Chapter 64: Shattering the Blade (III)

Chief Suta was furious. He shouted, “Someone!” With just a wave of his hand, two guards stepped forward and dragged Kusa out of the tent, awaiting the chief’s decision.
All eyes in the tent were fixed on Asher. Everyone wanted to know what explanation this young White Wolf tribe member, Asher Tak, would have for the assassination attempt.
His gaze was filled with intense emotions—hatred, self-reproach, and helplessness. If looks could kill, Asher would have died a thousand times by now.
No one expected that the assassination that shocked the entire Naji tribe was actually done by Asher Tak! It turned out the so-called hunting trip was merely to create an alibi, and the bag left in the tent was intentionally placed there to shift suspicion!
How long had he been plotting this? It seemed the sudden arrival of the Tang army had given him the perfect opportunity!
Seeing the chief so enraged, Asher became terrified. His knees gave way, and he fell to his knees before Chief Suta.
“Uncle, I really didn’t intend to harm Brother Isuo. By the Eternal Sky, I’m telling the truth.”
Chief Suta had intended to give Asher a chance to admit his mistake, but his stubborn denial enraged him further. Kicking Asher aside, he snapped, “Wicked wretch! You still refuse to repent? With the truth right before your eyes, how dare you lie?”
After calming himself slightly, Chief Suta declared loudly, “You and General Li were both away when Isuo was assassinated. So why was this Han man’s bag found at the crime scene? The Tang army arrived at our camp less than two days ago and have been resting. Do they have the time or motive to commit an assassination? They’ve had no quarrels with us in recent times—what motive could they have? The assassin even left evidence in the tent on purpose, as if afraid others wouldn’t notice!”
After speaking so much in a row, Chief Suta was slightly out of breath. Suppressing his anger, he continued, “Who wouldn’t see through such a blatant deception? Besides, Kusa is your personal attendant, right? Even he has confessed—yet you still dare to deny it! I never thought you, Asher, would resort to such fratricide!”
By this point, the anger in Chief Suta’s voice had faded, replaced by deep disappointment and pain.
“If you admit your mistake now, perhaps, out of kinship, I can still leave you a way out. But once the evidence is irrefutable, there will be nothing I can do.”
With that, Chief Suta turned his back on Asher, leaving behind a scene of profound desolation.

Who would have thought that the usually gentle Ashertak would burst into laughter and say, “Since you already believe I’m the murderer, what more can I say? If you want to revoke my status as heir, just say so outright—why resort to such despicable tactics? To be honest, I never wanted to be the chief of the Naji tribe. But the thought of that Han barbarian becoming the chief of the Sacred White Wolves makes me sick! You always demand things from me with your harsh standards, yet you’ve never asked if I’m willing. From childhood onward, you’ve pretended to train me as a chief, but have you ever shown me even a hint of unclely affection? Uncle, I just want to live happily like an ordinary person, but you keep shackling me so tightly that I can hardly breathe!”

“Moreover, you never really intended to pass the position of chief to me. You did this only to show off to the tribe members. I’m just a placeholder for that person—any chance you get, you use it to boost his reputation! Take that fierce battle against the Qiang three years ago, for example. I led only five hundred cavalrymen to surround their camp and charged without hesitation, cutting off their escape route completely. I thought this remarkable feat would make you value me more as chief. But who would have known…”

At this point, Ashertak glared angrily at Chief Suta and spat out in hatred, “It was that man who took everything from me. He only killed a few dozen Qiang soldiers head-on—why is he listed as the top warrior? Just because he’s your only son, you suppress anyone who threatens his position, even me? Have you ever thought about the tribe? Have you ever thought about me? You always look for ways to gain popularity for him and cultivate his allies, without realizing my heart is bleeding!”

Without pause, Ashertak continued, “You say I’m your favorite child in the Naji tribe and have always entrusted the tribe’s affairs to me. But have you ever given that man even a fraction of the care you give me? From childhood, you’ve always praised me in front of the tribe for being respectful and obedient, but have you ever given me any real rewards? You deliberately train that man to handle tribal affairs for you, while the moment I mention tribal matters, you change your attitude. From the start, you’ve only used me superficially. Ultimately, it’s because I’m not your biological child!”

After saying this, Ashertak felt as if all twenty years of grievance had been poured out at once, bringing him great relief.

“What’s so good about that Han boy? He has the blood of lowly people in his veins. Allowing him to inherit the position of chief is an insult to the Eternal Heaven! I killed him—yes, even if I killed him, it was only because he deserved to die. With his death, the White Wolf tribe won’t be cursed by the Eternal Heaven, and our people won’t be trapped between the Tang Dynasty and Tubo!”
Hearing this, Chief Suta angrily pointed at Asher with his right index finger, his arm muscles twitching involuntarily. Overcome with rage, he spat a gush of blood and collapsed unconscious.
Chaos ensued inside the tent. Chen Wenjing angrily stood up, pushed Asher aside, and rushed to Chief Suta’s side. After checking his breath, seeing that he was still alive, the usually gentle and composed Chen Wenjing snapped at Asher, “What are you waiting for? Go call the priest! Do you really want to drive the chief to death from anger?”
Only then did Asher react. He staggered out of the tent.
About half a cup of tea later, a priest with bare upper body and crude animal-skin pants strode in behind Asher.
His body was covered in feathers and animal fur, and his face was painted with various sand-colored patterns.
Although Li Kuo disdained such priests, he didn’t dare say much at the moment and could only watch quietly.
The priest carried a pottery jar filled with clean water and slowly approached Chief Suta. Sitting half on the couch, he murmured incantations. After a while, he dipped his finger in a few drops of “holy water” and sprinkled them on Chief Suta’s forehead. Then he recited a few more spells and quickly pulled out several sheets of yellow rough paper from a leather bag, sticking them over the spots where the holy water had been applied.
After about another cup of tea, Chief Suta’s right fingers began to tremble slightly. Everyone was overjoyed and gathered around.
The priest snapped sharply, signaling that the chief needed rest. Reluctantly, everyone stepped back.
The priest recited a few more spells, and Chief Suta slowly opened his eyes.
Waving his hand gently, the chief indicated he was fine. The sweat at his temples showed that he was indeed old, and the long-term health problems caused by years of hard work had finally manifested.
Though his life wasn’t in danger, he surely couldn’t handle everything personally as before after this incident.
Seeing that his uncle had woken up, Ashertak crawled over to the couch and cried, “It’s all my fault. I’ve disappointed you, uncle. I submit myself to your judgment according to tribal rules and won’t complain in the slightest.”
Seeing that it was Asher, Chief Suta turned his head away and remained silent.

Asher had acted out of momentary impulse, pouring out everything on his mind. Unaware that his words utterly disregarded Chief Suta’s feelings, he spoke as if treating his own uncle like a stranger—how could this not chill Chief Suta’s heart?
Words are more hurtful than weapons; human hearts are harder to fathom than ghosts and gods!
The atmosphere became extremely awkward, and for a while, no one knew how to act.
“Dad, what’s wrong with you?”
By now, Aina had entered the tent and rushed inside. She had already learned of the clan’s troubles from her trusted followers and was filled with grief and anger.
Having lost her closest brother, she would never allow her father to suffer any further!
Pushing aside the curtain made of sheepskin, Aina rushed in.
“Dad!”
At the sight of her father, gaunt and lying on the bed, Aina burst into tears and knelt beside him in a few steps.
“Aina, you’re here.”
Chief Suta waved his hand, a faint smile appearing on his wrinkled face.
“Dad, I’m here! I’m here!”
Aina tightly held Chief Suta’s hands, repeating those words.
“Your brother… he…”
Chief Suta’s throat tightened as he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
“I already know, I already know!”
Unable to bear to see her father more upset, Aina quickly finished the sentence for him.
“What a sin! What a terrible sin!”
Chief Suta pounded his thigh in anger. “What sin did I, Suta, commit in my past life that the heavens made them fight each other as punishment? Isso is Shier’s cousin—why couldn’t that boy tolerate him?”
Aina released her father’s calloused hands and glared at Asher. “Shier, how could you do such a thing? Are you even human?”
By now, Asher was completely broken, holding his head and curling up in a corner, laughing wildly.
“Haha, they’re dead! All dead. It’s good they’re dead… it’s good…”
“It’s fate! If only I had agreed to Isso’s request, he wouldn’t have met such a tragic end.”
Chief Suta waved his hand. “Drag him down. Turn him into a slave—never let him be freed.”

In the eyes of nomadic peoples, they served as bridges and intermediaries between humans and gods, and were sometimes regarded as gods’ messengers. In short, shamans enjoyed extremely high prestige among the ancestors of the Tibetans.
The White Wolf tribe has now been completely assimilated into the Tibetans. Tracing back, their tribe must have had such shamans as well.