Viewing the Vast Sea

With her stomach full, Yan'er contentedly rubbed her belly.
"Are you full?" Pan Yueyang followed her hand with his gaze, looking at her stomach.
"Mm. Yueyang, I'm so tired. We've been staying in the carriage these last few days, and my bones feel like they're falling apart." Yan'er smiled sweetly and sprawled onto his bedding, pressing her hands against it.
"What are you looking for?" Pan Yueyang came over as well.
"It's so soft—much softer than the carriage." Yan'er lay on the bedding with relish.
"Then loosen your clothes and sleep. Rest well." Rubbing her fine, soft hair, Pan Yueyang stood up to undress.
"Yueyang?" Yan'er stopped him as he was about to remove his armor.
Pan Yueyang looked at her, puzzled. "What is it? Do you want to help your husband change clothes?"
Yan'er, her thoughts seen through, felt a little embarrassed. "You’re so annoying!" But she still went over to help him undress.
She struggled to remove his iron armor. "This thing is so heavy. How can you stand it?"
"I'm used to it. Let me do it, little one." Pan Yueyang pinched her nose and easily took off the armor himself.
Yan'er felt a pang of sorrow. It was just as Bai Li Mubai had said—Yueyang had been raised from childhood as a weapon, a killing machine. Seeing him wear such heavy armor and say he was used to it… She remembered Mubai mentioning that Yueyang had gone to war with his father at sixteen, killing to survive.
Thinking of this, Yan'er suddenly threw herself into Pan Yueyang's arms, hugging him tightly. "Yueyang~" She rubbed her little face against his chest like a kitten, making Pan Yueyang's heart itch.
He cupped her face and kissed her gently. But the floodgates opened, and his passion surged uncontrollably. He gripped the back of her head, kissing her fiercely as if he wanted to merge her into his own flesh.
A soft moan escaped Yan'er under his teasing.
Pan Yueyang grinned wickedly. With a flick of his fingers, the flickering candle in the tent went out. He had no intention of letting those outside watch their shadow play.
"Shh, darling, keep it down," Pan Yueyang murmured in her ear, his breath hot against her earlobe, sending another shiver through her.
Yan'er wrapped her arms around his neck, guiding his head down to her body…
By morning, the weather was already turning cool, the oppressive heat of late summer gone.
Yan'er, still sleepy, rubbed her eyes and saw Pan Yueyang already getting dressed. She rolled out of bed. "Yueyang, let me help you."
Pan Yueyang's expression instantly darkened.
"What's wrong?" Yan'er was startled. Last night had been so tender, but this morning he seemed a different man. He changed his mood faster than flipping a page.
"Go get dressed," Pan Yueyang said, patting her waist.
Yan'er looked down and, mortified, dove back under the covers. "I was in such a hurry, I forgot I wasn’t dressed."
Pan Yueyang couldn’t help laughing. If they were at home, it wouldn’t matter, but here, in the army camp, if anyone else saw Yan'er like this, it would be unthinkable.

"Yueyang, are we entering the city today?" Yan'er began putting on her clothes.
"Just stay here," Pan Yueyang replied without answering her question, then lifted the tent flap and left.
"General!" The soldiers were already assembled outside, waiting for him. Though none dared speak, their spirits were high—clearly, a night apart from their general was like a newlywed reunion.
"Yueyang, you look energetic today, ha ha ha," Gu Yinhe teased when he saw him emerge from the tent.
Pan Yueyang's face turned grim as he looked at every soldier. "We're entering the city today. No one is to harm a single blade of grass or twig belonging to the people! You all know my rules!" As he finished, a soldier brought his horse. He mounted in one swift motion.
Everyone sobered up, their bearing imposing and disciplined.
Outside the city, Pan Yueyang raised his hand and the troops halted.
"Is that General Pan below?" the guard atop Moon City’s gate called.
"It is!" Gu Yinhe replied. So slow—why not open the gates already?
"Show your token!"
Pan Yueyang slowly reached into his breast, moving with great caution. He sensed something was off. "I left in a hurry and didn't bring it," he said, narrowing his eyes to observe the surroundings.
Gu Yinhe glanced at him in surprise. Something was wrong!
Pan Yueyang gave a cold laugh.
"You’re cautious, I’ll give you that. Since you know we’re Pan General’s men, allow us to report back and fetch the token to request the gates be opened!" Gu Yinhe signaled the minor commander, who was quick-witted and quietly ordered the main force to retreat.
Suddenly, a burst of cold laughter drifted down from the city wall above.
Pan Yueyang gripped his spear tightly.
"Who in all the world doesn’t know Pan Yueyang, the greatest general of Panlong, wields a spear?" The voice had a sly, dangerous edge.
"Most have already retreated," Gu Yinhe whispered to Pan Yueyang.
So Moon City had already fallen. The enemy closed the gate to deceive them, and the messenger probably hadn’t managed to deliver news of the battle to the capital before being intercepted. That meant the enemy had left Moon City intentionally, not advancing for a reason—what could it be?
Pan Yueyang weighed the possibilities: a classic trap, waiting to ensnare them. Truly devious.
"All troops, retreat to camp at once. Yinhe, lead the men away from here," Pan Yueyang commanded, staring coldly at the man high above.
Cloaked in purple, his voice a blend of wickedness, arrogance, and icy disdain. Though his features were indistinct, Pan Yueyang had guessed his identity. "Guan Canghai, the first battle commander of Tianfeng—your reputation is well deserved."
The man on the wall smiled faintly. "Likewise. I’ve long heard of the Pan family, a lineage of generals in Panlong."
He watched the retreating army and sneered, "So this is all?"
Pan Yueyang swung his spear, a gust of wind riding its arc. "Invade my lands and you die!"

"Ha ha ha, die? Then why have you ordered your men to retreat so quickly? Withdrawing before a fight?" Guan Canghai knew perfectly well Pan Yueyang had no intent to engage now.
Before he finished speaking, Guan Canghai’s purple figure leapt down at lightning speed. Pan Yueyang vaulted onto his horse—the man wasn’t eager for a full battle, just a duel with him.
Guan Canghai allowed no respite. The moment he landed, a bizarre martial move sent silver threads flying at Pan Yueyang. Pan Yueyang spun his spear, entangling the threads—the two were locked in a contest of inner strength. Their weapons, infused with qi, froze in midair, the silver threads soft yet deadly. Pan Yueyang’s spear kept the threads at bay with unwavering precision.
In this tense standoff, both men sized each other up. Guan Canghai gave a wicked smile. "I’ve long heard that General Pan’s spearwork is unmatched. Today, let me witness it!"
With a flick, the silver threads retracted like swords into their sheath, slipping from the spear’s tip. Pan Yueyang seized the moment, his spear splitting the retracted threads. Guan Canghai chuckled darkly as another thread shot from his sleeve, but Pan Yueyang flipped aside, dodging the fatal strike, and landed solidly, his spear driving into the earth with apparent ease—a feat impossible without immense inner strength.
Guan Canghai had suffered a minor loss. Although he’d seen Pan Yueyang’s second thread and redirected his attack, the force behind the spear was overwhelming. In that brief clash, his own inner power was shaken by the other’s pure, fierce qi. He realized a prolonged contest of strength would not favor his own, more subtle energy.
Seeing Pan Yueyang’s spear planted firmly in the ground, Guan Canghai smiled wickedly and sent his silver threads flying again.
He hadn’t expected that, though Pan Yueyang was famous for his spearwork, his true weapon was the flexible sword at his waist!
As the silver threads shot toward him, Pan Yueyang spun, drawing his soft sword. Both the threads and the sword were weapons of supple strength. The sword seemed to become part of Pan Yueyang’s body, flashing with countless rays of light, each attack aimed at the opponent’s weak spots.
The silver threads excelled at long-range entanglement, but the flexible sword was immune to binding. In moments, Pan Yueyang had closed the distance. The threads snapped back, and the next assault began. He attacked relentlessly, but could not quite reach Guan Canghai’s body; each time he neared, the man would withdraw, denying him the chance.
After several rounds, Guan Canghai could not help but admire him—such mastery with a soft sword was rare indeed!
When the man in purple began to retreat, Pan Yueyang did not pursue. The enemy had already taken Moon City but had not advanced further—there must be a purpose. He needed to return and discuss the situation with Gu Yinhe.
"Heh, reputations are never as impressive as reality. General Pan, you truly are a rare opponent," Guan Canghai said, withdrawing his silver threads into his sleeve with elegant composure.
"Thank you for yielding! General Guan, you are a man of great talent. In just a few years, you have become unrivaled in Feng Kingdom. I admire you!" Pan Yueyang thought back: at sixteen, he had followed his father to war, fought for twelve years before earning his family's recognition and his present rank. This enigmatic, dangerous Guan Canghai had suddenly appeared in Tianfeng, and in a few short years had risen to Grand General and Imperial Chancellor, unmatched in his realm! Now, with the battle for Moon City, he had personally taken the field. Once, with Pan Yueyang at the border, no one dared threaten Panlong; but since Guan Canghai’s rise, Tianfeng had harassed them endlessly, more brazen than ever.
"We have a long road ahead," Guan Canghai replied with a cold, faint smile—a chill more biting than Pan Yueyang’s own.
"I’ll be ready for you!" Pan Yueyang glanced at his horse—noting that today was only a duel between generals, with no further confrontation. The man clearly had no desire to linger. Summoning his inner power, he leapt lightly onto his horse. With a palm thrust, his spear, planted some distance away, shot up into the air.
A forceful burst of energy answered; Pan Yueyang watched his longtime spear stand upright in midair. "Heh, so General Guan is interested in hard weapons too?"
"I have some understanding," Guan Canghai replied, eyeing the eight-foot spear, its black-gold head gleaming coldly. "What a fine Panlong Black-Gold Spear!"
"Yueyang!"