“Can strategists not ascend the throne?”
Chapter 16 – The Yellow Turban Rebellion, Rising Phoenix’s Clear Voice – Conveying News to the Han Army.
In Qiao Yan’s words, the surprising part wasn’t her name.
She had already revealed her identity in a letter to Cheng Li, using an inverted name as a pseudonym—which was nothing too out of the ordinary.
Moreover, the mutual understanding between her and Tian Tao had already hinted at her background.
It was like an inside joke among “their people,” and now they were just saying it outright.
What truly made the listeners’ hearts race was Qiao Yan’s emphatic last four words.
To leave a name in history!
Who wouldn’t want to be remembered in history?
The Han Dynasty awarded titles based on military merit, categorizing lords into five ranks by the Eastern Han period.
The county marquis and town marquis mentioned by Qiao Yan are the highest and lowest among these ranks, sandwiched between the district marquis, local marquis, and town marquis, creating a hierarchy of titles.
At this time, in Changshe City, the Middle General Zhu Jun had already been granted the title of Town Marquis for pacifying the Liang Long Rebellion while serving as the governor of Jiaozhou, overseeing 1,500 households.
When ranked up to County Marquis, one could even establish a state.
The implication in Qiao Yan’s words was crystal clear.
Though young, I had ambitions to contribute to my country and achieve great things. While facing the Western Qiang and Xianbei might not provide immediate opportunities for merit through repelling invaders, another opportunity was right in front of us.
It was the Yellow Turban Rebellion.
Currently, the Han army faced off against the Yellow Turbans from Yuzhou in Changshe, while the Yellow Turbans from Yanzhou, stirred up by Qiao Yan, were drawn to this place.
If they could free up this stalemate by using their strength against their enemy, they might even assist the Han army in pacifying the Yellow Turbans from both provinces. Who knows, they might be granted noble titles for their contributions.
If they could take down Bo Cai, this fierce Yellow Turban general, it would undoubtedly solidify their status as top contributors!
Even if the individuals in front of Qiao Yan were unaware, take Zhu Jun, a famous general of the Late Han, for example; due to his achievements in defeating the Yellow Turbans, he was elevated from Town Marquis to Local Marquis, and the following year—during the second year of Zhongping—he earned the County Marquis title for subduing the remnants of the Yellow Turbans. This didn’t prevent them from noticing the recurring pattern in recent years—an increase in promotions from Town Marquis to County Marquis suggested a revival of the old practice from the Guangwu Emperor’s time, rewarding merit with noble ranks.
Whether this was a desperate attempt at self-preservation by a dying dynasty or a balancing act amidst factional struggles, it was unnecessary for them, who were more like renowned families than true powerhouses, to explore.
The Tian and Xue families rose to prominence through commerce and lending, clearly needing a real name.
If before they saw cooperation with her as a form of regional self-preservation, now, with the temptation of titles laid bare before them, who wouldn’t be moved?
Especially young men like Tian Yan, who were clearly more impatient.
If today’s grand powers had subdivisions, the noble powers were at the top of the food chain, alongside the bureaucratic powers represented by the Hongnong Yang and Runan Yuan families; beyond Yanzhou, Tian Yan’s influence amounted to nothing.
Qiao Yan’s mention of youthful aspirations clearly hit a nerve with him.
Did he want to stand out? Naturally, he did!
So, the moment Qiao Yan finished her speech, he blurted out, “What do you need us to do?”
System: …
It couldn’t help but think that Qiao Yan’s speech was dripping with incitement, but behind the goal of leaving a name in history, undoubtedly would require the support of a death squad—wasn’t Eldest Young Master Tian jumping into the pit a bit too eagerly?
Yet even Cheng Li, standing nearby, didn’t make any move to interrupt Qiao Yan’s plan; neither did the System.
It was better to sit back and watch the show.
Qiao Yan showed no delight at Tian Yan’s hasty engagement and instead asked, “Do you remember when I had someone play dead beneath the walls during our assault on Tian Family Fortress?”
Tian Yan hesitated for a moment. “…I remember.”
When he had brought people over, those pretending to be corpses had already leapt up like wolves invading the fortress, but that did not prevent him from hearing about the event later from his second uncle, picturing the scene in his mind.
Although the assault on the fortress was for the greater good, to gain the trust of the Yellow Turban Commander, he had indeed suffered in prison for it; it was hard to forget.
Qiao Yan seemed oblivious to Tian Yan’s awkwardness and continued casually, “I want to have a few of you willing to play dead again as the Yellow Turbans attack Changshe. Then, under the cover of night, send a message into the city.”
She raised her hand, and Dian Wei handed out the prepared vs etters to everyone.
She continued, “But I must clarify in advance that attacking a city and raiding a fortress are two entirely different matters. Playing dead on the battlefield is not a strategy for survival; on the contrary, it’s even riskier than attacking with the army, as flying arrows or stampedes during a retreat can easily turn pretending to be dead into real death.”
When mentioning the word “death,” Qiao Yan was completely serious.
But her transparency about the current crisis and opportunity made the others feel a little less hesitant to withdraw.
History has shown that achieving success often comes at a heavy price.
Under the scenario Qiao Yan painted in just a few words, this life-threatening danger could not stop these people from seizing the moment.
If it weren’t for danger, how could one leap from the original social class and achieve noble rank and position?
The people present exchanged glances, each seeing the resolve in each other’s eyes.
Then, still led by Tian Yan, after receiving the letter from Dian Wei, he declared, “We’ll follow the teacher’s arrangements.”
Once the mobilization was complete, Qiao Yan watched them return to the camp but did not rush back herself, instead strolling at a leisurely pace through the fields of Yanzhou accompanied by Cheng Li.
Traveling from Puyang to Changshe, they conveniently passed through Chenliu. Located on the border with Liang Province, Qiao Yan reminisced about visiting this place despite her illness, felt a touch of nostalgia.
As she walked a distance, Cheng Li suddenly spoke, “Today I realize, you are not just skilled in strategy, but you also possess impressive insights into human nature.”
He was not someone tied down by conventions, and judging from his future career path, his actions under pressure in dealing with matters were far more astonishing than Qiao Yan’s; thus, his words were not laced with sarcasm but genuine praise.
Qiao Yan smiled at his words, “At my age, I still lack the experience to fully understand human hearts, but I once came across a book titled ‘Tactician’s Fragments’ in my grandfather’s study, author unknown. I still remember one line distinctly.”
Cheng Li inquired, “Please share.”
“Winning hearts involves reasoning, stirring emotions, demonstrating righteousness, and commanding awe.”
Cheng Li smirked, “But I observe your words seem to focus more on leveraging benefits rather than emotions.”
Qiao Yan replied, “Because the previous principles are meant for gentlemen, but in this world, gentlemen are scarce, so practicality lies in the latter—if you want to win their hearts, it’s best to cater to their desires. Master Zhongde would agree, wouldn’t he?”
Cheng Li nodded, “All things change but remain fundamentally the same; you’ve grasped the essence.”
Cheng Li keenly realized that Qiao Yan was not just provoking the local nobles into action but also understood the necessity of appealing to the Yellow Turban Commander; her methods with the troops reflected her sharp insights as well.
And it was the same with the lessons Qiao Yan imparted to Liang Zhongning during the march.
Considering “heavy troops,” she naturally sought military strategies; invoking established patterns now was a precise remedy.
Yet whether these methods were to ensure that the Yellow Turbans set up camp more systematically, thereby reducing the risk of disease spreading or had other purposes, Cheng Li observed from a bystander’s perspective.
As he pondered, Qiao Yan suddenly asked, “It seems Master Zhongde has something to say?”
“It’s not much, just wondering if your guidance for Liang Zhongning on setting up camp is what I suspect.”
Cheng Li candidly stated his thoughts, “The Yellow Turbans from Yuzhou and those from Yanzhou are both disordered forces; when these two chaotic troops meet, chaos will arise, unlike—this is the righteous, that is the disordered.”
“Indeed, what Master Zhongde said aligns with my thoughts.” Qiao Yan replied: “If this righteousness does not follow proper methods, just talking big won’t lead to effectiveness.”
Cheng Li responded, “Then I think I know how to add fuel to this fire.”
As soon as he finished, the two—one older, one younger, with a thirty-year age gap—exchanged a knowing smile, their expressions revealing uncanny similarities in cunning calculations.
That’s the charm of dealing with smart folks.
Not long after the troops passed Wei County, they entered the territory of Yingchuan.
As one of the eight counties of Yuzhou, Yingchuan had become a major region of the Central Plains by the end of the Han dynasty due to its geographical resources and transport hub status, and later produced a large number of distinguished strategists and advisors amidst the warlord chaos.
The Chen family of Yingchuan, the Xun family of Yingyin, and the Zhong family of Changshe were all shining examples.
Regrettably, Yingchuan now formed the frontline between the Yellow Turbans and the Han army, and this ancient capital city of the Xia Dynasty had fallen victim to war, temporarily depriving Qiao Yan of the chance to witness the “many extraordinary heroes of Ru and Ying.”
With Qiao Yan’s guidance, Liang Zhongning stationed the troops temporarily around Yanling, then sent someone towards Changshe to deliver a letter to Bo Cai.
Honestly, the significance of this letter wasn’t of great value at this point.
Yanling was already within the borders of Yingchuan; the Yellow Turbans from Yanzhou couldn’t easily retreat after reaching this place, even if Bo Cai felt perplexed by an additional force appearing, it was unlikely any opinions from his troops would sway him to drive them away.
At most, it would merely express that they had no intention of launching a surprise attack from the rear.
When Bo Cai received this letter, that was precisely how he perceived it.
This late notification seemed polite, yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling of something lodged in his throat.
After dismissing the courier, he fell silent for a long while, finally squeezing out two words through clenched teeth.
“Yanzhou…”
Before launching into Yuzhou, he had passed through it, having a rough understanding of the three Yellow Turban commanders at that time.
Zhang Jing, Bu Ji, and Zhang Bo all had some capabilities, yet nothing extraordinary, at least not sufficient to directly rival the great generals of the Han.
Otherwise, Yanzhou wouldn’t even have fallen to Bo Cai’s leadership.
But just a month later, the situation among the Yellow Turbans in Yanzhou had evidently transformed significantly.
Qiao Yan had Liang Zhongning deliver the letter to Bo Cai, covering only the basic content while allowing Liang Zhongning, who considered himself a “man of culture,” to handle the specific wording.
The letter that reached Bo Cai mentioned that, unexpectedly, only one of the three Yellow Turban leaders in Yanzhou remained, and within the casual greetings, there was a tone suggesting equality.
Due to the recent changes, Liang Zhongning didn’t realize the tone he had conveyed; however, Bo Cai saw all too clearly.
This was evidently not a competent ally but potentially a troublesome guest!
Especially with him currently holding the upper hand over Zhu Jun and Huangfu Song in battle; having an extra ten thousand troops wasn’t something to celebrate.
After a string of victories, Bo Cai was convinced of the truth in the Great Virtuous Teacher Zhang Jiao’s claim: “The decline of the Han dynasty has become inevitable; the Yellow Heaven shall rise!”
Thus, he hardly needed outside aid and could break through Changshe directly, capturing the two Middle Generals of the court as sacrifices.
Liang Zhongning was clearly here to divide the credit!
Bo Cai’s face darkened, but he couldn’t think of a way to compel these people to retreat.
He had a precise understanding of his troops’ fighting strength; those who couldn’t even get enough to eat would rush headfirst into battle even if faced with swords and shields, and when gathered into a force of ten thousand, they could not be easily managed or commanded.
His situation was like this, and Liang Zhongning’s wouldn’t be much different.
If truly ordered to return, they would likely cause a ruckus right in front of him.
He had only one option left.
To welcome these people into Changshe’s territory but strictly forbid them from stealing the limelight.
Even though he had a plan, Bo Cai couldn’t help but rub his temples, feeling a bit frazzled by this unexpected turn of events.
What further troubled him was witnessing Liang Zhongning’s troops marching from Yanling to Changshe and their subsequent behavior.
At first, hearing about Liang Zhongning beheading Bu Ji and Zhang Bo to seize power, he instinctively thought the guy might have some ruthless potential.
But upon meeting him, he felt Liang Zhongning, aside from the “confidence” already displayed in the letter, inexplicably seemed… goofy?
However, as Bo Cai surveyed the troops Liang Zhongning had brought, he was hesitant to judge.
Their physical condition was noticeably better than that of his subordinates.
While their formation still lagged compared to the regular Han army, they certainly didn’t deserve the label of a “disorganized rabble.”
What made him feel Liang Zhongning was no simple character was during his indication of where these men could camp, they exhibited decent skills in setting up their encampment.
Bo Cai, having earned battle achievements, wasn’t overly afraid of comparisons, but he simply couldn’t withstand being in such a position after a month of warfare in Changshe, where the Han army refused to engage while he’d failed multiple assaults, with supplies now running low.
Meanwhile, this new force seemed to be well-provisioned, immediately making him look bad.
Apart from that, the supplies were off-limits!
Since he didn’t want Liang Zhongning to steal his thunder, he couldn’t just ask him for provisions; otherwise, it would be implied that his troops were the “supply bearers for the alliance.”
But while he displayed authority, his subordinates clearly held some grievances.
Not long after their two factions camped adjacent, tensions arose.
The Yellow Turban soldiers were hard to manage. For them to behave like the regular Han army without wandering around during prep time was clearly not going to happen.
This relaxed environment led to problems.
On the third day after their arrival, one of Liang Zhongning’s soldiers accidentally wandered into Bo Cai’s territory.
Discovering him, Bo Cai’s troops could have merely captured him and returned him but mysteriously, the soldier, perhaps overly confident, thought of inviting the other party to admire their camp’s grandeur, only to be met with a comprehensive critique about everything from their camp layout to the latrine setup—all taken from their Commander’s insights, leaving him with no rebuttal.
The Bo Cai trooper grew angrier as he listened, yet their critiques were on point. After all, they articulated their insights against Bo Cai’s camp structure, leaving no room for defense.
The Bo Cai trooper, rendered speechless and defenseless, failed to notice that after delivering his disapproval, the interloper had quietly slipped away and reported back to a tall scholar with his findings from that day.
And this kind of scenario wasn’t a one-time occurrence.
When Bo Cai finally caught wind of it, rumors began circulating in the camp.
Such as the dysentery that had emerged in the army about half a month ago, attributed to Bo Cai’s lack of knowledge regarding latrine layout.
Or that they had recently been underfed due to improper placement of the cooking wells, leading to uneven distribution.
And how they could have breached Changshe long ago if not for the poorly constructed barriers, which necessitated a marked increase in night patrols, leaving them drained by day.
Bo Cai’s forehead twitched excessively, barely stopping himself from grabbing a knife to settle the score with Liang Zhongning.
However, before he could confront him, Liang Zhongning had already sought him out.
As soon as Bo Cai laid eyes on him, he noticed the genuine fury on Liang Zhongning’s face.
“…” This seems off.
Before he could ascertain what was going on, Liang Zhongning had already seized his collar, unleashing a torrent of reproaches at him.
Bo Cai’s subordinates hastily pulled Liang Zhongning off, allowing Bo Cai to piece together the situation amidst the flooding words.
“You’re saying… your men are missing?”
Bo Cai frowned, feeling victimized, “How does your missing men concern me?”
Liang Zhongning retorted, “So if another was also missing along with yours, what would that mean?”
“So, you’re telling me the food we gave out, and… that bag of grain just happened to show up from your soldiers today? Don’t tell me one of my men turned into a deserter, and in the middle of fleeing, decided to hand over their rations like some kind of bribe to stay under the radar?”
“…Please don’t be so hasty, General Liang.”
Bo Cai knew his subordinates well. He couldn’t think of any reason Liang Zhongning would lie or frame him. It truly seemed like something one of his own men would do.
“We both know how we recruited our men; if there’s a lack of proper management, there’s always a chance some might take risks.”
Liang Zhongning didn’t like hearing this, but Bo Cai quickly followed up, not giving Liang the opportunity to respond.
Bo Cai patted him on the shoulder, “You’re already doing well to unite the three factions of Yanzhou. What advantage do I gain by offending you right now? We should focus on the mission entrusted to us by the General of Heaven, not stir up trouble over the lives of a few soldiers. That’ll just give all those Han troops in Changshe something to snicker about.”
Liang Zhongning looked at him suspiciously and asked, “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
This really wasn’t Bo Cai’s doing, and there wasn’t even a hint of discomfort on his face. Liang Zhongning stared at him for a while but couldn’t figure him out, so he reluctantly decided to trust him for now.
But after this uproar, Bo Cai also forgot that he originally intended to stir up trouble with Liang Zhongning.
The thing he forgot to say was—
He could read military strategy books all he wanted, but why let his soldiers come to his territory to lecture him, practically stepping on his toes while they were at it?
With both sides holding grievances, it was only natural for friction to arise in their joint camp.
This attempt at a siege was now underway.
“If we only looked at the strength of the assault, we wouldn’t have expected that there were seventeen instances of conflict between both sides yesterday alone.”
Qiao Yan and Cheng Li, the two “strategists” and the root cause of the conflict, were of course not fighting on the front lines.
At this moment, they stood on a high ground outside the camp, gazing towards Changshe.
Changshe wasn’t a significant city; its walls were even lower than those of Juye City, which Qiao Yan had previously attacked.
But within Changshe, one could say it was a hidden gem.
There was General Huangfu, seasoned from countless battles, General Zhu Jun who quelled Jiaozhou, Cao Cao, then serving as the Cavalry Commandant, and the Zhong family backing them up. Even if their numbers were vastly outnumbered by the Yellow Turbans, they were still a tough nut to crack.
Future pillar of the Zhong family, Zhong Yao, had just resigned due to illness from being the magistrate of Yangling. Although he hadn’t yet reached the level where Cao Cao would later compare him to Xiao He for holding Guanzhong, he was definitely not a simple character.
Fu Xie, the military officer under Huangfu Song, was also no slouch.
As long as these five were there, no part of Changshe’s city walls could afford any gaps in defense; otherwise, Huangfu wouldn’t have found a way to exploit openings during a prolonged standoff.
“With these frictions ongoing, we can at least ensure that cooperation between the two sides will never be seamless. Even with five times the number of Han troops, it’s impossible to breach this small city.”
Sieging, when put simply, is just two words, but seeing an army of ten thousand press down in a siege, Qiao Yan had to grip the fabric of her sleeve tightly to keep from showing any strain, still maintaining a calm demeanor with Cheng Li as they watched the battle unfold.
She was also waiting. The person she had convinced to think big, hoping for fame and glory, would either take a risk to send word back to the city or not.
But with the Yellow Turbans in such a frenzied attack, even though Qiao Yan considered her eyesight quite good, it was hard to distinguish which fallen individuals had been shot by the arrows from the battlements and which were merely feigning death.
Of course, who could say whether those pretending to be dead might not be stabbed in the chaos, losing their lives?
Until dusk fell, the battle that couldn’t find a breakthrough finally came to a close, with Bo Cai signaling a retreat.
In Qiao Yan’s view, she couldn’t determine if what lay beneath Changshe was a layer of blood or the light of the setting sun.
She blinked, finally feeling a bit of dryness in her eyes.
“Please, Mr. Zhongde, return with me,” Qiao Yan said.
If she stayed here, she might just see if any of those bodies might hold a survivor from her earlier assignment arise in the dead of night. Unfortunately, Liang Zhongning came back from the battle. Given his reliance on the “strategist,” he’d surely consult Qiao Yan about some matters.
If she drew attention from others, it wouldn’t be great.
Cheng Li recognized her concern and promptly followed her lead.
But while he understood her worry, he couldn’t quite grasp the mix of emotions behind Qiao Yan’s gaze as she looked back at the battlefield before leaving.
It didn’t seem like she was lamenting the mighty Han falling to the current state of affairs, nor was it pity for the losses in this battle, and it certainly wasn’t loathing for the Yellow Turban bandits plotting for power. Instead, it felt like…
Cheng Li couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
He felt she wasn’t biased toward either side, yet her actions evidently marked her loyalty to the Han.
But he didn’t have time to ponder this too deeply. He quickly saw her emotions dissipate the moment they entered the military camp, where they ran into Liang Zhongning.
This guy thought he could count this siege as a defeat, and upon seeing Qiao Yan, he immediately began to vent his frustrations, especially raving about how Bo Cai’s soldiers kept clashing with his own during the attack, seriously undermining his chance to shine.
“The defender of the walls I faced today was short, with a round face and small eyes. One look and you know he’s no hero. If it weren’t for Bo Cai’s troops messing things up, I would’ve captured the battlements already!” Liang Zhongning’s tone was aggrieved, raising his voice even higher since Bo Cai couldn’t hear him right now.
…”Qiao Yan thought she hadn’t seen who Liang Zhongning was facing, but upon hearing his description, she inexplicably thought of the phrase “seven feet tall, with small eyes and a long beard.” This description clearly didn’t match Huangfu, Zhu Jun, or Fu Xie, and was likely referring to Cao Cao.
Because of this guess, the claim of “not a hero” felt quite loaded.
But Qiao Yan didn’t have time to ponder this amusing remark. Her gaze briefly locked with Cheng Li’s before shifting seriously back to Liang Zhongning as she said, “Everything often starts small; it’s best you keep an eye on Bo Cai’s movements.”
Liang Zhongning rarely heard Qiao Yan speak in such a tone, and it made him a bit more cautious.
Among the surrounding sounds of injured soldiers moaning at night, his initial sense of security grew more elaborate with a cascade of emotions.
But what he didn’t know was that while he tossed and turned, someone crawled out from the pile of corpses beneath Changshe.
With blood nearly dried on his face obscuring his features, he could only be seen pulling a wrapped arrow from beneath the pile.
He stumbled forward a few steps, quietly calling out a few names, but hearing no response only led to disappointment.
However, this was clearly not a moment for him to dwell on sorrow.
He picked up a short bow abandoned on the battlefield while keeping an eye on the movements of the guards atop the city wall, pulling out two flints from his waist pouch.
He took a deep breath.
Six men had come here for the feigned death mission, but only he made it out alive, though that still wasn’t guaranteed.
He couldn’t be sure that when he shot the arrow up toward the battlements, he wouldn’t be quickly identified and killed by the guards there.
Moreover, to ensure the arrow wouldn’t be overlooked, it was a type he was quite familiar with.
Tonight there was no moon, just for a moment, the spark lit by the flints illuminated this survivor’s figure. If you ignored the blood covering his face, it was easy to see that this was Tian Yan, the eldest son of the Tian family.
He had been so proactive in rallying for Qiao Yan’s cause, which reflected his actions as well.
This dangerous mission was something he dove into without hesitation.
The ignited fire arrow was quickly nocked, drawn, and shot into Changshe’s watchtower like a streak of fire in the night sky.
This arrow had become a diversion when his Tian Family Fortress was attacked; now in his hands, it turned into a means to shift the tide of battle. As Tian Yan traversed the absurdity of this bizarre thought, the rising panic soon overwhelmed this oddly skewed perspective.
The arrow hit the watchtower and extinguished, but it was enough to grab the attention of those defending the city.
Tian Yan hurriedly took out a piece of white cloth from his sleeve, waving it to signal to those on the battlements that he meant no harm, just a messenger.
He was indeed lucky; the guards on the battlements caught sight of his actions, successfully avoiding a friendly fire incident.
Tonight, the guard on duty was Fu Xie and his son.
Fu Gan picked up the arrow, still smoldering slightly, and noticed the note tied to the end with the words “Important matter, request audience” written in a sharp hand.
Seeing his father giving him a glance, he immediately handed the arrow to Fu Xie.
Fu Xie’s expression remained unchanged, but curiosity began to brew within him.
Hailing from the prestigious Fu family of Beidi and a student of Grand Commandant Liu Kuan, though now a Cavalry Commandant, his literary skills were still substantial.
Besides, if one talks about calligraphy within Changshe, Zhong Yuanchang would surely take the crown. Having seen his work before, Fu Xie now looked at the note with more discerning eyes.
The firelight atop the city wall illuminated the note, and the four words written on it certainly didn’t seem to be penned by the Yellow Turban bandits.
“Father, shall we bring that person up?” Fu Gan asked as Fu Xie studied the note.
This young man was only slightly older than Qiao Yan, just looking tall and strong due to his training with his father.
He had read military treatises for years and thought over this strange action of the man below; then he added, “Given the urgent circumstances, should we still exercise caution? If it’s a trap…”
“Bring him up,” Fu Xie interrupted his son. “It’s just one person. Even if he has ulterior motives, we can keep an eye on him.”
Once Fu Xie finished speaking, he ordered the guards atop the city to lower a basket from Changshe’s walls to hoist Tian Yan up.
Fu Gan had assumed this messenger, who risked everything to send word, would have substantial courage. Who would expect that the face-concealed young man, after climbing up to the battlements, would crumble to the ground, letting out a chuckle.
Tian Yan didn’t have the energy to care that he had first heeded a boy’s commands to undertake this dangerous task, only to endure another boy’s ridicule now.
Now safe, the fear from lying among dead bodies during the day, the anxiety of firing that arrow, and the unwitting sorrow for his comrades left behind all surged back to him.
He had only been holding himself together to finish this task. Now seeing Fu Xie, whom he recognized as the thirty-year-old general he spotted earlier that day, and knowing his position in the Han army wasn’t too low, he felt he had completed half of his mission, letting out a sigh of relief.
“What brings you here?” Fu Xie asked, hand resting on his side sword.
Tian Yan took a deep breath, like pulling up his spirits, and replied, “I’m here on behalf of someone to deliver a letter to General Huangfu.”
“I know General Huangfu isn’t easily approached,” before Fu Xie could ask, Tian Yan continued, “but this person requested that I inform him that it concerns all matters regarding eliminating the Yellow Turbans, and I implore General Huangfu to meet.”
Tian Yan, weary from today’s events, spoke with a bit less vigor, but it didn’t diminish his faith in Qiao Yan, which lent a certain firmness to his voice when mentioning the “elimination of the Yellow Turbans.”
This lent his words a degree of credibility.
Fu Xie watched him for a bit before nodding, signaling Fu Gan to bring him along, stating he would notify General Huangfu.
Huangfu Song wouldn’t take this matter lightly.
During a time when two armies clashed, someone capable enough to reach the battlements was definitely not coming with funny business.
He called Zhu Jun and Cao Cao along as well.
What he didn’t expect was that this matter was even larger than he had imagined.
Tian Yan’s packet, inevitably stained with a bit of blood while lying beneath the heaps of dead, but thankfully it didn’t hinder him from reading the contents clearly.
The more Huangfu read, the tenser his expression became, but upon reaching the last line, he couldn’t help but clap his thigh and burst out laughing.
Unlike ministers like Lu Zhi, known for their scholarly demeanor, Huangfu, born into a military family, had a commanding presence. When Tian Yan first met him, he truly believed Huangfu embodied what a leader of the Han army should be. Seeing the tension on Huangfu’s brow made him anxious, but now with a laugh, which carried the cheer of a frontier warrior, he finally relaxed.
“Zhu Jun, take a look at this.” Huangfu didn’t express his stance but rather handed the letter to Zhu Jun.
Zhu Jun’s reaction was a bit different from Huangfu’s. He first showed a hint of surprise and as he read to the end, a sense of awe washed over him.
Even Cao Cao, who had seen his fair share of chaos, having dealt with conspiracies and ministerial reforms, couldn’t help but be curious about what was written that caused such reactions from Huangfu and Zhu Jun.
Zhu Jun folded the letter back, asking, “What do you think about this, Yizhen?”
“Qiao Gongzu has a good grandson,” Huangfu replied.
Seeing both Cao Cao and Fu Xie looking at him, he explained, “The grandson of Qiao Gongzu is currently among the Yellow Turbans, devising a plan with the wise folks from Dong’e to coordinate internal and external strategies, aiming to break this deadlock.”
Both men froze at this but heard him add, “To risk oneself entering enemy territory… this is something even an adult might hesitate to undertake, let alone a ten-year-old. This is true talent and merit!”
“Hold on!”
Tian Yan, the messenger of the city, was presented before Huangfu by Fu Xie, who was inherently more cautious. As soon as Huangfu finished speaking, he asked, “How does the Middle General know this person truly bears a message from Qiao Gongzu’s grandson?”
Huangfu, unperturbed by Fu Xie’s cautious nature, gestured toward Zhu Jun, “Please read the last segment aloud to them.”
Zhu Jun acknowledged the request.
He reopened the parchment, reading, “The letter states—In the past, my uncle encountered bandits outside, and while the sun was high, he hesitated to act. Only my grandfather spoke, why should a nation suffer for the life of one child? My uncle was killed by the bandits, yet the capital remains peaceful, my grandfather harbors no regrets.”
“Now in my current position among the enemies, I do not fear that General Huangfu may not recognize my worth or grasp our timing. I only fear being placed in danger and therefore do not dare to act rashly, so my grandfather’s words are inscribed upon silk—why should a nation suffer for the life of one child?”
“Thus it was, and so it is now, I hope General will judge wisely.”
At the end of the note were the four words, “Respectfully presented by Qiao Yan.”
Reading those lines left Zhu Jun agape. With every word pronounced, he perceived how extraordinary the writer truly was.
The matter she recounted involved the major abduction case during Yang Qiu’s oversight in the capital.
Qiao Xuan’s assertion of “Why should a nation suffer for the life of one child?” cost his younger son his life but instigated a wave of fear in the capital, ensuring no one dared to abduct the children of the elite again; this had become a well-known tale for many years.
This granddaughter of Qiao Gongzu, now equating her situation, boldly implored Huangfu to ensure the annihilation of the Yellow Turbans without concern for her safety.
Such words could never come from the Yellow Turban bandits faking a peace treaty to lure them out.
Thinking back to the time they left the capital, Qiao Xuan was already gravely ill, likely not surviving the half year. As he gazed upon the incredibility of the successor to the Qiao family name, a sense of pity mixed with admiration surfaced.
Before Zhu Jun could regain his composure, Huangfu drew his sword, exclaiming, “If a mere child dares to undertake such an endeavor for the nation, we must not hesitate and miss our opportunity! Mengde, write a reply to this person, agreeing on the timing for our attack.”
Cao Cao obliged, yet as the ink neared the paper, he suddenly realized something was amiss.
Wishing to consult Qiao Xuan was a long-time friend, he knew well who in the family existed.
But where was Qiao Xuan’s son, Qiao Yu?
Qiao Yan was clearly a name he bestowed upon his daughter!
This was not the grandson of Qiao Gongzu, but rather his granddaughter!
