"One thousand jin... of gold!?"

The dense Divine Smoke swirled around the blood-red temple of Yongning, dazzling the senses as much as the flickering Golden Light. Chief Ali of the Harman Tribe widened his eyes, holding the Gold Talisman in his hand, looking at Zuwaro in disbelief. At that moment, he thought he must have hurt his ears or was experiencing an illusion.

"Ancestor... Ancestor Shaman, surely you must be joking? One thousand jin of gold? That’s sixteen thousand taels of gold, at least one hundred thousand taels of silver! Such an astonishing amount of wealth, even the Liaodong Chief Soldier would find it difficult to produce! Downstream in this bitter cold along the Great River, the tribes of the Wild Men live primitively, with barely enough ironware, so how could they possibly amass such a fortune in gold?!..."

"Oh? You don’t believe it?... Xiong Da, go to the flagship and bring the bag of Gold Talismans from the hold!"

"Alright!"

The formidable Xiong Da nodded, swiftly rushing out. It wasn’t long before he returned, struggling breathlessly with a tightly bound leather bag, sturdy and heavy. He removed the bag from his shoulder and threw it heavily to the ground, producing a crisp and delightful collision sound from within.

"Ding! Ding!..."

"!!..."

Chief Ali of the Harman Tribe, his fingers trembling, knelt down and opened the bag. Immediately, a blinding Golden Light enveloped his face, dazzling his weary eyes. He extended his palm, grabbing at the Gold Talismans with both hands, feeling the heavy weight in his grasp. His face was filled with greed and astonishment, it was as if he were dreaming!

"Ancestor! This one is gold! This one too! These are all gold? This whole bag? How can this be?!... The tribes of the Northern Qiongha are wild, how could they so easily produce a bag of gold like this?!..."

"Indeed! Ali, this bag has roughly over a hundred Gold Talismans. The fleet came with one bag, but it wasn’t counted precisely. Altogether, it will weigh over a hundred jin, certainly not less than that! As for one thousand jin of gold, or even ten thousand jin! For those who believe in the Chief Divine, it’s just as effortless...

"The great power of the Chief Divine is incomprehensible! In one hand, He holds the Javelin of Lightning, and in His other, gleams the Golden Light. He possesses great Mana and can grant us gold..."

"!! Mana? This is a gift from the Divine Spirit? It’s conjured gold?..."

"Hmm..."

Zuwaro smiled slightly, carefully observing Ali’s excited expression, probing with deep implications.

"How about now? Ali, do you believe now? Tell me, if we take ten horses and one thousand jin of gold southward for Tribute Trade with the Ming Dynasty, will the Divine Emperor of Ming meet us and grant us the craftsmen we need as a return gift?"

"!!... Ancestor Shaman, give me a moment, let me catch my breath... Is this real?... It’s real!..."

Chief Ali of the Harman Tribe knelt before the bag of gold, his entire body shaking. He stared at the shimmering golden light, greedily inhaling the smoke from the temple. Among the smoke, there was the familiar pine scent of the Tungusic Tribe, the An Chunxiang of the Heilongjiang Jurchen Sacrificial Rite, and another peculiar fragrance, soothing yet indescribable.

At that moment, before the "conjured" bag of gold by the Wild Man Shaman, he was overwhelmed with shock to the point where he momentarily believed he was under a spell cast by the shaman.

"Ancestor! At the Kaiyuan Market, one stone of rice is only slightly over five cents of silver, even sold at a higher price to our Jurchen Tribe, it would be just six or seven cents... This one hundred jin of gold is at least ten thousand taels of silver, fifteen thousand Ming Stones worth of food, enough for the Great Tribe of five thousand people to eat frugally for a year!..."

"But this isn’t food, nor even silver, this is gold! This is the rarest, most universally valued gold, desired by everyone! The fur produced by the tribe is only purchased by the merchants at the Kaiyuan Market, and even then it depends on their pricing. But these shining gold pieces, from the Guerrilla military down to the Border Fortress garrison, no one will refuse them!"

"Chief Divine of the Golden Light! Just a single Gold Talisman handed to the Guardian at the Kaiyuan Market, and the amount of ironware the tribe can take back would double! No, just with such a Gold Talisman, opening up trade routes, trading with the Lord of Commander at each Border Fortress, or even higher up... all the iron armor, iron blades, any desired military supplies, can be privately traded! Even if they take them outside the border wall for trade... No, outside the border wall trade... the scent of blood?... the scent of blood!..."

In the lingering Divine Smoke, Chief Ali of the Harman Tribe’s gaze shifted, looking at the bag of Gold Talismans as if seeing stacks of food or bundles of iron weapons and armor.

His initial greed and desire for the gold were not much different from those of the Martial Family and merchants among the Japanese. But his essence, ultimately that of a Jurchen Chief born in the White Mountain Black Water, striving for survival through warfare, no amount of "Sinicization" could change his tribe’s circumstances, the logic of survival for the tribe...

"Chief Divine! Before the Golden Light of the Chief Divine, I smell the scent of blood. It’s the heart offered on the altar, the death lying in close proximity, just like my chest engraved with the Divine Bird Emblem!"...

Smelling the blood scent in the Divine Smoke, Chief Ali of the Harman Tribe suddenly awakened. He painfully tore his gaze away from the heap of Gold Talismans, looking toward the crimson Shaman Altar under the Divine Emblem, toward the scarlet heart sacrifices.

The primitive and mysterious tribal scene before him was reminding him that he was not positioned at the prosperous Kaiyuan Market of the Ming Dynasty, but rather in the abandoned and desolate Yongning Temple, in the brutal battles at the lower reaches of the Black Wolf River. His identity was no longer the "Harman Guard Chief", nor the "Chief of Harman Tribe", but the newly initiated "Apprentice Ali". And the one beside him producing such a bag of gold was not a tribal merchant engaging in trade, but the enigmatic and inscrutable "Wild Man Shaman" performing Spirit Communication rituals. The trade for this gold was intended with the Great Ming Border Army, a group no better than the Jurchen Tribe, equally starving, only held back by the "Civil Official Priest" and "Inner Eunuch Snake", relentlessly pulling their leashes...