The moment the news spread, panic rippled through the coalition like a plague.
Fear followed quickly behind it—cold, suffocating, inescapable.
One Dong Zhuo had already pushed them to the brink. If Zhang Xin truly joined him, then what remained of their fragile alliance would collapse without resistance.
Some even began to wonder if disbanding now would be the wiser choice.
Envoys were dispatched in haste, galloping through dust and exhaustion toward Zhang Xin's camp. They needed answers—any answers—before suspicion devoured them from within.
The first to arrive was Yuan Shao's envoy.
"Marquis Xuanwei," he said stiffly, "I come under orders to ask: are the rumors true? That you intend to turn on General Yangwu… and pledge yourself to Dong Zhuo?"
Zhang Xin didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, his gaze darkening.
So this is your move…
He understood now.
From the moment Dong Bai entered Qingzhou, the trap had already been set. What followed was inevitable.
Dong Zhuo had not merely sent his granddaughter away to preserve his bloodline. He had turned her into a blade—one that cut without ever being drawn.
A single gesture had achieved multiple ends: honoring an agreement, securing his lineage, and more importantly… tearing apart the trust between allies.
And the cruelest part?
It didn't matter whether the rumor was true.
Suspicion alone was enough.
Zhang Xin's lips curled faintly, though there was no warmth in it.
I underestimated you.
He finally spoke.
"Yes, Dong Zhuo sent his granddaughter here."
The envoy stiffened.
"But I have neither married into his family nor sworn allegiance to him," Zhang Xin continued calmly. "I have not betrayed the alliance."
He did not bother to deny the obvious.
There was no point.
The carriages had been seen. The movement could be traced. Lies would only deepen the suspicion already festering in their hearts.
Better to stand in the open—to let them choke on the truth instead.
The envoys came one after another, and each received the same answer.
Some believed him.
Some pretended to.
Others… did neither.
Suspicion lingered like rot beneath the surface.
Only a few, like Sun Jian, accepted his words without hesitation.
Elsewhere, the coalition attempted to steady itself. They clung to reason where they could.
After all, Zhang Xin's teacher remained in Dong Zhuo's grasp. Protecting the old man's granddaughter could be justified—filial piety was still a virtue no one dared openly condemn.
But justification was not the same as trust.
And trust, once cracked, never truly healed.
Cao Cao saw through it clearly.
"This is nothing but a scheme to divide us," he said coldly. "Only fools would fall for it."
Yet even as he spoke, the damage had already been done.
Days later, Yuan Shao made his move.
Another envoy arrived—this time carrying letters.
A demand.
A test.
They urged Zhang Xin to kill Dong Bai… to prove his loyalty beyond doubt.
When Zhang Xin read the letter, something in him hardened.
"Do you take me for a beast like yourself?" he muttered.
His reply was swift—and merciless.
"You speak of righteousness, yet your own family was slaughtered, and still you sit idle, drowning yourself in indulgence."
"I am not like you. I have lost my parents. I have only one teacher left—and I will not abandon him."
"And you—leader of the alliance in name—what have you done? While others bleed and fight, you linger behind, currying favor and hoarding influence. Tell me… what exactly are you planning?"
He didn't stop there.
Copies of the letter were sent to every lord.
Let them judge.
Let them see.
Let the rot spread openly.
And spread it did.
Whispers turned into murmurs. Murmurs into silent glances.
For all his reputation, Yuan Shao's inaction was no longer invisible.
Even those who had once admired him began to question.
If his own family had been massacred… why had he done nothing?
In Ye City, Han Fu felt the shift keenly.
Yuan Shao's power was growing too fast—far too fast.
What began as ten thousand troops had swelled into tens of thousands. Men flocked to him endlessly, drawn by his name, his influence… his ambition.
Meanwhile, Han Fu bore the burden.
Grain.
Always grain.
Hundreds of thousands of soldiers consumed endlessly, devouring Jizhou's reserves like a bottomless pit.
Half a year of strain had already carved deep wounds into his territory.
And now, a chilling thought took root.
If this continues… will Jizhou still belong to me?
Fear made his decision for him.
He began cutting the grain supply.
Quietly.
Carefully.
But decisively.
When news of Zhang Xin's letter reached Yuan Shao, his restraint shattered.
"That whelp dares to mock me?" he roared.
"Good! He wants action? I'll give him action!"
Two days later, Wang Kuang marched with twenty thousand troops to Mengjin, setting camp beside Zhang Xin's forward forces.
On the surface, it was reinforcement.
In truth, it was something far darker.
Orders had already been given.
Watch.
Wait.
Strike when the moment came.
Wang Kuang's men didn't prepare for battle against Dong Zhuo.
They circled Zhang Xin's camp like vultures, probing, observing… waiting for weakness.
The alliance was already turning inward.
When Zhang Xin received the report, he summoned Xun You.
"Dong Zhuo's scheme has taken root," he said quietly. "The fracture is real now. What would you suggest?"
Xun You frowned deeply.
"There is only one path left. You must appease Yuan Shao—repair the relationship before it breaks completely."
Zhang Xin shook his head.
Appeasement?
To bow his head now would not mend anything.
It would only invite further contempt.
Yuan Shao would not forgive.
He would exploit.
Before they could continue, another report arrived.
Zhang Liao had come in person.
The moment he entered, the atmosphere shifted.
The answer was already clear before he spoke.
"The grain supply has been cut off."
Silence fell.
Cold. Heavy. Suffocating.
Yuan Shao had made his decision.
This was no longer suspicion.
This was preparation for war.
"Grain is our lifeline," Xun You said urgently. "If we do not act now—"
Zhang Xin raised a hand, stopping him.
His expression was… strangely calm.
Almost amused.
"Do you really think," he said softly, "that Dong Zhuo went through all this… just to create this situation?"
Xun You froze.
A chill ran through him.
"…My lord… what are you planning?"
Zhang Xin's smile deepened—but there was no light in his eyes.
"Since he has laid the board for us… why not play his game?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"And use his own scheme… against him."
Xun You's face turned pale as he listened.
When Zhang Xin finished, silence lingered between them.
Then, slowly, Xun You spoke—his voice strained.
"My lord… this path is too dangerous."
"One misstep… and everything will be lost."
But Zhang Xin said nothing more.
His gaze had already drifted elsewhere—
—as if he were looking beyond the battlefield,
into something far darker.