Chapter 58: The Hu Jia (I)

The group followed the White Wolf tribe’s cavalry for about half an hour before arriving at a narrow grassland. More than 500 tents of varying sizes were scattered across the field. The women by the tents rushed to the entrance upon seeing their men return, holding mare’s milk wine in their hands. But when they saw the thousands of foreigners behind their men, they grew anxious and stepped back a few steps.

“Has, you’re finally back! Amida woke up crying and looking for you just now.”
A beautiful woman from the White Wolf tribe ignored the sudden arrival of strangers, rushed forward, wrapped her arms around Old Has, and offered him the prepared mare’s milk wine.

“Kunkaya, my beauty, I’ve brought friends from the distant Tang Dynasty to our tribe. Go and tell Mohefu to arrange a feast to welcome these friends bestowed upon us by the Eternal Heaven,” Old Has instructed her with a smile, then dismounted from his horse and walked toward Gao Xiuyan.

“My friends from the Tang Dynasty, messengers from the Central Plains, please follow Old Has to Mohefu’s grand tent. He will surely be very pleased to meet you,” Old Has said loudly with a smile.

Gao Xiuyan placed one hand on his shoulder to thank his host and replied with a smile, “Then we shall disturb Old Mohefu.” He then ordered his guards, “Have everyone camp on the hill three miles away. No rudeness allowed!” The guards bowed and gladly obeyed.

Following their commander’s orders, the Tang generals dismounted their horses, tied them in front of the felt tents, and followed Old Has toward the center of the White Wolf tribe’s camp. For some reason, Li Kuo felt something was amiss. After trying to warn Gao Xiuyan several times without success, he gave up. Under Old Has’s lead, they crossed many paths surrounded by felt tents and stopped in front of a large tent covered in milky white sheepskin. Old Has placed one arm on his shoulder as a gesture of apology before stepping quickly inside.

After about half a cup of tea, a middle-aged White Wolf man in his forties, wearing yellow sheepskin on his shoulders, emerged from the tent surrounded by dozens of people.

“Friends from afar, what wind has brought you here? By the Eternal Heaven, let Suta offer you his sincerest respects,” the middle-aged man said to Gao Xiuyan in fluent Tibetan, with one arm on his shoulder.

Gao Xiuyan also bowed and replied loudly, “It was the wind that brought us here, guided by the divine wolves. Friends of the White Wolf tribe, I have come with my people to your tent, hoping to receive a cup of mare’s milk wine.”

Translated by Chen Xu in this way, the words carried a distinct nomadic flavor, causing Chief Suta to nod repeatedly. The middle-aged man named Suta was Mohefu of the White Wolf Tribe. With a relaxed expression and a joyful face, he opened his arms and embraced Gao Xiuyan, presenting him with a plain white khada as well. No further words were needed—the host had already extended an invitation. According to the customs of the White Wolf Tribe, the guest’s role was to drink heartily and enjoy the host’s hospitality to the fullest. Seeing the enthusiasm in the other party’s eyes, Li Kuo’s doubts diminished somewhat, so he stopped overthinking and followed everyone into the large tent covered in milky white sheepskin. Although he had been in the Dafei River region for some time, Li Kuo was still stunned upon entering the White Wolf Tribe’s tent. From the outside, the style of this tribe didn’t seem significantly different from that of the Tibetans, but once inside, the differences became clear. Several yellow sheepskins were sewn together and tightly wrapped around the inside of the tent; in the center of the tent stood wooden tables brought from the Central Plains. Though slightly weathered, these objects from his homeland still warmed Li Kuo’s heart. The Tibetans ruled the snowy plateau west of the Chilin Mountains, with all nomadic tribes submitting to them, leading to cultural assimilation over time. It was truly remarkable that the White Wolf Tribe had managed to preserve its tribal traditions so well. Looking around, there were no Persian silverware or spices from the Arab world—instead, there were porcelain and silk from the Central Plains. This scene made it hard for Li Kuo to believe that what he saw before him was indeed a nomadic tribe. Seeming to notice Li Kuo’s confusion, Chief Suta smiled slightly and said in somewhat awkward Mandarin, “Young man, we originally lived in the Wuxun’er River basin, but due to the oppression from the migrating Tuoguhun and Tibetans, we were forced to relocate our tribe here. Three years ago, a severe snowstorm swept through the highland grasslands, killing all our cattle and sheep. We couldn’t pay them tribute and feared retaliation, so we brought our entire tribe to the Dafei River region.” Chief Suta paused for a moment before continuing, “By chance, a caravan from the Central Plains who were heading to Luoshe City got lost and came to the Dafei River region. We treated them generously and exchanged goods with them.”

As Chief Suta spoke, his eyes gleamed with intensity, and his hands trembled slightly from excitement. “As you know, the Tibetans won’t allow us to sell horses to them. Although the Tuyuhun and Qiang are powerful, they dare not offend the Tibetans either. As a result, horses are extremely scarce in the Central Plains. Many people there risk their lives to come to the Great Fei River in search of quick wealth.”

His words were highly disrespectful. If they reached the Tibetans in Luoshe City, they might face extermination. But he seemed unconcerned and continued, “But we’re at our wits’ end. Who cares anymore? After consulting with our tribe elders, we decided to sell horses to the Central Plains.”

Chief Suta deliberately emphasized the word “sell horses” to see Li Kuo’s reaction. Seeing that Li Kuo remained unshaken, Chief Suta sighed in relief and said, “We sold nearly half of our tribe’s horses to the people of the Central Plains in exchange for plenty of grain, salt, tea, and porcelain. With these goods, we gradually emerged from the shadow of constant migration and established a foothold here in the Great Fei River.”

After Chief Suta finished speaking, Li Kuo stared at him intently, bowed in a gesture of respect typical of the Central Plains, and said with a wry smile, “Chief Suta truly has a long-term vision. The Tang Dynasty and the tribes of the plateau have always been on good terms. It’s unfortunate that the Tibetan king imposes injustice on all tribes for his own selfish reasons. Restricting trade between the tribes of the plateau and the Central Plains will only make things worse. By taking the lead in trading with the Tang Dynasty, Chief Suta will surely benefit from it.”

Chen Xu calmly translated Li Kuo’s words into Tibetan and then bowed to Chief Suta in respect. A sly look flashed in Chief Suta’s eyes before he burst into laughter. “Good, good, good! I thought you would surely refute me. I never expected you to see through my thoughts. Truly, you are a wise man from the Central Plains.”

Li Kuo didn’t know what else to say and simply bowed slightly in gratitude for Chief Suta’s praise. Gao Xiuyan, already impatient, stepped forward in a few strides and said to Chief Suta, “Respected Chief of the White Wolf Tribe, please let your guests from afar eat their fill so they can join the hospitable White Wolf Tribe brothers on horseback to hunt those plump antelopes.”

Gao Xiuyan’s tone was already somewhat strange, and coupled with Chen Xu’s hasty translation, Chief Suta was momentarily stunned. It was only after being reminded by his subordinates that he finally understood Gao Xiuyan’s meaning. Suta felt no dissatisfaction toward this casual guest from the Tang Dynasty; instead, he laughed heartily, signaling his people to bring in two roasted sheep. The Tang generals, who hadn’t eaten cooked food for a long time, paid no attention to propriety. After apologizing to Chief Suta, they drew out their small knives, cut large pieces of lamb, and began chewing them eagerly.

The tent was filled with harmony, yet Li Sheng sat alone in a corner, gnawing on a flatbread, remaining silent the entire time.

Li Kuo had a vague sense of foreboding but couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. Annoyed, he picked up a bowl of mare’s milk wine and downed it in one gulp.

“Some things don’t need to be spoken outright. What you see isn’t necessarily true. To uncover the truth, one must endure patiently and take things slowly.”

Zhou Wucui’s words rang in the young man’s mind once again. So what is true, and how can one see the truth?

Li Kuo’s heart trembled, and his gaze toward Chief Suta changed slightly. Feeling relieved, he picked up the mare’s milk wine and walked slowly toward Chief Suta.

“Holy one of the highland meadows, descendant of the white wolf. I, Li Kuo, represent the people of the Tang Dynasty to offer you, great Chief Suta, a gift bestowed by the heavens of longevity.”

Since childhood, Li Kuo had heard much about the customs of the grassland tribes from his third brother. Although the White Wolf tribe was subject to Tubo, they still led a nomadic life, and their customs were largely similar. The young man placed one arm along his side in a bow, then raised the porcelain bowl above his head as an offering to Chief Suta.

These words shocked Chief Suta greatly. How did this Han boy know so much about his own people’s customs? Could he not be from the Tang Dynasty?

With these thoughts in mind, Chief Suta solemnly stood up, bowed westward, murmuring something silently. After completing this ritual to show his anxiety, he turned to Li Kuo with a wry smile: “It seems this young man truly doesn’t understand our tribe’s situation. It’s already no small feat for our Najie tribe to secure this piece of grassland.”

Li Kuo had hoped to use flattery to Chief Suta to gain more information. But since the chief was so cautious and unwilling to reveal anything, the young man had no choice but to give up. With a wry smile, he drank the entire bowl of mare’s milk wine in one gulp.

Noticing the awkward atmosphere in the tent, Chief Suta cleared his throat gently and clapped his hands. Soon, over a dozen young women from the White Wolf tribe, dressed in dark red one-piece robes, entered one after another. Their skirts, that touched the ground, swayed from time to time, causing the silver bells attached to them to emit pleasant ringing sounds.

Gao Xiuyan and the others had never seen such attire before and were deeply attracted by it. Ignoring all notions of propriety between host and guests, they began to shout their admiration.

The young women had already formed a line, with these beautiful girls in their early twenties in the center.

Musicians stood on both sides. As Chief Suta clapped his hands, the sounds of the pipa and Qiang flute began to play.

Following the music, the young women slowly moved their graceful feet and started dancing.

With their sleeves fluttering and swift spins, they captivated the hearts of many young men from the Han tribe.