“Can strategists not ascend to power?”
In the Three Kingdoms period, having someone hold the reins of your horse was pretty normal for those in high places. But what really got Qiao Yan’s attention was his name.
Xu Fu of Yingchuan.
This name feels a bit rustic, and it’s even shared with the guy who was sent overseas by the First Emperor to seek immortality and elixirs.
But given his age, his identity as a wandering knight, and his location, it’s not hard to think of someone else.
Someone whose name is way more recognizable than Xu Fu’s real name.
Xu Shu, Xu Yuanzhi.
As Qiao Yan tried to figure out his background through subtle hints, she was pretty sure he was indeed the person she suspected.
But right now, he wasn’t of age yet, so of course, he didn’t have the name Yuanzhi. Plus, he hadn’t almost died because of revenge for someone, nor had he switched from martial pursuits to scholarly ones right after being saved.
At this moment, Xu Fu was just a kid from Yingchuan, wielding a sword and acting like a knight, in the midst of the Yellow Turban Rebellion. After getting his mother settled, he rushed over to Changshe, aiming to stop the Yellow Turbans there and avoid larger chaos in Yingchuan.
He definitely wasn’t qualified to be called a strategist yet—he hadn’t even read many books.
According to Qiao Yan, he was still in the mindset that problems could be solved with brute force.
Qiao Yan had no idea if he’d experienced the Battle of Changshe in actual history or if he’d joined the troops heading north to Jizhou after defending the town, but here he was, for real.
In Xu Fu’s words, during the recent battle against the Yellow Turbans, it was the first time he learned that one could create internal strife by using clever words, thus breaking a long stalemate on the battlefield.
And since rumors in the army suggested that his actions were for avenging his parents, it added a layer of legendary flair to it all.
With his young age and a knightly personality that made his emotions a bit more visible, it wasn’t really surprising that he felt inspired by Qiao Yan’s actions—maybe in modern terms, you could say he saw her as an idol and wanted to offer to hold her horse.
Just then, he was punched on the head by a rushing officer.
For soldiers, the ones who could help them win were the real deal. If the siege in Changshe continued, despite General Huangfu Song’s ability to find a way out, it wouldn’t change their dilemma of having too few soldiers. More lives would undoubtedly be at risk.
This had nothing to do with Qiao Yan’s age or gender.
Plus, among Huangfu Song’s troops, there were some he had brought from the borders who still remembered her grandfather, Qiao Xuan.
The troops stationed at Wuyuan were constantly watching the northern barbarians. Some of these elite soldiers, being cooped up in the city, had finally relieved their pent-up frustration after victory, making Qiao Yan look all the more appealing.
Add to that the three years of stability under Qiao Xuan’s command at Duliang and the fair treatment the soldiers received that was never withheld—successors after over a decade were too afraid to be seen as lacking compared to such a predecessor. His influence had certainly been magnified, which spilled over some goodwill onto Qiao Yan.
“This kid’s clever—the idea of holding a horse for someone’s face is something else,” one veteran mumbled. “But nobody expected a young lady would ride along too.”
“What’s so strange about it? That’s the granddaughter of Lord Qiao,” replied another.
After taking a hit to the head from the officer, Xu Fu scratched the back of his head and smiled.
In the end, he got the job of holding the horse for this great hero, so he wasn’t losing out.
In addition, Qiao Yan seemed to have a keen interest in Yingchuan and asked him a ton of questions about it, even inquiring about what those of them involved in the “wandering knight” trade usually did, clearly putting significance on him.
Xu Fu had no clue he was almost spilling his entire family background in this Q&A session, further confirming for Qiao Yan that he was indeed the future Xu Yuanzhi.
“You seem quite interested in that kid?” Cao Cao asked during a brief pause.
Qiao Yan replied casually, “It’s my first time meeting a fan willing to hold my horse for me; I just find it amusing.”
Cao Cao took another look at Xu Fu and still didn’t see anything particularly special through his sharp gaze.
There were hundreds, if not thousands, of wandering knights like him in Yingchuan, and Xu Fu certainly didn’t stand out.
Compared to his own more impressive youth, Xu Fu was a drop in the ocean!
Qiao Yan didn’t want him to catch on, so she brushed the topic aside.
But even if she hadn’t, Cao Cao was too occupied with other matters to pay much heed to Xu Fu.
While Huangfu Song rushed north, lacking Zhu Jun, who could discuss military strategy, that heavy responsibility fell to Cao Cao now.
On the road from Changshe to Jizhou, Huangfu Song was summoning troops frequently to finalize a military route.
Looking back at history, the hallmark battlefield of the Yellow Turban defeat was set at Guangzong, but if one wanted to nitpick, Zhang Jiao’s main force actually gathered at Ye City to start the uprising.
But due to a tip-off from Tang Zhou, Ma Yuanyi was killed and they moved early. This northern main force started in Julu County, the hometown of the Zhang brothers—Zhang Jiao, Zhang Liang, and Zhang Bao.
After that, they spread from Julu to the surrounding Guangping, Qinghe, and Anping areas.
When Lu Zhi brought the Northern Army Five Divisions, their opposing force was already appearing in Quzhou of Guangping County.
But scouts reported that Zhang Jiao and Zhang Liang’s main forces were still stationed between Pingxiang and Guangzong—a place right on the junction between Julu and Anping, at the southern tip of Julu County.
Zhang Bao, on the other hand, had part of his troops stationed in Xiaquyang, ready to retreat and defend at any moment—
This was the northernmost point of Julu.
With each side positioned north and south, they created mutual support.
The discussion between Huangfu Song and Cao Cao revolved around this meeting point with Lu Zhi’s troops.
Originally, Huangfu Song leaned towards linking up in Ping’en and attacking Quzhou and Guangzong from close range, but he also thought about meeting earlier to avoid being spied on by Zhang Jiao’s side, surprising them when appearing.
This dilemma in decision-making made him choose to listen to Cao Cao’s advice.
Cao Cao stroked his chin, glancing back and forth at the map for a while before saying, “What my daughter has been doing gives me some other ideas—wondering if the general would like to hear about my third option.”
Huangfu Song was intrigued: “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“I suspect that my uncle would suggest we make a direct move on Xiaquyang.”
After the military plan was laid out and the route confirmed, Cao Cao got Huangfu Song’s approval and discussed this with Qiao Yan, who ended up echoing his thoughts.
“No surprise there,” Qiao Yan continued, “Considering our troop numbers, even with Lu Gong’s forces joining, we’re still not that far off from the Yellow Turban troops. But the Yellow Turbans have the morale advantage from the grassroots uprising since they started from Julu, and they’d be waiting for us unprepared, so that gives them a massive edge.”
“Plus, Zhang Jiao uses religious means to command his followers, making their combat effectiveness unpredictable. Rather than face a situation where a surprise attack might fail, it’s better to capture Xiaquyang, take Zhang Bao down, and then mix in with Guangzong dressed as Yellow Turbans; that would really be clever.”
“Right, I said the same to General Huangfu,” Cao Cao clapped and laughed, becoming more convinced of Qiao Yan’s talent in this area.
Of course, he couldn’t help but feel a bit clever himself.
“But this plan still relies on being at the front lines alongside Lu Gong,” Cao Cao thought it over and figured that wasn’t such a bad stroke of luck after all.
No matter if it’s direct confrontation or siege warfare, Lu Zhi’s strategy was all about being steady.
From an outsider’s point of view, the minor victories between Lu Zhi and Zhang Jiao didn’t look all that impressive.
But from a military perspective, he was certainly living up to the skills he honed during his past revolts in Yang Province.
If Lu Zhi wasn’t there on the frontline holding back the Yellow Turban main forces, they probably wouldn’t even manage to attempt a rear attack.
If one were to evaluate the greatest warrior of the times, it would likely be this Northern Middle General.
An interesting tidbit is that later generals like Gongsun Zan and Emperor Liu Bei were once Lu Zhi’s students.
As for what each one learned, that’s open to interpretation!
But since they were planning to take Xiaquyang first, Qiao Yan probably wouldn’t see Lu Zhi anytime soon.
More accurately, according to Huangfu Song and Cao Cao’s earlier plans, Qiao Yan would have to wait until they returned before seeing Lu Zhi, and even then it wouldn’t be in Yanzhou, but in Luoyang.
After all, Huangfu Song had informed Qiao Yan a few days ago that her grandfather, Qiao Xuan, had fallen gravely ill since March.
By common sense, as his granddaughter, she should be heading to Luoyang shortly.
Shortly, because Huangfu Song couldn’t be sure just how many spies were left in Luoyang apart from the already executed Ma Yuanyi. If Qiao Yan returned too soon, it could risk exposing conditions in Yanzhou to Zhang Jiao, which would be bad news.
That’s why Huangfu Song had said that news of the situation in Yanzhou and Yuzhou would circulate once he entered Jizhou.
By then, even if there were messages exchanged, such information couldn’t impact the current battlefield situation.
It was best for Qiao Yan to set off around that time.
Of course, she hadn’t made a clear statement on the plan but was already calculating something else in her mind.
And this change in military plans was not a bad move for her; rather, it was likely a good thing.
If they followed the initial plan to meet in Quzhou, the best route north would be to return via Chenliu as they came, moving over to Puyang, then along Yangping to Guangzong.
But if they were going to take a detour, the best route was to cross Dong’e, move into Jizhou, and go along the Qinghe line.
This detour meant that they would pass through Liang Kingdom and Dingtao without needing to waste time.
When passing through Liang Kingdom, Qiao Yan found the Qiao family estate based on her memories.
The Qiao family wasn’t exactly prominent, lacking fortresses for protection. But they had the reputation of a gentry family, and their lack of wealth allowed them to effectively avoid being robbed, enabling Qiao Yan to find old clothes that her parents once wore in the ancestral home.
Huangfu Song thought he would see a scene of family elders crying and embracing, but instead, he found Qiao Yan merely exchanged a few casual greetings with the clan elder before quickly leaving on the pretense of urgency for the march.
“Not staying for half a day?” Huangfu Song asked.
Qiao Yan silently shook her head.
The last few days, she’d been plotting how to build her reputation amidst the Yellow Turban Rebellion and had been neglecting memories of “Qiao Yan’s” past actions in the Qiao family estate.
Add to that the differences in her physical condition compared to her frail original self; if it were two or three years later, she could use her health to excuse things, but at this moment, it didn’t add up.
The more she said, the more errors could arise, so it was best to minimize contact.
Her taciturn state wouldn’t be hard to paint as emotional turmoil over nostalgia.
That was perfectly reasonable.
Except Dian Wei was feeling a bit put out.
If she was going to get emotional, she should have just taken it out on Bo Cai before reaching Dingtao, instead of having him and Xu Fu go study together!
Right now, he thought Qiao Yan’s earlier suggestion that their future children learn something was actually pretty good.
But how could he refuse without sounding rude?
In this camp, who didn’t know he and Xu Fu were treated exceptionally well? In an era where knowledge was practically monopolized by noble families, having a chance to learn was something worth envying for many.
After passing through Caoxian, he finally found relief. Qiao Yan let him and Xu Fu review on their own while she stayed in the tent alone, seemingly doing who knows what.
Others thought she was becoming increasingly forlorn, approaching Dingtao, the place where Qiao Yu died; little did they know the strategist system was aware that she wasn’t the original Qiao Yan—there was no sorrow to speak of.
Upon witnessing Qiao Yan’s actions, the system felt like it was experiencing a glitch, falling into long silence.
Because she was—
Rehearsing.
The system could confirm that even if it asked about what was going on, it would likely only receive one response. The scene where she donned mourning clothes to meet Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun hadn’t even reached the climax of her entire plot yet.
That big act of killing Bo Cai in Dingtao to honor her parents was the actual main event.
Dingtao was located to the south of the Jishui River.
Once upon a time, “Qiao Yan” had passed through here with her parents, colliding with Bo Cai’s troops heading south to Yingchuan. But that place where they clashed was now a mere shadow of its former self.
This situation wasn’t hard to explain but carried a touch of sadness.
After the battle tipped the scales in one side’s favor, the carriages were taken away for firewood, and there were nothing left of the horses and people that fell on the ground in absolute famine.
Even the fresh blood that had soaked into the soil was long gone, washed deeper in the ground with the rain that fell in Yanzhou a few days ago.
The only thing Qiao Yan could recognize upon returning to this place was an arrow mark on the land that required a closer look to spot.
Of course, the arrows had long since been removed, carried off as weapons.
She had a cold expression on her face, her slightly thin attire making her pale once more, vividly contrasting with the white of her mourning clothes, presenting her as particularly frail.
Yet, as she held the clothes taken from the Qiao family estate and walked with a straight back, her aura was distinctly dignified.
Only when she threw these clothes into the firepot to burn them for a soul-calling ceremony did the flames finally cast a bit of rosy color onto her pale face.
During the Han dynasty, there were various methods for soul-calling, such as how Emperor Wu attempted to awaken the spirit of Lady Li only to inadvertently create shadow puppetry, while non-clothing items were also rumored to have such effects.
But these cases were a bit different from Qiao Yan’s situation, having no remains of her parents, making what she did count all on her own.
If all else failed, it was just seen as a quirky custom—either way, it had to look good.
So, she lit the pile of clothes on fire.
Once the clothes turned to ashes in the pot and the wind by the river stirred up a little ember that danced in the flames before her, Huangfu Song just happened to catch a glimpse of teardrops in the corner of Qiao Yan’s eye, which she quickly suppressed when looking up.
At that moment, the wind was blowing not only the old clothes in the firepot but also her plain mourning garments. When she casually lifted her hand, the oversized outer robe of mourning took on a fluttering appearance.
But that lifting of the hand was actually a signal.
Dian Wei saw the signal and grabbed Bo Cai.
At first, Bo Cai thought they were bringing him along because they valued his identity as a Great Virtuous Teacher and wanted to keep him around to spill some secrets about Zhang Jiao.
Little did he know that Huangfu Song had no intention of dragging out any negotiation.
Those who should be released were tossed aside in Changshe, while those to be warned remained detained, and those to be executed, like Bo Cai, were not given a moment’s pause for unnecessary chatter.
Bound and brought before Qiao Yan, he finally felt a twinge of panic.
This was not right! This was very wrong!
He had some recollection of this place.
After all, in his view, killing a Han official and killing a Han commoner were two completely different matters.
He had once bragged, tipsy, about how that high-ranking official, surrounded by bodyguards, was taken out by their swarm tactics.
It was a pity he seemed to have let a few slip away, making it look like he hadn’t quite finished the job.
But now, being brought here against his will, seeing Qiao Yan dressed in mourning attire, cold and indifferent, even if he couldn’t read minds, he could guess the situation.
When he and Liang Zhongning were locked up together, he had been angry, cursing that bringing along a strategist was basically asking for doom—if Liang didn’t rely on her so much, she wouldn’t have had the chance to scheme against them.
In the blink of an eye, a fragment of memory surfaced, and Bo Cai suddenly connected the girl now playing judge to the figure fleeing for her life. He abruptly realized—
He shouldn’t be cursing Liang Zhongning! He should be cursing himself!
Why hadn’t he worked harder back then? He let her escape and now he was going to die by her hand.
What a twist of fate he never saw coming!
As he felt Qiao Yan’s gaze on him, as void as looking at a corpse, Bo Cai scrambled to come up with a reason to keep himself alive.
Something like “I didn’t kill your father” wouldn’t do him any good.
In these times, subordinates’ actions usually fell back on their leaders, and saying that would just provoke her further.
He had to grit his teeth and declare, “I know the troops in Julu County, you can’t kill me!”
However, even that didn’t seem to stir any reaction from Qiao Yan, less impactful than the rushing waters of the Jishui.
There was no hint of emotion from her, and even Huangfu Song didn’t think he was about to confess something critical that would temporarily spare his life.
The reaction he imagined, where his words would halt the executioner’s hand, simply didn’t happen. Instead, he watched Qiao Yan step toward Huangfu Song and say, “Please lend me your sword, General.”
Huangfu Song handed over the side sword at his side.
Lending a weapon wasn’t an audacious act at this moment; it was all part of Qiao Yan’s plan to ensure “Bo Cai met his end by Huangfu Song’s blade.”
This was undoubtedly adding to her fame for putting down the Yellow Turbans in Yingchuan.
Seeing Qiao Yan remember details like this only filled Bo Cai with a bit more pity for her.
The sword, which had started with Huangfu Jie guarding Yanmen and later entrusted to Huangfu Song, now lay in the hands of a ten-year-old child.
Once stained with the blood of barbarian foes, its edge glimmered with a chilling light, but faced with Qiao Yan, Bo Cai felt her gaze was far colder than the sword.
Unfortunately, his movements were not his own, and in front of that deadly blade, he had no chance of survival.
After having already seen Bu Ji and Zhang Bo die so close to her, Qiao Yan wouldn’t show any hesitation in wielding the sword herself.
Not to mention, she had practiced countless times alone, fully confident that her current strength could handle it.
She raised her hand, grasped the sword, and swung down.
The next moment, Bo Cai’s body, which had been forced to kneel next to the Jishui, fell as blood flowed from the wound in his neck, slowly mixing into the river.
He could speak no more.
Although the blood would quickly dilute in the river, Qiao Yan knew that was enough.
The sight of this blood flowing into the Jishui would undoubtedly be seen by the soldiers behind her and might even be spread when they returned victorious.
It would leave a mark, not completely disappearing like the flowing waters.
Interestingly, in modern times, the Jishui name has vanished from the maps, taken over by the Huang He, but that wasn’t the case in the Han Dynasty.
The saying “Rivers Yangtze, Huai, and Jishui” still existed during that time.
The Jishui continued to flow east from where Qiao Yan currently stood in Dingtao, passing the Heze Lake, and shifting northeast until it reached Daye Lake and Juye City.
That was where Qiao Yan had awoken upon her arrival here.
If “Qiao Yan’s” mother had any spirit left, she should see the blood of the scoundrel who had killed her husband, indirectly leading to the deaths of the mother and daughter, flowing down the river to that very spot.
With that in mind, Qiao Yan felt no guilt about taking over someone else’s body and using her identity for these deeds.
Still, she paused for a moment, staring into the river, before turning to Huangfu Song and handing the sword back to him.
“Qiao Yan was too forward; I ask for one more thing from the General.”
On her white robes, splattered with bright red blood, this evidently didn’t diminish her noble demeanor at this time; rather, it hid a hint of murderous intent beneath her seemingly gentle surface.
Huangfu Song found it a bit strange that he would have such an impression of her.
He pushed such nonsensical thoughts aside and replied, “Speak.”
“Please allow me to accompany the troops to Ji Province,” Qiao Yan said firmly.
Huangfu Song felt a bit troubled.
Having her in the army felt a bit out of line, especially since this was a surprise rapid march.
He could guess Qiao Yan’s intention, much like when she wanted to spare Liang Zhongning—she wanted to witness the downfall of the Yellow Turbans firsthand.
Yet, he was leaning toward allowing her to come along.
After all, if it weren’t for her actions, the Yellow Turbans in both provinces wouldn’t be dealt with so swiftly. If there were any remaining Yellow Turban rebels still at large, they might target her; keeping her close with the army seemed safer.
Even if she had arrived in Luoyang a few days earlier, she would likely have had to wait with Qiao Xuan for news of victory, which would be stressful for both a child and an elderly person. It was better to wait until the result was known before entering Luoyang.
Plus…
Who could refuse her request at such a moment?
Who could deny a child’s wish?
At least Huangfu Song couldn’t.
Plus, he had heard from Cao Cao just days ago about how she had accurately guessed the situation at Xiaquyang, which indicated Qiao Yan was no fool and had sound reasoning.
A decision-maker who could swiftly adapt to battlefield conditions was invaluable, and Qiao Yan was clearly one of those. She could indeed be of help.
Not to mention—
She had Dian Wei and Xu Fu protecting her; she’d likely be safe.
Her horse-riding skills weren’t top-notch, but she could at least keep up, not dragging anyone down.
Influenced by all these reasons, Huangfu Song thought long and hard but ultimately agreed to her request.
After all, if he’d agreed to let Qiao Yan execute Bo Cai, letting her join the troops for the fight against the Yellow Turbans shouldn’t be too outrageous.
Having found his own justification, Huangfu Song and his group crossed the Jishui and continued northward.
Before entering Ji Province, they rested for a day just outside Dong’e City.
While it was said to be outside Dong’e City, they were still a fair distance from the county seat, enough not to alert the citizens there that the imperial army was passing through.
Surrounded by a cluster of trees for cover, they were safe from prying eyes.
Sitting by the fire, Qiao Yan asked, “Does Mr. Zhongde feel anything about returning home without splendor?”
Cheng Li was a bit speechless at Qiao Yan’s jest.
He replied, “Previously, the Qiao family didn’t mind General Huangfu leading troops north since our family was opposed to the Yellow Turbans. But now that we’re in Dong’e, where there might be those among the commoners who support the rebels, it’s better to avoid the city entirely.”
“I was just making a joke,” Qiao Yan laughed along.
Cheng Li noticed it seemed to be the first time she smiled since eliminating Bo Cai in Dingtao and decided not to ruin her mood.
Then he heard her continue, “I was thinking, previously Mr. Zhongde only had the Xue family raise troops to throw up a false front for Dong’e when in reality Liang Zhongning hadn’t actually gone to Dong’e for confirmation. You came here after heading to Puyang, and I suspect your movement hasn’t been explained clearly to the citizens.”
“Exactly,” Cheng Li confirmed, noting their direct actions had kept things on a need-to-know basis, just like this military operation.
“That means you couldn’t return to Dong’e for studies; after all, General Huangfu wouldn’t allow you to send messages so close to Ji Province. So my suggestion for you to join us to Ji Province is actually quite timely,” Qiao Yan confidently added another layer to her reasoning. “Mr. Zhongde should thank me.”
Cheng Li could only chuckle.
He noticed that while Qiao Yan was exceptionally decisive when it came time to kill, she had her fair share of childlike antics when it came to other matters.
However, it was as if the intimidating sensation from the Jishui had been lessened, along with the fear it held—he couldn’t quite tell if this was a good sign.
Cheng Li turned to see Qiao Yan had skipped right past that matter and was now asking how Xu Fu and Dian Wei were faring in their lessons during the days she hadn’t supervised them.
Xu Fu was mentioned to have been eager to help Qiao Yan with her horse riding, which clearly showed he regarded her words as law, even noting down every book she mentioned she wanted to read, revealing his remarkable memory.
As for Dian Wei…
Better not to mention him!
The scene around them was like a chaotic chicken coop.
Huangfu Song and Cao Cao, hearing the commotion outside the tent, might still be worried over the wording in their official document, yet they couldn’t help but chuckle at the madness unfolding within.
“It would be best to clearly state the passing of Ren Cheng’s title in the report so His Majesty won’t accidentally inform Qiao Gong of it,” Cao Cao suggested, looking over the draft he’d prepared.
Liu Hong, the emperor, was a perplexing figure whose thoughts were often hard to gauge.
He was greedy beyond measure, even to the extent of selling ranks and positions, yet he also founded the Hongdu Academy and put forth students from that school to serve as officials.
Though he favored eunuchs, he also made serious moves, like commissioning Cai Yong to engrave the Xiping Stone Classics.
When submitting a report to such a capricious emperor, it’s better to be clear about what needs to be said.
If Liu Hong didn’t take note and walked into Qiao Xuan’s sickroom waving that report, saying, “My dear minister, your son and daughter-in-law were both killed by the Yellow Turbans, but luckily, your granddaughter took care of the Yellow Turbans in both provinces,” it could cause quite the stir.
Qiao Xuan was already 74 years old and in bad health; who knew if he would be startled into a fit by the news about his granddaughter or if the news would just kill him from anger?
Cao Cao felt it better not to place too much faith in Liu Hong and to articulate everything that needed saying.
Huangfu Song nodded in agreement and added another note to the draft.
He read the report over several times before passing it to Cao Cao to be copied.
The next day, having crossed into Ji Province, he handed the report to one of his guards to send to Luoyang.
A little extra travel wasn’t a big deal.
Having seen the situation in Yanzhou himself, he could add some comments to the report. After all, he couldn’t just fill it with observations from Yu Province and Yingchuan while others were still in Ji Province.
But just after they left, somewhere around Liaocheng, he suddenly reined in his horse, hesitating to ask Cao Cao, “Mengde, I recall there was a line in the report that said, ‘Qiao Gong’s granddaughter Yan is ten years old, and with wit, she’s caused chaos among the Yellow Turbans in both provinces, significantly alleviating the siege of Changshe,’ right?”
“That’s what it said.” Cao Cao replied.
At first, he didn’t grasp why Huangfu Song brought this up but realized in a flash—
The wording may refer to a grandchild, but he/she could be male or female!
If Liu Hong really understood it this way, and coupled with the proscribed behavior of keeping it from Qiao Xuan because of his ailments…
“With the Yellow Turbans still at large, the emperor wouldn’t grant a reward so soon, right?”
Huangfu Song and Cao Cao exchanged determined looks, searching for a glimmer of confidence in each other’s eyes.
Yeah… Liu Hong was too stingy to make such early rewards!
Having received this mental reassurance, they shifted their focus forward.
To be precise, it was too late for them to catch up with the person delivering the report. The horse he rode was better than most in the army, and having been a day ahead, they had little hope of recovery.
Providing a supplemental report just to clarify this matter would appear odd, likely pitting Qiao Yan against something unfavorable.
It was better to wait until they had defeated the Yellow Turbans in Ji Province before making it clear in the final report.
Now that they had entered Ji Province, it meant they were focused on facing off against the main Yellow Turban forces.
Even if they had swiftly dealt with the uprisings in the two provinces earlier, surpassing Zhang Jiao’s expectations, the opponents had been planning for years. Finally assembling a formidable uprising force, underestimating them would surely lead to trouble.
As the commander, Huangfu Song couldn’t afford to be distracted by other issues.
His mind was set on one goal—
Advance on Xiaquyang!
