Chapter Seventeen: Astonishing Spoils of War—Nineteen Severed Heads

After more than half an hour, everyone at Hexibao finally cleaned up the battlefield. Li Xiao and Li Dashan hurried over to report to the old master:

“Great uncle, we have gathered a total of one hundred and fifty-three horses—one hundred and twenty-six are intact, and twenty-one are injured but still able to move!”

“Additionally, there are over one hundred thirty spearheads, eighty-four curved swords, ninety-two longbows, and more than eight hundred arrows!”

“There isn’t much in gold, silver, or copper coins—about seventeen or eighteen strings of cash.”

“And some individual daggers, bone-tipped weapons, axes, and so forth!”

This battle was quite a haul for Hexibao, not only seizing spoils from the Gelulu people but also capturing the weapons and warhorses of the fallen Khitan warriors.

Among these spoils, the most valuable besides the horses were the more than ninety longbows.

For nomads on the grasslands, bows and arrows were essential, yet not everyone was qualified or capable of wielding them.

Many lower-class herders could only manage a spear as their weapon.

This was mainly because crafting a quality longbow was complicated, requiring well-aged birch wood, ox horn, sinew, and other materials, and only experienced craftsmen could produce them.

Thus, every longbow in a nomadic household was considered a family treasure.

The key reason they captured so many longbows this time was that both the fleeing Khitans and the pursuing Gelulu were elite warriors of their tribes, carrying superior weapons with a higher proportion of bows.

But in the end, all this was a boon for Hexibao.

“Bring the intact horses back, and slaughter the injured and dead ones to make jerky!”

“We’ll divide the weapons and coins according to the number of enemies each person killed,” the old master said gravely, seated on a rock.

Distributing spoils based on merit was the established rule at Hexibao, never questioned.

However, Li Xiao had some thoughts about the horses.

“Grandfather, I suggest that whether it’s the horses we captured this time or the original horses of Hexibao, we should manage them properly from now on.”

Both the old master and Li Dashan looked puzzled.

Li Xiao explained, “Since the Han dynasty, the Central Plains dynasties have had equestrian policies—studying how to breed and raise horses well.”

“We should also pay attention.”

“Separate the stallions and mares, and don’t let them mate freely.”

“Select the tallest, strongest, and most resilient stallions, those less prone to illness, to mate exclusively with the mares.”

“This way, the offspring will be stronger and healthier.”

“When the foals grow up, breed them in the same manner, and over time, Hexibao’s warhorses will become increasingly powerful.”

In this era, most nomadic peoples lacked the awareness to breed superior horse breeds; stallions and mares mated freely.

As long as foals were born, it was enough—good horses fought, inferior horses worked. Plain and simple.

The reason was that the steppe had no shortage of horses.

With massive reproduction, some good horses would inevitably emerge.

Yet, this laissez-faire breeding only muddled the gene pool, gradually degrading the quality of the horse population.

Li Xiao had noticed this issue before, so he took this opportunity to share his ideas with the old master.

Hearing Li Xiao’s explanation, the old master and Li Dashan understood—it was about selecting fixed stallions for breeding.

“What about the other stallions?” Li Dashan clicked his tongue.

“What else? Keep them or geld them, but don’t let them breed with the mares,” Li Xiao shrugged.

Survival of the fittest was a natural law.

Just like humans, handsome, wealthy, and powerful men represented high-quality males with priority, even universal, mating rights.

Tall and strong horses similarly had more chances to pass on their genes.

“All right, I feel sorry for those poor fellows!” Li Dashan shook his head.

He pitied those not chosen as breeding stallions.

Living at the bottom of the herd, toiling all their lives, exploited by their masters, even sent directly to the battlefield as cannon fodder.

In the end, they didn’t even have the right to reproduce; not even a touch of a mare was allowed.

And to keep them focused on work, they might even be gelded!

In contrast, those strong and sturdy horses might never do a day of work but were pampered with resources earned by the labor of inferior horses.

They could freely choose among the mares—true winners among horses!

“That’s the way of the world. Only the strong survive and do as they please!”

“The weak don’t even have the right to speak,” Li Xiao said, bluntly revealing the harsh truth of life.

Li Dashan shook his head; though it felt cruel, his twenty-plus years of life experience told him Li Xiao was right.

The old master nodded gently, his eyes filled with admiration for his eldest grandson, surprised by how deeply he understood life and the world at such a young age.

“Very well, Da Long, we’ll do as you say!”

“Grandfather is old now. From now on, Hexibao is in your hands,” the old master chuckled.

Previously, he had thought his grandson too young and in need of time to mature.

But now, Li Xiao’s growth had far exceeded his expectations.

He could rest easy.

“Let’s go—return to the village!”

The old master called loudly toward the villagers in the distance, swung into his saddle, and slowly headed back toward Hexibao.

Standing in place, Li Dashan smiled softly, understanding the old master’s intent.

He patted Li Xiao’s shoulder.

“Da Long, we entrust Hexibao to you—we trust you!”

“But remember, never be impulsive!”

“You’re still young; we have plenty of time ahead.”

With that, Li Dashan swiftly mounted his horse and galloped after the main force.

Li Xiao looked at the many villagers ahead—old, young, and able-bodied less than half.

His heart bore no joy but a heavy burden.

He sighed softly, “Responsibility...”

…

Back at Hexibao, the people didn’t return home immediately but gathered at the village entrance for a meeting.

“Chen Erqiang, three enemies killed, awarded four warhorses, three curved swords, three longbows, two sets of leather armor, one pair of bone-tipped weapons, six hundred copper coins!”

“Liu Dabala, two enemies killed, awarded three warhorses, two curved swords, two longbows, one set of leather armor, one dagger, four hundred copper coins!”

“Wang Maizi, two enemies killed…”

On the village square, Li Dashan stood atop a large stone, holding a rolled scroll of grass paper, loudly reading out the names and merits.

This was both a commendation ceremony and a distribution of spoils.

Each person’s achievements were publicly announced, and the loot divided transparently to ensure fairness and prevent grievances.

The early names Li Dashan read, including his own, mostly had two or three kills.

These were the first eighteen men who encountered the Gelulu.

Having fought twice and each killing two or three Gelulu warriors was normal.

After that, the results were more modest.

During the pursuit, those with outstanding archery skills might have one or two kills.

But when it came to the actual encirclement and killing of the Gelulu, it usually took two or three men working together to fell one enemy.

There was no choice—too few Gelulu to go around.

Thus, the spoils had to be shared among several people.

As for how to divide one horse or one sword, they had to negotiate themselves.

Of course, there were exceptions.

When Li Dashan called out one name, the villagers instantly fell silent.

“Uncle Liu, three enemies killed, awarded four warhorses, three curved swords, three longbows, two sets of leather armor, one pair of bone-tipped weapons, six hundred copper coins!”

At these words, heavy expressions appeared on everyone’s faces, their gazes involuntarily turning toward a distant courtyard.

Faintly, the cries of children and women could be heard from within.

Uncle Liu was the only person from Hexibao to die in this battle.

Though he arrived later alongside the old master, Old Liu had fought with a life-for-life desperation to avenge his son.

Killing three Gelulu warriors, he had earned back the cost for himself and his son.

Now, only a few orphans and widows remained of the Liu family, and the villagers would certainly help them as much as possible.

After reading all the names, including the old master and Li Dashan, at last, Li Xiao’s name appeared.

“Li Dalong, nineteen enemies killed…”

The announcement fell into a heavy silence.

Everyone instinctively widened their eyes.

Shock and awe painted their faces as a cold breath was drawn in.

A wave of stunned emotion filled every soul at Hexibao.

After the silence came a low murmur, like millions of mosquitoes buzzing chaotically.

The villagers shared their astonishment with one another.

“Nineteen? Dalong actually killed nineteen Gelulu?”

“I knew Dalong killed quite a few, but not this many!”

“Nineteen cavalrymen—he could wipe out an infantry company of a hundred men.”

“This is Dalong’s first time on the battlefield, right?”

“When our fathers marched west, two kills were enough to get a promotion; Dalong managed nineteen?”

“I’ve lived this long, and I’ve never seen, even among veterans, anyone kill nineteen in a single battle.”

…

At that moment, Hexibao erupted in awe, all shaken by Li Xiao’s astounding achievement.

They all knew these Gelulu were slain in front of others, with no exaggeration or false claim.

Li Xiao had truly killed nineteen Gelulu warriors!

Without exception, all eyes turned to the young man standing in the center.

Adoration, reverence, excitement… filled the air.