Ye Wanshan, the man known as General Ironheart, earns his title from the people who admire his unyielding spirit.
"Ironheart" encapsulates his firm resolve and unshakable will that refuses to bend. Even when his beloved wife and daughter are captured by the Khitan and used as leverage against him, he does not waver. His family is torn apart, yet he never once thinks of surrendering.
Their sacrifice was justified if it meant ensuring the peace of his city and safeguarding its people.
But even with that conviction, the city still fell.
The Khitan's forces were too strong, their numbers too overwhelming. Despite his relentless efforts, the Ding nation was lost.
On the day Ye Wanshan ordered his troops to retreat, the truth settled heavily upon him: one man alone could not defend a nation or reclaim what had been lost. He could only wait for the reinforcements of the imperial army to march north alongside him.
And so, he waited for thirteen long years. Thirteen years of suffering, of torment that never ceased, only to be broken by the rhythm of his sword swings. With each strike, his resolve grew harder.
At long last, the opportunity he had been waiting for arrived: Emperor Shizong's northern expedition.
Donning his well-maintained armor once again, he rallied his Tigers in Chains and stood at the city walls, awaiting the main forces.
But to his shock, the northern expedition was called off midway.
How could this happen?
How could they just abandon the campaign?
His wife, daughter, and son were gone, and the people of the border city had suffered for far too long, yet the expedition was halted. How could they stop?
It was unacceptable. If the cowards hiding in the rear wouldn't march north, Ye Wanshan would lead them himself.
He turned his horse, his blade now aimed not at the enemy but at the very citizens of the city. A thick black cloud blotted out the sun, and in that heavy, oppressive silence, his face remained unreadable.
He had made up his mind: If sacrificing the lives of a city's people could restore peace, then so be it.
That night, no enemies came to the gates. Yet, someone saw the Khitan entering the city, and the cries of agony echoed through the city where Ye Wanshan had lived for thirteen years.
His iron resolve, once full of care, now turned cold and callous.
Later, retreating to the Qinghe Buddhist Temple in search of some semblance of peace, Ye Wanshan encountered a monk who spoke of crossing the Bodhi Sea of suffering to reach the blissful shore.
But he knows the truth: This sea of suffering is too vast, too deep, and he can never cross it.
