Chapter Thirty-Four: The Whereabouts of Li Erjiang

"The greatest joy for a man is to defeat his enemies, to drive them before him, to take from them all they possess, to see those they love in tears, to ride their horses, and to hold their wives and daughters in his arms."

These were the words of Temujin in the annals of history. War has always been brutal, especially in environments like the Western Regions and the Mongolian grasslands. Without the constraints of morality or rules, the "evil" within human nature is unleashed to its fullest extent.

In the traditions of ancient nomadic tribes, the distribution of war spoils included people, livestock, and wealth. Possessing the wives and daughters of the enemy was seen as a symbol of total conquest, while also serving the pragmatic needs of tribal propagation. Since population was a vital resource for nomadic peoples, women were essential for bearing offspring and continuing the lineage of the tribe. Therefore, in an era defined by frequent tribal conflicts and the supremacy of force, this concept was widespread—a stark manifestation of the culture of steppe warfare. Both nomads and the Han people followed these unwritten rules.

***

Soon after, the camp was filled with a cacophony of screams, wails, and cheers. During the battle, the coalition of the four fortresses had been a pack of wolves, capable of crushing any opponent who dared to resist, but after the battle, they were beasts—frenzied beasts.

Li Xiao rode through the camp, and as he listened to the agonizing screams of the Karluk women echoing from the tents, his heart felt a slight pang of reluctance. Yet, there was no alternative; the price of defeat was always this cruel. If anyone were to be blamed, it could only be the Karluk men who lacked the strength to protect their own women. Li Xiao could not stop it, nor would he.

"What a barbaric era," Li Xiao murmured, shaking his head at the cries.

First, one must understand a fundamental truth: the soldiers of this era did not fight for some noble concept of "nation and country." They were not the soldiers of eight hundred years later, fighting for ideals and beliefs; they were merely common herdsmen fighting for survival and profit. Their motivations were clear: to protect themselves and their kin from violation, while plundering the enemy’s cattle, wealth, and women. To seize everything the enemy possessed—that was how they ensured a better life for their families and a more comfortable existence for themselves. This was the inexhaustible engine behind their formidable combat prowess. Furthermore, they needed to vent their pent-up stress and soothe the psychological trauma brought on by the intensity of the fight.

Thus, in this moment, every soldier from the four fortresses had gone mad. They rushed toward the Karluk women, wantonly venting their suppressed emotions. The women wept, wailed, and struggled, but their resistance only stirred the northern men to greater interest and excitement. The cries and screams of these women served as the ultimate stimulant; after surviving a life-or-death struggle, nothing could compare to such a reward.

Faced with this post-battle madness—or "reward," as they saw it—Li Xiao could not intervene. Doing so would harm the interests of the majority. While the men of Hexi Fortress would obey his commands, deep down, they would harbor resentment. Li Xiao’s authority was not yet firmly established, and he would not risk his foundation on such a matter. As for the soldiers from the other three fortresses, he was even more powerless.

"War has always been this cruel; that is why I cannot afford to fail," Li Xiao whispered in a cold, indifferent voice, gripping his horse-spear as he looked up at the pitch-black, starry sky.

He closed his eyes, letting the fine rain fall upon his face, feeling the baptism of nature. It helped his mind grow calm, forcing him to consider the path he must take. The Han people of the Northern Frontier were individually fierce, and the coalition of the four fortresses was highly effective in battle. But to Li Xiao, these factors did not constitute a truly powerful army.

"A new army," he whispered, suddenly opening his eyes. "I must build a real army, not a rabble of herdsmen without discipline who run wild."

***

What are the core elements of a truly powerful, invincible army? Cohesion. The singularity of command. Absolute obedience. Only then do individual combat prowess and other factors follow.

Although Li Xiao was already the Lord of Hexi Fortress, achieving the kind of absolute authority held by the old generation would require a long time. Even the adults of Li Dashan’s generation sometimes viewed Li Xiao as a mere youth, let alone the elders. While Li Xiao had established some prestige through his own feats, allowing him to command the people of Hexi, his authority would be severely tested the moment his decisions clashed with their interests.

But Li Xiao’s ambitions were vast; his eyes were fixed on the world. Though he viewed the Han people of the Northern Frontier as his base, he knew they had to be transformed—reformed. The many fortresses of the north were like scattered sand. The coalition of the four fortresses looked like a solid block, but in reality, it was built upon marriages and the personal prestige of the fortress lords. Such an alliance was fragile.

The alliance of these Han fortresses was identical to the tribal models of the nomads. A leader could only control everyone by commanding the tribal heads, and everything was predicated on the interests of the individual fortress. Once those interests were threatened, the alliance would dissolve. Thus, even if a regime were built on such a tribal alliance, division would only be a matter of time.

"Power must be centralized," Li Xiao muttered to himself. To achieve this, he needed a new army that obeyed him and him alone. This army could not be built upon the framework of clans and fortresses; it had to be based on meritocracy, where personal ability was the sole standard for promotion. Most importantly, there could only be one voice.

***

In the camp, the cries of the Karluk women rose and fell, but Li Xiao rode further away. Just then, Dahu and Erhu approached him.

"Brother!" they called out, spurring their horses toward him. As they drew closer, Li Xiao noticed that Dahu was dragging a rope behind his horse. At the end of the rope was a man, stumbling along in a disheveled and wretched state.

"Everyone else is celebrating; why aren't you two joining them?" Li Xiao asked. The three young bachelors were indeed an anomaly in the midst of such rowdy festivities.

"I... I don't dare," Dahu said, blushing slightly and looking embarrassed. He was an honest boy, clearly afraid of being scolded by his mother if he returned home having participated.

Erhu was bolder. He grinned and said, "I wanted to go join the fun, but Dahu dragged me off to find someone." Erhu was thicker-skinned; he wouldn't have minded his mother's scolding, but his plans had been thwarted by Dahu.

Seeing their contrasting expressions, Li Xiao shook his head and smiled. "We are martial artists; it is not good to lose one's virginity too early. Wait until you are sixteen." While people in this era often married early, Li Xiao knew that such habits took a toll on the body. Perhaps the short lifespans of the ancients, aside from their diet, were linked to this. Of course, the main reason was that Li Xiao didn't want to settle for these Karluk women; he was too proud for that.

"Who is he?" Li Xiao asked, looking at the man tied to the rope. He was filthy and disheveled, but his attire suggested he was a Han.

At the mention of the man, Dahu’s expression turned intense. "Brother, I’ve found out where my father is!"

Li Xiao was surprised. His father and second uncle had gone to the North Mountain and never returned. While he suspected they were alive, he had no news. Dahu had never given up, and while others were off at the camp, he and Erhu had searched the prisoners' camp.

"Dahu, don't get excited. Tell me slowly," Li Xiao comforted him.

According to Dahu, the man was Wu Dayong, from the former Hezhai. After the Battle of North Mountain, he had defected to the Karluks and become a turncoat. He had even infiltrated Sanhe Fortress, launching a surprise attack that helped the Karluks capture it. Such a man deserved to die. After the battle, he was recognized by the survivors of Sanhe, and if Dahu and Erhu hadn't arrived in time, the women who had lost their husbands and children would have torn him to pieces.

"No wonder he's covered in scratches," Li Xiao said, his gaze indifferent. Dying like that would have been too easy for him.

Feeling Li Xiao’s icy stare, Wu Dayong trembled violently and collapsed to his knees. "Spare me! Spare me! I was wrong. I’m scum. I shouldn't have surrendered to the Karluks! But I had no choice... they threatened my son's life!" Wu Dayong wept, wailing in agony.

Hezhai had few people; they couldn't meet the Khitan recruitment quotas, so they had to send their youth. Wu Dayong and his son had both been captured. He might have been a good father, but no one would forgive his actions.

"Tell me, where is my second uncle?" Li Xiao asked coldly, having already sentenced the man to death in his own mind.

"Houzhai! Li Erjiang is in Houzhai!" Wu Dayong blurted out, desperate to confess. He had previously tried to use this information to bargain, but after Dahu and Erhu had beaten his son in front of him, he had become perfectly obedient, spilling everything he knew.