Zhang Xin leaned back slightly, his expression turning grim.
Three thousand… against tens of thousands—perhaps more.
And worse—
not even fully equipped.
Even a capable commander would feel the pressure in such a situation.
The hall fell silent. Even Xun You frowned, clearly weighing options.
—
After a long pause, Zhang Xin suddenly let out a breath and smiled faintly.
"This battle… we cannot fight head-on."
Everyone looked up.
He tapped the table lightly.
"The enemy has numbers. We have structure."
"They have momentum. We have discipline."
Then his eyes sharpened.
"So we break them… not by force, but by fracture."
—
Xun You's eyes flickered.
"My lord means… to divide them?"
"Not just divide," Zhang Xin replied calmly. "We make them divide themselves."
—
He stood up and walked toward the map.
"The Yellow Turbans outside Pingyuan—though they appear organized—are still a coalition of different groups."
"Especially if the commander is indeed someone like Xu He…"
Zhang Xin tapped the map.
"A capable leader can stabilize an army—but not instantly unify hearts."
—
He turned back.
"First—we spread rumors."
The officials exchanged glances.
Zhang Xin continued:
"Send people into nearby villages. Spread word that the court has issued an amnesty—those who surrender early will be spared and given land."
"Also say… that certain Yellow Turban leaders are secretly negotiating surrender."
A faint smile appeared.
"Let suspicion grow."
—
The Prefect of Pingyuan hesitated.
"Will that… work?"
"It doesn't need to fully work," Zhang Xin said. "It only needs to shake them."
—
He raised a second finger.
"Second—we harass, but do not engage."
"Use cavalry to strike supply gatherers, isolated units, scouts."
"No full battles."
"Make them restless. Make them tired."
Zhang Xin glanced toward the direction of the camp.
"Men who cannot win quickly… begin to doubt."
—
Xun You nodded slowly now.
"And the third?"
—
Zhang Xin's expression grew colder.
"Third… we cut their food."
—
That made everyone straighten.
"The Yellow Turbans may have numbers," Zhang Xin continued, "but they rely on foraging."
"If we secure the surrounding granaries and move or burn excess grain…"
"They will be forced to move."
"And when a large army moves in hunger—"
He tapped the map sharply.
"—that is when formations break."
—
Silence filled the hall.
Even the Prefect of Pingyuan felt a chill.
This wasn't a straightforward battle plan—
This was systematic dismantling.
—
After a moment, Xun You spoke with quiet admiration:
"My lord… intends to win without risking decisive battle."
Zhang Xin shook his head slightly.
"No."
He looked toward the north.
"I intend to choose when the decisive battle happens."
—
Then he gave the final order:
"Send word to Gao Shun—have him bring the remaining troops and fortify the rear."
"Zuo Bao—double cavalry patrols starting tomorrow."
"Prefect—secure all grain within fifty li. Move what we can, burn what we cannot."
"No one feeds the enemy."
—
He paused.
"And… prepare envoys."
Everyone looked puzzled.
"Envoys?"
Zhang Xin smiled faintly.
"Yes."
"If the opposing commander is truly Xu He…"
"I want to talk to him."
—
That last sentence stunned the room.
Negotiate?
With the Yellow Turbans?
—
But Zhang Xin had already made up his mind.
If he could win by breaking the enemy—
he would.
If he could win by turning the enemy—
even better.
After all—
killing ten thousand was never as valuable as taking ten thousand.