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In the fourteenth year of the Orthodox reign of the Ming Dynasty, at Yanghe Pass in Datong, Shanxi, forty thousand border troops of Datong were routed by the Oirat cavalry, their defeat as overwhelming as a collapsing mountain.

Amidst the chaos, Guo Jing, the eunuch governor of Datong who had served through four reigns, found himself surrounded by mounted Oirat warriors hacking and slashing, while Ming soldiers wailed and fled in panic. The tide of defeat was irrevocable, beyond any hope of reversal. Despair flooded his heart—he thought only of finding a rope to end his life, but in the urgency of the moment, where could one find such a thing? The trusted men he had brought from Datong were either scattered amid the rout or had abandoned him to save their own skins; not a single loyal soul remained at his side. In his helplessness, Guo Jing could only pick up a bloodstained long blade from the ground, his hands trembling as he raised it to his throat.

Though Guo Jing was timid, lacking in great ability, and terribly afraid of death, his heart beat with unwavering loyalty to his sovereign. He knew he must not become a captive of the Oirat; he had to end his life quickly. Since the founding of the dynasty, never had a eunuch governor been taken prisoner. He must not become the first. He could not disgrace the emperor, nor could he bring shame to the Ming.

Today, at Yanghe Pass, would be his tomb—a place where he, Guo Jing, would lay down his life for his country.

“Your Majesty, this old servant takes his leave!”

The shouts of the Oirat grew ev