Chapter 61: The Ruling Class
A few days later, outside a mountain-ringed cave, people from several tribes finally received the news they had been waiting for.
A dozen majestic horned deer were lined up outside the cave. The tribespeople stared at these animals they had never seen before, too terrified to approach, even though familiar faces were among the riders. Mounted on these tall creatures, the warriors seemed to tower over the trees, making everyone on the ground feel small.
It was not until their own kinsmen leaped from the horned deer, shouting with excitement, that the whole cave burst into joy.
During the expedition, most of the allied tribes, except for those closer to the west, had participated merely to honor their oath. Now that they had the new fishing method and confirmed it could provide enough food, they felt they had to abide by their original promise and send the young men of their clan. It was similar to why they had adopted the hair bun: first, to gain the protection of their ancestors; second, because they thought it looked good; third, to trade with Chen Jian's tribe; and fourth, to show their allegiance to a common ancestor.
Now, seeing their warriors return victorious with shocking news, their mindset began to change.
In the battle, their combined forces had lost just over thirty people while killing eighty to ninety of the enemy. They had also completely destroyed the enemy's village and captured nearly a hundred prisoners.
Such a lopsided casualty ratio was nothing short of a miracle in their eyes. A result like this had to be the work of the ancestors; there was no other explanation. By their common understanding of warfare, a one-for-one casualty rate was the norm.
Looking at the warriors mounted on the horned deer, the tribe's leader felt a pang of fear. If Chen Jian wanted to conquer her tribe, it would be a simple matter. But she subconsciously touched her hair bun and felt a little relieved. As long as she didn't undo her hair bun, Jian wouldn't harm her tribe, right?
The young men who had joined the expedition laughed as they recounted their spoils, using rough numbers to describe the herds of horned deer and sheep, and the grain piled high enough to fill several tents.
One young man lovingly caressed the deer he was on. It wasn't his yet, but he desperately wanted one of his own, even if he had to share it with the clan. He loved the feeling of riding it.
The old leader couldn't contain her excitement as she looked at the horned deer.
"How much will we be given?"
"Jian said our people should go to his village to divide everything there. It seems he also wants to discuss how to punish the tribes who broke their oath."
"They should be punished."
The leader couldn't help but shudder, but she nodded and spoke with feigned righteous indignation. She recalled discussing it with her clan before the expedition; some had argued against going. After all, Jian was a good person and probably wouldn't have minded if they stayed behind. He had given her tribe the fishing method without them having done anything for him at first.
Hearing talk of punishment now, the leader secretly rejoiced at her decision. She looked up at Civet Cat, who was mounted on a horned deer, and asked carefully, "Did Jian say how he will punish them?"
Civet Cat shook his head, saying he didn't know. He was only here to inform them to come to the village for a discussion and to share the spoils.
The leader was now certain: they must always keep their promises to Jian. The ancestors were truly protecting his tribe, otherwise how could they have gained so much? As for the captives, her tribe didn't want any; they would be useless to bring back.
She thought for a moment and immediately summoned her people. Since Jian wanted to hold a discussion, she had to go. She did not want her tribe to become targets for punishment.
After a brief discussion, everyone in the clan wanted to go to the village to witness the victory and see the captives. They had heard the prisoners spoke an incomprehensible language and were curious to see what they were like. With plenty of fish and fruit stored up, there was no reason the entire clan couldn't go. The whole tribe set out, commencing the second great gathering of the year.
These people felt that everything had changed since Chen Jian appeared. Life was better, food was abundant, and they even had enough surplus to raise animal cubs. With full bellies, the tribes had learned to care about their appearance, sometimes trading surplus food for soap to wash their hair. Now, even their long-standing habits were changing. In the past, they only gathered with other tribes in the spring for reproductive rites; now, they were emerging from the mountains for other reasons.
They believed that as long as they abided by their promise to Jian, believed in the same ancestors, and wore the same hair bun, their lives would only get better.
"Definitely! We must not go against any of this," the leader secretly warned herself and her clansmen as she watched the riders depart. Vaguely, she sensed that the old era—the era where she only had to worry about her own tribe—was gone forever.
***
Civet Cat and the others continued to the next tribe, secretly mapping the locations of each settlement as Chen Jian had instructed. He met different people along the way, but their expressions were all the same: shock mixed with excitement, and perhaps a touch of relief for having made the right choice.
After all ten loyal tribes had been notified, Civet Cat looked toward the distant mountains where the oath-breaking tribes lived. He wondered, how would Jian punish them?
***
On the bank of the distant Caohe River, Chen Jian rode a white horned deer, leading his column forward at a slow pace.
The bodies of their dead clansmen, as well as those of their followers, had been sent back to the village by boat earlier. He had instructed the first group to return to bury them together, leaving a mound of earth that would be built into a proper grave once everyone was back. By his calculations, the pits should be dug and the bodies interred by now. The village would know of their victory.
The main force, however, moved slowly, burdened by the immense amount of spoils and the need to guard the slaves.
Slaves who have not yet felt the true pain of forced labor do not think of fleeing. This wasn't a plantation in the Americas of a later age, and there was no Uncle Tom's Cabin to offer hope. To escape into this wilderness alone was a death sentence; there were no friendly faces to stumble upon.
Furthermore, the concept of labor for these people who were about to become slaves was limited to tasks like chopping wood or shelling beans. They might think their new life would be simple, certainly easier than the constant struggle against nature they had known before. The feeling of a life worse than death is a conclusion one only reaches through experience.
Chen Jian looked at the slaves, who showed no signs of resistance, and thought that their understanding of labor was about to be turned upside down.
The copper mine had to be worked, and mining was a high-mortality occupation even in the age of technology. Beyond that, land needed to be cleared, mud bricks had to be made, and walls had to be built and rammed... These were all exhausting jobs the likes of which they had never even heard of.
Of course, the exploitation of slaves could not be excessive. A slave, to put it bluntly, was a talking tool, but a living one. Every day it lived was another day it could work and create value. If the oppression was too ruthless, the tools would break. Uprisings and resistance were not worth the cost. In this era of scarce population, every tribe member was precious, and Chen Jian did not want them dying in pointless conflicts.
The delicate balance between the cost of repression and the profits of cruel exploitation was a lesson every ruling class had to learn, and it was an important one he intended to teach his tribe.
In this age, assuming each slave could cultivate two acres of land a year, they might harvest a thousand catties of grain. From that, three to four hundred catties would be their own rations, leaving a net profit of five or six hundred catties. It was a decent return. But if the oppression was too severe, causing premature deaths, inciting resistance, or leading to broken tools, the long-term losses would outweigh any short-term gains.
This was not a factory during the era of primitive accumulation. There were no masses of bankrupt farmers, forced off their land by enclosure movements, to draw upon. There weren't endless child laborers to be worked to death by age six and then replaced. Back then, the Poor Laws ensured that if you didn't work in a factory, you'd be thrown into a workhouse—better to live six more years in the factory.
Every era has its own rules. Though a man from another world, Chen Jian had a natural aversion to slavery, but in this time, he had to abide by the principles of this time.
Population was power, and these captured women could bring new life to the tribe. Chen Jian had observed them; they were not so different from his own clansmen. Children born to them could be raised by the tribe. A few might think of their birth mothers when they grew up, but most would choose the more comfortable life offered to them.
These captured women would also challenge the tribe's core concepts. Their children would raise a serious question: Did a child belong to the man or the woman?
With surnames distinguishing non-intermarrying clans, men farming the land to produce more food, and captured female slaves bearing children, was it still necessary to trace lineage through the mother?
The shift in perspective would not happen overnight. In a society of long-term group or pair marriage, a child's bloodline could only be traced through the mother. Each woman might have four or five regular partners, and the same was true for men. A man could never be certain which child was his, but a woman always knew.
Changing this would take a long time. It couldn't be rushed, and forcing it would be ineffective. Current productivity was not yet high enough to break the clan down into individual family units.
If he wanted to avoid the uncertainty of raising another man's child, he'd have to wait a year or two. He needed this group of slaves to get to the bronze age as quickly as possible. Then, he and his core tribesmen would be freed from production to train and conquer more tribes, to find cattle and horses, and to hasten the tribe's transition into a family-based society.
He smiled an unnatural smile. After all this time in this world, he was finally becoming a member of the ruling class, thinking about how best to exploit others.
He shifted on the horned deer, his seat suddenly feeling hot, but thankfully, his mind remained clear.
---
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