In the barren Northern wilderness, thick smoke from the central camp-fire billowed towards the heavens. The tribesmen, with weather-beaten faces and clothes begrimed with rawhide, sat hunkered down around the flames.
The stench of their sweat was so revolting that even the hyenas steered clear of them. With filthy, yellowed teeth, they savagely tore half-cooked chunks of meat from the bone; with every bite, bloody juices dripped onto their matted beards.
Amidst the din of chewing and low grunts, a man who remained unsated slunk like a shadow. He nipped a fatty clump of meat from the rim of the cauldron and turned to bolt, but the man beside him lunged in a fury:
"You muck-eating thief!"
In an instant, the circle tightened around the thief. Fists and boots rained down upon him. The man's stifled moans were drowned out by the savage laughter of the others. They dragged him across the dirt, heavy boots thudding into his ribs.
"What is this commotion? What is all this racket?"
At the booming resonance of the Chieftain's voice, the crowd drew back. The Chief, a man twice the size of the rest, stepped forward. One of the barbarians, grease still dripping from his chin, spat thickly on the ground and said:
"Chief, this greedy dog sought to eat more than his fair share. He stole the others' portion straight from the pot."
The Chieftain cast a contemptuous glance at the bloodied man beneath his feet and delivered a sharp kick to his shoulder:
"Fool! Are you so famished that you would lay hands on your brothers' rations?"
He then turned to the others and roared:
"If your bellies aren't full, it's because you lack the stomach for tearing fresh throats! Do you whet your blades only to butcher your own kin? If it is meat and wine you crave, you'll not find it in your neighbour's pot; it lies in the lands of Lóngshén (龍神)."
At that moment, the galloping of a horse was heard from afar. A rider of their own tribe, his body caked in dust, threw himself from his exhausted mount and ran towards the Chief. He cried out:
"Chief! News... I have urgent news!"
The crowd parted. The Chief lifted his foot from the thief's chest and approached the messenger. With gleaming eyes, the messenger said:
"I have heard, Liángwáng (良王) is dispatching his army to the southern borders with Guǎng (廣)."
The Chief asked:
"What has prompted such a move?"
The messenger replied jubilantly:
"The Crown Prince and that bastard Shénwǔ (神武) have vanished; they say they were slain on the road. The Grand Marshal was assassinated a few nights ago. The capital is in utter chaos; no one knows who holds the reins of power!"
A glint sparked in the Chieftain's eyes. One of the men stepped forward and whispered:
"Chief, this is the very chance we've been waiting for. In this disorder, it is the perfect time to pillage the border villages."
The messenger continued:
"But Chief, Our South-eastern border with Jīn (金) has been heavily fortified; breaching it is impossible."
The Chieftain smirked:
"The Jīn border? Do you think I've lost my marbles? I've had my eye on our Western border with Lán (嵐) for months. The defensive wall there remains unfinished. A bunch of idle, useless layabouts stand guard in Sōng Lǐng (松岭), led by a commander who thinks of nothing but dallying with women."
The messenger asked hesitantly:
"What if Liángwáng sends reinforcements? Fighting the Lán is not like the Jīn; they are fierce and dangerous."
The Chieftain drew his dagger, skewered the stolen piece of meat from the ground with the tip of the blade, and said:
"He won't have the time! It will take days for him to even grasp what has happened; by then, we shall have sacked the village."
He then flung the bloody meat toward the beaten man and bellowed to the entire tribe:
"Seize your weapons! Tomorrow night in Sōng Lǐng, we shall feast not on dog meat, but on fatty beef! We shall bathe in the blood of their folk! Their gold and their women are yours for the taking!"
The savage roar of the tribe pierced the cold silence of the wilderness.