Chapter 753: Dividing the Spoils – The Heartache of the Shaman (Double Chapter) Beside the doorway of the Green Sparrow Tribe, the shaman—dressed in a mighty-looking tiger-skin outfit—looked a little melancholy, as though weighed down with heavy thoughts. The woman walking with him, a former shaman of the Half-Farming Tribe whom Han Cheng had named Yuan (Round), was tactful and perceptive. Seeing the shaman so downcast, she quickly tucked a small, delicate ceramic object into the pocket of her odd-looking but extremely comfortable outfit. Then, with one hand, she pulled apart her animal-skin clothes and used the other to guide the shaman’s hand inside. The shaman, no longer stiff and awkward as he had been during their first encounter, allowed Yuan to guide his hand without resistance. The warmth he felt through his hand was even more comforting than petting a rabbit. Yet, despite this soothing sensation, the shaman’s melancholy did not lift. Seeing this, Yuan tried to lead him back to their spacious and warm room to lie down again on the heated kang bed. But this only made the shaman look even more distressed. He quickly pulled his hand away and indicated he wasn’t going back. There was a reason for the shaman’s gloom. First, the coalition army stationed here consumed a vast amount of food every day, which deeply pained his thrifty heart. Third, and most pressing, was the matter of the busy tribe. The not-yet-completed Green Sparrow Plaza was bustling with activity. Snow had been shoveled away, and the cleared space was being filled with sacks and baskets of goods. Tie Tou and a few others were leading donkeys from the pens one by one. The captured members of the Half-Farming Tribe had also been called out from their quarters and were now standing around anxiously. This was what most troubled the shaman. On one hand, he wanted the coalition tribes to leave quickly so that his tribe could save on resources. On the other hand, he hated to see them leave because they would take their share of the spoils from the Half-Farming Tribe. These spoils were now in the Green Sparrow Tribe’s possession, and watching them being carried away freely filled the shaman with heartache. It wasn’t just food they were taking—he could tolerate that. But the donkeys, which were so helpful, and even the captives—those too were being divided up. How could he not feel pained? He stood watching for a while as the Divine Child directed people and the tribal leaders in dividing the goods into twenty-two shares. Overcome with heartache, the shaman could no longer bear to watch. He turned to find Han Cheng. Han Cheng, at that moment, was leading a small donkey over to a pile containing food, a few people, and some animal hides—one of the shares allocated to a participating tribe. Naturally, the spoils weren’t being divided evenly, as that wouldn’t be fair. The Green Sparrow Tribe, having made the most significant contribution, was entitled to the largest share. The method was as follows: first, the Green Sparrow Tribe took half of the total loot, and the remaining half was divided into twenty-two portions for the coalition. None of the tribes had objections. They had all witnessed the Green Sparrow Tribe’s contributions—from food to weapons, sleds, tents, and over a hundred warriors. By contrast, only one other tribe had sent ten men; the rest had contributed nothing. Given the massive spoils and their minimal losses, most even felt that the Green Sparrow Tribe was taking too little. The bounty they obtained from the Half-Farming Tribe far exceeded their expectations. Unsure how to divide it, they suggested letting the Divine Child handle it. Everyone agreed immediately. They had all witnessed his wisdom. Had it not been for his clever planning, they could never have captured or destroyed the Half-Farming Tribe so thoroughly, and with almost no losses. In past tribal conflicts, even victorious tribes suffered heavily. But this time, they had lost only one man and had several wounded, yet wiped out a powerful tribe. It was nothing short of a miracle. Given the Divine Child’s fairness and kindness, it made perfect sense to let him divide the spoils. No one feared being cheated. Dividing spoils was a serious matter. If the person overseeing it wasn’t respected, disputes could erupt. Having Han Cheng do it was the best outcome. And he lived up to their expectations. Han Cheng was extremely fair—he didn’t try to take advantage, didn’t favor any particular tribe. After all, under his leadership, the Green Sparrow Tribe was far wealthier than others. There was no need to be petty. More importantly, Han Cheng knew that the division of spoils would either build or destroy his prestige. A fair division would boost his and the tribe’s standing; an unfair one could undo all their past efforts. This wasn’t paranoia—it was historical precedent. For example, Chen Ping, a strategist under Emperor Gaozu of Han, gained fame among villagers just by fairly dividing sacrificial meat. Han Cheng wasn’t about to be careless with something so important. As he continued his work, the shaman approached, trailed closely by Yuan, his hand-warmer. “Shaman, is something the matter?” Han Cheng asked, placing half a basket of fruit onto a pile. The shaman hesitated. “Divine Child, I need to talk… over here.” Seeing the seriousness on the shaman’s face, Han Cheng paused his task and walked aside with him. Yuan wanted to follow but was waved off. Han Cheng immediately guessed the shaman had something private to discuss—perhaps something… personal? After all, Han Cheng had eavesdropped outside the shaman’s room the night before and heard very little. Perhaps the newlywed shaman had a… performance issue? He started mentally preparing to offer his secret stash of tiger penis wine. But the shaman spoke up: “Divine Child, about the spoils…” Han Cheng instantly understood. The frugal shaman’s inner calculator had kicked in again. Before Han Cheng could respond, the shaman shook his head, seeming to revoke his complaint. He wasn’t an unreasonable man. He might not grasp the full implications like Han Cheng, but he knew fairness was essential. Still, watching all those valuable goods being given away made his heart ache. Han Cheng chuckled, understanding the shaman’s pain. “Shaman, don’t worry. I have a way to make them willingly leave the donkeys and captives behind.” This content belongs to novel·fıre·net The shaman’s eyes lit up, his spirits lifting instantly. But then they dimmed again—he knew that no tribe would willingly take less. Before he could speak again, Han Cheng continued with a smile. “Don’t worry. They won’t get less. They’ll willingly leave them behind—without complaint.” At that, the shaman truly perked up. As Han Cheng explained his plan, the shaman grew visibly happier, all his earlier gloom vanishing. Yes! Why hadn’t he thought of such a brilliant idea? Relieved, he followed Han Cheng back to Green Sparrow Plaza, smiling from ear to ear. He even began helping divide the goods himself, smiling at everyone and personally placing items onto the designated piles—fully restored to his usual benevolent elder demeanor. There were numerous spoils and many shares to allocate. What’s more, the goods were diverse. Food was easy enough to divide. But captives and donkeys? Those had to be given as whole units—far trickier. Even Han Cheng found the task exhausting. “If only we had money,” he thought. “We could just convert everything into currency and divide it evenly.” This sparked an idea—perhaps he should introduce a currency system and push it among the surrounding tribes. With money, transactions would be easier, and as the issuer, the Green Sparrow Tribe would gain massive benefits. But for now, he set the thought aside—the spoils had been divided, and it was time for the next task. Among the captives was a teenage boy from the Half-Farming Tribe nicknamed Two-Worms. His strange name came from the two worms that constantly wriggled in and out of his nostrils—never disappearing or falling off. It was oddly magical. Right now, Two-Worms was terrified. He had been separated from his mother, who was standing with others near a pile of food. He wasn’t very mature, but he knew something bad was happening. He wanted to go to his mother, but was too afraid to move with so many people around. He stood frozen in fear, periodically sucking the worms back into his nose. This fear gripped all the captives who had been split off into smaller groups. They were instinctively frightened—separated from the main crowd, leaderless after the death of their chief. And as for their once-wise shaman… Two-Worms’ mother looked over and happened to see her holding hands with the smiling old shaman, trying to slip his hand into her clothes. The female shaman had changed. She had abandoned the tribe, and in doing so, she had abandoned them. In contrast, the chief of the Bear Tribe was ecstatic. Even more thrilled than when he captured a panda and traded it for two jars of salt. When he first joined the Green Sparrow-led attack on the Half-Farming Tribe, he was full of worry. That tribe was not only evil but also powerful. Even with Green Sparrow’s support, many of his people were likely to die. But the outcome? A total victory, with no losses to his tribe—and a massive share of the spoils! How could he not be happy? In winters past, they’d huddle in caves, unable to find food. Now, thanks to Green Sparrow, they were well-fed even during the coldest months. And during their stay, they had eaten Green Sparrow’s food, saving their reserves. All told, this would be the most abundant winter in many years. But when his eyes fell upon the three or four trembling captives standing near the supplies, his joy was tinged with a shadow…