When news of the Yuan clan's extermination spread—
The world trembled.
Outrage.
Grief.
Righteous fury.
Or perhaps… opportunity.
Men who called themselves loyalists rose in droves, raising the Yuan banner as if it were a sacred relic.
They surged like a tide.
But tides do not choose direction.
They follow advantage.
Most went to Yuan Shao.
Very few went to Yuan Shu.
Yuan Shu was furious.
"I am the legitimate son!"
"I am the Alliance Leader!"
"And yet they go to that bastard?!"
His voice cracked with rage.
"Blind fools… all of them!"
Yuan Shao, on the other hand, smiled.
Banquets filled Huai County.
Wine flowed like rivers.
Guests came endlessly.
Prestige gathered around him—
Thick as smoke.
Han Fu watched from the shadows.
And grew uneasy.
Elsewhere—
Sun Jian moved.
Fast.
Decisive.
He struck Guangcheng Pass without hesitation.
But the pass stood firm.
High walls.
Disciplined defenders.
No weakness.
For two days, he tested it.
For two days, he failed.
Then he withdrew.
Cleanly.
Without hesitation.
Even a tiger knows when to retreat.
North of the river—
Zhang Xin had already moved.
Wild King became a fortress.
Heyang, a spearpoint.
Qinshui—
A shadow.
Three camps.
Visible.
Orderly.
Deceptive.
Xu He held the front.
Three thousand elites.
Provoking.
Testing.
Bleeding.
Zhang Xin stood in the center.
Five thousand cavalry.
Waiting.
Watching.
Zhang Liao guarded the rear.
Ten thousand troops.
Supply lines.
Laborers.
The visible backbone.
But the real backbone—
Was hidden.
Near the Taihang Mountains.
Zhao Yun.
Three thousand men.
Silent.
Invisible.
And at night—
Ghosts moved.
The Black Mountain Army.
Carrying grain.
No banners.
No drums.
Only shadows.
The army existed—
Because it was unseen.
By April—
The river stirred.
Xu He began his feints.
Crossing.
Retreating.
Testing the enemy's nerves.
Across the river—
Niu Fu watched.
And beside him—
Jia Xu.
Cold.
Patient.
Watching patterns.
"It is a feint," Jia Xu said.
"Then we make it real."
At Xiaoping Ford—
They crossed.
Quietly.
When Xu He moved again—
They struck.
Not hard.
But precise.
Forty.
Fifty men.
Dead.
Xu He retreated immediately.
Orderly.
Controlled.
A small loss.
But enough.
Back in camp—
He wrote his report.
Zhang Xin read it without expression.
"Xiaoping Ford…"
His eyes lingered on the map.
No anger.
No blame.
A feint that bleeds is still a success.
"Enough."
Orders were sent.
Feints stopped.
Morale restored.
And the report—
Was sent outward.
Yuan Shao read it—
And laughed.
"That brat is nothing."
Wang Kuang nodded eagerly.
"Just so."
At Suanzao—
The reaction was different.
Fear.
Sun Jian failed.
Zhang Xin stalled.
And they?
Drank.
Laughed.
Waited.
Cao Cao did not laugh.
He read the report again.
Carefully.
A minor loss.
Nothing more.
But others saw something else—
Excuse.
Reason.
Justification.
If even they fail…
Why should we move?
Cao Cao's gaze hardened.
"Gentlemen."
He stood.
"We came to suppress rebellion."
"And yet we do nothing."
Silence.
"Dong Zhuo burned the capital."
"Abducted the Son of Heaven."
"That is not strength—"
"It is fear."
His voice sharpened.
"This is Heaven's will!"
"A chance to end him!"
Still—
No one moved.
Wine was poured.
Excuses followed.
Cao Cao understood.
They were afraid.
So he decided—
He would not be.
"If they will not move…"
His eyes darkened.
"Then I will."
Chenggao.
Break the gate—
And the road to Luoyang opens.
That was his gamble.
Five thousand men.
His own.
Zhang Miao sent three thousand more.
Bao Xin—
Twenty thousand.
Even his seven hundred cavalry.
Thirty thousand.
On paper.
Enough.
Or so it seemed.
They marched west.
Supplies creaking behind them.
Dust rising beneath their feet.
At Xingyang—
They met the enemy.
Xu Rong.
He looked at them.
And understood instantly.
Disorder.
Noise.
Weakness.
He did not hesitate.
The cavalry struck first.
Like a blade.
They cut through the formation—
Before it even formed.
Panic spread.
Infantry followed.
Relentless.
Precise.
"Hold the line!"
Cao Cao shouted.
"Form ranks!"
No one listened.
Or rather—
They couldn't.
Too many commanders.
Too many voices.
Too little discipline.
Thirty thousand men—
Moving as one?
Impossible.
Against veterans—
It was slaughter.
The battle lasted a day.
By dusk—
It was over.
The coalition army—
Was gone.
Not defeated.
Erased.