Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Can’t a strategist ascend the throne? Volume 1: The Yellow Turban Rebellion, The Clear Voice of a Young Phoenix Chapter 4: I’ve Been Waiting for You

Book:


Can’t a Strategist Ascend the Throne?

Chapter 004

Dian Wei?

The current Dian Wei has not yet received Cao Cao’s evaluation of him as the “Ancient Evil,” nor has he completed the feat of killing someone in the street to avenge the Liu family of Xiangyi.

In the eyes of Liang Zhongning, who currently commands a “region,” this is a reckless man from Chenliu who, at the height of the Yellow Turban Army’s unstoppable momentum, has instead chosen to serve under the local strongmen. Now, relying on his own strength, he dares to come and provoke.

Isn’t such a person seeking death the perfect target for him to make an example of!

Moreover, the Tian family of Puyang has been rooted here for many years, and it is likely that they have a considerable amount of grain and gold and silver stored.

Although he has captured Puyang City, he has not yet breached the Tian family’s fortress outside the city, which is like a piece of fat meat not yet in his mouth.

Even before his subordinates reported, Liang Zhongning had a map of the area spread out in front of him.

The powerful families of the late Han Dynasty lived in clans, and the Tian family of Puyang was no exception. Their fortress was built ten miles outside Puyang City.

If it weren’t for the Han Dynasty’s lax restrictions on civilian swords and, more importantly, the discussions between Emperor Wu of Han, Gongsun Hong, and Wuqiu Shouwang, which also led to fewer restrictions on crossbows, resulting in the Tian family’s fortress being equipped with powerful modified heavy crossbows—

He would have already surrounded the fortress by now!

Now, there’s no need to hesitate.

On one side, there’s the imminent arrival of Bu Ji’s army, with its imposing presence looming over him.

On the other side, there’s a reckless man coming out of the fortress to provoke, who could very well be his breakthrough in conquering the Tian family.

Adding to this, the three fronts of the Yellow Turban battlefield are set in Guangzong, Yingchuan, and Nanyang, and the task of directly confronting the imperial army hasn’t fallen to him. Liang Zhongning, who prides himself on his considerable abilities, has been anxious for a month due to the lack of opportunities to achieve merit.

All these factors have led Liang Zhongning to deeply feel that, faced with such a heaven-sent opportunity, if he doesn’t seize it soon, by the time the Changshe army consolidates its victory after its initial success against Zhu Jun, he will truly have no place to use his skills!

“Bring me my spear!”

This is the decision Liang Zhongning made after considering Dian Wei’s name.

The next day, to avoid chaos in Puyang City, he left a portion of his Yellow Turban subordinates to guard the place and led his 500 trusted followers and 300 recruited Yellow Turban warriors out of the city.

Qiao Yan could only tell from her locked position that this Yellow Turban Commander did not seem to be staying put, but she couldn’t ascertain his latest movements.

However, she didn’t have the leisure to worry about what storms Liang Zhongning might stir up in Puyang City.

According to the system, although she is in a space that can be understood as a parallel world, until she creates enough butterfly effects, she can still rely on historical records as a basis.

Thus, Liang Zhongning wouldn’t die until August of this year at the hands of the Han Dynasty’s famous general Fu Nanrong. At least for now, she didn’t have to worry about him losing his life and wasting her tools.

Rather than worrying about that, she might as well worry about herself.

As she had guessed earlier, in the Yellow Turban camp, children around her age of about ten years old were not uncommon, so blending in wasn’t difficult.

Her dusty and dirty face made it hard to distinguish her gender, making her look no different from the others.

Moreover…

In the earlier battle to capture Juye, the refugees driven by the Moth Bandits formed a front barrier, resulting in numerous casualties. Even with the help of insiders in Juye City, one thing couldn’t be changed.

Combat—for a non-regular army like the Yellow Turban Army—was not a task that could be accomplished as if by divine intervention.

Zhang Jiao borrowed the methods of the Buddhist monastic community to establish his religious preaching, achieving a level of self-deification and mass appeal never before seen.

But among his disciples, few truly had the ability to command troops and arrange formations.

Looking through her disheveled hair at the line of people receiving food in front of her, Qiao Yan noticed that most of the children her age were alone.

This made her sudden appearance in the camp not particularly conspicuous.

But the reason was clearly that these children’s elders had perished.

Qiao Yan couldn’t help but sigh in her heart for who knows how many times, but her steps didn’t stop as she moved forward with the line to receive today’s rations.

With the current food shortage, the Yellow Turban Army naturally wouldn’t provide these people with good meals.

The cake she received had a more formal name: “qiu.”

It was made by cooking rice, mashing it with water, and then kneading it into cake-like shapes to dry into rations.

Although this method of preparation prevented the food from spoiling, it was far from the tasty rice crusts of later times, which were controlled in their preparation process. Instead, it was so dry that it was hard to swallow.

The only available water here was from the lake in Daye Lake.

Qiao Yan felt she should really thank the system for its newbie protection period.

Under the current circumstances, where there was absolutely no way to find a place to boil water alone, the effect of [being unaffected by environmental diseases during the protection period] undoubtedly greatly increased her chances of survival.

The Strategist System 068, a newbie, probably had a bit more conscience than Qiao Yan. It watched with a sense of guilt as its chosen host filled her stomach with dry rations and raw water without any complaints, and then huddled in a corner, listening to two young boys not much older than her talking.

The difficulty of swallowing the food caused a look of pain to appear on their faces, but perhaps the contorted expressions were more due to their barely concealed resentment and hatred.

The younger one stifled a sob and swallowed the last half of the dry cake, whispering, “Brother, I miss Mother.”

The older one could only pat his shoulder, unsure of how to comfort him.

Then the younger one continued, “In the past, Mother’s ‘jù nǚ’ was much tastier than this dry ‘qiu.’ On Father’s birthday, she would make white cakes with sweet fermented rice wine. But Mother… Mother and Father are gone.”

Now, only these two underage brothers were left to rely on each other.

But in the face of the threat to their lives, all the bitterness had to be swallowed along with the dry rations and raw water.

Such scenes were not uncommon under the massive Yellow Turban Rebellion.

The voices of the two brothers gradually faded.

Seeing a ripple in Qiao Yan’s eyes, the system quickly advised, [You really shouldn’t try to persuade these two to team up with you at this time. We don’t even know what kind of people they are…]

“Don’t worry,” Qiao Yan replied in a voice only she and the system could hear. “If I were in a high position, seeing this scene might move me, but right now, I can’t even guarantee my own safety. I won’t do something so foolish.”

Compassion and sympathy were luxuries at a time like this.

Qiao Yan was a sane adult who knew her own limitations and would never try to strike up a friendship with them at this time.

[Then you…] the system asked, puzzled.








“I’m going to do something bad.”

Qiao Yan said she was going to do something bad, but to the system, her face showed no signs of burden or emotion.

She first turned the ill-fitting clothes inside out, tied them into a shorter style, pulled her messy hair back, smeared another layer of dirt on her face, and after walking around the camp, she quietly stood back in the line to receive food without anyone noticing her actions.

[…?]

The system watched in a daze as Qiao Yan, without any burden, walked along the line to the person distributing dry cakes and… took another cake.

In ordinary disaster relief measures, methods like stamping relief tickets or shaving eyebrows when receiving rice are often used to prevent fraud, but such management is not easy to implement in the complex Yellow Turban Army.

Under such circumstances, it’s natural that some people would think of receiving double rations.

But just now, the system saw a Yellow Turban soldier stab someone to death, claiming they had come twice, and boasting about his skill in recognizing faces from distributing porridge to wealthy merchants, which scared a few people away from the line.

Now, seeing Qiao Yan make such a dangerous move, how could it not be nervous!

Wait, no, it’s a system, it doesn’t have a heart or guts.

As if sensing the system’s thoughts, Qiao Yan walked to a secluded spot, stuffing the rice cake into her clothes, and said, “Do you really think that food distributor can recognize people? He just picked a scapegoat at random. In fact, with a slight change of clothes, he wouldn’t recognize anyone.”

The only unfortunate one was the person chosen to set an example.

Whether he actually tried to receive rations twice is no longer important.

Because the dead cannot defend themselves.

He was chosen precisely because he was alone here.

Qiao Yan saw through the twists and turns clearly, but what she understood even more was that she currently had no power to change the situation. The only thing she could do was to make her own life slightly better, and then—

Continue with her plan.

She was still in the Juye Marsh, but after traveling for half a day, they officially entered the Dong Commandery.

Another half a day, and they reached the Huzi River.

In the past, Emperor Wu of Han built the Xuanfang Palace in Puyang, right above the Huzi Dam. Since then, the area upstream from the Xuanfang Palace has been separated by river embankments, leaving only ditches. This group of several thousand people could cross these ditches, which was much simpler than crossing the river.

Not far after crossing the river, the city walls of Yuncheng appeared ahead.

Zhang Bo, one of the three Yellow Turban commanders from Yanzhou, came from Dongping Fan County and had already taken Yuncheng, meeting up with Bu Ji here.

After the two forces joined, they continued westward, now with a combined force of over ten thousand. With Liang Zhongning having already captured Puyang, the county captains of Linqiu and Juancheng fled without a fight, surrendering without resistance, sparing the Yellow Turban Army two battles.

This was good news for Qiao Yan within the Yellow Turban Army, but perhaps not so good for the slightly wealthier families in these two cities.

Listening to the sounds of the Yellow Turban Army killing in the city, Qiao Yan’s face tightened for a moment, as if biting her teeth to restrain her emotions.

The system originally wanted to tease her, saying that if someone familiar with her saw her now, they would notice she had gained some weight, thanks to the extra cake she took each meal tied around her body. But now, it simply remained silent.

“Zhang Jiao is a very capable man,” Qiao Yan said after a long sigh, “but he forgot one thing. With interests at stake, the thirty-six armies fight independently, inevitably leading to lax discipline. This is not the way to save the Han Dynasty from collapse.”

The setting sun shone on a flag atop the city wall of Juancheng, and she gazed at it for a long time.

The system couldn’t read her thoughts and didn’t know what she was thinking. All it could see was—

Its host once again touched the dagger in her bosom, as if making a decisive gesture, and then took advantage of the Yellow Turban Army’s lax management during the city plunder to leave the group.

This time, unlike the previous days of tracking the Yellow Turban Army while enduring hunger, she had a few dry cakes hidden on her, enough to last her for two days.

In her sight, only the marker indicating Liang Zhongning’s location glowed faintly.

Where was Liang Zhongning?

Under the starry night, this Yellow Turban commander was fleeing with his remaining troops.

Before leading his men to the Tian Family Fortress, he never imagined he would face such a predicament.

That Dian Wei from Chenliu, whose name he had only just heard, was not just incredibly strong as reported by his subordinates!

He was a freak of melee combat!

Liang Zhongning’s spear had broken during his desperate escape, leaving only half a shaft.

For a general, having his weapon broken was almost as good as having his head separated from his neck.

During the two-day standoff, with the help of the Tian family’s crossbows, he hadn’t even reached the fortress before losing most of his troops. On the final day, he himself was nearly thrown off his horse by that fearless giant who grabbed his spear shaft.

Fortunately, one of his subordinates was quick-witted, decisively cutting his spear shaft with a long knife and taking on the “beast.”

If not for that, he would have died at Dian Wei’s hands.

But that loyal subordinate died on the spot.

Liang Zhongning, holding onto the idea that “as long as the green hills remain, there will be no shortage of firewood,” immediately turned his horse around and headed back to Puyang.

But his mood on the return trip was completely different from when he had set out.

When he came, he was full of hope for capturing the Tian Family Fortress, thinking it would be as easy as reaching into a bag. But when he left, he was in utter disarray.

Even though it was still spring, his face burned with shame, and the moonlight couldn’t improve his terrible mood.

When he noticed someone blocking the path on the high mountain road ahead, his self-tormenting bad mood undoubtedly reached its peak!

But before he could throw the broken spear at the person blocking the way to teach them a lesson, he saw their face.

The moonlight filtering through the trees on both sides of the mountain path illuminated the face of the person blocking the way.

To Liang Zhongning’s great surprise, the person was small, not because of any visual error in the night, but because it was clearly a child no older than ten!

A child who shouldn’t be here!

Though dressed in ill-fitting, tattered clothes, the child’s demeanor and expression had an air of nobility that set them apart from the common folk.

And this face, blurred by the moonlight, bore a maturity that didn’t match their age, along with a mystery that Liang Zhongning couldn’t fathom.

Just as he reined in his horse, facing his imminent anger, the child calmly smiled, bowed, and from the high ground, said clearly:

“Yan Qiao of Gaomi, has been waiting for the commander for a long time.”