheng, stretched thin on all fronts, could not spare troops to attack Han.

Amid this stalemate, news came from Zhou: the Emperor had died, and a new sovereign had ascended the throne. All the states seethed in secret, cursing Zheng’s incompetence for letting the descendants of the Moon Tribe into the imperial palace!

The newly crowned Son of Heaven issued a decree, ordering all states to cease hostilities and turn to peaceful development. The states, already weary from the deadlock, were eager for respite. The Black Wolf Army could neither advance nor retreat. Zheng, proud and stubborn, suffered under the strain but refused to propose peace. Wei and Yan were long tired of war; Qi wanted to recall its reinforcements; Chen wished fervently for Chu to withdraw.

Chu, having seized several major cities in Chen, saw that even with Qi’s reinforcements, there was little more to gain and had no wish to continue the standoff. The Seven Powers, with unspoken agreement, seized upon the imperial decree as a pretext for truce. In this way, none lost face; all claimed they stopped fighting only because of the Son of Heaven’s command.

The Black Wolf Army’s allies withdrew, and there was nothing left but to retreat as well. The matter ended thus, leading many ignorant souls to believe the new Son of Heaven retained such authority that, at his word, the Seven Powers obeyed. This led many to travel great distances to Zhou, eager to serve the new ruler.

After the truce, all states busied themselves with recovery, except for the Black Wolf Tribe, which faced both internal and external woes. The tribe had been the main proponent of war, promising many rewards to convince the other tribes to contribute men and resources, each expecting gains tenfold greater from conquering Zheng. Now, after more than a year of fighting, every tribe was impoverished and had lost many men; instead of rewards, they had suffered losses. One after another, they came to Da Luobi to complain, each hoping for compensation.

Yet the Black Wolf Tribe had borne the greatest losses and could not possibly compensate the others. Repeated negotiations proved fruitless, and many major tribes left in anger. Though they dared not outright deny Da Luobi's authority, for the time being, they ignored the Black Wolf Tribe. Da Luobi, aware of their grievances, was forced to turn a blind eye to internecine conflict and war, which he had previously forbidden.

Unable to recover their losses, the tribes could only plunder others to make up the deficit. If Da Luobi tried to intervene, he would be courting disaster—those tribes would unite against him, plundering the Black Wolf Tribe instead. Though strong, they could not withstand the combined might of all. He had no choice but to let the others have their way.

In Beiyin City, upon hearing of the imperial decree, Bu Jingxian immediately ordered preparations for war. He had long foreseen the war would eventually subside, for all states needed an excuse to end the conflict. Even if only one state swallowed its pride and proposed peace, the rest would accept. Yet no great power wished to admit defeat unless absolutely forced. The Son of Heaven’s ascension and decree gave them all an honorable exit.

Once hostilities ceased, the Black Wolf Tribe would inevitably descend into chaos, with every tribe ravaged by war turning to plunder to recoup their losses, and the Black Wolf Tribe powerless to restrain them.

The truce was only temporary. Zheng, eager to erase its humiliation, would soon strike at Han, Wei, and Yan. Chen, desperate to recover lost territory, would expand its army. Da Luobi, needing to restore his prestige, would also seek war. Yan and Chu, having become bitter enemies, would not rest; Chu, knowing Chen would not relent, would not let matters drop either. Wei, fearing retribution from Zheng, would not dare relax its border defenses, which in turn would provoke Zheng’s suspicion, and the enmity born of war would not fade soon.

The Black Wolf Tribe controlled two million square kilometers—a time that called for heroes. Without this war, Bu Jingxian dared not act too boldly, for that would have united the major tribes against him. But because of the war, the truce, and the resulting chaos, the great tribes were all preoccupied with hunting weaker prey and paid no attention to each other.

The moment he had been waiting for had come: with the truce, it was time to expand his territory and devour the smaller tribes.