Crown Prince of the Empire, I quit!

"Your Majesty..." His voice was heavy as if filled with lead. "At this point, Shenmu... no longer has the strength to fight, let alone the capital. Your Majesty was brave in the battle for the capital, but... the disparity in national strength was not the fault of the war. Now, the people are exhausted, the land is barren, and nine out of ten houses are empty. The young and strong have all died on the battlefield, and the women and children are starving. If you insist on resisting the heavenly soldiers... I'm afraid... I'm afraid you will be wiped out!"

He raised his head, tears streaming down his face, his voice tearful and bloodshot: "For the sake of the countless people of Shenmu, for the sake of the uninterrupted worship of our ancestors' temples... This old minister... This old minister, at the cost of his life, begs Your Majesty... to lay down our weapons... to obey the will of Heaven... and to beg for peace and surrender from His Majesty the Great Qian Emperor!"

The words "beg for peace and accept surrender" pierced Hua Yunhong's heart like the sharpest dagger. His body trembled violently, and he jerked his head up. A fleeting, yet terrifying, flash of sternness and humiliation flashed through his lifeless eyes, only to be swallowed by a deeper exhaustion and emptiness. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms, blood seeping out, but he remained silent.

Seeing this, the other ministers in the hall seemed to have grasped at their last straw and fell to their knees, kowtowed repeatedly, their cries and pleas blending into one:

"Your Majesty, I beg you to seek peace for the people!"

"Your Majesty! If you endure the humiliation for a while, perhaps you can protect the country and the people!"

"Your Majesty! The sacred tree cannot shed blood and tears anymore!"

Hua Yunhong's gaze swept across the faces of these former ministers one by one. Written on their faces were fear of war, despair for the future, fear of Qin Ming's thunderous might, and... resentment of the disaster brought about by the return of this failed monarch, as well as that last, bound hope.

Seeking peace?

Accept surrender?

To Qin Ming?

To beg for mercy and offer up his country to the enemy whom he had spent his entire life trying to defeat and trample upon?

Endless humiliation and unwillingness burned through his internal organs like a poisonous fire. But he knew better than anyone that what Yao Chang said was the cold truth.

The mountains of corpses and seas of blood in Asiniao Gorge and the disastrous defeat of the army in the capital had already wiped out his last bit of capital.

He could go mad and die, but he couldn't drag the last remnants of the sacred tree's old land into the abyss of no return. That would not only be cruel to the living, but also a betrayal to his ancestors.

He stood up slowly and with great difficulty, his hunched body looking extremely small in the empty hall.

He turned back again and took a deep look at the cold and magnificent Panlong Throne, which symbolized the pinnacle of his lifelong ambition and also witnessed the shame of his ultimate fall.

Countless complex and incomprehensible lights flashed in his eyes.

Fanaticism, calculation, glory, madness, despair... in the end, all turned into a stagnant calm.

He turned to Yao Chang, his voice hoarse and calm, yet filled with a heartbreaking emptiness:

"Draft...a letter of credence."

He paused, each word coming out with a painstaking effort, tinged with the taste of blood and foam. "In the name of Shenmu... the fallen king Hua Yunhong, and the remaining members of the royal family and ministers, we respectfully present this to His Majesty the Great Qian Emperor... Shenmu is willing to cease hostilities, abandon its name, and offer its territory in surrender. We only ask for Your Majesty's mercy, spare the lives of... the people of Shenmu, and give them a glimmer of hope."

He mentioned "the king of a fallen country", "removing the country's name", and "surrendering land".

The hall was instantly silent, with only suppressed sobs remaining. Then, there was an even more intense, emotionally complex kowtow:

"Your Majesty, Holy Might!"

"Your Majesty is kind!"

Hua Yunhong had no expression on his face and no longer looked at anyone. Like a puppet with its soul drained out, he staggered out of the hall step by step.

The blood-red light of the setting sun shone through the tall window lattices, slanting onto his hunched, lonely back, casting a long, twisted, tombstone-like shadow on the ground, and finally disappearing into the darkness outside the hall.

From that moment on, the so-called "peace talks" were destined to be a surrender ceremony with no equality at all, just to beg for a glimmer of hope for survival.

And he, Hua Yunhong, the hero whose name once shook the North, will eventually be nailed to the pillar of shame in history as the last king who was defeated and surrendered.

This may be the last thing he could do for this land and his subjects in his crazy and tragic life.

It is also fate, the cruelest, yet most realistic ending for him.

The desperate plea for surrender within Shenmu City failed to immediately calm the turmoil in the northern border. Hua Yunhong's return was like a boulder dropped into a lake that had been gradually calming, stirring up ripples of suspicion and murderous intent.

Beiting Protectorate, Meng Zhi’s tent.

This giant general, who was as tall as an iron tower, had a face so gloomy that it seemed as if water was about to drip out of it.

His sturdy fingers tightly grasped an urgent document from the "Council of State" in Shenmu City, which reported in the most humble words that Hua Yunhong had "suddenly appeared" and "requested to give up the country's name and offer land in surrender."

"Bang!" Meng Zhi slammed his fist on the heavy wooden table, shaking the pen holder. "Hua Yunhong! This lingering bastard! How dare you come back?! And even dare to ask for surrender?! He faked his death to escape, harassed the capital, and now that he's at the end of his rope, he thinks he's begging for mercy? How could such a thing be possible!"

He didn't believe Hua Yunhong had any sincerity at all.

In his opinion, this was just another cunning delaying tactic by the venomous snake, or even a vicious plot to get close to His Majesty and assassinate the king!

"Come here!" Meng Zhi roared, "Call the troops! I'm going to Shenmu City myself, drag that Hua Yunhong out, chop him up and feed him to the dogs! Let's see how he can behave like this!"

"General, calm down!" The deputy general beside him tried to dissuade him.

"Shenmu City is now under the rule of our Daqian, and Yao Chang and his men are considered surrendered subjects. They have officially submitted a written request for surrender. If our army were to resort to force without authorization, it would likely discourage those in the northern border from submitting and give them more reason to criticize us!"

"Are we just going to let that traitor linger on?!" Meng Zhi's eyes were bloodshot.

"General, should we...report this to His Majesty first? Please make your decision!" another staff member suggested cautiously.

Meng Zhi's chest heaved violently, and he finally forced down the boiling murderous intent.

He knew Qin Ming's character very well. This matter was of great importance and it was not something he could decide on his own.

"Eight hundred miles! No! One thousand six hundred miles! Report to His Majesty by flying horse! Deliver the documents from Shenmu City as well!" Meng Zhi gritted his teeth. "Also, send a message to all the military camps on the front lines: surround Shenmu City to death! Not a single bird is allowed to fly out! Especially that Hua Yunhong. If he dares to take even a single step out of Shenmu City, he will be killed without mercy!"

"Here!"

A cold military order swiftly resounded. The Beiting cavalry mobilized once more, silently tightening their grip on the sacred tree's former homeland like a black chain. A suffocating atmosphere of tension enveloped the northern border.

……