# Chapter 29: Antecedents — Boundless Territory
The Yuanliao army swept forward in magnificent force toward Liqi, while the Xiongzhou forces abandoned their armor and fled in disorder.
Several months passed, winter descended, and the Yuanliao army pressed on through rain and snow, relentlessly pursuing and striking with every step. Countless cities of Xiongzhou fell to Yuanliao in the span of moments.
The Yuanliao army finally halted outside Fengmu Fortress at the critical city of Guyao, and for the first time in history, sent envoys to persuade the King of Xiongzhou: if willing to surrender, Yuanliao would certainly preserve the Yang dynasty.
Inside the commander's tent, a man paced anxiously, agitated and waiting desperately for a response from Xiongzhou.
Zhongshan lifted the curtain and entered, urging: "It's so cold outside, have some hot water to warm yourself."
With a "clang," a soldier guarding outside suddenly heard someone inside shout: "It's scalding!"
Then, silence.
Zhongshan cradled Mancheng's face, nibbling and sucking at his lips. After a long while, he loosened slightly and asked softly, "Did it burn your lips or your tongue?"
Mancheng's irritation subsided, and he complained with嗔 tone, "Both burned. Lick them some more."
Zhongshan wrapped an arm around his waist and laughingly fell back onto the supreme commander's chair. "You didn't even blow on it first. How could you be so distracted?"
Mancheng smiled, but worry filled his brow.
Zhongshan blew warm breath on Mancheng's reddened ears, asking, "Are you really that concerned about Yang Daochun? What kind of person is he?"
Mancheng wiggled around on Zhongshan's lap, then turned to circle his arms around his neck, and said with mock carelessness, "A hundred times better-looking than you, a thousand times better at martial arts."
"Hahaha... I thought the only people in this world better-looking and more capable than me were you. How did another Yang Daochun appear?" Zhongshan laughed heartily, opened his mouth to nibble Mancheng's earlobe, and asked again, "And what about his skills in bed?"
Mancheng burst out laughing. "Ten thousand times more powerful than yours."
"Hahahahaha... I'll die before believing anyone could be more powerful than me..." Zhongshan laughed without end.
Mancheng shifted upward, hugged Zhongshan tightly, and laughed along.
Seeing Mancheng's mood improve somewhat, yet fearing he would only sink deeper into worry, Zhongshan quickly changed the subject. "By the way, I hope your nephew can wait until you return to name him."
"I barely know a few characters—how could I name anyone? Ai, what do you think I should call him?"
"If he's born in winter, just call him Dongsheng."
"Hahahaha... If you name like that, wouldn't I become Xiasheng?" Mancheng buried his face in Zhongshan's shoulder, laughing until his whole body shook.
"Wah, how wonderful! What an adorable name!"
The two dissolved into laughter together, when Mancheng suddenly stopped, frowning. "Zhongshan, my sister took contraction-inducing medicine. The child isn't Qian De's."
Mancheng had expected Zhongshan to be shocked, but Zhongshan only said calmly, "Is that so," as if he had known all along.
"Zhongshan!" Mancheng felt a flicker of panic surge through his heart, quickly turning to anger. He shoved Zhongshan away and shouted, "Cheng Zhongshan, it wasn't you, was it?"
Zhongshan wore an innocent expression. "It wasn't me! Even with ten豹胆胆胆胆胆胆胆胆—borrowed leopard gallbladders, I wouldn't dare!"
Mancheng relaxed slightly. "Really?"
Zhongshan put on his mischievous act, exaggerating dramatically, "Wronged! Heaven as witness! Sun and moon can testify..."
"Enough, enough." Mancheng was amused by him, wrapped his arms around his neck again. "My sister wouldn't even look at a ruffian like you anyway."
Zhongshan freed a hand to tickle and grope Mancheng's body. "Just for calling me a ruffian, I'll have to be a proper ruffian to you."
"It tickles, hahaha..." Mancheng struggled to escape, but Zhongshan's other arm held on tight.
Outside the tent, people heard the commander's voice again—but this time it wasn't a roar of anger, but playful shouting: "It tickles to death, let go quickly, hahaha... Wa, where are you touching! Aiyo, you..."
The voices faded. The soldiers wore knowing smiles on their faces.
偏偏在这个时候, an inopportune Left Vice General Taiqing Duan strode over quickly. The guard soldiers tried desperately to signal him, but he seemed not to notice, shouting: "General Xia!"
Inside the tent, the two quickly separated. Mancheng pouted, and Zhongshan scrambled down from the supreme chair, muttering to the side: "Taiqing Duan, you've got it coming."
Mancheng straightened his clothes, gave him a light kick,忍住笑 to sit in his proper position.
Duan, upon hearing Mancheng's permission, hurriedly lifted the tent curtain and entered, urgently saying: "General Xia, the envoy we sent has been killed."
Mancheng's expression instantly darkened.
Duan continued: "The Xiongzhou side has declared that they would rather die than submit to Yuanliao."
Mancheng's gaze grew vacant. He closed his eyes, moved his lips, but no words came out.
Under the command of the commanding general and the Guardian of the Nation, the twenty thousand vanguard battalion of the Weizhen Army charged ahead to open the path. The Wutao Army pressed forward in the center, sweeping in all directions, while the rest of the Weizhen Army followed the left and right vice generals to mop up and clear the rear. Like a tempest rolling waves, they surged directly toward Fengmu Fortress.
Mancheng rode at the very front. His demeanor was formidable, but his heart surged with an unprecedented desire to retreat and flee.
Because he knew: every second his horse ran forward was one step closer to that person.
That person who, several years ago, had dazzled and captivated him, had shared joy and passion with him, had doted on and pampered him—waited just ahead.
The Xiongzhou forces split into two routes, charging between the Weizhen vanguard battalion and the Wutao Army. One route blocked the latter to fight, while the other completely encircled the former.
A jet-black horse with a glossy shine stood before a river of blood, stood in this slaughterhouse, waiting calmly.
Upon the horse sat a man of extraordinary bearing and heroic magnificence, holding a long-handled axe-blade.
Yang Daochun!
Mancheng hastily reined in his horse.
Years had passed since they met. Now, a thousand emotions churned within him, except it was a life-or-death confrontation.
The two gazed at each other silently for a moment, until Daochun first broke the silence: "Mancheng, it's been years. You've grown much taller."
Mancheng did not respond. Instead, his nerves tensed: So many years have passed—will he still care for our old affection? When we clash with real blades, will he still show me mercy?
"Mancheng..." Daochun gazed at him with an infatuated stare. The intense love and affection from several years ago had not diminished in the slightest at this moment—instead, it had gained boundless, heart-wrenching longing.
Mancheng's face had shed its youthful innocence, gaining resolute fearlessness, commanding presence, breathtaking cold beauty, and matchless elegance that stirred the soul.
Mancheng, years have passed... yet you've only made me more hopelessly devoted, more willingly depraved.
I thought time could wash away everything. I never imagined longing would only accumulate more and more. At first, I thought those three months were a nightmare. But later, I discovered that beyond those three months, every single day of my life has been a nightmare.
My life seems to consist only of those three months I had you.
Without you, what kind of life do I have?
Mancheng raised his blade pointing at Daochun, lowered his voice, and said: "Your Highness, no more idle talk! Come at me on your horse! If I still cannot defeat you, then dying once is all I'll accept!"
Zhongshan, hearing this beside him, was greatly alarmed: Yang Daochun was Mancheng's only nemesis! Before the expedition, Peng Hong had specifically instructed him never to let Mancheng face him alone in single combat!
"Mancheng!" Zhongshan grabbed him, urging: "Don't go alone!"
Mancheng's eyes faintly gleamed with killing intent. He shook off Zhongshan's hand, gripped his blade hilt tight, and growled low: "Anyone who dares help—may the Heavenly King himself not protect their life! Cheng Zhongshan, if you don't believe me, try it!"
Zhongshan froze. Mancheng had already spurred his horse forward.
Daochun watched Mancheng rush toward him with terrifying speed, blade thrusting directly at his right arm. Daochun dodged sideways, caught the blade with his left hand swinging the axe, and Mancheng slashed horizontally again. Blade light flashed like golden coins scattering pearls. Daochun deflected each strike, only defending, never attacking.
Zhongshan, watching from outside the fray, broke out in a cold sweat: Mancheng was clearly holding back his full strength. Even if Yang Daochun's patience were limitless, he couldn't keep dodging forever!
After more than thirty exchanges, Mancheng only wished to wound him quickly, to avoid being forced to take his life.
Of course Daochun understood Mancheng's intent. An unnoticeable smile faintly curved his lips.
Mancheng, this life of day and night thinking of you yet unable to see you—I can no longer endure it.
Every day I've been waiting for this day to see you. Finally, it has come.
Today we shall have an ending! Let me never have to think of you again!
Yang Daochun suddenly seized an opening, swept the axe haft horizontally, and struck Mancheng's right shoulder with tremendous force. Mancheng had been certain Daochun wouldn't attack, had carefully avoided striking any vital areas, never anticipating this sudden reversal from defense to offense. His right shoulder took the full blow—his right-hand blade immediately flew from his grip, and his whole body swayed dangerously.
Mancheng flew into a rage: I was still cherishing old affection, yet you don't know what's good for you!
Daochun pressed the advantage, swinging the axe-blade like lightning in a follow-up strike.
Mancheng's composure shattered. He frantically grabbed for the reins sideways, but caught empty air. He hastily raised his left hand blade to deflect the attack—but he had already fallen from his saddle. Daochun lunged forward, grabbing Mancheng's collar. In desperation, Mancheng slashed horizontally at Daochun's mount. A bloody hole suddenly appeared in the horse's belly. The horse screamed wildly and threw off Daochun.
Daochun had anticipated this move. He顺势 pressed Mancheng down as they fell from the horse.
Zhongshan spurred his horse to rescue, but through the settling dust, he saw Daochun had one hand pressing Mancheng's left hand down, the other laying the blade across his neck.
Zhongshan's forehead beaded with sweat. His limbs turned to water: It's over!
Daochun gazed down at Mancheng, smiling gently. "Mancheng, you're still so domineering."
Mancheng knew he could only submit to being at his mercy now, so he stared in silence.
Then Daochun asked softly: "Mancheng, do you miss me?"
"Miss your mother's head!"
Daochun still smiled, as tender and passionate as when the two had shared sweet intimacy those years ago. "Mancheng, every day these years, I've been thinking of you!"
Mancheng had no interest in entertaining him, his mind racing to find an escape.
Daochun gazed at this merciless person beneath his blade, yet still couldn't help being intoxicated and enchanted by him, love surging like tides. "Mancheng, come be with me. Won't you?"
Mancheng paused, then coldly laughed. "How can you still be dreaming at a time like this?"
Though he had long anticipated this answer, Daochun was still in agony. Like a dying man grasping at straws, he pleaded again: "Mancheng, I've gone mad missing you! For your sake, I would abandon any glory or power. Mancheng, run away with me. Please?"
Mancheng remained unmoved, his face cold as frost. "I won't agree! What can you do about it? You have the guts, kill me!"
"Mancheng! Mancheng... I love you... I..." As Daochun spoke these words, he could no longer control his grief. Tears fell one by one onto Mancheng's cheek.
Mancheng's heart softened. He relaxed slightly and said, "Daochun, I don't want to kill you. Surrender. Stop opposing Zhangzhou. Don't make things difficult for me. Please?"
Daochun's pleading was filled with earnest sincerity. "I won't oppose him, as long as you愿意离开他. Be with me, and I will present Xiongzhou to you on a silver platter."
Mancheng's heart churned with turbulent emotion and pain. After a long while, he drew a deep breath, his voice cold as ice: "If I had been willing, I would have gone with you back then. Now I'm in your hands. Kill me, and you can take me with you."
Daochun's lips quivered. Tears poured ceaselessly. His face bore utter dejection and despair, his voice trembling: "I knew long ago—you would still say these words. Today I came, wagering my very life on you... though I knew I would surely lose, I had no choice but to try."
Mancheng didn't understand the meaning behind his words, but an unsettling dread rose in his heart.
Daochun rose and knelt, moving the blade from Mancheng's neck. He smiled at him, yet with boundless sorrow. "Mancheng, I won't make things difficult for you."
Mancheng, after knowing you, only then did I learn what love is, what pain is, what longing is, what hopelessness is.
Mancheng suddenly understood, shouting: "Daochun!"
With lightning speed, Daochun raised the axe-blade and thrust it directly into his own chest. He fell backward.
Mancheng stood as if petrified.
Above Fengmu Fortress, the sky collapsed with a thundering crash.
"Daochun?"
Daochun's eyes had already closed tightly. His breathing had stopped.
"Daochun, I didn't want you to die!" Mancheng's regret knew no bounds. Bewildered, he clutched Daochun's chest, where blood gushed unceasingly.
How many times had he pressed his ear to this spot, listening to his heartbeat?
How many times had he placed his palm here, feeling his passionate love?
Those warm, sweet three months together—Daochun was not the only one who could never forget them.
Mancheng uselessly tried to stem the blood flowing endlessly from his body. Tears burst forth in torrents.
Daochun! I did miss you! I really did miss you!
The Xiongzhou forces, seeing their prince had seized the enemy general, yet suddenly raised his blade to take his own life, were utterly bewildered. They didn't know whether to advance or retreat.
Someone shouted: "Kill them all to avenge His Highness!" Only then did the Xiongzhou army raise their weapons and surge forward with bloodcurdling war cries.
In this choking, blood-soaked air, whose arms embraced that trembling, limp body? Whose voice comforted that heart drowning in sorrow?
"Mancheng! Stop crying..." Ignoring the slaughter raging around them, Zhongshan threw down his weapons and tightly embraced Mancheng. "Mancheng... your crying is shattering my heart..."
Mancheng struggled in his arms, extending bloodied hands, hoping in vain to restore Daochun's heartbeat.
Zhangzhou, why must you make me suffer so!
How much ambition do you have? How much desire?
This Xiongzhou always makes me recall the fragments Daochun told me about it.
Now that Daochun is gone, what meaning does it hold for me anymore?
Daochun... I will make all of Xiongzhou... go keep you company.
Mancheng pushed Zhongshan away. Tears still streamed down his face, but killing intent blazed in his eyes. He raised his blade toward the Xiongzhou army.
Zhongshan saw Mancheng's lips move. Though in the din of battle cries he couldn't hear a thing, he knew Mancheng was saying: "Let them all go... to accompany Daochun in death."