General Sipan’s Death and Ling’s Revenge Plan
 
The death of General Sipan brought endless wailing and sorrow to the Ling kingdom. The entire nation was consumed by grief, and everyone held a burning desire for revenge. Their emotions surged like stormy waves and roared like a fierce wind. Heroes from all over volunteered to fight, their requests never ceasing.
 
The next day, Niben donned his “Fortress of Protection” golden armor, armed himself with a bow, arrows, and the “Three Peaks of the Snow Mountain” treasured blade, and mounted his steed, the swift “Golden Goose of Flight.” His nine hundred knights, each clad in iron armor trimmed with gold, wore white helmets with golden brims and yellow plumes for shade. They carried tiger-skin quivers and bow bags, held shields, sharp blades, and long spears, and rode golden-yellow warhorses, marching in a majestic formation. Together, they crossed the Yellow River and approached the Hor camp.
 
At the same time, the Hor soldiers were also preparing for battle, armed and armored. The White Tent King ordered his troops to remain calm and disciplined. He commanded the Yellow Tent division to fully mobilize. Led by the Yellow Tent King’s brother, the heroic warrior Tangze Yuzhou, and Sinba Saiguo Dongtu, the seven-thousand-strong Yellow Plume Army set out in an orderly formation.
 
The Hor soldiers dressed in yellow, mounted yellow horses, and wore yellow plumes. They carried quivers, bow bags, treasured blades, and spears, assembling into an impressive army. Sinba Saiguo Dongtu led the front, while the Yellow Tent King and Tangze followed at the rear.
 
On the Ling side, Niben was surrounded by his cavalry. When the Hor army came within an arrow’s distance, Niben shouted, “Today, I fight for three reasons—first, to avenge my brother Yuda; second, to seek justice for the fallen heroes; and third, to avenge General Sipan. If I fail to achieve these, I am nothing but a cowardly fox!”
 
The Yellow Tent King laughed arrogantly and said, “Niben, you think you are the sun warming the earth. But I, the Yellow Tent King, am the poisonous star spewing venom into the skies! My Yellow Plume troops are like a constellation, spreading deadly toxins everywhere. Today’s victory will belong to the Yellow Plume Army of Hor, while the disgrace of cowardice will belong to Ling’s children. If you want to pray, do so quickly, for the earth will grant you only this one day!”
 
With that, the Yellow Tent King drew his blade and charged forward.
 
Niben’s Victory and the Loss of Rongcha Maerle
 
Niben did not shoot his arrow immediately. Instead, he tightened his armor and stood firm, confident in the protection of the golden-red cloak granted by King Gesar, which made him immune to blade strikes. The Yellow Tent King, who had never encountered such a formidable opponent, was shocked and turned to flee.
 
At that moment, Dacha Dongnian, a young warrior from Ling’s Golden Plume Army, shot an arrow that struck the Yellow Tent King’s horse. Niben also fired an arrow, hitting both the Yellow Tent King and his horse. Man and horse rolled to the ground in a golden heap.
 
The Ling forces unleashed a barrage of arrows for hours. By noon, they switched to spears for close combat, and by dusk, they engaged in fierce sword fights. The battle raged until nightfall, and the Ling army killed over thirty thousand soldiers from Hor’s Yellow Plume Army. Sinba Saiguo Dongtu, injured by an arrow, was killed by Dacha Dongnian of the Serba Division.
 
In the darkness, Tangze feigned resistance and casually fired a few arrows, killing seventeen soldiers from the Darong Chotong tribe. Meanwhile, the cowardly King of Darong Chotong, terrified by Hor’s massive army, quietly fled into a cave in the mountainside. He remained hidden until the battle ended, then sneaked out to cut off a bagful of fingers from the corpses of Hor soldiers. Proud of his “achievement,” he leisurely followed the army back to camp.
 
As night fell, both armies halted their fighting and retreated.
 
Jiacha’s Pain and the Mourning of Rongcha Maerle
 
By the time night had fallen completely, the armies of Hor and Ling ceased fighting and retreated. Jiacha Xiega grew increasingly worried. The battle had raged from dawn to dusk, and Niben and the others had yet to return. Unsure if they had been injured or killed, Jiacha ignored the chief steward’s attempts to stop him, crossed the Yellow River alone, and rode out to find them.
 
Fortunately, Ling’s troops were already on their way back, celebrating their victory. Jiacha met them halfway, and his brothers surrounded him like sparrows flocking together, escorting him back to Ling’s camp.
 
After returning to camp, the soldiers held a ceremony to mourn the great hero General Sipan. Following the ceremony, Jiacha awarded Niben a hero’s banner in recognition of his extraordinary achievements in battle.
 
However, Darong Chotong was displeased with Niben receiving such an honor. He brought out a bag full of fingers he had cut from fallen Hor soldiers and spilled them onto the ground, loudly boasting about his own “heroic deeds.” When no one paid him any attention, he angrily mounted his horse and rode out of the camp. Unfortunately, both he and his horse fell into a deep, treacherous mud pit. After struggling for some time, he finally managed to climb out, humiliated.
 
Rongcha Maerle’s Heroic Charge and His Tragic Death
 
Three days after Niben killed the Yellow Tent King of Hor, the young hero Rongcha Maerle from Ling mounted his steed and crossed the Yellow River as swiftly as a red spirit of vengeance. He charged directly toward Hor’s camp. Sinba Meiruze was the first to spot him and immediately ordered the camp’s defenses to be fortified.
 
Three Hor warriors—Qiangla, Dochin, and Baqing—readied their lassos, mounted their horses, and charged forward to face Maerle. They thought he would be intimidated by their advance, but Maerle fearlessly swung his treasured blade and rushed straight at them. His heroic display stunned the three warriors, leaving them momentarily frozen. Before they could even throw their lassos, they turned back and retreated to the camp.
 
Meanwhile, Maerle had already reached the rear of the Hor camp. He beheaded a Sinba warrior named Luoqiu Tuoma and destroyed the White Tent and Black Tent banners, slashing through them three times with his blade. He smashed their tea stoves and killed hundreds of armed guards. The ground was soaked with blood, but he spared those who were unarmed.
 
He then charged toward the western gate, where he encountered Sinba Saiguo Dongtu of the Yellow Tent division. Maerle killed him on the spot and escaped through the rear gate.
 
At this moment, the three Hor warriors who had fled earlier—Qiangla, Dochin, and Baqing—regrouped and caught up to Maerle. They simultaneously threw their lassos. Qiangla’s white lasso caught Maerle’s left arm, Dochin’s red lasso snagged his right arm, and Baqing’s black lasso hooked onto his back.
 
Maerle swung his treasured blade with one hand, cutting through the white and black lassos. However, the red lasso held firm. With his free hand, Maerle thrust his blade into Dochin’s stomach, spilling his intestines onto the ground.
 
Several other Sinba warriors took the opportunity to surround Maerle. Thanks to his divine armor, their attacks failed to harm him. But Dochin pulled hard on the red lasso, dragging Maerle off his horse. The Sinba warriors swarmed him, managing to remove his heavenly armor. Without the protection of this god-blessed armor, the heroic Rongcha Maerle was finally overwhelmed and killed by their blades.
 
Jiacha's Despair and the Arrival of the Mothers
 
On the opposite bank of the Yellow River, Jiacha watched helplessly as yet another brother fell in battle. Overcome with grief, tears streaming down his face, he hastily donned his armor and grabbed his weapons.
 
“Today, I will add my life on top of Maerle’s!” he declared, mounting his horse.
 
But just as he was about to ride off, Niben and Dapan rushed to him, grabbing his hands and pleading desperately:
 
“Brother, please endure for one more day! Tomorrow, the two of us will go with you. Together, we will surely capture the White Tent King!”
 
The two clung to him tightly, refusing to let him go. At the same time, Danma, Senda, Gade, and Niancha knelt before Jiacha and bowed their heads, saying:
 
“Today, we entreat you, noble general, to remain seated on your throne. Let us, your ministers, take the field in your stead. Any one of us can go to battle in your place.”
 
They grabbed the stirrups of Jiacha’s horse from both sides, firmly holding him back.
 
At that moment, Jiacha’s father, Senlun, emerged and began to advise him:
 
“Today, you must endure and remain seated. The Lion King lingers in the northern lands, and now Maerle and Yuda have fallen to the hands of Hor. They aim to sever the roots of the Mubudong clan, to shred the Sacred Ling lineage like frayed rope, and to churn the peaceful southern continent into chaos, as if mixing blood into milk.
 
To subdue such a powerful enemy, we must be vigilant, swift, resolute, courageous, and tenacious—just like the Lion King. Do not recklessly charge in without a plan. You cannot turn your back on me, your aging father, and the chief steward, nor can you stubbornly rely on brute force against the enemy. Such a sacrifice would be meaningless.”
 
As he spoke, the chief steward Rongcha Chagen rode into the camp. He was clad in battle armor with a flaming plume on his helmet. A treasured blade hung at his waist, a prized bow rested on his arm, and his quiver was filled with three hundred iron-tipped arrows. Mounted on a fierce and steady red horse, he looked both imposing and majestic.
 
Reining in his horse, he declared:
 
“Sons of the Sacred Ling Mountains! Today, this old man will achieve great glory in battle. If all we do is fight recklessly, then we are no better than fools who seek death!”
 
The Song of Sacred Ling's Defiance
 
He then started to sing:
 
The White Tent King of Hor’s Yazhe City,
Leads his army to invade our Sacred Ling.
Warhorses so numerous they’ve devoured the grass,
Tents so many they’ve overwhelmed the land.
Armor burns the earth with its blazing light,
Spears and plumes cover the skies in shadow.
 
Above, they block the clouds that roam the heavens,
In the middle, they obstruct the gentle breezes,
Below, they stomp sweat from the earth’s crust.
They’ve wrought every evil imaginable!
 
Heroes of the Sacred Ling!
Arms hang limp but still strike tirelessly,
Horse spines bow but still gallop relentlessly,
Blades have dulled but still hack away,
Arrows nearly spent, yet still fired,
Bows drawn to the limit, yet still pulled.
 
The people of Ling have set a heroic example,
Yet the enemy forces remain vast.
Now comes a critical moment:
The few cannot defeat the many.
 
I, the chief steward, though old and frail,
Will not sit idly in anguish.
Dying today is no short life,
Dying tomorrow is no long life.
 
As the Tibetan saying goes:
“Fathers and uncles with many children,
Their hearts feel as steady as Mount Sumeru.
Fortunes are like treasures from the ocean,
Admired like butter in a golden bowl,
Enjoyed like nectar in a turquoise vessel.
 
But an old man left without descendants,
Feels worry like a flag on a mountain peak,
His heart heavy as a black hole,
Mocked by others like a dead wind’s howl,
And his sorrow like frost upon the earth.”
 
If anyone should die, it is your steward.
Even if stopped, I must go to die.
If anyone should live, it should be Jiacha.
He must stay to rule from the golden throne.
 
Haha! I jest, but my words are true.
Though my body is failing,
My determination is as firm as a snow mountain.
I know how to advance and retreat wisely.
 
Old tigers remain cautious despite their age.
Old bulls still bring fortune.
Old fish still swim with agility.
And this old steward still knows how to fight!
 
Sons of the Sacred Ling Mountains!
“A blade too hard will snap at the spine,
A bow too stiff will break at the center,
A horse too fast will stumble at the knees,
A youth too reckless will ruin his own name.”
Such are the wise words of the ancients.
 
When subduing the enemy’s right wing,
Advance like a rolling boulder,
Retreat like a flash of lightning.
Do not force matters unnecessarily—
These maxims you must remember!
 
Today, this old man will,
Chase the White Tent and Black Tent foxes,
And the Sinba jackals from their rear.
I’ll scatter the Sinba across the plains,
Like startled birds fleeing in fright!
 
This is the glory I’ll achieve today,
So watch closely, everyone!
 
Jiacha’s Struggle and the Arrival of the Women
 
The Chief Steward was preparing to lead the troops into battle, but Jiacha was filled with anguish. Sincerely, he said, “Uncle, how can you go to war while leaving me behind to sit idly in the camp? How could I bear this? Just as the old saying goes, ‘If nephews cannot share the worries of their uncles, having many nephews is no better than having pigs or dogs.’ I must go! I must go and tear the heart out of the White Tent King myself! Even if it costs me my life, I will have no regrets!”
 
Despite his determination, Jiacha could not overcome the heartfelt persuasion of those around him. His brothers, Niben and Dapan, as well as the other warriors, all refused to let him go into battle. Overcome with frustration and sorrow, Jiacha remained silent, his face downcast and full of grief.
 
Meanwhile, the tragic news of Maerle’s death had reached the capital. Upon hearing it, the royal women of the family, including the Queen Mother Guomu, Jiasa, Rongsa, Senjiang Zhumu, Naiqiong, Rousa, Kagaruozong, and Namu Yuzhen, all mounted their horses and rode to the camp to mourn. The sight of the women approaching the military camp caused a stir among the warriors. After receiving word of their arrival, Jiacha frowned and said, “It’s not a good omen for women to come and go in the military camp. Send them back immediately!”
 
However, Danma, one of the senior warriors, strongly objected. “No, no! Guomu is the biological mother of King Gesar, and she is the reincarnation of the Dragon Maiden of Medo Naze. Jiasa is the princess of the Eastern Emperor and your own mother. Rongsa, Maerle’s mother, is the princess of the Rong Kingdom. The other five or six wives and daughters are also prominent figures from the royal family of Bumba. No harm will come of their presence. If they are not allowed to join the mourning for Maerle and meet with everyone, it might actually bring misfortune. It is better to let them come.”
 
Although Niben and Dapan privately agreed with Jiacha’s concerns, they did not speak up. On the other hand, warriors like Gade, Senda, and the witness Suwanaqiong supported Danma’s opinion. Finally, the Chief Steward intervened and said, “There is no need to avoid having our own family members in the camp. Let the mothers and sisters come inside.”
 
The women, dressed in flowing white mourning robes, approached the camp. When they reached a distance of about an arrow’s flight away, they dismounted from their horses and bowed deeply toward the military camp. Their robes, long and light, swayed gently in the wind, trailing behind them. Upon seeing this, Jiacha reluctantly said, “Raise the ‘Wishful White Tent’ for them to rest under. We, the warriors, do not need to leave the camp to meet them. Let them rest for a while.”
 
The Seating in the Wishful White Tent
 
Although Jiacha had agreed to allow the women into the camp, he still felt uneasy about their presence. To accommodate them, Danma, Zhujie, and junior officials such as Dayu and Guru Jianzhan raised the “Wishful White Tent” as a shaded pavilion. At the central position of the tent, they prepared a tiger-skin throne for Jiacha, symbolizing his leadership.
 
On either side of Jiacha’s throne, leopard-skin seats were arranged for Niben, Dapan, Alubasen, Renqing Dalu, and the other key warriors. To the right of the tent, the central position was left vacant in honor of the Chief Steward Wang’s absence, while on the leftmost side, soft satin cushions were prepared for the other heroes and commanders.
 
The ministers and warriors all dressed ceremonially, wearing long silk robes, white hats, and carrying their treasured swords. Mounted on their horses, they arrived at the pavilion one after another. The officials who had arrived early dismounted to welcome the others, and soon everyone had taken their seats in an orderly fashion.
 
Notes 

As a horseback-based nation, they had no permanent camps. In daily life, they lived a nomadic lifestyle, moving with the water and grasslands. During wartime, they fought wherever the battle took them, setting up makeshift kitchens and camps on the spot. Thus, the "tea stove" became the center and base of their daily life and military operations. Destroying the tea stove symbolized the conquest of a tribe or a military unit.