Chapter 993: Please Take the Head

The vassal king from Liyang, in his python robe, had previously carved a path through the army’s formation, charging directly into the heart of the 400,000-strong Northern Mang army. Prince Yelü Hongcai of Northern Mang, the nominal future ruler of the steppe, remained unmoving beneath the great banner, not retreating a single step. Far from showing any fear, his eyes blazed with excitement, much like a hunter at the annual autumn steppe hunt, watching a formidable beast slowly fall into a carefully laid trap. The more the beast struggled in its death throes, the greater the thrill of conquest for the participating riders.

For many years, Prince Yelü Hongcai had been largely ineffectual. In Beiting, the steppe nobles and the Grand Xiti viewed him as a mere puppet, considering him to be of average ability, utterly devoid of ambition or great talent. Many imperial relatives, frustrated by his lack of drive, even felt he disgraced the noble Yelü surname. Yet, it was undeniable that the young man, who inherited seventy to eighty percent of his late father’s looks, and who now wore the dazzling armor the former emperor always donned for personal campaigns, truly resembled a golden-armored war god on the battlefield, just like his father.

In his right hand, Yelü Hongcai held a delicate dagger, its hilt inlaid with several priceless jewels, gently tapping its scabbard against his left palm. He gazed into the distance, striving to suppress the turmoil within him, which made his angular face appear slightly rigid. This noble descendant of the steppe, who had long endured humiliation, continued to breathe softly, fearing that the slightest revealing sign from him might cause the martial arts grandmaster, who had risen like a comet across the land, to stop short and ruin his plan.

Yelü Hongcai instinctively narrowed his eyes, his emotions complex. While the Northern Liang King could be called "young," much like the Zhao emperor of Liyang, known as "the Home of the Central Plains," both a young vassal king and a young emperor were indeed undeniably youthful, being still several years shy of their thirties. But Yelü Hongcai was different; he had long passed the age that Central Plains scholars considered suitable for settling down and establishing a career—he was thirty-five! According to the remnants of the Southern Dynasty, there was a Central Plains proverb: "It's rare to live to seventy." He knew his martial arts talent was mediocre; he was far inferior not only to the handful of top grandmasters like Tuoba Pusa, Hong Jingyan, and Jian Qijin, but even to his peers such as Zhong Tan, Li Fengshou, and Tuoba Chunshun. Consequently, he was certainly destined never to reach the rank of a second-grade minor grandmaster, and thus would never enjoy the extended lifespan that came with body tempering.

Thus, half his life had passed without significant accomplishment. Aside from marrying a woman of prominent background at the Emperor’s behest and becoming a lifelong partner to someone utterly uninteresting both in and out of bed, he had little to show for himself. He remembered that at the time, nearly all the young scions of Beiting’s elite were waiting to mock him, expecting his consort to openly keep male companions. Yet, the Crown Princess, who had earned a two-character *ci* poetic tune title at Qijian Yuefu, had actually been quite well-behaved, always keeping to herself. She neither behaved like the unrestrained noblewomen who associated freely with eagle-like steppe men, nor did she try to entice talented scholars from prominent families among the Spring and Autumn remnants in Xijing, the Southern Dynasty’s western capital. Beyond this, it seemed Yelü Hongcai had no other noteworthy accomplishments.

To live to this point, as the dignified heir apparent to a nation and the future co-ruler of the steppe’s million cavalry, how truly tragic and pathetic!

Yelü Hongcai’s face involuntarily twisted into a grimace, his fingers clenching the dagger’s scabbard, and his veins bulging.

Finally, the young Liyang vassal king, of a different surname, did not disappoint him. He carved out a bloody path, then stood firm, holding his Liangdao saber. Although deeply surrounded by hundreds of thousands of troops, the young vassal king remained composed and exceptionally poised—likely what people meant by "like a jade tree in the wind."

Yelü Hongcai realized the jealousy in his heart was incredibly intense, like dry grass on the vast steppe in late autumn; a casually dropped tinderbox would ignite an endless, blazing inferno. Even though he knew the young man standing a *li* away was dying, destined to die, he could not suppress this emotion. For no reason, the Northern Mang Crown Prince suddenly craved the renowned Northern Liang Green Ant wine. He truly wished to drink his fill freely in front of this Liyang "favored son of heaven."

Under everyone’s gaze, the distinctively armored Yelü Hongcai squeezed his horse’s flank. The spirited Ferghana horse took a few light steps forward, moving him and his mount out of the shadow cast by the great banner. The Northern Mang Crown Prince laughed heartily, “What a formidable foe, Northern Liang King! If we weren’t meeting on the battlefield, I would surely want to clasp hands with you and speak of our joy. I, Yelü Hongcai, would bring out the steppe’s finest horse milk wine and drink with you, Xu Fengnian, until we both collapsed!”

Behind the Northern Mang Crown Prince were tens of thousands of heavily armored Kheshig cavalry. The two thousand elite imperial guards closest to Yelü Hongcai, having clearly heard his words, mostly displayed surprise. They evidently had not expected the Prince, who had a poor reputation, to exhibit such a magnificent bearing. Consequently, their gazes towards the golden-armored figure softened, shedding some of the blatant scorn they previously hadn't even bothered to hide. After all, the steppe Kheshig army held a more transcendent status than the Liyang Dynasty’s Imperial Guards, which successive Zhao emperors hailed as "the Emperor's Heavy Armor." Kheshig soldiers all came from the great 'Jia' and 'Yi' clans (representing top-tier nobility). This was naturally related to the relative scarcity of prosperous Han Chinese clans in the Southern Dynasty and the abundance of major clans in Beiting. In Xijing's imperial court, where Southern Dynasty remnants congregated, any descendant of the 'Jia' and 'Yi' clans, whom Northern Mang officially ranked highly, could secure a stable position, even if they were only minor branches with some talent. It was also not uncommon for people from 'Bing' and 'Ding' (lower-tier nobility) origins to hold important positions in Xijing. In contrast, in Beiting, whether in the central court's deliberations or the royal tent's 'ash-drawing' discussions (a traditional tribal council method), one almost never saw faces from outside the 'Jia' and 'Yi' clans. The reason why Yelü Hongcai (a name homophonous with the Prince's name), an old minister who had served three dynasties and was entrusted with the care of the state, remained standing through countless upheavals after the empress usurped the throne, was fundamentally because this old man—who either dozed off with squinted eyes or seemed lost in thought during every 'ash-drawing' discussion—held the loyalty of nearly half of the Kheshig army.

Murong Baoding, once proclaimed the foremost foreign relative, should have naturally taken charge of Baoping Prefecture, a crucial source of provisions and warhorses. Instead, he ended up slinking off to Juzhou, one of the lowest-ranking of the thirteen prefectures. This was undoubtedly due to the covert efforts of Yelü Hongcai and a large faction of "old Kheshig" members. Dong Zhuo’s rapid rise in the Southern Dynasty, ultimately granting him control of both military and political power, certainly required his earlier merit in saving the nation. However, marrying a woman with the Yelü surname was even more crucial. The Emperor’s exceptional regard for Dong Zhuo and his continuous promotions were surely, to some extent, an attempt to alleviate the intense conflict between the two great clans, Murong and Yelü.

It must be noted that for four hundred years on the steppe, with countless heroes emerging, the saying “He who commands the Kheshig army commands the steppe” has always held true!

The greatest contribution of the former Northern Court King, Xu Huainan, during a period of internal strife and external threats, was his full support in helping the current empress break this iron rule. He helped this woman, whose legitimacy was questionable, not only successfully ascend the dragon throne but also, unexpectedly, stabilize her rule, even before she had controlled half of the Kheshig army!

Faced with the Northern Mang Crown Prince’s grand words, the young Northern Liang vassal king, standing at the edge of the open ground, remained impassive. He neither uttered words of mutual admiration between heroes nor seized the opportunity to charge forward in one go. He maintained a distance of one *li* from Yelü Hongcai.

He had clearly broken through two thousand Northern Mang heavy armored troops, yet chose to stand still when unobstructed. This left both the Northern Mang infantry behind the young vassal king and the Kheshig army behind the Northern Mang Crown Prince feeling utterly bewildered. Had he finally reached the end of his strength?

Yelü Hongcai did not continue to ride forward. Instead, he raised the dagger inherited from Northern Mang’s founding emperor, pointed it at his own neck, and asked with a loud laugh, “Xu Fengnian! Do you have the ability to take this head from my neck?!”