"Yang Feng, the Commander-in-Chief sent me to ask you something."
Zuo Bao looked at him calmly."When you, Guo Da, and Han Xian raised your forces—was it to establish your own regime, or to use this as leverage to seek amnesty from the imperial court?"
Yang Feng blinked in surprise.
"What if we seek amnesty? What if we don't?"
Zuo Bao smiled faintly."The Commander says: if you wish for amnesty, he will personally submit a memorial to request official titles for you."
Interest immediately flashed across Yang Feng's face.
"And if we choose independence?"
Zuo Bao's expression turned indifferent."Do you really think you can defeat my Commander?"
Yang Feng let out a cold laugh."Zhang Xin has only two thousand men. I command over thirty thousand. Why wouldn't I win?"
"What about the tens of thousands stationed in Chang'an?" Zuo Bao countered.
Yang Feng's expression stiffened for a moment—then he quickly laughed it off.
"Come, come, Zhangba—sit, sit. I was only joking."
Zuo Bao sighed inwardly.
Just as the Commander had predicted—these men had no grand ambitions of ruling the realm. They simply wanted to gather strength and bargain for power within the Han system.
"Please, explain in detail," Yang Feng urged eagerly.
In truth, Yang Feng's earlier hostility wasn't because Zhang Xin had "betrayed" the Yellow Turbans.
After all, even leaders like Chu Yan and others from Heishan had accepted Han titles. Who among them was still a true believer?
Their rebellion was nothing more than imitation—following Zhang Xin's and Chu Yan's path, using the legacy of Zhang Jiao to gain status and benefit.
What angered Yang Feng was simple:
Why could Zhang Xin accept amnesty and rise to power—but he could not?
While Zuo Bao negotiated with Yang Feng, the former Yellow Turban soldiers he brought along quietly spread throughout the city.
"Hey, brother—what unit are you from?" one of them asked casually.
"I serve under Commander Li," a White Wave soldier replied. "What about you? I don't recognize you."
"Of course not," the man grinned. "I'm from the Yellow Turbans of Ji Province."
"Ji Province?" Several nearby soldiers gathered curiously.
"Which commander?" one asked eagerly. "Commander Chu? Commander Yang? Commander Bai?"
"None of them," the man said proudly. "Our commander is the son-in-law of the Great Teacher, disciple of the Earthly General—his name is Zhang Xin."
The crowd froze.
"…The son-in-law of the Great Teacher?" someone muttered. Then realization struck."Wait—Zhang Xin? Marquis Xuanwei of the Han court? That's the enemy!"
"Easy, easy!" the former Yellow Turban raised his hands. "No weapons here."
"Yes, our Commander is a Han marquis… but he's also our Yellow Turban Commander."
The White Wave soldiers looked utterly confused.
Each word made sense.Together—they made none.
Seizing the moment, the former Yellow Turbans began painting a vivid picture of life under Zhang Xin.
"Really?" the others asked, eyes wide. "Three wives? Land? Rewards? Even meat to eat?"
"Of course!" the man boasted. "Our Commander is the Great Teacher's son-in-law—how could he mistreat us?"
"Three wives is just the minimum. Some of the brothers with merit have five now!"
A collective gasp swept through the crowd.
A White Wave soldier asked enviously, "Brother… is your commander still taking in recruits?"
"Of course! Didn't he already send people to discuss this with your Commander Yang?"
The surrounding soldiers grew restless.
"Brother," another asked hesitantly, "if we join… will we also get land?"
"Women depend on merit," the man said frankly. "But land? That's guaranteed."
"Land is enough… land is enough…"
Scenes like this played out all across the city.
Meanwhile, in a quiet courtyard—
Three former Yellow Turban soldiers gathered outside.
"Are you sure she's here?" one whispered.
"I confirmed it," another nodded. "Miss Cai is inside."
"Then let's move."
Inside, Cai Yan sat beneath the eaves, a book in hand, her face clouded with worry.
Since the death of her husband Wei Zhongdao, she had been treated coldly by the Wei family for failing to bear children. Eventually, she was moved into this small, neglected courtyard.
Such treatment was not unusual.
"Your husband is dead, you have no sons—why should you occupy our family's property?"
Cai Yan, raised with care by her father Cai Yong, could hardly endure such humiliation.
She had written home, asking to return—but before a reply came, war erupted.
Now Pingyang was under siege. Each day, the sounds of battle echoed beyond the walls.
Her courtyard, humble and overlooked, had so far escaped notice.
A fragile blessing.
But she knew it could not last forever.
If the rebels found her…
A chill ran down her spine.
At that moment, a head wrapped in a yellow turban appeared over the wall—then a man vaulted into the courtyard.
"Ah!" a maid screamed.
Cai Yan trembled, the book slipping from her hands, her face turning pale.
So… it has come.
"Shh!"
The man raised a finger to his lips.
"Miss Cai, do not be alarmed. I serve Marquis Xuanwei."
Her eyes widened.
"Brother Ziqing?"
He nodded, pulling out a yellow turban."I've come under orders to escort you out. Do you have men's clothing?"
She shook her head.
With her husband gone, where would she get such things?
The men moved quickly. They opened the gate, slipped into the street, and lured two unsuspecting White Wave soldiers aside.
Thud. Thud.
Moments later, the two were unconscious.
Their clothes were stripped and brought back.
Soon, three former Yellow Turbans—along with two disguised figures—walked boldly out of the city.
Back at the county office, Zuo Bao rose to leave.
Yang Feng personally escorted him out, smiling broadly.
"I'll trouble you, Zhangba, to convey my request to your Commander."
"Rest assured," Zuo Bao replied.
Once outside, he gathered his men.
"How did it go?"
"Commander Zuo," one replied with a grin, "after hearing about our lives, the White Wave soldiers all want to join us."
"And Miss Cai?"
"She's already been escorted out of the city."