Li Dingguo, the Loyal Son of the Great Ming

When the grasses bowed as the Qing swept south, a man of great righteousness put aside suspicion as the Prince emerged from Yunnan. He fought thousands of miles in every direction, and with one hand held up half the realm. Zhuge's death could not prolong the Han, while Wumu could not bear to stop at Zhuxian. In times of upheaval, loyalty shines amid the stench of bloodshed, and generation after generation sings the praises of the worthy. His solitary loyalty stood firm, his resolve unshaken, as he held a single branch and tried to prop up the heavens. Men still remember the battlefield at Mopan, where will-o'-the-wisps gleam as bright as the sun. The grass and trees before Laocao Slope are fragrant, and the tombs of the Mopan generals stand in solemn dignity. After reading the broken inscription, I call out to the heroic spirits: in life and death alike, all followed Prince Li.

Li Dingguo is a name unknown to most Chinese. A lifetime spent at war, twice defeating princes, thirty years enduring every setback without surrender, and eight thousand miles of soaring ambition. Those who praise him say he returned to the righteous cause; those who condemn him call him the lingering poison of the rebel Zhang Xianzhong. How could they know that a true hero's noble spirit serves neither one dynasty nor one surname?

This time, I will write no transmigration, no rebirth, no romantic entanglements, no affairs of the heart. I will write about the real Li Dingguo.