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Beiqu camp sat on the upper half of the Xinshui River's "S" curve, while the lower half was bordered by a steep mountain, like a burly warrior forcing the gentle river to bend.
With more manpower, the camp's construction sped up. Not only was the gate's moat connected to the Xinshui River, but a drawbridge was built, linking the upper and lower halves of the "S." On the lower half's mountain, a flat platform was carved out, resonating with the incessant clanging of tools.
Huang Cheng stood atop a large rock on the mountain, overlooking the camp and market along the river. Watching the patrolling cavalry, he felt their numbers were still too few, mainly due to a lack of horses. If only they had more…
The mountain was a natural watchtower, its vantage covering both the upper curve and the market across the river within arrow range. Attacking it, unless by scaling the mountain, was a pipe dream.
And now, larger, more ferocious weapons were being assembled on the summit.
"Looks like a Qiang chieftain's coming. Uncle Huang, I'll go check!" Huang Cheng said to Huang Dou, spotting a group of Qiang riders approaching.
Huang Dou looked up from his work, glancing at Huang Cheng. "Go on! As if you're any help here…"
Huang Cheng chuckled, scratched his head, grabbed a rope, and descended a rough path to meet the Qiang chieftain.
Qiang and Xiongnu differed in attire. Xiongnu favored conical leather hats, while Qiang wrapped their heads in blue or white cloth. From the mountaintop, Huang Cheng saw head-wrapped Hu and knew they were likely Qiang.
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The Qiang chieftain was robust, his face dark, head wrapped in white cloth forming a high-front, low-back cap-like shape…
Could later generations' caps have come from this?
"By White Stone, I am Linagu, master of this land's water and grass…" the Qiang chieftain said, hand on chest, with a hint of arrogance.
Fei Qian smiled, mimicking Linagu's gesture. "I am Fei Qian, Fei Ziyuan, governor of Shangjun for the Great Han. Welcome."
Fei Qian didn't speak Hu, but the old soldier could translate. Besides, in the Han era, leaders of surrounding tribes often learned some Han characters and language, making communication manageable.
Fei Qian invited Linagu to the prepared seating, inwardly scoffing: Who says Qiang are crude? He's already setting traps…
At the seating area, Linagu glanced over and smiled, seeming satisfied.
Fei Qian didn't bother with seating games. When you're outmatched, no seat changes that. If you're stronger, any seat is the master's…
So he arranged equal seating, left and right, no hierarchy.
Linagu sat, and a burly Qiang stood behind him. Huang Cheng took his place behind Fei Qian. Their eyes met; the Qiang sized up the shorter Huang Cheng and snorted softly.
Huang Cheng, expressionless, glanced at the Qiang's thick arms and stance, his lips twitching slightly.
Beef came in large platters, mutton in big bowls, wine in whole jars—not refined, but plentiful, clearly to Linagu's liking as he ate heartily, grease dripping.
Linagu didn't broach business, nor did Fei Qian. They bantered lightly, the atmosphere congenial.
After eating and drinking, Linagu clapped, laughing. "Drinking alone isn't lively. How about my lad performs to liven things up?"
Without waiting for Fei Qian's consent, the burly Qiang stepped out, took a horse's reins from a companion, mounted, and rode out. After a short distance, he turned back, galloping toward them.
A few strides in, he leaned sharply, as if slipping on an oiled saddle, nearly falling. Just before hitting the ground, he hooked a leg, hanging sideways, vanishing from view as if he'd disappeared.
A Qiang in the field tossed a small object skyward—a five-zhu coin, tumbling in the air…
A sharp "twang" rang out. A white streak flashed, striking the coin midair with a crisp "ding," shattering it…
The white-fletched arrow, spent, plunged into the ground. The Qiang rider, reaching the spot, deftly snatched it up, dismounted without slowing, and knelt before Linagu, offering the arrow with both hands.
Linagu stood, took the arrow, patted the Qiang's shoulder, and muttered encouraging words in their tongue. He returned to his seat, grinning at Fei Qian. "Hahaha, Lord Fei, what do you think of my lad's performance?"
The Qiang returned behind Linagu, giving Huang Cheng a smug glance.
Fei Qian, understanding Linagu's intent, smiled. "Since our guest has shown such fine skill, I'll have my men display a little trick of our own."
"Oh? I'm quite eager…" Linagu said, stroking his beard, squinting as he glanced at Huang Cheng, guessing he'd perform.
Soon, soldiers carried out a thick wooden board, roughly a man's height and width. At about a hundred paces, they hammered it upright, a red circle painted on it.
What was this? What was it for?
Linagu eyed the board's red circle, puzzled. A target?
Were they showing off archery?
He smirked inwardly. In archery, he doubted anyone could outshine his burly Qiang. Archery demanded precision, and such a large target? Any tribesman could hit it from two hundred paces. What could this show?
Linagu waited, but no one appeared. Confused, he glanced at Fei Qian, then at the motionless Huang Cheng. Weren't they performing? Wasn't it this man?
A breeze from the Xinshui River's bend carried damp mist, refreshing but laced with a faint noise.
It sounded like a beast growling in dense woods or a ghost wailing underground. Linagu frowned, tilting his head to listen. Suddenly, his face paled!
He spun around. The low hum revealed its source—a massive crossbow bolt, thick as a child's arm, roared from the mountaintop like thunder, shrieking as it streaked overhead, slamming into the target!