63. The Orphan of the Crown Prince of Eastern Yue

On the night Zeng Shunqin arrived at the camp, he went to the kitchen to fetch water for washing up. Coincidentally, Nangong Mingchen was there as well. Seeing Zeng Shunqin wince slightly as he carried the water, Nangong Mingchen, who was exceptionally perceptive, quietly asked around among those who had interacted with him and learned that he was indeed using medicine for wounds.

He combined this knowledge with the reports from his spies and formed a suspicion, but he feigned ignorance so as not to alert him.

Nangong Mingchen looked at Zeng Shunqin. "You are an old friend of the Crown Prince. I shouldn’t doubt you. But you’re unlucky. You came from Qingzhou and happened to have a run-in with my spies. Those two wounds—I'm more than familiar with them." He knew his own spies’ blades well.

Zeng Shunqin was momentarily speechless. He had indeed encountered two inconspicuous men on his journey. While sharing a room at an inn, there was no trouble at first.

But the inn’s young attendant happened to witness him meeting his contact. To ensure the plan went smoothly, Zeng Shunqin chose to silence the witness, but was wounded by the two sword-wielding men during the attempt. Though his companion managed to kill the attendant, Zeng Shunqin was gravely injured in the fight.

He hadn’t expected those two to be Nangong Mingchen’s spies. Truly, his luck was poor.

At this moment, Zeng Shunqin cursed his ill fortune, his face fierce. "Your Highness, today I was careless, and now I’ve fallen into your hands. Life and death are fate. Deal with me as you will."

Fu Lanchen’s heart trembled; he shook his head and asked, "Brother Zeng, you are a citizen of Great Yi. Why, at the time of war, would you disregard the lives of our soldiers and burn our provisions? Who instructed you?"

Zeng Shunqin clamped his mouth shut, refusing to speak, his expression resolute and ready for death.

Nangong Mingchen’s smile was refined, his bearing like jade. "Ah, the Zeng family of Qingzhou. The famed Blade in a Flash."

"Young Master Zeng, you were born and raised in Qingzhou. Why betray your homeland for a blood relative, and turn to the murderer of your own father?"

Zeng Shunqin’s face turned ashen; he looked at Nangong Mingchen in disbelief.

Everyone present, upon hearing this, felt their blood surge, as if struck by a heavy blow.

Father’s murderer? Recognizing a traitor as kin? Betraying one’s country?

Fu Lanchen’s mind was in turmoil. From the depth of Nangong Mingchen’s smile, he knew Zeng Shunqin’s background was anything but simple.

As expected, Nangong Mingchen waved a piece of bright yellow cloth in his hand and laughed merrily. "Twenty-five years ago, the Emperor of Great Yue’s legitimate eldest son, Crown Prince Dongling Yingrao, was gifted, wise, and virtuous. Yet, because of a witchcraft scandal, he angered his father and was deposed. With nowhere to appeal, Prince Yingrao ended his life in disgrace at the palace gates. And you, Young Master Zeng… twenty-five years ago, still unborn, carried in Prince Yingrao’s concubine’s womb, were swept into disaster and ended up in the Zeng family of Qingzhou."

"Tell me, am I right? Dongling… Shunqin!" With that, Nangong Mingchen turned gracefully, casting a backward glance at Zeng Shunqin’s dead-fish eyes.

With Nangong Mingchen’s detailed account, Zeng Shunqin no longer argued. "Yes, my surname is Dongling. My father was the Crown Prince of Great Yue."… The dead, deposed prince.

Nangong Mingchen walked between Fu Lanchen and Qu Zhe, cupping his hands and smiling. "Your Highness, General, the royal heir of Great Yue is here. I have fulfilled my task."

Fu Lanchen and Qu Zhe were stunned; Chen Kun and Guan Yulong exchanged glances, hardly daring to breathe, secretly intimidated by the amiable young Marquis.

During the army’s rest, Fu Lanchen had been racking his brain over how to take Yuzhou. Supplies were replenished, soldiers had successfully camped outside Yuzhou’s walls, and morale was high.

Twelve thousand soldiers of Great Yi’s eastern border lay in wait. Great Yue boasted nearly ten thousand troops as well.

Inside Fu Lanchen’s tent, he was studying the marching routes. Nangong Mingchen entered, glanced at the map, and chuckled softly. "General Qu seems to have Yuzhou well in hand."

Fu Lanchen sighed, "The General is ever victorious, but I am not."

Nangong Mingchen hurriedly waved his hand. "Nor am I."

The two of them—one a Crown Prince, one a Marquis; one adept at pleasure, the other at intrigue—differed in background and ambition. Yet both were equally unfamiliar with the battlefield of Liaodong. Neither had expected to one day struggle for survival and their future amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Because the King of Liaodong waged war against Great Yue, Fu Lanchen was thrust onto this battlefield by imperial command. He was forced to grow rapidly, not daring to slacken for a moment. As heir, his orders held the lives of countless soldiers.

Fu Lanchen never admitted to anyone that he rarely slept through the night, always waking in alarm. He dared not use too much calming incense, fearing he’d sleep too soundly and miss something crucial.

During daytime councils, he never relaxed, lest he say something wrong, offer bad advice, and give the generals or feudal lords cause to slacken, making them think the young ruler is easily deceived. He was a young, inexperienced man, his reputation recently in tatters.

But as Crown Prince, holding the border, he was the face of the royal family.

His own reputation meant little, but he dared not lose the royal face.

As for Nangong Mingchen, his family needed him to forge a new path for the Nangong clan. Outwardly, the Nangongs seemed prosperous, but only a few insiders knew that without change, the family faced ruin.

He himself needed to accumulate merit. Otherwise, the marquisate would never pass to an illegitimate son.

He suddenly realized that he, Fu Lanchen, and Zeng Shunqin were all of the same kind.

He hated the Nangong family, hated his father’s neglect of his mother and himself, yet he still acknowledged his bloodline as Nangong. When the King of Ningdu asked him to come to Liaodong, he agreed without hesitation.

Fu Lanchen hated imperial power and his father the emperor, but he always remembered he was a Fu. To fight and defend the border was the unbreakable duty of the Fu family. He’d lived recklessly, neglected politics, but his bottom line remained: Great Yi’s lands must never be invaded. So he came to Liaodong without hesitation.

Zeng Shunqin hated Great Yue, hated the emperor who killed his father, but he still remembered his true surname and was willing to die for Great Yue.

How strange humans are!

The Yi army camped five kilometers from Yuzhou, thirty thousand troops as vanguard, fifty thousand as main force, forty thousand guarding the camp as rear.

Every eight hundred meters outside Yuzhou, the Yi army built sturdy wooden watchtowers, each six to eight meters high, for long-range attacks on enemy soldiers atop the city walls.

Today, the east wind favored battle.

Nangong Mingchen, clad in silver armor and holding a long sword, stood focused in the first row of the watchtower, with a dozen armored soldiers bearing bronze shields behind him.

He watched as Fu Lanchen, astride a fine horse, led ten thousand troops to the frontlines, Qu Zhe unable to restrain him. Seeing this, the two sons of the King of Liaodong refused to be outdone, riding forward to fight alongside the Crown Prince.

Both sides fought fiercely. Though the Yi army held the advantage, casualties were still high.

Especially as a row of master archers was stationed atop the enemy walls, each a crack shot.

Already, dozens of Yi soldiers had been wounded or knocked from their horses by arrows.

A young soldier nearby shouted anxiously, "I’ve always heard the warriors of Great Yue are unmatched in archery. Today, it’s proved true. We’re in trouble now!"

Nangong Mingchen shot him a cold glare and barked, "Foolish boy! Who taught you to boost the enemy’s morale and dampen our own?"

The young soldier knelt hurriedly, begging forgiveness. "Forgive me, Marquis, I spoke out of turn in my panic." The others silently sweated, grateful that Nangong Mingchen did not press further, only saying coldly, "If there’s a next time, I’ll punish you for disturbing the army’s spirit."

Disturbing the troops’ morale could mean beheading.

The young soldier was so terrified his back was drenched, hastily promising, "I’ll never make the mistake again. Thank you for your mercy."

Nangong Mingchen handed his sword to the soldier on his left, instructed the one on his right to bring him a great bow.

The soldier obeyed, offering his own bow, and, seeing Nangong Mingchen’s slender build and elegant face, kindly warned, "Marquis, the bow is strong. Please be careful."

Nangong Mingchen sneered, swiftly nocked a golden-feathered arrow, looked out over the battlefield, and loaded three arrows at once, aligning his right eye with the enemy commander at the center of the wall.

As the war drums sounded anew, Nangong Mingchen drew and fired, three arrows at once.

The sharp-eyed soldiers cried out, for they saw two arrows strike the enemy commander’s chest and throat, while the third pierced their banner atop the tower.

The soldier who’d handed over the bow recovered and immediately knelt, begging forgiveness. "I was blind, not realizing the general is a master archer." He’d even switched from Marquis to General, his ability to adapt faster than seasoned courtiers.

Nangong Mingchen watched the arrow’s flight intently, not immediately lowering the bow, but upon hearing the soldier’s words, he finally did.

He solemnly replied, "I am far from a general. I only wish to do what little I can."

The enemy commander’s death shook both sides. Nangong Mingchen continued shooting under cover from his men, until every arrow on the watchtower was spent and the battle drew to a close.

The Yi army decisively defeated the Yue forces, marking a glorious achievement for Fu Lanchen and Nangong Mingchen.

Back at camp, Nangong Mingchen’s legendary archery quickly spread. After resting, Fu Lanchen was the last to hear of it.

He knew Nangong Mingchen could kill, had seen him dispatch foes with a single, precise stroke. Now he learned of his new skill.

He teased, "Impressive, Marquis Gongmin. You’ve made me… see you in a new light!"

Nangong Mingchen retorted, "Since Your Highness is so impressed, I mustn’t disappoint. But truly, our Yi soldiers need to match the Yue in archery."

The people of Yue lived by riding and hunting; all were martial. Liaodong and Yue were neighbors, and the locals were skilled at hunting, but the authorities focused on swords, spears, and polearms, neglecting archery in military training. Thus, they lagged in long-range combat.

Fu Lanchen realized this, and after settling down, declared, "After this, I’ll speak with General Qu and the King of Liaodong. Our troops suffered, but they’ll learn from it."

Nangong Mingchen said no more and returned to his tent to prepare for dinner. While he anticipated his meal, General Qu Zhe was already planning a night raid.

That night, General Qu Zhe led twenty thousand troops in a surprise attack on Yuzhou, setting out at midnight. Fu Lanchen waited for news at the rear. By dawn, the war drums thundered, and General Qu had captured Yuzhou, returning victorious without a moment’s delay.