The women's revelry continued late into the night.
The three bonfires, representing the Mother Goddess, the Fire God, and the Mother, burned brightly until late into the night.
The revelry at night was no longer for the men. The men escaped from the women's grasp to fetch meat, fruit, and wine. The little boy surnamed Ji also went to get some, but his hand was firmly held by Jiang Ai.
He was so frail that when Jiang Ai held his hand, it felt like she was squeezing the soft, delicate neck of a small bird. It seemed as if she might break his hand if she wasn't careful.
He was flustered yet submissive as she pulled him along.
Jiang Ai was reflected in his eyes. She was wearing a magnificent dress that he had made himself—he had specially consulted with an older man in the clan and had even innovatively made the dress into a single piece.
The top was made of animal hide, with patterns carefully sewn out with straw thread and snakeskin; many bird feathers were sewn around the waist, and he carefully sewed several rows as decoration; the bottom was made looser, so as not to affect Jiang Ai's movement, and also to take into account that Jiang Ai could continue to wear this outfit as she grew taller.
The little boy, whose surname was Ji, grinned foolishly.
The thought that Jiang Ai would wear the clothes he had made when she went hunting softened his heart. All the nights he had stayed up and the lamps he had lit seemed unimportant now.
He rubbed his eyes.
He no longer thought about the promise he had made to his uncle—that it was better to be Jiang Ai's man than to be a "king".
His little scheme was seen through by the older women. They chuckled and patted the little boy's face, teasingly asking Jiang Ai when she planned to make him her own.
Jiang Ai just smiled.
The women knew she wanted to play around a bit longer, so they became even more brazen in touching the little boy's hand. The little boy looked at Jiang Ai timidly, and when he saw her smiling at him, his heart warmed again.
The hands that landed on his face and shoulders no longer seemed so important.
Jiang Ai held the little boy's hand for a while, then, finding him in the way, let go. The little boy obediently followed her instructions, leaving the crowd and joining the men in bringing them steaming hot meat and wine.
The women took the meat from the men's hands and ate it happily.
The chieftain stepped down from the wooden platform and spoke with the women about the upcoming war—their tribe was considered large among the nearby tribes. But wars between tribes were never simply a contest of numbers.
Slightly tipsy women hide their ambitions behind their half-closed eyelashes.
They quickly exchanged information in the flickering firelight. The women who had recently gone to nearby tribes to exchange boys gathered in the triangle formed by the campfire, their eyes shining as they spoke of the tribes they had visited.
They mentioned the tribe that had no offspring, so they traded a rabbit skin for a boy; and then they mentioned the tribe that raised many useless boys, and couldn't even get a rabbit skin in return.
They looked at the little boy standing with the men of their tribe, who had no ambition whatsoever and whose heart and eyes were only for Jiang Ai.
The women chuckled knowingly.
They didn't deliberately mistreat the child; they simply placed him in the men's positions—and he grew into the child they had hoped for.
He had become a proper man of the Jiang clan.
The clan chief laughed along with them.
Her steady voice fell on the flames: "It's summer now. We still have one more season to prepare."
From the past to the present, no tribe has ever waged war in the summer. The summer sun is too intense, and it always rains at inopportune times.
Apart from the tribe roads repaired by the men and the hunting trails managed by the women, almost all the ground was muddy.
We'll have to wait until autumn.
When autumn comes, it will be time for them to strike.
The women of the Jiang tribe kept this secret to themselves. Each of them was a formidable warrior, possessing experience of fighting wild beasts face to face.
Although the young women had not yet experienced the wars between tribes, they had heard about those past events from their mothers.
The older women drank heartily. The blood in their bodies boiled with the wine and the meat, with the imagined future of carnage.
The three bonfires, originally lit for Jiang Ai's coming-of-age ceremony, are now burning for these women.
Jiang Ai was among these women. She had just shed the title of "girl" and had successfully become a woman of the Jiang clan.
Her twin sisters, who were not yet adults, nestled close to her.
They bear a striking resemblance to Jiang Ai, about 70%. This is because they share the same mother—but different fathers.
A father's influence on a girl is always much smaller than that of a mother.
The girls asked, "Sister Ai, are you nervous when you stand on the wooden platform?"
Jiang Ai chuckled softly. She touched her spiky hair, then chuckled and patted her sisters' heads. Having broken free from the constraints of long hair herself, she was now looking forward to her sisters' coming-of-age ceremony.
Only after cutting your own long hair will you truly realize the difference between long and short hair.
Jiang Ai said, "I'm not nervous."
She explained to the girls carefully, "All you need to do is cut off your hair and wash your body. Nothing beats the thrill of fighting a wild boar."
The younger sisters gasped in envy.
They were too young, too young for the women to participate in hunting. But the girls chopped wood, paved roads, and repaired the tribe's houses.
Their small hands were covered with calluses from hard work.
They can only participate in the women's hunt when they are big enough and their calluses are deep enough to allow them to hold the hunting knife without cutting themselves.
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