The urgency in Yang Feng's voice shattered any lingering calm.
"Quickly—bring Gongming here at once!"
Moments later, Xu Huang strode in. Before he could even speak, Yang Feng rushed forward, his composure gone.
"Gongming… save me!"
With visible panic, he revealed the devastating news—Lengquan Pass had fallen.
Xu Huang's expression darkened in shock. He had not expected the Han army to bypass Zhiguan Pass entirely, daring instead to cross Taihang Pass, cut through Qinshui Valley, and strike directly at Lengquan Pass.
That single move severed the link between Yang Feng and Guo Da.
"They've placed themselves between us…" Xu Huang muttered, brows tightening. "A risky move… Are they not afraid of being crushed from both sides?"
In that instant, realization struck him.
So this was Zhang Xin's true plan.
His inaction at Putan had not been hesitation—it had been deception. While everyone believed he was playing a psychological game, he had already laid a far more dangerous trap.
With the Lüliang Mountains to the west and the Taiyue Mountains to the east, Pingyang was now sealed in. The loss of Lengquan Pass had turned their position into a cage.
Their path forward—and retreat—was cut off.
"Do not panic, Commander," Xu Huang said after a moment of thought, forcing calm into his voice. "Guo Da will not ignore this. Lengquan Pass is only forty li from Jiexiu—he has likely already moved to retake it."
He stepped forward, resolve firming.
"Allow me three thousand men. I will attack the pass and join forces with Guo Da to crush the Han army from both sides."
Yang Feng, already shaken, clutched at this plan like a drowning man grasping driftwood.
"Good! Gongming, I entrust this to you!"
But what awaited Xu Huang was not a battlefield—it was collapse.
The White Wave Yellow Turbans refused to fight.
No matter how he shouted, no matter how he threatened, the soldiers would not move. Some stood idle. Others simply sat on the ground.
Their will had already broken.
Rumors had spread like poison—whispers that Yang Feng would eventually surrender, that Zhang Xin would grant land and reward to those who submitted.
Why fight, then?
Why risk death now?
Xu Huang's hands trembled with restrained fury. He wanted to execute a few to restore order—but he knew it might spark mutiny.
The army stood frozen in a deadlock.
Then, without warning—the gates of Lengquan Pass opened.
Zhang Liao led eight hundred elite soldiers charging out like a blade cutting through water.
At the mere sight of the Han forces, the fragile formation shattered completely.
The Yellow Turbans broke.
They fled.
Xu Huang could only grit his teeth and retreat with them, helpless against the tide.
Back in Pingyang, defeat weighed heavily on the air.
Before Xu Huang could even recover, worse news arrived—
Zhang Xin and the Hedong governor had joined forces and taken Wenxi.
Four thousand troops now stood within striking distance.
Yang Feng collapsed where he stood, regret pouring out of him.
"I… should have listened to you…"
His voice trembled with bitterness.
"I rejected surrender… demanded too much… and now… everything is lost…"
Xu Huang closed his eyes briefly, then forced himself to think.
"Not yet," he said firmly.
"Our numbers still exceed theirs. If we stabilize morale and defend the city, we can endure."
He pointed out the weakness in the Han army's position.
"They are deep behind enemy lines. Their supply lines are stretched—cut off between us and Guo Da. If we hold for half a month, they will collapse on their own."
Hope flickered once more in Yang Feng's eyes.
But far away in Wenxi, Zhang Xin was already tightening the noose.
Standing atop the city wall, he watched as enemy scouts lingered in the distance.
"They still hesitate to surrender," he said lightly.
Xun You smiled.
"They see our small numbers—and Gao Shun's isolated position. They still cling to hope."
Zhang Xin's lips curved.
"Then we'll take that hope away."
That night, he ordered a silent maneuver—troops would leave the city under darkness, only to re-enter at dawn with great fanfare.
Confusion became illusion.
Illusion became fear.
At the same time, more cooking fires were lit across the city.
To distant eyes, it looked like reinforcements were pouring in.
Day after day, the same pattern repeated.
Reinforcements.
More smoke.
More numbers.
More pressure.
Inside Pingyang, doubt turned into certainty.
"They've been reinforced…" Xu Huang murmured, unease creeping in.
Yang Feng, however, broke completely.
By the third day, he could endure no longer.
He chose to surrender.
But Zhang Xin had changed the terms.
"The Pingyang magistrate?" he said coldly. "That was yesterday's offer."
"If he wishes to live—he surrenders unconditionally."
Yet even as the envoy left in despair, Zhang Xin quietly set another piece in motion.
He summoned Niu Feng in secret.
"Go to Pingyang," he said softly.
"And tell Yang Feng this—"
"If he still wants that magistrate seat…"
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"…then he must first destroy the Wei family himself."