From afar, Bo'erzhijin Elinchen—the Ordos tribe leader—watched the entire spectacle unfold.
The dust, the gunfire, the collapsing Wushen lines, the terrified retreat.
His face slowly drained of color.
By the time the Gao Family Village Cavalry Battalion fully seized control of the Wushen settlement, Elinchen's expression had turned ashen, as if all the blood in his body had frozen.
"The Wushen tribe…" he muttered hoarsely, eyes fixed on the distant tents.
"…is finished."
A subordinate riding beside him swallowed nervously and lowered his voice.
"Should… should we go save them?"
Bo'erzhijin Elinchen turned his head and stared at the man as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke in the world.
"Save them?" he repeated flatly.
Then he shook his head.
"Nonsense."
His voice was low, firm, and utterly devoid of hesitation.
"Of course not."
He looked once more toward the distant Han cavalry, then decisively turned his horse around.
"We don't have the ability to save them," he said. "Not even close."
After a brief pause, he added quietly:
"Let's go."
"We'll pack up and move."
"Move even further away from these Han people."
No one objected.
The Ordos tribesmen immediately turned their horses and rode off, vanishing into the grassland without a second glance backward.
They understood one thing clearly:
The world at the border had changed.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the Wushen settlement, the Wushen tribe leader stood frozen in place.
His cavalry circled restlessly nearby, but none dared advance.
They could not break through.
They could not save anyone.
Inside the settlement, chaos reigned.
Cattle and sheep, startled by gunfire and shouting, scattered in every direction. Children cried. Women screamed. Tents flapped violently in the wind.
And at the center of it all—
The Gao Family Village Cavalry Battalion moved with chilling efficiency.
They did not massacre.
They did not burn tents.
They simply controlled.
Within a short time, the entire settlement was firmly in their hands.
Shi Jian dismounted and led a small squad toward the largest yurt.
Inside were four women and five children.
The wives and children of the Wushen tribe leader.
The women clutched the children tightly, faces pale, bodies trembling uncontrollably.
Shi Jian stepped forward.
He deliberately lowered his voice, making it cold, slow, and menacing.
"Behave yourselves," he said. "Obey quietly."
"For now, we won't kill you."
He paused, letting the silence stretch.
"Otherwise," he continued evenly, "you'll all be cut into minced meat and fed to the dogs."
The effect was immediate.
The threat was brutally effective.
The women gasped, trembling so violently they could barely stand. The children froze, eyes wide with terror, not daring to cry.
Shi Jian's men stepped forward, blades drawn, pressing cold steel lightly against their backs.
The women and children were forced out of the tent.
Then—
Shi Jian raised his blade.
He pointed the gleaming edge directly at the head of the eldest child.
His voice rang out across the settlement.
"I'll count to three," he roared. "All Mongol cavalry—come here and surrender!"
"Otherwise, I'll chop off his head with one strike."
"And then—one by one—I'll kill every woman and child in this settlement."
Even as he spoke, a part of Shi Jian's heart was pounding violently.
Please surrender, he prayed inwardly.
Please surrender quickly.
His words alone weren't vicious enough.
Zao Ying noticed.
She nudged him lightly with her elbow and gestured behind him.
A fierce-looking old bandit stepped forward.
This subordinate's face was crisscrossed with saber scars—deep, jagged marks that told stories of countless battles and killings. His eyes were cold, his expression vicious.
He raised his blade.
"ONE!"
The Wushen tribe leader's heart nearly burst.
"TWO!"
"No—!"
The leader screamed in desperation.
He spurred his horse forward wildly, leapt off before it fully stopped, and tumbled to the ground, scrambling forward on his hands and knees.
The remaining Mongol cavalry followed suit.
One by one, they dismounted.
One by one, they lay flat on the ground.
They surrendered.
Only then did Shi Jian finally exhale.
Deeply.
He had been genuinely terrified.
If the Mongols hadn't surrendered…
He didn't know whether he could really bring himself to kill a child.
He glanced at Scarface.
Maybe he could, Shi Jian thought. He looks terrifying.
But strangely enough, Scarface's eyes were calm, even gentle—cold on the surface, but burning with a kind of quiet loyalty.
Fortunately…
It hadn't come to that.
Shi Jian straightened his back and spoke loudly, making sure everyone heard.
"Today, I am here to inform you."
"My name is Shi Jian."
"Regional Commander Shi Jian of Yansui."
From now on, he declared—
"This entire border region around Yulin belongs to me."
"Since I have arrived, everything around here goes by my word."
"Anyone who disobeys—will be shot."
The Mongols lay prostrate, faces pressed into the dirt, not daring to make a sound.
Shi Jian pointed directly at the Wushen tribe leader.
"You," he said. "You're the leader here, aren't you?"
The leader slowly pushed himself up and nodded.
"Yes…"
Shi Jian nodded.
"Good."
"Do you understand who you should obey from now on?"
The leader clenched his fists.
Humiliation burned in his chest, but he swallowed it whole.
"I will obey Regional Commander Shi Jian of Yansui," he said hoarsely.
"Good that you understand."
Shi Jian waved his hand casually.
"I didn't come here for nothing."
"Bring me ten cattle and one hundred sheep."
"I'll spare your women and children."
There was no room for negotiation.
The leader lowered his head.
"…Do as he says."
Several Mongol cavalrymen immediately rose and went to herd the livestock.
Soon, a vast procession of cattle and sheep was driven forward.
Zao Ying's bandits—experts at herding—took over without a word, efficiently gathering the animals while cavalrymen kept watch.
Before leaving, Shi Jian turned back and threw out one final sentence:
"I'll be back in a few days."
"Have cattle and sheep ready to entertain me."
"If you dare resist, you'll all be slaughtered."
"But if you obey quietly—and someone bullies you on the plains later…"
He paused.
"Just tell them my name."
With a sharp wave of his hand—
"Go!"
The Gao Family Village Cavalry Battalion withdrew southward.
Only when they were far away—
Far, far away—
Did Shi Jian finally collapse slightly in the saddle and let out a long breath.
"Dao Xuan Tianzhun," he reported earnestly, touching the puppet at his chest,
"your subordinate has fortunately not failed the mission."
"And… I believe I did a convincing performance as a fierce and wicked Han general."
The puppet Dao Xuan Tianzhun tilted its head.
"No good," it said flatly.
Shi Jian stiffened.
"Your acting was terrible."
"Not fierce at all."
"Let alone wicked."
Shi Jian: "..."
The puppet continued mercilessly.
"Once you return, immediately summon Commander Chen."
"From now on, he will handle Mongol affairs."
Everyone sucked in a breath.
At the mention of Commander Chen, not a single person objected.
Because when it came to playing villains—
There was no one more terrifying in Dao Xuan Tianzhun's domain.
In Gao Family Village, if a child cried at night and refused to sleep, parents only needed to say one sentence:
"If you cry again, Commander Chen will come."
The child would immediately fall silent.
Using Commander Chen to intimidate Mongols?
Perfect.
Shi Jian hesitated.
"Dao Xuan Tianzhun… aren't we going a bit far?"
"We're killing people, seizing livestock, threatening them—only violence, no benefits."
"Will they really obey?"
"This," the puppet replied calmly, "is exactly what works."
"They have a wolf culture."
"They respect strength."
"The stronger and more domineering you appear, the more obedient they become."
"If you show weakness, they'll challenge the alpha."
Shi Jian sucked in a cold breath.
"Hiss… why are there such people in the world?"
"Because of their harsh environment," Dao Xuan Tianzhun replied.
"Of course, suppression alone isn't enough."
"After sufficient suppression, you give them a little benefit."
"Just a little."
"Then they'll become devoted."
"This is called…"
"Stockholm Syndrome."
Shi Jian stared blankly.
Zao Ying stared blankly.
Zheng Daniu suddenly slapped his thigh.
"Oh! I get it!"
Shi Jian and Zao Ying spun around in shock.
"You understood?!"
Zheng Daniu grinned broadly.
"We'll have mutton tonight."
"…That's it?"
"What else?" Zheng Daniu said innocently.
He waved his hand.
"Whatever Dao Xuan Tianzhun says, we do."
"Why overthink it?"
"Divine revelations aren't for mortals to understand."
Shi Jian and Zao Ying exchanged looks.
At last, they understood why Zheng Daniu and Gao Chuwu were so favored.
They didn't think.
They just obeyed.
The puppet Dao Xuan Tianzhun continued:
"These methods are temporary."
"Once the Mongols are sufficiently assimilated, once they learn Han culture and abandon wolf instincts…"
"They'll be treated as brothers."
"…That will take a very long time."
"No rush."
"Understood," Shi Jian said solemnly.
"Understood," Zao Ying echoed.
Meanwhile…
Back at the Wushen settlement.
The Wushen tribe leader sat before his tent, surrounded by his four wives, five sons, loyal subordinates, and the gathered men, women, and children of the tribe.
Silence stretched.
At length, he raised his hand.
"That Han man—Shi Jian…"
"…is too formidable."
"We cannot oppose him."
He took a deep breath.
"We move."
"Northward."
No one objected.