The shout rolled across the grounds of Ping Le Guan like thunder.
"The Han army is mighty!"
Tens of thousands of soldiers responded in unison:
"Mighty! Mighty! Mighty!"
The sound shook the very air, echoing beyond the walls and carrying all the way toward Luoyang.
On the high platform, Liu Hong stood tall, his face flushed with excitement.
This—
this was the army he had personally funded, built, and entrusted to one man.
And today, it did not disappoint.
He raised his hand.
Silence fell almost instantly.
Even the faint echoes seemed to retreat.
Liu Hong's gaze swept across the ranks before settling on Zhang Xin.
"Well done!"
His voice carried authority—and unmistakable satisfaction.
"Such an army… even the border generals of old would be hard-pressed to match it!"
The officials below exchanged glances.
Some forced smiles.
Others hid their unease.
The stronger this army appeared—
the more it meant one thing:
Zhang Xin's position had become unshakable.
Liu Hong continued:
"With this force, what is a mere Qingzhou rebellion?"
He turned sharply.
"Zhang Xin!"
Zhang Xin stepped forward immediately and saluted.
"Your Majesty!"
"I appoint you as General in Charge of Suppressing the East," Liu Hong declared, his voice ringing clear, "to lead the Xiyuan Army to Qingzhou and eliminate the Yellow Turbans!"
A brief pause—
then, more heavily:
"You may act with full authority on the field."
That sentence alone caused a ripple through the court.
Full authority.
That meant—
independent command.
Execution rights.
Freedom to mobilize and decide strategy without waiting for imperial approval.
Zhang Xin lowered his head.
"This subject accepts the command!"
Liu Hong nodded, then suddenly smiled faintly.
"Do not forget what you said yesterday."
Zhang Xin also smiled.
"I wouldn't dare."
—
Behind him, several figures stood in silence.
Cao Cao narrowed his eyes slightly, observing Zhang Xin's back.
This man…
He's not just favored.
He's trusted.
And in times like these, imperial trust was more powerful than any title.
Not far away, Yuan Shao clenched his sleeve subtly.
Once, he had considered recruiting Zhang Xin.
Now—
that same man stood above him, commanding everything.
Fate was… ironic.
—
After the ceremony, drums sounded again.
The army began to withdraw in orderly ranks.
But the atmosphere had changed.
This was no longer just a display.
This was a declaration.
The court had shown its blade to the world.
And now—
that blade was about to fall on Qingzhou.
—
That evening, within the Xiyuan camp—
torches burned brightly.
Messengers rode in and out.
Supplies were counted.
Maps were spread across tables.
Zhang Xin stood before a large map, marking routes with his finger.
Qingzhou.
A land already restless.
The Yellow Turbans there were not like scattered remnants—
they had regrouped.
Reorganized.
And were once again growing into a threat.
He tapped lightly on the map.
"Speed is key."
Turning, he looked at his commanders.
"We march at dawn."
No long speeches.
No unnecessary words.
Just one clear order.
From this moment on—
war had begun.