Li Jing launched a night raid on Dingxiang, and the vast Turkic camp of a hundred thousand men erupted into chaos.
While others fled for their lives, Qifu Lie licked his lips and led eighteen riders straight into the Tang army’s supply train. His curved saber flashed in a bright arc. Three hundred shi of grain, ten suits of iron armor, sixty warhorses: this was his first fortune on the steppe.
He returned to his tribe: 120 people, 47 of them able to draw a bow. They were so poor they could hear the wind whistle through their pockets. They had more sheep than people, and fewer blades than sheep.
But Qifu Lie knew what lay ahead: the Xueyantuo would rise in three years, and in ten, the Tang would establish a Protectorate General’s Office. His knowledge of history was his lifeline.
He posed as a bandit to rob Xueyantuo caravans and pin the blame on the Tang army. He pledged allegiance to the Tang and traded with them, buying iron to forge blades. He broke up the bloodline tribes and built an Eight Banner military government. Ten Thousand-Man Commanders led the troops, officials of merit and fault handled rewards and punishments, and eight thousand armored horsemen guarded the Golden Tent.
Bachu made him kneel in the snow in front of everyone, shovel sheep dung, and stole his woman. Ashina Yun lifted her chin. “Qifu Lie, what can you do besides robbing people?”
Later, on a stormy night, seven men rode out of camp, their curved sabers thirsting for blood. She cut the ropes, her words sharper than her blade. “I can walk on my own.”
Later still, at the foot of Golden Mountain, the Eight Banners stood in formation, and the Ten Thousand-Man Commanders knelt to present their ivory-handled sabers. She stood beneath the blue-trimmed banner. “You be khan, and I’ll be your queen. If you lose, I’ll kill you first, then myself.”
Li Daozong sat astride his horse, saber in hand. “What makes you think you can stand against the Tang?”
A Lie tilted his head and smiled, driving his nicked curved saber into the frozen earth.
“Because the first blade I ever took was Li Jing’s grain.”
“Because from now on, this steppe bears the name Qifu.”
Not bad. I hope the author can really write about the heroic feeling of dominating the grassland. There is no need to avoid plundering and the like. It is just the survival of the grassland people. I am a Tang Dynasty and I also defend, and I am a Turk and I also rob. It's just a different stance.
It's actually an anti-Tang book. I need to read it.
Not bad, good-looking, there are very few grassland books
I like to see this kind of thing
I have never come across this subject before. I hope the author can continue writing.
The author has courage, but beware of the imperial army coming to charge you
Very beautiful and worth recommending
I've read a few chapters so far and it's okay, it's a niche topic