Chapter Fifty-Four: Fierce Beasts

Following Quan Dou-nan’s suggestion, Lu Hu ordered Yakeshi to bring men and move the tiger-skin throne into the Eagle Pavilion.

Lu Hu seated himself regally upon the tiger-skin throne. The sisters Quan Zhenzhu and Quan Meiyu, both clad in flowing white, stood at his sides like ethereal beings descended from the heavens.

Quan Meiyu held Huahua in her arms; Quan Zhenzhu cradled Xiaobai. The White-headed Eagle King and the Eagle Queen, each with a child, stood respectfully beside the two sisters.

Before the sisters, Bai Dabai and Lingding Xiaowu lay prostrate, their forms accentuating the dazzling assemblage of humans and animals.

Dozens of soldiers from Changli, armed with blades and swords, stood guard around them.

Incense burned thick behind the tiger throne, and even the shadowed corners of the pavilion were suffused with fragrant smoke. Wisps ascended, filling the tent with an otherworldly atmosphere.

Lu Hu waited until the scene was fully set.

Only then did he send Yakeshi to lead the soldiers in escorting a dozen shaman warriors into the pavilion.

Driven in by fierce soldiers, the shamans were kicked and shoved. Surrounded by glinting swords, they were terrified, their hearts pounding wildly.

In the center of the tent, smoke drifted and swirled, veiling the forms of eagle and tiger—wild beasts poised in their majesty.

Dimly, they glimpsed handsome men and exquisite women, radiant as immortals, and their senses reeled.

“Do you recognize the immortals?” Quan Meiyu’s gentle lips parted, her voice clear and melodious, precise and beautifully pitched.

“Yes, yes, it’s the divine lord—he’s descended to earth! Long live the divine lord!” The shaman warriors scrambled to their knees, knocking their heads to the ground in reverence.

“You followed the wicked Tongtian Shaman, aiding him in his villainy and deceiving the people. Do you acknowledge your guilt?” Quan Meiyu suppressed her laughter, keeping her expression stern to intimidate them.

“We know, we know—we too suffered under that demon’s deception! Immortal, please spare us!”

“Are you willing to serve the immortals?”

“Of course! To serve the immortals is a blessing we have earned over eight lifetimes!”

Seeing their fear had reached its peak, Lu Hu drew up his voice, resounding across the tent: “Go to your respective tribes and spread the majesty of the gods and their decree. Ashina Mowen is about to be abandoned by the Eternal Sky. They must quickly pledge allegiance to the Lord of Changli and King Shizhenxiang.”

His voice, clear and resonant, reverberated through the pavilion.

“We obey the decree of the gods. We will proclaim this message at once,” the shamans promised.

“Act separately. Any warrior who can fight should come quickly. The gods will not hold their past crimes against them if they abandon the wicked. Tell them: anyone who recruits ten to join will become a leader of ten; anyone who recruits a hundred will become a leader of a hundred, and so forth.”

After laying the bait, Lu Hu offered them even greater promises: “The divine army under my command is vast. This is your chance to redeem yourselves. Anyone who brings people and whose name is mentioned will be rewarded. Whoever recruits the most will become the new Tongtian Shaman.”

Such fortune seemed too good to be true.

The shamans had always followed the Tongtian Shaman, envying his privileges—luxuries they had never dared to dream of.

Now opportunity beckoned, the future boundless.

“Divine lord, just watch us!”

“Divine lord, send us out quickly! We can’t wait!”

Eager to earn merit, the shamans yearned to rush off and spread the word.

“Yakeshi, take them to the stables and give each a swift horse. Go forth and spread the doctrine!” Lu Hu, putting on airs, finished his command. Even before he finished speaking, the shamans leapt up like sprinters hearing the starter’s pistol.

The quickest dashed to the tent’s entrance, flung aside the curtain, and rushed out, asking directions as they sprinted toward the stables.

The slower ones crowded at the doorway, tugging and shoving, kicking and fighting until they sorted themselves out.

The slowest still wandered the tent, panicked like headless flies, searching desperately for an exit.

Once all the shamans had departed, Lu Hu breathed a sigh of relief—putting on such a show was exhausting.

“Meiyu, Zhenzhu, return to your tent, change into armor—we’re heading out for a hunt,” he said.

He turned to the Changli soldiers, “Rest a while, then move the tiger-skin throne back to my tent and tidy up here.”

After arranging everything, he continued, “White-headed Eagle King, bring your family and join us for the hunt!”

Before the Eagle King could answer, Yingqilai and Yingbangbang flapped their wings and screeched, excited to join Quan Zhenzhu—who herself had already dashed out to change into armor.

A hundred Changli guards stood ready in formation.

Yakeshi, having dispatched the shamans, brought over several fine horses.

Now Lu Hu’s personal guard captain, Yakeshi commanded three hundred elite Changli soldiers, responsible for protecting Lu Hu and Quan Dou-nan’s family.

Of Changli’s more than a thousand warriors, three hundred elites were chosen as guards; the rest remained at the base.

The Changli tribe, numbering over ten thousand, was busy packing, preparing to follow Lu Hu in raiding the Xilote stronghold.

This course had been decided after discussions between Quan Dou-nan and his wife and Lu Hu...

With the blessing of the gods, they needed to secure a good territory on the steppe and grow strong...

Lu Hu did not wish for Shizhenxiang’s family to dominate alone—walking on two legs was always steadier than one...

After Changli’s restoration, who knew what the Emperor of Dasheng would think, or how the ministers and people of Dasheng would regard him.

Centuries ago, when Dasheng was newly founded, it had launched several exhausting campaigns to conquer Changli, costing tens of thousands of soldiers.

Though Changli was vanquished, the nation still regarded it with deep wariness.

Perhaps, after restoration, it would be best to change the name?

In the end, nations and people alike are much the same—there are no eternal friends, nor eternal enemies.

For the sake of conflicting interests, they may fight bloody battles; when interests align, they become so close as to share a bed...

As Lu Hu pondered, his eyes suddenly brightened: Quan Zhenzhu and Quan Meiyu had donned vibrant red armor, bows and quivers slung behind them.

At a glance, they looked heroic; upon closer inspection, graceful.

Like two dazzling blossoms, they drew every gaze.

“Each of you choose a fine horse. We depart now,” Lu Hu instructed the sisters, gesturing to the horses Yakeshi led.

Quan Meiyu chose a tall, spirited chestnut steed—muscular, with large hooves and long mane, clearly a fiery mount.

Quan Zhenzhu picked a beautiful white horse.

Lu Hu selected the strongest black horse, sleek and muscular, pawing impatiently, ready to burst forth.

“Mount up, let’s go,” Lu Hu commanded, vaulting onto his black horse.

Quan Meiyu took the reins of her chestnut, placed her left foot in the stirrup, and swung herself onto the horse with practiced flair.

But Quan Zhenzhu did not mount; holding Xiaobai in her arms, she gazed at Lu Hu with luminous eyes.

Before departing, Quan Meiyu had left Huahua in the tent with her parents; Quan Zhenzhu, however, refused to let go of Xiaobai.

“Brother, I told you—I’ll never leave Xiaobai behind again. See, how can I mount with him in my arms?” Quan Zhenzhu’s voice mingled complaint and affection, her expression gentle and plaintive.