Chapter 52: The Coming of Winter

Chapter 52: The Coming of Winter

Between the rainy season and winter lay a brief spell of clear weather, and Li Hongshen had already begun preparations for the cold as soon as the rains ceased. This time, unlike during the rainy season when he sheltered the livestock within the territory, he chose to leave them out in the wilds. After all, the spiritual energy here in the Rift Valley was abundant, and if the animals were confined for the long winter, they would be deprived of that vital energy.

Thus, he used hundred-meter-tall trees as crossbeams, cement for pillars, and built thick wooden walls on all four sides. He split bamboo, trimmed away the nodes, and wove them into a lattice, binding it with hemp rope to form a bamboo skeleton behind the planks. Then, by mixing straw with mud, he crafted earthen walls—a building technique known as the "little dance of bamboo." Behind these mud walls was another layer of thick wood, with a gap between to form an insulated cavity, filled with wool, flax, and other materials for warmth. The roof was piled thickly with straw, so that even snow could not seep through. When summer or the rainy season arrived, the straw could be removed, rendering the animal pens warm in winter and cool in summer.

Inside, the pens were separated according to the needs of each animal. The chicken coop, for example, had cages in three tiers, while the cattle and sheep were enclosed by wooden partitions or kept in corrals, each with a feeding trough and a track installed. Every day, fodder and grain could be loaded onto a cart and distributed along the track into the troughs.

The terraced fields in Phoenix Roost Valley were harvested in haste, with only a few hardy medicinal plants left standing against the cold. The rest of the fields were fertilized and loosened, left to rest and recover through the long winter, awaiting the sowing of the new year.

The women were brought together in the textile workshop—over three hundred of them—to spin enough wool and flax, and to knit sweaters of all sizes tailored to the clan’s needs. These would be paired with fur coats, ensuring that none feared the bitter winter.

After the harvest, the men, under Li Hongshen’s direction, went into the wilds to cut firewood. The timber from the primeval forest was of excellent quality, burned long, and released a faint, pleasant fragrance, making it the perfect fuel for the cold season.

Li Hongshen walked through the camp beneath a downy snowfall, inspecting every public facility and household before the true cold arrived. At night, he gathered everyone for training, instructing the clan in the ways of surviving the winter.

The light snow was but a herald of the coming cold. Afterward would come a winter rain, and only then would the true cold wave descend. Even so, Li Hongshen had already ordered everyone to keep their boilers burning around the clock, with patrols delivering firewood daily to every household.

Because the homes were all built to a standard design, each family’s daily consumption was nearly identical, making management remarkably easy.

The fine, downy snow fell for three days. On the third night, Li Hongshen heard the patter of rain and the howl of the cold wind. The next morning, he pushed open his door and, clad in a rain cape, braved the winter rain to the camp’s walls.

From the wall, facing the Beast Forest, the cold wind and moisture stung his face like a blade, scraping across his cheeks.

“Frost has set,” he muttered.

The tall trees of the Beast Forest were coated in white frost, which fell in sheets when the wind blew. Under the sunlight, columns of vapor rose, making it seem as if he stood at the threshold of a fairyland.

The cold wind raged for another two days, growing ever fiercer. Each day, Li Hongshen climbed the walls to observe the weather, awaiting the true arrival of winter.

On the third morning, before dawn, he felt the sudden plunge in temperature. Bathed in the faint glow of sunrise, he mounted the wall again.

The cold wind from the north, merging with the cold wave, transformed the Beast Forest overnight. Goose-feather snowflakes fell from the sky, slowly piling atop the forest canopy until, under the sunlight, the woods gleamed as though painted with silver.

Li Hongshen shook the snow from his body and made his way to the council hall, summoning the tribe’s leaders for a meeting. As usual, he spoke while the others listened.

“Don’t be shy with the salt—spread it on the roads, and don’t let the snow block the paths. The snow shovels you were supposed to distribute should be in every home by now; let every household clear the snow from their own doors.

And don’t forget the roofs of the animal pens—have people climb up and clear off the snow, or the weight might collapse the buildings. Let the warriors work hard for a few days; the heavy snow won’t last long.

During winter, food supplies for pregnant women and warriors must not be interrupted. And remind everyone of the population policy. In this cold, there’s nothing else to do! Those without families, I won’t say more. But those who have wives, stay warm together—why not have children?

You leaders must all set an example. Fresh blood is our future. Even if food is tight, childbirth isn’t immediate. The new terraced fields we’re opening up next year will be more than enough. Don’t be afraid to have children—I’ll even reward it. Within five years, I want the tribe’s population to exceed two thousand. Did you hear me?

That’s all for today. Dismissed. Those with nothing to do, go home and make babies; those with work, finish quickly and then go home to make babies.”

After giving his orders, Li Hongshen once more toured the camp, inspecting every pen and animal yard.

Entering the chicken coop, he immediately sensed the warmth. He paused at the door, waiting for his body to adjust before stepping inside.

A fire burned in the coop, its smoke vented outside, and the rear window was cracked open just a little. The phoenix chickens sat contentedly in their cages, their bodies plumped up from careful fattening, their feathers gleaming with oil. Under the firelight, Li Hongshen could almost taste the flavor, his mouth watering at the sight.

He licked his glossy lips as he left the coop, then checked on the cattle and sheep. They were fine—no fires here, only oil lamps on the walls for light. The cattle lounged contentedly amid thick straw, unfazed by the cold. The sheep huddled together, the lambs in the center, their unshorn wool warding off the chill. The shepherds had laid straw on the ground to keep the cold from seeping up and harming the young lambs.

All the manure from the livestock would be carefully collected and fermented, mixed with ash to make fertilizer and, if necessary, could even be used as fuel—though Li Hongshen sincerely hoped that day would never come.