Guan Yu and Xu Shu had no idea that Jiangdong was already beginning to crack beneath the surface.
And honestly? Even if a messenger had ridden through the gates with a detailed report outlining Sun Quan's coming betrayal, the two men would have skimmed it, tossed it aside, and moved on.
They had a war to fight.
Xu Shu had drafted contingency plans for a Jiangdong backstab months ago. They were ready if the worst happened.
Still, he hoped those plans would never leave the shelf.
The Han people had shed enough blood already, and there would be time to mourn the collapse of the alliance later.
Right now, his attention belonged elsewhere.
After the fleet bypassed Jiangxia and pushed north into the Han River, Xu Shu put his main logistical plan into motion.
He ordered a fortified transit camp built east of Dangyang. The camp was never meant to be a battlefield fortress. Its purpose was purely practical.
Grain collection and processing. Weapon and equipment distribution. Prisoner holding and transfer.
But the new base offered something more valuable than storage space.
Independence.
Once the Dangyang hub was operational, their supply lines no longer needed to pass through Jiangxia's administrative network. On the surface, it was just a sensible military arrangement.
In reality, Xu Shu was quietly cutting the army's logistical dependence on its ally. If Jiangdong wanted to play games, they could play them on their own time. The Shu Han army would feed itself.
From the moment Cao Ren ordered his vanguard forward, the entire Fancheng theater became a meat grinder.
As one of the Prime Minister's closest kinsmen, Cao Ren had access to information that commanders like Yu Jin never saw.
He knew Yanzhou and Yuzhou was struggling with food shortages. He knew the court's strategic focus was shifting toward Guanzhong.
Most importantly, he knew time was not on their side.
Fancheng had to fall, and it had to fall quickly.
To that end, Cao Ren drove his men relentlessly. Siege troops were thrown into battle wave after wave, barely given time to catch their breath before being sent forward again. Every assault was immediately followed by another. He was burning through his soldiers' stamina in exchange for speed.
Across the river, Yue Jin watched the entire spectacle unfold.
Officially, his mission was to defend Xiangyang.
In practice, he was trapped inside it.
Huang Zhong's army had established camp just outside the city. The veteran general showed no interest in storming the walls. He did not send challengers to insult the defenders. He did not waste effort on intimidation.
He simply sat there.
And every time a Cao scout ventured outside, Huang Zhong's archers made sure he regretted it.
After a while, the scouts stopped going out altogether.
The terrain around Xiangyang was flat and open. Visibility stretched for miles. Anyone stepping beyond the gates might as well hang a sign around his neck announcing where to shoot.
Before long, the Xiangyang garrison almost forgot they were technically under siege.
The massive warship patrolling the river paid them no attention whatsoever. Like a floating fortress, it remained focused entirely on Fancheng, its heavy ballistas aimed across the water day and night.
Then boredom set in.
The northern wall of Xiangyang was supposed to be a military position. Instead, it gradually turned into the city's most popular viewing platform. Whenever they were off duty, soldiers gathered along the battlements to watch the fighting across the river.
Compared to staring at barracks walls all day, an ongoing siege was far more entertaining.
Yue Jin knew exactly what they were doing.
He also knew there was very little he could do about it.
His greatest fear was ordering a sortie to raise morale, only to watch that monstrous warship drift south and cut off his retreat before his men could make it back to the gates.
So Xiangyang settled into a bizarre routine.
The soldiers collected their rations, found a comfortable spot on the walls, and watched the siege of Fancheng as if it were a traveling performance.
Meanwhile, Yue Jin paced the battlements with a knot in his stomach, studying the same battle from a commander's perspective.
From where he stood, the pattern was impossible to miss.
Cao Ren repeatedly attempted to envelop Fancheng from three directions. Each time, the giant warship shifted toward the eastern flank and opened fire in support of the defenders.
The effect was immediate.
The eastern assault columns lost their nerve almost at once. The western attackers soon followed. What should have been a coordinated encirclement dissolved again and again under the pressure of the ship's intervention.
That floating fortress had become the center of the battlefield.
As long as it remained on the river, every attack was drawn toward it. Traditional encirclement tactics simply stopped working.
The soldiers atop Xiangyang's walls leaned against the parapets, listening to the distant thunder rolling across the river.
"I'll bet a hundred coins Fancheng holds."
A spearman tore off a strip of dried meat and tossed it into his mouth.
His squadmate snorted.
"Your coins are worthless here. What exactly are you planning to buy in the middle of a warzone?"
"I heard the markets under Imperial Uncle Liu still accept standard currency."
"Oh? In that case, put me down for a hundred and fifty on the attackers. Wait. Shit. The general!"
The casual crowd scattered instantly.
Yue Jin strode along the battlements, barking a few sharp orders that sent the makeshift gambling circles scrambling for cover. Once the soldiers had vanished, he returned to the parapet and fixed his gaze on the river.
More specifically, on the enemy warships.
If he could somehow lure that floating monster away from the main channel, everything would change.
He could launch a full-scale sortie.
Crush Huang Zhong.
Release the thirty thousand troops trapped inside Xiangyang.
Drive south to Yicheng.
Secure Dangyang.
Cut Guan Yu's supply line.
If every piece fell into place, he could tear apart the entire Jingzhou offensive in a single afternoon.
Another wave of screams drifted over the water from Fancheng.
Yue Jin listened in silence.
He did not know which unfortunate junior officer was leading the latest assault.
He did know one thing.
The attack was failing.
Siege warfare had always been a numbers game. Attackers needed an overwhelming advantage in manpower to force a breakthrough. But with that giant warship dominating the battlefield, Cao Ren's army no longer had room to maneuver. Every assault was being funneled into the same heavily reinforced section of wall.
The defenders knew exactly where the attack was coming.
The attackers had no choice but to keep charging anyway.
Unless Cao Ren had some madman willing to seize a ladder, climb first, and inspire everyone behind him through sheer suicidal bravery, Fancheng was not falling anytime soon.
The thought made Yue Jin's jaw tighten.
His mind drifted back to his own vanguard force.
Six thousand hardened veterans.
The best soldiers under his command.
They had been wiped out during the fighting at Jiangling, dying almost to the last man while holding a collapsing line together.
If those men were still alive...
Yue Jin's fingers curled around the battlement stones.
If those men were still here, he would not be standing on a wall watching someone else's battle.
He would be down there tearing the enemy army apart with his own hands.
---
Inside the command tent north of Fancheng, the atmosphere was grim.
Cao Ren stood over the campaign map, his expression unreadable.
The officers gathered below him looked as though they had just crawled out of a slaughterhouse.
Xu Huang's face was pale beneath the lamplight, one hand pressed against the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, beside him, Wen Pin sat stiffly with his left arm secured in a sling.
For five straight days, they had hurled men against Fancheng's walls.
For five straight days, the city had refused to bend.
Both Xu Huang and Wen Pin had personally led assaults up the ladders. Both had returned bloodied. Neither had anything to show for it.
The silence lingered until Yu Jin stepped forward.
"Let me be direct," he said. "We are bleeding men against those walls for nothing. Every assault costs us soldiers we cannot replace. Every failed charge feeds their confidence and drains ours."
He looked around the tent, meeting each commander's eyes.
"I propose we stop. Stop the assaults. Stop the ladders. Stop throwing bodies at a problem that clearly is not going away."
He pointed at the map.
"We build earthworks. We dig in. We turn this into a war of attrition. Boring? Yes. Glamorous? Absolutely not. But military history is littered with commanders who survived by refusing to do anything foolish."
Cao Ren said nothing.
His gaze remained fixed on the map.
In his mind, he was not looking at walls or troop formations. He was tracing supply routes. Grain depots. River transport. The fragile lifelines stretching back into the north.
The longer this dragged on, the worse their position became.
A war of attrition might break Guan Yu eventually, but it would break us first. That's not caution. That's a creative way to commit suicide.
Without even acknowledging Yu Jin's suggestion, Cao Ren lifted his head and looked toward the tent's chief civilian advisor.
"Master Kuai Yue."
His voice was calm.
"Enlighten me."
Kuai Yue stepped forward.
For the past five days, while the generals had been fighting, he had been watching. Watching the river. Watching the enemy fleet. Watching that monstrous warship.
"That dreadnought is the key," he said.
The tent fell silent.
"As long as it remains on the Han River, Fancheng cannot be taken."
His finger landed on the map.
"If you wish to capture the city, you must first destroy the ship."
Cao Ren almost rolled his eyes. Damn, this is a waste of time. That much was obvious. Everyone in the tent knew it. Even my grandmother would know that. The problem was not identifying the obstacle. The problem was figuring out how to remove it.
But Kuai Yue continued. Slowly. Methodically.
"Forget bravery. Forget numbers. Neither of those will save us here." He leaned over the map and tapped the narrow bend of the Han River just north of the city. "This is our weapon. The river bends here. The water shallows out. Right now, in this season, it's low enough that small boats can cross without being swept away."
He traced a line with his finger.
"We assemble a fleet. Not warships. Small boats. The kind that would never survive open water. But we don't need open water. We just need to reach that ship."
He looked up at Cao Ren.
"The dreadnought is the problem. Geography is the answer."
As the explanation unfolded, Cao Ren leaned closer over the map. His eyes followed the winding course of the Han River. His finger traced the surrounding terrain.
Then, little by little, the corners of his mouth began to rise.
For the first time in days, a spark appeared in his eyes.
"Yeah... at least you're giving me something interesting to work with."
---
The next morning, Guan Yu stood atop the battlements of Fancheng, his brows slightly furrowed.
Something felt off.
The endless waves of Cao soldiers that had been crashing against the city for days were nowhere to be seen. No war drums echoed across the field. No assault ladders advanced toward the walls. Beyond the enemy camp, smoke from cooking fires rose lazily into the morning sky.
The battlefield had gone quiet.
"They've run into a wall," Xu Shu said as he joined him on the ramparts. "A direct assault isn't working. The next step is obvious. They'll start looking for a way to neutralize our advantage on the river."
Xu Shu had never been one to underestimate Cao Cao's side. After absorbing much of Jingzhou's military establishment, the northern army possessed its own shipbuilders, engineers, and officers experienced in river warfare. If brute force had failed, a countermeasure would not be far behind.
"If they still want a quick result," Xu Shu continued, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth, "then there is really only one move left."
He turned toward Guan Yu.
"Yunchang. If the enemy's supply situation remains stable, I suspect you'll be seeing an old acquaintance again before long."
Guan Yu stroked his beard thoughtfully. He trusted Xu Shu's judgment.
"In that case," he said calmly, "I shall await his arrival."
Across the river, Yue Jin had also noticed the sudden lull.
The meat grinder outside Fancheng had finally stopped.
Yet while the fighting had diminished, activity on the river had only increased. Small transport skiffs buzzed back and forth between the supply hub and the besieged city, ferrying crates of arrows, sacks of grain, and every other necessity required to sustain a siege.
Yue Jin watched the traffic and scoffed.
Fancheng was clearly preparing for a long defense. In his eyes, it was a foolish calculation. The Cao army possessed an overwhelming advantage in manpower. If the city somehow survived the current campaign, then spring would eventually arrive. Once it did, boss Cao could easily commit another hundred thousand men to the theater and slowly squeeze Fancheng to death.
Ten days passed.
Then the battlefield changed.
Standing atop Xiangyang's walls, Yue Jin suddenly noticed movement on the river. The dreadnought was retreating. Not repositioning. Retreating. The massive warship slowly backed away from its station and began moving downstream.
The moment it cleared the blockade line, Cao Ren made his move.
War horns erupted across the battlefield. Soldiers poured from the Cao trenches. Standards rose. Drums thundered. From three directions at once, the besieging army surged toward Fancheng, resuming the assault with a ferocity that had been absent for days.
A veteran riverman on the Xiangyang wall suddenly pointed toward the west.
"Look!"
His voice cracked with excitement.
"The western sandbar! The water's dropping! The river's falling!"
Yue Jin immediately turned his gaze downstream. His eyes widened.
It was a viciously effective piece of engineering.
Somewhere upstream, Kuai Yue had identified a narrow choke point where the Han River constricted to less than ninety feet across. Cao army engineers had spent the past ten days constructing a dam across the channel, restricting the river's flow.
The results were immediate. The dreadnought's greatest strength was also its greatest weakness. Its immense size required deep water to operate safely.
Now the water level was falling. If the ship remained where it was, it risked running aground in the mud. Retreat was no longer a choice. It was a necessity.
At that moment, Yue Jin finally understood why Guan Yu had spent the last ten days stockpiling supplies inside Fancheng. The city had lost its heavy naval shield. The floating fortress that had dominated the battlefield was gone. Fancheng now stood alone.
Finally.
A surge of excitement rushed through Yue Jin's veins.
The deadlock is broken. That floating monster is gone. Fancheng is alone.
He gripped the edge of the parapet, his knuckles white.
This is it. This is the moment. No more waiting. No more watching. No more listening to my men whisper about defeat behind my back. Guan Yu's shield is gone. His city is exposed. And I am still here. I am still standing.
His lips curled into a grim smile.
Let's see how long you last without your river monster, Guan Yu. Let's see what happens when I finally get to fight you on solid ground.
---
Cao Ren knew the artificial drought would not last forever. Sooner or later, the Han River would break through the dam and reclaim its course. What he had gained was not a solution, but a window of opportunity.
He intended to use every moment of it.
Orders went out across the siege lines. The assaults would continue without interruption. Infantry attacked throughout the day and pressed on through the night, forcing the defenders to remain on the walls around the clock. If the city could not be taken by storm, then its garrison would be broken through exhaustion.
Cao Ren's attention remained fixed on the siege itself. His eyes followed the ladders, the assault formations, and the battered sections of wall where the fighting was fiercest.
Because of that, he missed a crucial detail.
Guan Yu was gone.
The towering figure in green robes, impossible to mistake on any battlefield, had vanished from the ramparts.
In his place, Xu Shu and the adjutant Zhao Lei rushed back and forth along the walls, drawing swords, issuing orders, and personally rallying exhausted defenders wherever the line threatened to buckle.
Meanwhile, the roar of the night assault concealed another operation unfolding more than twenty miles to the east.
At the bow of a narrow river vessel, Guan Yu stood with his eyes closed, listening quietly to the sound of water striking the hull.
Behind him, pirate captain Gan Gui was busy hissing curses at his sailors.
"Leave the silk sails alone, you fools! And who hung those silver bells there? Are you trying to tell every scout in Jingzhou where we are? Take them down!"
The distant thunder of battle from Fancheng meant nothing to him. His full attention remained on the currents ahead as he guided the lead vessel out of the Han River and into the waters of the Yu River.
The fleet accompanying Guan Yu was nothing like the dreadnoughts that had dominated the siege.
These were old Mengchong assault boats, survivors from the earliest days of Guan Yu's naval training program. Their hulls were narrow, their armor light, and they carried no artillery worth mentioning. They had been built for speed, boarding actions, and river raids.
Speed was now their greatest asset.
When the dreadnought squadron withdrew from Fancheng, Guan Yu had quietly departed with it. Returning first to the supply hub at Dangyang, he exchanged his heavy warships for these lighter vessels and assembled a strike force designed for rapid movement rather than open battle.
Veteran river soldiers manned the oars. Below deck, eight thousand infantrymen rested in cramped silence, conserving every ounce of strength for whatever awaited them ahead.
Nearly a hundred assault boats moved through the darkness in a tight column.
Without torches.
Without banners.
Without a sound beyond the steady rhythm of oars cutting through black water.
One after another, they disappeared into the night, following the Yu River northward as they carved a path deep into enemy territory.
---
Dawn arrived beneath a cold, gray sky.
The first people to spot the ghost fleet were the serfs working the military farms around Xinye.
Gan Gui's hand tightened around the hilt of his blade. Leaning toward Guan Yu, he lowered his voice. "General, should I take a team ashore? If word reaches the watchtowers, we'll lose the element of surprise."
Guan Yu did not even turn his head. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon.
"Raise the flags."
Gan Gui blinked. It was not the answer he had expected, but an order was an order.
The sailors moved quickly. Ropes creaked as a crimson banner climbed the main mast, the character for Han spreading wide in the morning wind. One by one, the rest of the fleet followed suit. Alongside the Han banner, two more flags rose into view. One bore the character 'Liu'. The other bore the character 'Guan'.
Gan Gui watched the riverbank, waiting for the alarm to spread.
What happened instead left him speechless.
The farmers did not run for the watchtowers. They dropped their tools. Men and women who had spent years bent over muddy fields, their faces weathered by forced labor and apathy, suddenly began running toward the river.
Some stumbled into irrigation ditches. Others nearly fell trying to keep pace with the passing boats.
They were exhausted. They were hungry. There was no chance they could keep up.
Still, they ran.
The morning wind carried fragments of their voices across the water.
"Imperial Uncle Liu..."
"General Guan..."
"General Zhang..."
"Hahaha.. Have you come back?"
"Have you come back to kill Cao dogs?"
Gan Gui stood motionless. Slowly, he turned toward Guan Yu.
Guan Yu had already turned from the bow. His eyes followed the people running along the shore. After a long silence, he spoke.
"Years ago, when Cao Cao marched south, the people of Xinye were terrified. They knew what his armies would do. So they left. They abandoned everything. Their homes. Their fields. Their ancestors' graves. And they followed my elder brother."
He paused, watching a farmer stumble into a ditch and scramble back up without slowing down.
"From Xinye to Fancheng. From Fancheng to Xiangyang. At every city, more joined us. Farmers. Merchants. Families with children. Old women who could barely walk. They all came.
For a moment, Guan Yu seemed to be looking at something far beyond the riverbank before him.
"There were so many people that the refugees stretched farther than the eye could see."
His hand settled upon the hilt of his blade.
"Then came Changban."
The rest needed little explanation. His brother was defeated. The refugees scattered. Those who survived were taken north.
Guan Yu's voice dropped lower.
"And they are still waiting for us to come back."
He turned to look at Gan Gui. His eyes were not the eyes of a general giving orders. They were the eyes of a man who had carried this weight for years and would never set it down.
"Do you understand how much that hurts?"
Gan Gui lowered his head. Now he understood. Cao Cao's methods were famous throughout the north. Conquer a region. Relocate its population. Settle them in military agricultural colonies.
The ragged farmers running beside the river were not strangers at all. They were the same people Liu Bei had once tried to protect during the retreat from Changban.
Gan Gui looked up at the banners snapping above the fleet. For the first time, the campaign felt different. This was no longer just a raid behind enemy lines.
"General," he said quietly, "we will not fail them."
Guan Yu shook his head. His gaze never left the riverbank.
"We cannot fail them."
---
When the emergency couriers reached Wancheng, even the veteran officers thought they had heard wrong.
Cao Cao personally rushed up the stone steps of the city wall, breathing heavily by the time he reached the battlements.
Then he looked out toward the horizon.
For a long moment, he simply stood there.
How?
How the hell had Guan Yu gotten here?
Fancheng was still under siege. The Han River was blocked. Every report indicated that Guan Yu's attention should have been fixed on the battlefield to the south.
So how was he standing outside Wancheng?
And more importantly, how had he dared to push this deep into northern territory?
The morning mist had not yet fully dispersed, but Cao Cao could already make out the figure at the head of the enemy army.
The green robes.
The long beard.
The crescent blade resting against one shoulder.
There was no mistaking him.
"Guan Yunchang!"
Cao Cao's voice exploded from the battlements.
"You left Fancheng and marched straight into my rear? What, you think I've got no one left? You think I can't beat you, Yunchang?"
He slammed his palm against the stone.
"Hah. In your dreams."
Unfortunately, the target of his outrage was far too busy to care.
Guan Yu never even looked up.
He was occupied directing engineers and laborers as they established siege camps around the city. Defensive positions were marked out. Supply depots were assigned. Patrol routes were organized.
He looked less like a raider and more like a man preparing for a long stay.
Cao Cao gripped the battlement stones until his fingers ached.
The worst part was that there was very little he could do.
In his determination to crush Fancheng, he had drawn away nearly every available reserve from Wancheng. The city that normally served as a major military hub was now almost empty.
The only reliable fighting force left inside the walls was Xu Chu's bodyguard contingent, along with a scattering of aristocratic retainers.
Charging out with a thousand guards against Guan Yu's eight thousand veterans was not courage.
It was suicide.
After weighing the situation, Cao Cao reluctantly chose the only sensible option.
Stay behind the walls.
Hold out.
And pray the reinforcements marching from Yecheng arrived before Guan Yu decided to attack.
The situation left him thoroughly miserable.
What exactly was Guan Yu waiting for?
The city was weak. The garrison was weak.
Why not strike immediately?
Two days later, he received his answer.
A massive cloud of dust appeared on the southwestern horizon.
Another army was approaching.
Fast.
At the head of the column, a banner whipped violently in the wind.
One character dominated the cloth.
Zhang.
Beneath that banner rode Zhang Fei.
Before he had even reached the city, his laughter was already rolling across the plains.
"Brother!"
His voice struck the battlefield like a clap of thunder.
"You still beat me here!"
Standing atop the walls of Wancheng, trapped between Guan Yu in front and Zhang Fei behind, Cao Cao finally understood what kind of situation he had landed in.
He was screwed..