The hall fell into a brief silence.
Yang Feng narrowed his eyes and stared at Zuo Bao. "Fine. Speak. I'd like to hear what kind of tricks you've come up with."
Zuo Bao didn't rush. He calmly brushed his sleeves and said, "I came on behalf of my lord to offer you a way out."
"A way out?" Yang Feng sneered. "I've just taken Pingyang. My army is strong, my granaries are full. What 'way out' do I need?"
Zuo Bao smiled faintly. "Commander Yang, do you truly believe you've won?"
Yang Feng's expression stiffened slightly.
Zuo Bao continued, "Pingyang may have fallen, but your army is now isolated. To the south lies Jiangyi, to the north Taiyuan—but your supply lines are stretched thin. Meanwhile, my lord has already secured Puban and is advancing step by step."
At the mention of this, Yang Feng's gaze darkened.
Zuo Bao pressed on, his tone steady. "Once our forces take Zhiguan Pass and advance to Wenxi, your retreat will be cut off. By then, even if you hold Pingyang, you'll be trapped—like a beast in a cage."
A murmur spread among the surrounding Yellow Turban officers.
Yang Feng slammed his hand on the table. "Nonsense! We still have Commander Guo in the south. Reinforcements can arrive at any time!"
Zuo Bao nodded. "Perhaps. But can they arrive in time?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"Before they come, can you withstand the combined pressure from Hedong and Guanzhong? Can your troops—who have just finished looting—still fight a disciplined imperial army?"
Yang Feng fell silent.
Zuo Bao's words struck precisely where it hurt.
The recent victory had boosted morale—but it had also loosened discipline. Many soldiers were already indulging in plunder, not preparing for another hard battle.
At that moment, Xu Huang stepped forward.
"Then what exactly is your lord proposing?" he asked calmly.
Zuo Bao glanced at him, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes. "You must be Gongming. As expected, you see the situation clearly."
Xu Huang did not respond, only watching him intently.
Zuo Bao spoke plainly, "Surrender."
The word fell like a stone.
Instantly, the hall erupted.
"Outrageous!"
"Traitor!"
"How dare you!"
Yang Feng's face flushed with anger. "You dare come here and tell me to surrender?!"
Zuo Bao raised a hand slightly. "Not surrender without terms—submission with merit."
The room quieted a little.
"My lord bears the title of Marquis Xuanwei and has been entrusted with full authority for this campaign. If you are willing to lay down your arms, he can guarantee your lives—and even recommend you to the court."
He looked directly at Yang Feng.
"Commander Yang, you were once one of the Yellow Turbans. You know very well—this uprising no longer resembles the cause of the Great Virtuous Teacher Zhang Jiao."
At the mention of that name, several soldiers lowered their heads.
"The Way of Peace sought to save the people," Zuo Bao continued. "But what are you doing now? Burning cities, killing civilians… is this the 'Great Peace' you once believed in?"
Yang Feng's fists tightened.
For a moment, he had no answer.
Xu Huang's expression also shifted slightly, though he remained composed.
Zuo Bao softened his tone. "Lay down your arms while you still can. Preserve your strength. There is still a future ahead."
Silence filled the hall once more.
Yang Feng's face flickered between anger and hesitation.
Finally, he let out a cold laugh. "Nice speech. Very convincing."
He stood up slowly.
"But… I don't trust you."
Zuo Bao met his gaze calmly. "Then trust the situation."
Yang Feng's eyes sharpened.
Zuo Bao added one final line:
"My lord is already on the move. Whether you surrender now… or are forced to later—"
He paused.
"—the outcome will not change."
The tension in the hall grew thick, like a storm about to break.