MLMD -Chapter 63 Daishan on the Verge of Spitting Blood

“Young Master, the sheep is right ahead! Let’s charge over—once we grab that sheep, everything will be settled!” Hu Laosan, who was rushing at the very front, pointed ahead and shouted loudly.

“Good, let’s hurry!” Yue Yang was excited as well. To him, as long as he seized that sheep, Hailanzhu would be his for sure. And once Hailanzhu became his wife, he would no longer have to worry about warhorses when forming cavalry in the future.

Suddenly, Shunbao shouted, “Young Master, be careful!”

Bang—

A dull thud sounded. Shunbao, who had been guarding Yue Yang’s right side, was knocked aside together with his horse. If he hadn’t clutched the horse’s neck tightly, he would have been smashed to the ground long ago.

Yue Yang turned toward the sound and was startled out of his wits. At some point, Ao Bai and two Later Jin riders had already rushed up beside them. The collision just now was Ao Bai’s handiwork.

After ramming Shunbao aside, Ao Bai charged toward Yue Yang with a ferocious grin and shouted, “You Ming dog surnamed Yue! Yesterday that old man Zaisang sheltered you and let you escape. But today is the sheep-snatching contest—I want to see who can save you now!”

Ao Bai prided himself on his ferocity. In past battles against the Ming army, he had won far more than he had lost, which bred in him a habit of despising the Ming troops. But over the past two days, Yue Yang had repeatedly called him a “Jian slave,” something he regarded as a great humiliation. Once he learned that Yue Yang was also participating in the sheep-snatching contest, he swore to take Yue Yang’s life.

Seeing Ao Bai charging at him like a mad dog, Yue Yang was shocked. He knew his own abilities well—his horsemanship was terrible. If he were to duel Ao Bai, who rode as naturally as breathing, even five of him tied together wouldn’t be a match. So the moment he saw Ao Bai rushing over, he clenched his teeth and spurred his horse forward at full speed.

“Where do you think you’re running!”

Seeing Yue Yang fleeing desperately, Ao Bai sneered, squeezed his legs against his horse’s belly, and chased after him.

Yue Yang’s sorry escape naturally didn’t escape Zaisang’s eyes, who had been paying attention to him all along. Zaisang frowned slightly, then turned to Daishan beside him with a faint smile.
“Great Beile, in the sheep-snatching contest everyone else is chasing the sheep, but Ao Bai here is chasing a man instead. This truly opens my eyes—so the contest can be played like this as well!”

Though Zaisang spoke with a smile, his words were thick with sarcasm. How could Daishan not hear it? He smiled too. “There’s nothing we can do. Ao Bai serves by the Great Khan’s side—whatever he does, he must have his reasons. Besides, that Yue Yang, that Ming dog, has repeatedly insulted our Jurchen warriors. Ao Bai wanting to teach him a lesson is perfectly understandable.”

Hailanzhu, however, could no longer stand listening. As the saying goes, a girl’s heart turns outward. Though she had met Yue Yang only once, she knew that since her father had already made his decision—and since she herself felt rather well disposed toward Yue Yang—her marriage to him was essentially settled. Naturally, her heart had begun to tilt toward Yue Yang. Hearing others speak this way about her future husband made her uncomfortable, and she couldn’t help but sneer.

“Oh? Is that so? I heard my father say that Great Beile Daishan came this time to propose marriage on behalf of my uncle—who is also my future brother-in-law. Did I hear wrong? Or do you think killing a Han man is more important than proposing marriage for your Great Khan?”

“I…”

Daishan hadn’t expected this seemingly forthright woman to be so sharp-tongued. For a moment, he was left speechless.

“Hailanzhu, do not be rude to Great Beile Daishan!” Zaisang scolded her sternly, then hypocritically turned to Daishan and said, “Great Beile, my daughter has been impolite—please forgive her. But what she says isn’t without reason. Look, the sheep-snatching contest is so intense, yet only your men are chasing a Han man. This… this really is inappropriate!”

“Hmph!”

Daishan snorted heavily, hot breath bursting from his nose—a clear sign of how furious he was. To say he wasn’t angry would be a lie. In his heart, he had already cursed Ao Bai’s ancestors eighteen generations back dozens of times. Ever since meeting that merchant surnamed Yue, Ao Bai had caused trouble repeatedly, constantly changing the plans Daishan had laid out and putting him in awkward positions. If Ao Bai had belonged to the Bordered Red Banner, Daishan would have chopped off his head long ago.

In the end, Daishan could only turn his head away under the pretext of watching the contest. But this glance nearly scared him half to death. He discovered that Yue Yang, who had just been fleeing from Ao Bai, had somehow run to the very front of the pack—and in his arms he was holding the goat that everyone had been fighting over.

“What is going on? That brat Yue can barely stay on his horse—how did he get the goat? Are all those Mongols blind?” Seeing this, Daishan was so angry he nearly jumped up.

In fact, not only Daishan— even Yue Yang himself was a little dazed at this moment. While fleeing for his life earlier, he had unknowingly reached the front of the group. At some point, more than a dozen Mongol riders who had been fiercely struggling over the goat also happened to ride up beside him. For some inexplicable reason, the goat they had been snatching back and forth flew straight toward him.

Yue Yang naturally wouldn’t let such a windfall slip by. Even though he was still running for his life, he was more than happy to scoop up some profit along the way. Grabbing the goat that had fallen from the sky, he urged his horse forward with all his might toward the viewing stand. As long as he reached the stand and dropped the goat in front of Zaisang, the contest would be his.

Just as Yue Yang was being struck by this heavenly pie, someone was displeased—Ao Bai. He immediately wheeled his horse and charged toward Yue Yang.

Ao Bai, who had been chasing Yue Yang the whole time, was practically driven mad with rage. He couldn’t understand it—by all logic, Yue Yang’s riding was terrible and the horse beneath him was nothing special. Yet after chasing all this way, he still couldn’t catch up. Every time he was about to overtake Yue Yang, several Mongol riders would suddenly appear in front of him, interfering with his line of sight or deliberately blocking his path, forcing him to detour and allowing Yue Yang to escape again and again.

Now, seeing Yue Yang luck into the championship goat, Ao Bai finally remembered his main task for the day and immediately grew anxious. He turned back and barked at the two riders behind him, “You two dogs, listen carefully! You must catch that Ming dog and seize the goat. If anyone dares to block you, knock them off their horses—understand?”

“Yes! This servant understands!”

The two riders responded in unison, immediately spurring their horses and splitting to either side as they chased Yue Yang. Sure enough, several Mongol riders soon rode toward them, deliberately or inadvertently blocking their path. But this time, with Ao Bai’s strict orders, the two Later Jin riders showed no courtesy. Without slowing or dodging, they charged forward like madmen. If that collision landed, it would be crippling at best, fatal at worst.

Seeing such crazed behavior, the Mongol riders were terrified and hurriedly pulled their horses aside. They were here to compete, not to die. With no one blocking them, Ao Bai and his two men resumed their pursuit at full speed. By comparison, Yue Yang’s riding skills were mediocre at best, and he was also carrying a goat weighing dozens of jin. Naturally, the distance between them rapidly closed.

When Yue Yang glanced back and saw Ao Bai’s ferocious face less than fifty meters away, he was scared half to death. He quickly lashed his horse again with the whip. The horse, stung by pain, finally accelerated.

But no matter what, the gap between a professional and an amateur was obvious. No matter how Yue Yang pushed, Ao Bai kept closing in, and it looked as though he would be caught at any moment.

At that instant, a thunder of hooves suddenly sounded from the side. Yue Yang looked over and nearly lost his soul—over a hundred Mongol riders were charging toward him. He reckoned that if they really collided with him, Shunbao wouldn’t even need to collect his corpse; he’d already be trampled into minced meat.

Yet something astonishing happened. As if struck by collective blindness, the riders deliberately opened a gap more than a man’s width as they approached Yue Yang, allowing him to pass straight through. Meanwhile, they blocked off his pursuers from behind.

Ao Bai and his men were dumbfounded. Earlier, when only a few riders had blocked them, they still dared to charge through on sheer bravery. But now there were over a hundred riders in front of them—charging in would no longer be bravery, but idiocy.

At this point, even the dullest observer could see it clearly. This was no sheep-snatching contest at all—it was a special contest prepared solely for Yue Yang!

Daishan could no longer hold back. Turning to Zaisang, he sneered coldly, “Beile Zaisang, I never imagined that the Khorchin tribe would also learn the Han people’s tricks of cheating and deception.”

But Daishan underestimated Zaisang’s thick skin. Zaisang immediately shouted as if to himself, “Oh my! Those little bastards—so many of them, yet they couldn’t even block a single Han man and let him slip through! They’ve completely disgraced our Khorchin tribe. When we get back, I’ll punish them severely!”

“You—”

Daishan nearly spat out a mouthful of blood. Couldn’t block him? You’re clearly escorting him through, all right? Do you really take me for a blind man?

At that moment, a wave of cheers erupted from the front. Daishan turned his head and saw that Yue Yang had already reached the area in front of the stand and tossed the goat into a pre-drawn circle.

The contest was over—Yue Yang had won.