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Huchuquan sat on horseback, lightly tapping the palm of his hand with his riding crop. On the surface, he appeared utterly indifferent, but inwardly, he could not help feeling somewhat astonished.
These Han people—it seemed as if they changed in the blink of an eye every few days. Such a rate of progress even surprised Huchuquan.
The greatest difference between cavalry and infantry lay in the necessity of controlling one's horse as though it were an extension of one's own two legs—able to speed up when speed was needed, slow down when slowing down was required, and, with effective changes in direction and pace, finally integrate seamlessly into a cohesive fighting unit. Previously, there had been a certain stiffness and friction, but now it was gradually becoming smoother and more fluid. The cross-coordination between squads, even the blowing of the ox-horn trumpets originally exclusive to the Hu people, was now being performed with considerable proficiency.
This, this right here, was what irritated him most about the Han! And yet he could do nothing about it. He could hardly order these Han to keep their distance, nor forbid them from learning the Hu methods. After all, the two sides were currently in a state of alliance.
Huchuquan flicked his riding crop through the air a few times, using the motion to dispel the frustration in his heart, much like swatting away persistently buzzing flies that refused to leave.
Ma Yue, for his part, paid not the slightest attention to Huchuquan behind him. This joint operation to sweep through and incorporate the surrounding Hu tribes, strictly speaking, had actually given the Southern Xiongnu the greater share of advantages. Any tribe belonging to the Xiongnu lineage, for the most part, surrendered and merged after only a few words were exchanged. The people of those scattered Xiongnu splinter tribes even received the situation with joy and celebration.
However, when they encountered Wuhuan and Xianbei tribes, things did not go nearly as smoothly. The Hu were fierce and often prided themselves on their martial valor. Whether it was Huchuquan, with his Southern Xiongnu identity, or Ma Yue, with his Han identity, launching the assault, there was practically never a time when blades and spears were not drawn. Only after some had died and blood had been spilled did the survivors become slightly more docile.
It was exactly like the Xianbei tribe before them now. Ma Yue could guarantee that there would be some reckless, blind fools among them. Had Fei Qian not previously stated that Pingyang's development lacked manpower, Ma Yue would truly have liked to ignore all reasoning—whether three times seven was twenty-something—and simply topple every single tribe he came across and be done with it.
The Xianbei were a people who had grown powerful by feeding upon the corpses of the Xiongnu. Originally, the earliest Xianbei tribes originated in the region of the Greater Khingan Mountains, where the Wuhuan also dwelled, though the Xianbei lived further north. Both belonged to the Eastern Yi branch of peoples.
The Xianbei who survived in those remote, deeply forested mountains were fierce and valiant. Having long struggled against nature's harsh climate, those who managed to survive were mostly individuals of robust strength and physique.
Later, after the Xiongnu were battered into a shapeless wreck by the Han dynasty and split into two halves, the Southern Xiongnu surrendered while the Northern Xiongnu continued to resist stubbornly. The Xianbei and the Wuhuan put their heads together and decided that cooperating with the Han court could be profitable. They heeded the summons of the Han Emperor and, together with the Han army and the Southern Xiongnu, bullied the Northern Xiongnu in every manner imaginable. It was during this very process that the Xianbei gradually encroached upon the territories that had originally belonged to the Northern Xiongnu—the region north of the Gobi Desert—and also seized the opportunity to swallow up a large portion of the Northern Xiongnu's population, thereby growing powerful and prosperous.
The original language of the Xianbei had already been influenced by the Xiongnu, so while there were slight phonetic differences, it still essentially belonged to the Hu tongue of the Xiongnu.
At this point in time, the great and ambitious Xianbei king Tanshihuai had already died. Before his death, however, he had unified all the Xianbei tribes and established a grand military tribal confederation across the vast northern territories, divided into eastern, central, and western sections. He had invaded and harassed the frontiers of Bing, Ji, and You provinces several times. It could be said that the Xianbei had now replaced the Xiongnu as the Han dynasty's greatest new threat.
The Eastern Xianbei controlled the region from Youbeiping to Liaodong. From Youbeiping up to Shanggu was the territory of the Central Xianbei, and from Shanggu stretching westward all the way to Dunhuang was the Western Xianbei. This area of Bingzhou originally fell under Tanshihuai's Central Xianbei.
The widely celebrated Murong clan, at this time, ruled as kings among the Eastern Xianbei, alongside the Duan and Tuoba clans also present in the east. The Western Xianbei, meanwhile, were located in the Hexi and Longxi regions, where the Tufa Xianbei were the most powerful and the rest were relatively minor tribes.
Yet no matter how great a figure may be, capable of seemingly controlling everything under heaven, they often fail to control their own offspring. After Tanshihuai died, his son Helian was greedy and lecherous and was shot to death during a plundering raid against the Han. However, Helian's son Qianman was still young, so Qianman's paternal cousin—the son of Helian's elder brother—named Putou, took over as ruler. Later, when Qianman grew up, he fought Putou for control of the realm, but in the end, neither gained any advantage; instead, their followers scattered. Subsequently, Putou's younger brother Budugen became the chieftain of this region.
The small tribe that Ma Yue now encountered belonged precisely to the Central Xianbei.
These Xianbei all stood as if frozen in utter stupidity, acting as though they could not understand a single word of the Hu language. Then suddenly, from among the tents in the tribal encampment, a whistling arrow shot out. Catching them completely off guard, it struck a cavalryman square in the face, and he toppled backward off his horse instantly.
The whistling arrow acted like a signal. Those Xianbei who had been standing dumbly moments before now scattered like cockroaches suddenly exposed to light. Some grabbed horses, others raised blades, still others bent bows, all launching a sudden rebellion without the slightest regard for the swords and spears of Ma Yue's cavalry right upon them.
Huchuquan's eyes widened. He shook his felt-capped head a couple of times and secretly allowed himself a small smile, but the grin quickly froze on his face and then vanished entirely.
Ma Yue's cavalrymen were basically all equipped with double-faced lamellar armor. As long as they were not struck directly in the face, throat, or other vital areas, they essentially had nothing to fear from the scattered and hastily launched arrows of the Xianbei. Thus, although there was a trace of initial confusion, under the leadership of squad commanders and other officers, order was swiftly restored, and methodical counterattacks and suppression began.
Hu fighters who failed to mount their horses in time and lacked any armor were doomed to a futile resistance that was quickly crushed. All who refused to kneel had their heads hacked off, their blood staining the entire expanse of grassland red.
"Here we go again," Ma Yue muttered to himself, his face expressionless. Seeing that the situation was now settled, he slowly urged his horse forward. There was no helping it. The relationship between the Xianbei and the Han had been extremely hostile ever since Tanshihuai began raiding the borders. They had clashed with Han armies many times and had even proactively attacked forces sent out by the Han court. It was therefore entirely within reason that the Xianbei, upon seeing Han troops, would refuse to cooperate.
Ma Yue arrived before the assembled prisoners. Looking at the group of surviving Xianbei bound and forced to their knees, he gestured for an old company commander to approach. "What are the casualties?" he asked.
The veteran officer went off to carry out the order and returned a short while later to report: "Three dead, four wounded."
Ma Yue nodded and said, "Handle it according to the rules."
"Aye!" The company commander cupped his fist in acknowledgment and immediately led his soldiers forward. They dragged out thirty males from among the kneeling Xianbei, both young and old, pushed them to the front of the formation, and, without further ado, beheaded every single one.
"For one Han life lost, ten Hu lives pay the price."
This was the rule of the old Ma clan, a rule established by the former General Who Crosses the Liao. As a descendant of that general, Ma Yue naturally carried on the tradition.
A wave of turmoil rippled through the kneeling Xianbei. The Xianbei Hu woman who had earlier been fetching milk became especially agitated. Struggling, she rose to her feet, stubbornly lifting her chin, and directed a rapid and intensely heated stream of words at Ma Yue in the Hu tongue.
Although Ma Yue was not completely fluent in the Hu language, he could grasp the general meaning of a few words and understood that this Hu woman was accusing him of indiscriminate slaughter, of being as brutal as a wild beast.
Ma Yue could not be bothered to utter a single word in reply, nor did he have any inclination to offer this woman any explanation. In his eyes, her shouting was about as significant as the yapping of a toothless puppy—hardly worth his attention.
It was not only Ma Yue who paid her no mind; the Southern Xiongnu people likewise took no notice. Laughing and chattering, they began, according to their prior agreement, to sort through and pack up the belongings within the tribe. Whoever struck first got first pick.
Ma Yue's men chose and took half first, and then the Southern Xiongnu took the other half. Their treatment of the captured people mirrored their treatment of the livestock—bound and driven along, marked for identification, to be divided and claimed upon arrival at Pingyang.
As for the worthless junk no one wanted and the corpses of the dead Xianbei, those were simply piled up in a heap and set ablaze.
Dragged by ropes, stumbling as she was forced onward, the Xianbei woman looked back at the thick column of black smoke climbing straight into the clouds and, unable to restrain herself, burst into heartbroken sobs.