As soon as the Dayuan army retreated, their camp’s remaining grain was stripped bare. This was Wu Yu’s doing; without even needing a reminder from Xin Yi, he had swept through like a whirlwind, scavenging everything until not even a scrap of sheep’s wool remained.
With grain in their bellies, the Beiyang army became like satiated wolves. Starting from Shangjin, they pursued the enemy in one breath all the way to the borders of Dayuan. During this time, they never charged the heavy cavalry head-on, instead using skirmishing tactics to strike at the light cavalry. The Dayuan army’s retreat was far from smooth; the Qiyan tribe continually intercepted the relief grain from other tribes in the vanguard, turning what was originally a tentative withdrawal into a journey fraught with difficulty.
Xin Yi pursued them relentlessly, determined to prevent them from reaching Mount Jianan.
However, at this moment, King Tang submitted a memorial for peace. His reasoning was that the people along the Jiangtang line were in a state of panic and grain reserves were insufficient; he feared that further levies on the commoners would make it impossible for them to survive the winter. Bai Jiu’s faction was the first to rebut this. Led by Xie Jingsheng, they stood firmly as the pro-war faction, with Hou Ke of the Leftist faction seconding their motion.
With the imperial court in turmoil, the time Xin Yi had to maintain his pursuit became unstable. This batch of grain had not come easily, and after this lesson, Yan Jueshu would certainly find ways to block the next shipment. Therefore, if Xin Yi could not break through Mount Jianan in one fell swoop, he would face the same predicament as before.
It was as if everyone reached a decision overnight.
They had to break through Mount Jianan before the spring of the coming year.
But unexpectedly, Arsleng seemed to have abandoned the idea of waiting for more relief grain. Instead, he consolidated his troops and retreated, smashing through the Qiyan tribe’s thin line of harassment and heading straight for Wanze to return to Mount Jianan.
The snow on the mountain peaks had not yet melted.
Xin Yi truly chased them all the way to Wanze.
An eagle from Mount Jianan glided over Wanze, then spread its wings to soar high, piercing the clouds with a cry as it returned to its nest.
The Beiyang army arrived two days late; the Dayuan heavy cavalry had already returned to the Mount Jianan military camp. Xin Yi leaned down to grab a handful of snow from the ground of Wanze, watching as the heavy hoofprints vanished into nothingness.
“If we had been just a bit faster, we would have met them,” Jibai Yue said, crouching nearby and examining the hoofprints closely. “He was in a great hurry this time, completely different from when he came. I suspect something has gone wrong within the Habugeqin clan.”
“The Qiyan tribe said that aside from the initial three times, the Tatar clan’s relief grain never arrived again.” Xin Yi watched the snow dust fall from his hand and looked up at the towering, long barrier of Mount Jianan, murmuring, “Perhaps he wants to return here to prove something.”
“After all, this is where he achieved his fame as the ‘Iron Wings of the Firmament.’” Wu Yu huddled wretchedly by his horse. “This is the place that can stop the Prince of Yan. Perhaps he feels safe here? No matter what went wrong with the Habugeqin clan, as long as the Jadaran tribe led by Arsleng maintains its prestige, there won’t be any major issues. Likewise,” he arched an eyebrow at Ao Yun, “your Qiyan tribe won’t be able to take back your territory or the throne.”
“This is the final battle,” Xin Yi said, standing up. “Once we pass Mount Jianan and the Qiyan tribe reclaims their lands, we will withdraw.”
“And what about the matters afterward?” Wu Yu smiled. “I don’t want to leave them to the capital to solve again.”
The group fell silent for a moment before Jibai Yue spoke first. “But that is not something Beiyang can decide.”
“What if the Crown Prince takes the opportunity to split our forces again?” Wu Yu’s smile faded. “Beiyang can fight wars, but we are not dogs for the capital. If Beiyang cannot decide what happens afterward, then what is the point of taking Mount Jianan? And what about the Prince of Yan? Who can guarantee he won’t be immediately ordered to surrender his command and return to the capital, only to have some fabricated crime hung over his head in a few years, just like Prince Ping?”
“Wu Yu!” Jibai Yue barked a reprimand. “Watch your tongue.”
Wu Yu turned his face away and said no more.
But everything he said was the truth.
What would happen after the victory? Once Xin Yi was recalled to the capital and his military power was surrendered, Beiyang would still be meat on the chopping block for the Crown Prince and his ilk, to be carved up however they pleased. Moreover, after this event, the fame of the Prince of Yan would rise again; would the Emperor be reminded of the old Prince of Yan?
If Xin Yi died...
Who else could Beiyang wait for?
Xin Yi flipped himself onto his horse. He exhaled a breath of cold air and said to Wu Yu, “Even if it is not something Beiyang can decide, it is also not something the capital can decide at will. Let’s go. Once tonight passes,” he looked toward the mountain peak, “tomorrow will be a hard-fought battle.”
The next day turned out to be clear and sunny.
The Beiyang army stood before Mount Jianan. Xin Yi watched the majestic eagles rise from the mountain again and heard the thunderous war drums of Dayuan, sounding in unison with the horns of Beiyang. His blood boiled, and his grip on Tiandao was three times tighter than usual.
“I’m a little nervous,” Ao Yun said from the side, wiping the sweat from his palms. “We’re about to cross over.”
“About to?” Xin Yi smiled. “I hope so.”
When Jibai Yue’s wind-breaking arrow shot straight through the Dayuan flag, both sides gave the order to charge almost simultaneously. The two armies met violently before the mountain; the color of blood tore through the clear sky, and the sound of killing shook the heavens.
Chiye charged into the enemy ranks as Xin Yi hacked and slashed from horseback. His heart pounded violently, as if he felt not only this overwhelming killing intent but also an imperceptible sadness. But this sadness vanished instantly upon seeing Arsleng. Chiye moved, and the opponent moved as well. The two men charged at each other with blades raised, colliding amidst the chaos of thousands of men and horses.
Slashing and screaming.
Blood and corpses.
Hoarse throats and broken blades.
Countless men clashed once more at the old site. The tragic grandeur of memory reappeared before their eyes, and the grievances of the past surged anew in their hearts. Both sides knew there was no retreat; they had to push their battle lines forward to protect their rear. This was the most unnecessary of struggles, yet the most intense of wars.
Xin Yi was trapped in the center of the slaughter, which felt as though it would never end.
After an unknown amount of time.
Arsleng stood on a slope, his blade planted before his feet, his horse dead behind him. As the dawn broke, he stood in the light, still looking like a spirited Lion King. He shouted magnanimously to Xin Yi, “I have waited at Mount Jianan for the wolves of Beiyang for six whole years! In those six years, I thought countless times: Xin Zhensheng is dead, and Xin Jing is dead too—died uselessly and miserably, died pitifully and tragically! I wandered the grasslands for many years just to leave a lifelong opponent at Mount Jianan, yet neither of them died by my blade. If I could never again wait for the little wolf cub capable of leading the Beiyang army, then I would not be able to close my eyes even in death!” He pulled up his blade and walked toward Xin Yi. “Little wolf cub! Come! Bring the will of your father and your elder brother, and die by my blade, or let me die by yours! Between me and your Beiyang Xin family, there must be a proper end!”
Xin Yi drew his blade and stumbled forward to meet him. He was panting, his mind in a daze. Arsleng, walking through the morning light, was equally unsteady. They had fought at the foot of Mount Jianan for an entire day and night. Both sensed that it was about to end.
The blades slammed together with a violent crash. Arsleng pressed down on Xin Yi’s blade and barked a question: “Who are you!”
Xin Yi gritted his teeth and heaved his arm up, shouting, “Xin Yi!”
Arsleng raised a foot and kicked him in the abdomen, then brought his blade crashing down. Xin Yi parried horizontally, seeing Arsleng’s eyes were bloodshot, and heard him ask again: “Who are you?”
“Xin Yi!”
Their blades clashed incessantly with a metallic ring. Arsleng asked over and over, as if this was the question he had been waiting for through countless nights: who would come, who could still be a lifelong rival? To see a supreme enemy die by a treacherous dagger was a grief no less than losing a soulmate. The Lion King had sat through countless nights on Mount Jianan, watching the sun rise and set over Wanze. He was growing older, the time he could hold a blade was growing shorter, and his loneliness was growing heavier.
Xin Yi responded again and again. The strength in his hands on the hilt grew stronger with every echo, as if his father’s hand was gripping his when he first taught him to hold a blade, or like the stubborn force under his elder brother’s gaze. Who was he? At this moment, he was Xin Yi, and he was also the dream of the entire Prince of Yan’s lineage as they watched over the frontier.
Xin Yi suddenly let out a cry, hoarse as if weeping blood. He said, “I am Xin Yi! I am Xin Yi of Beiyang!”
With a screeching slide, the blade sank into Arsleng’s chest. Arsleng’s blade slipped from his hand as he grasped Xin Yi’s hand. The corners of his lips moved as if to give this dream a smile, but his eyes were filled with sorrow.
“Xin Zhensheng.” Arsleng lowered his head and laughed, his hands trembling violently yet gripping tight. He said, “Finally... finally can—”
“Ah.” Xin Yi’s eyes stung with heat. He watched the eagle of Mount Jianan behind the man strike the vast sky, and said slowly and hoarsely, “You have finally lost.”
The Lion King was dead.
Mount Jianan was no longer an impenetrable wall.
The Iron Wings of the Firmament were broken.
...Xin Yi supported Arsleng as he slumped into a kneeling position. He gritted his teeth, but as he lowered his eyes, he began to sob.
The Prince of Yan had died in battle.
Beiyang had broken through Mount Jianan.
His family of loyal martyrs were all clean and upright, galloping across this world with honor.
Xin Yi sobbed, his vision blurred and hazy. The wind of Wanze stirred the stray hairs on his forehead. The sound of hoofbeats approached; he saw his father’s horse, saw his mother and his brothers. The grasslands beneath Mount Jianan stretched endlessly. They rode together at a distance far from him, looking as though they would scatter with a puff of wind, yet they were pressed tightly against his chest, allowing him to stand up and live on time and time again.
...Don’t go.
Xin Yi thought, but he could say nothing. He collapsed into the mud, gasping for breath as tears streamed down his face. The vault of heaven was vast, free of clouds or haze, calm and profound. Those things that were once within reach...
In the end, they would never return.
***
Glossary
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
垂天铁翼 | Iron Wings of the Firmament | Arsleng's title/reputation, literally "Iron Wings that Blot Out the Sky."
塔塔儿氏 | Tatar Clan | One of the tribes/clans mentioned in the Dayuan alliance.
扎答兰部 | Jadaran Tribe | Arsleng's specific tribe.
哈布格钦氏 | Habugeqin Clan | Another clan within the Dayuan alliance.
天道 | Tiandao | Xin Yi's saber; literally "Heavenly Way" or "Path of Heaven."
赤业 | Chiye | Xin Yi's horse; literally "Crimson Karma" or "Red Deed."
辛振盛 | Xin Zhensheng | Xin Yi's father, the previous Prince of Yan.
辛靖 | Xin Jing | Xin Yi's eldest brother.
