Cao Cao's anger came quickly—
And burned out just as fast.
"Dong Zhuo is lawless!" he snapped, unable to restrain himself. "My lord, we should strike at once!"
Zhang Xin did not answer.
He only looked at him.
Then—
Calmly—
"Will you go?"
The question fell like a stone into still water.
Cao Cao froze.
The words caught in his throat.
Because in that instant—
He remembered.
The man on the mountain.
Xu Rong.
The one who had shattered his thirty thousand like dry branches… with barely a third of that force.
The memory was not distant.
It still lingered in his bones.
In the silence that followed—
His anger dissolved.
"…I…"
He forced a smile.
Thin. Awkward.
"What does my lord intend?"
Zhang Xin's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer.
Then shifted away.
"Wait."
Just one word.
But immovable.
"Xu Rong is no ordinary general," Zhang Xin continued. "He holds the high ground. His troops have just been rewarded. Their morale is high."
His tone was steady.
Measured.
"As of now—"
"If we attack…"
"We lose."
Cao Cao lowered his head slightly.
Not in submission—
But in recognition.
He had seen defeat.
He knew its shape.
"…Understood."
He did not ask how long.
He did not question further.
Because he already sensed it—
Zhang Xin was not a man who waited without reason.
So instead—
He watched.
He learned.
Days turned into weeks.
Cao Cao visited the camp often.
Sometimes to ask.
Sometimes to observe.
Sometimes—
Just to see.
The soldiers drilled without rest.
Movements sharp.
Formations precise.
No wasted motion.
No unnecessary noise.
It was not just discipline—
It was control.
Total.
Relentless.
Zhang Xin watched Cao Cao in return.
Measured him.
Weighed him.
This man—
Had come from afar.
With troops.
With grain.
With ambition carefully hidden beneath humility.
And that made him dangerous.
If I teach him…
He may one day stand against me.
The thought lingered.
Cold.
Practical.
Then kill him?
No.
Zhang Xin dismissed it immediately.
Not because he could not—
But because he should not.
Killing Cao Cao now—
Would not remove a threat.
It would create one.
In the hearts of men.
In the whispers of the world.
In the fragile thing called loyalty.
Some enemies—
Could not be killed.
Not yet.
So in the end—
Zhang Xin chose restraint.
He taught.
But only the surface.
Only enough.
Cao Cao absorbed everything.
Like dry earth drinking rain.
Every lesson—
Tested.
Refined.
Applied.
Time passed.
Unnoticed.
Winter came.
Snow fell over the camps in silence.
The Yellow River froze—its surface hard, unyielding.
Like the war itself.
Grain ran low.
Promises remained promises.
Han Fu gave words—
But no food.
Far away—
Yuan Shao rebuilt.
Not to recover—
But to try again.
Zhang Xin moved pieces quietly.
Letters sent.
Troops repositioned.
Barriers strengthened.
A net tightening—slowly, invisibly.
Then—
The alliance collapsed.
Hundreds of thousands—
Gone.
Not slain.
Not defeated.
But dissolved.
Into hunger.
Into fear.
Into nothing.
Cao Cao laughed bitterly.
"An army that feasts more than it fights…"
"…deserves to starve."
Zhang Xin said nothing.
Because he had never expected anything from them.
Then came the second news.
More absurd.
More desperate.
They would crown a new emperor.
Liu Yu.
A replacement.
A symbol.
A lie.
Zhang Xin understood immediately.
This was not about the throne.
This was about him.
He had won too much.
Too cleanly.
Too decisively.
And so—
They chose to exclude him.
To dilute him.
To erase him.
He did not react.
Because he already knew—
It would fail.
Men like Liu Yu—
Would not accept crowns soaked in opportunism.
The world was fracturing.
But not all fractures led to collapse.
Some—
Led to clarity.
Cao Cao raged again.
At the lords.
At their weakness.
At their blindness.
But this time—
Another voice spoke.
Xun You stepped forward.
Calm.
Composed.
As if the chaos outside did not exist.
"My lord."
"I have a plan."
Silence fell.
Zhang Xin's eyes sharpened.
"Speak."
The strategy unfolded.
Layer by layer.
Precise.
Elegant.
Deadly.
When it ended—
Even the air seemed to tighten.
"Brilliant…"
Cao Cao whispered.
His gaze burned.
Not with envy—
But desire.
I want this man.
Zhang Xin did not speak immediately.
He thought.
Measured.
Turned the plan over in his mind—
Testing its weight.
Its risks.
Its cost.
Then—
He nodded.
"Feasible."
Xun You exhaled slowly.
Relief.
At last—
He had proven his worth.
Zhang Xin rose.
No hesitation.
No delay.
"Guards!"
His voice cut through the camp like a blade.
"Summon all generals."
"We convene—now."
Torches lit the night.
Messengers rode out.
The army stirred.
Two hours later—
They gathered.
All of them.
Cao Cao stood among them.
And for the first time—
He saw it clearly.
Dian Wei.
Zhang Liao.
Yu Jin.
Yue Jin.
Xu Huang.
Zhao Yun.
Men like weapons.
Forged.
Sharpened.
Ready.
Each one—
Enough to command an army.
Together—
A force that could change the world.
A strange feeling rose in his chest.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
If these men are his…
Then what am I?
Loss.
Before even losing.
Zhang Xin stepped forward.
No wasted words.
No grand speeches.
He laid out the plan.
Cold.
Precise.
Unavoidable.
When he finished—
He looked at them all.
His gaze steady.
Unshaken.
"The opportunity to defeat Dong—"
He paused.
"Is today."
Outside—
The snow continued to fall.
Silent.
Unforgiving.
As if the heavens themselves—
Were waiting to see who would survive what came next.