"Tian Yu?"
The moment Zhang Xin heard the name, something flickered in his eyes.
Surprise.
Then something sharper—
Delight.
A man once praised by Liu Bei himself. A man worthy of regret.
That alone was enough.
Men like this did not come twice.
In the years to come, the great powers—Wei, Shu, Wu—would all turn their blades outward, crushing the surrounding tribes beneath iron and fire.
But in the beginning… the north still trembled under the shadow of the Xianbei.
Chieftains like Kebineng bound tribes together in defiance of the Central Plains.
And yet—
One man broke them.
Tian Yu.
Divide them. Turn them against one another. Ally with one, slaughter another. Grind their unity into dust until submission became instinct.
Under his hand, even wolves learned to bow like dogs.
Such a man…
had come on his own.
"Quickly, rise."
Zhang Xin stepped forward personally, lifting him without hesitation.
That single gesture sent a tremor through Tian Yu's chest.
He… helped me up himself?
He had seen Zhang Xin once before—from afar, behind a curtain. A distant figure, untouchable.
But now—
Face to face—
He felt something close to awe.
"So young…" Tian Yu murmured, unable to hide it.
Zhang Xin's gaze shifted past him, sweeping over the young men who had come together.
"You as well. Rise."
"Thank you, Lord!"
Their voices were tight with excitement… and hope.
Zhang Xin turned back to Tian Yu.
Caution lingered beneath his smile.
"Do you have a courtesy name?"
"Yes," Tian Yu answered, steadying himself. "Guorang."
Yuyang. Tian Guorang.
No mistake.
Zhang Xin studied him carefully—youthful, yes. But the eyes…
Alive. Calculating.
"How old are you this year?"
"I have just come of age."
Twenty.
Young enough to shape.
Dangerous enough to matter.
"Yuyang lies over two thousand li away. Why come so far?" Zhang Xin asked.
Tian Yu's voice grew firm.
"When my Lord governed Yuyang, you struck the Wuhuan, broke the Xianbei, and brought order where there was none."
"The people lived."
"They remember."
His eyes burned.
"I only regret… that I was too young then."
"But now—you raise your banner against traitors."
"So I came."
Behind him, the others stepped forward.
"We are willing to give our lives."
No hesitation.
No fear.
Zhang Xin smiled.
"Good."
Then, colder:
"The army is not a place for dreams. Can you endure it?"
"We can!"
They answered instantly.
Whether it was courage… or ignorance…
Zhang Xin did not care.
"Yan Yun," he said, glancing to Wang Ling, "take them. Let them learn what war truly is."
Wang Ling nodded.
"Follow me."
They left.
Tian Yu did not look back.
Zhang Xin watched their retreating figures, the faintest curve on his lips.
That single word—Lord—
was not casual.
It was submission.
Not to rank.
But to power.
And power… he would reward.
Three days later—
Smoke rose in the south.
Thick. Endless.
Like the land itself was burning.
Scouts were sent.
Days passed.
When they returned, their voices carried ash.
"The Emperor has entered Chang'an."
"Dong Zhuo burned Luoyang."
"Palaces. Temples. Homes."
"All gone."
"He executed Grand Tutor Yuan Wei… and Yuan Ji."
"The Yuan clan has been exterminated."
Silence fell.
Then came the final blow—
"His troops drove out the people. They plundered everything."
"Their morale is… high."
Zhang Xin summoned his generals.
Even Tian Yu was brought to watch.
When the report ended, fury erupted.
"Beast!"
"Traitor!"
"Let me lead the vanguard!"
Voices clashed, rising in righteous rage.
Only one man laughed.
Xun You.
Soft.
Cold.
"Dong Zhuo is already defeated."
The tent froze.
Zhang Liao frowned.
"Defeated? How?"
Even Zhang Xin looked at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
He knew the ending.
But Xun You…
did not.
And yet—
he had seen it.
"Dong Zhuo commands one hundred thousand men," Xun You said calmly. "Half are Qin troops. Half are Imperial Guards."
"The Guards… are from the Three Rivers."
His smile thinned.
"He burned their homes."
Understanding spread like poison.
The Imperial Guards had once fought to defend their land.
Now?
There was nothing left to defend.
No home.
No loyalty.
Only ashes.
"They are broken," Xun You continued. "They cannot be used."
Nods followed.
Slow.
Grim.
"And yet Dong Zhuo still chose this."
Xun You's gaze darkened.
"He fears the alliance more than he values his army."
Fear.
In a man like Dong Zhuo—
was fatal.
"What should we do?" Zhang Xin asked.
"Wait."
Confusion rippled again.
"Wait?"
Xun You's voice remained steady.
"The Qin troops have just plundered. Their morale is at its peak."
"Strike now… and you will bleed."
Zhang Liao pressed further.
"How long do we wait?"
"Until they begin to miss home."
A faint smile.
"But there is no home left in Luoyang."
The meaning was clear.
They were guarding a corpse.
An empty city.
No families. No purpose.
Only time… before doubt took root.
Only time… before morale rotted.
Zhang Xin nodded slowly.
If Dong Zhuo had any sense, he would abandon Luoyang entirely—fall back to Chang'an, consolidate, and stretch the alliance's supply lines until they broke.
Instead—
he split his forces.
Held empty ground.
Wasted strength.
He had already lost.
Politically.
Militarily.
Irreversibly.
No wonder Xun You spoke as if the war were over.
Zhang Xin exhaled.
"Then we defend."
A pause.
"But we will not appear idle."
His gaze sharpened.
"Xu He."
"This humble general is here."
"You will lead the vanguard."
A faint smile formed—cold, deliberate.
"Provoke them."
"Draw blood."
"Let them believe we are impatient."
Xu He's eyes lit with understanding.
"Understood."
The trap had already begun to close.
And Dong Zhuo—
didn't even know it yet.