Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Messengers were sent to loyal chieftains, promising spoils and vengeance. But whispers of rebellion had already begun. In hidden circles around the campfires, ambitious chieftains and warriors muttered about leadership, about the old ways, about how the Khans had failed to honor the ancestors with this disgrace.

The unexpected news of the Xianbei’s resounding triumph and the Xiongnu’s crushing defeat rippled through Lie Fan’s network of Oriole Agents, finally reaching him within the serene confines of his study in Xiapi.

The report, delivered in hushed tones and carefully coded script, left him with a knot of surprise. He had anticipated skirmishes, perhaps even a Xiongnu victory, but never such a decisive turn of events where the Xianbei had not only held their ground but had inflicted such grievous losses on their seemingly unstoppable foe.

The details were particularly intriguing. The Xianbei’s shift in tactics, their adoption of defensive structures like wooden fortresses and layered plans, spoke of an adaptation he hadn’t foreseen.

It was as if they had peered into the annals of Han military strategy, absorbing lessons in terrain control and calculated defense. The deliberate use of fire and oil, turning the narrow gorge into a deathtrap, was a testament to their newfound ingenuity, a stark contrast to the open field warfare typically associated with the steppe nomads.

The mention of Jirgal, a name absent from the history of his past life, further piqued his interest. A Xianbei raised with both nomadic traditions and Han knowledge, it explained much of the change in the Xianbei.

This hybrid upbringing likely provided the strategic insight that allowed the Xianbei to anticipate the Xiongnu’s brute force and counter it with cunning and well prepared defenses.

The report painted a vivid picture of the Xiongnu, initially brimming with confidence, lured into a meticulously crafted killing ground.

Lie Fan carefully placed the letter on his lacquered desk, his mind already racing with the implications. The balance of power in the northern territories had shifted, albeit unexpectedly.

He would have to recalibrate. The Ma Clan’s brewing rebellion in the west remained a crucial element of his strategy. He still intended to leverage their uprising to exert pressure on Cao Cao’s western flank, a subtle nod to their secret alliance, which he agreed to in the first place just to gain Ma Chao’s goodwill so that he would come to him in the future.

This would ideally divert Cao Cao’s attention and resources even further, as he had to oversee the Xiongnu in his north so that they wouldn’t be defeated, and quel the Ma Clan rebellion. So this will create an opening for him to move towards Liu Bei’s territories.

Two months bled into the next, the northern conflict between the Xiongnu and Xianbei evolving into a grim war of attrition. The Xiongnu, chastened by their initial humiliation, adopted a more cautious approach, their once ferocious charges replaced by probing attacks and attempts to outmaneuver the entrenched Xianbei.

But Kuitou’s forces, emboldened by their initial success and likely under Jirgal’s continued guidance, held firm. They had tasted victory, and the memory of the burning gorge fueled their resolve. The war became a slow, grinding affair, each side wary of another decisive engagement.

Meanwhile, inside Liu Bei’s domain in Jing Province, a different kind of battle was unfolding, a battle for hearts and minds. The carefully constructed edifice of Liu Bei’s virtuous image was beginning to crack under the weight of insidious rumors.

Whispers, like tendrils of poison ivy, snaked through his ranks, questioning his benevolence, painting him instead as a manipulative and self serving hypocrite.

At this time, Liu Bei sat in his private chambers, his face pale as he read the latest reports. The rumors, once dismissed as baseless slander, had taken root. Tales of empty granaries, of villages taxed into starvation while Liu Bei dined with wealthy merchants, of hidden ledgers proving his exploitation, and many more.

Some were lies, carefully crafted by Cang Xiu and the Oriole agents unbeknownst to Liu Bei. But some... some were truths, pieces of evidence that Kuai Yue and Kuai Liang had gained and given to Cang Xiu to be spread, which Liu Bei had thought he buried forever.

His hands trembled as he set the parchment down.

”This cannot be happening. How come it comes to this.”

His two sworn brothers, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei remained steadfast, their loyalty unshaken, not believing the rumors, yet. Ju Shou, who was a pragmatist and felt he owed a debt of life to Liu Beu, had not voiced his doubts, but Liu Bei could see the hesitation in his eyes but still chose to remain loyal.

As for the others?

The Kuai brothers had grown significantly distant. Wang Xiu had stopped coming to the weekly court meeting. Sun Guan, once fervent in his devotion, now answered orders with mechanical precision. Chen Dao only holed up in the barracks, training the army, and never came to visit him like he used to.

Even Cang Xiu and Liao Hua, the two young generals he had plucked from obscurity from the Martial contest, seemed to watch him with a new wariness and doubt.

The foundation of his rule was crumbling, and for the first time in many years, Liu Bei began to feel true despair. It was a sensation he had long buried beneath triumphs and survival, ambition, and belief, but it resurfaced now with chilling familiarity.

The last time he felt this hollow, this helpless, was when he had lost Qing Province to Lie Fan. That day still haunted him, and now, the specter of failure loomed again, cloaked in whispers and betrayed trust.

Paranoia crept into the corners of his thoughts, slinking between suspicion and certainty. Every bowed head could be mocking him. Every report might contain a new betrayal. The corridors of power that once rang with loyalty now echoed with doubt.

As Liu Bei sat hunched over his desk, eyes sunken and fingers twitching near the edges of the latest damning parchment, the heavy silence of the room was broken by the soft creak of the door. Lady Gan entered, her presence serene despite the storm in his mind.

”My lord,” she said gently. ”Liu Qi has come to visit. He is accompanied by Liu Pan and Fu Xun.”

Liu Bei blinked, dragging his thoughts away from dread. ”Liu Qi?” he repeated, his voice stiff before softening with practiced calm. The mask slipped back into place, the benevolent fatherly ruler. ”Did he say why he has come?”

Lady Gan shook her head, her gaze lingering on him with worry. Liu Bei offered her a faint smile and rose slowly.

In the main hall, Liu Qi stood near the entrance, posture respectful but face lined with concern. Liu Pan waited at his side, quiet and impassive, while Fu Xun’s brows were furrowed, eyes darting, voice low as he whispered to him.

”You should consider leaving Jing Province, young master,” Fu Xun murmured. ”Bring Xinye with you. Sever ties with Liu Bei. Seek shelter to Lie Fan. The rumors—”

”—are slander,” Liu Qi interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. ”I owe my life to God father. These words are lies, slanders, nothing more.”

Fu Xun let out a slow breath, the weight of unspoken truths pressing against his ribs. He had long known the truth about Liu Bei’s ambition, the acts hidden beneath the robes of virtue. Perhaps Liu Bei had sensed that, which was why Fu Xun had gone away from Xiangyang in the first place.

He turned a pointed glance at Liu Pan, silently pleading for support. But Liu Pan only shook his head. He knew his cousin too well. He had inherited his father, Liu Biao’s, stubbornness. Without irrefutable proof laid bare before his eyes, he would not waver.

Before further argument could unfold, the sound of approaching footsteps silenced them. Liu Bei entered the hall with his usual composed grace. The lines on his face were hidden well, the cracks in his resolve masked beneath a calm smile.

”Qi’er,” he greeted warmly. ”Pan’er. Master Fu Xun. What a surprise to see you all here.”

The three stood and bowed respectfully.

”Please, sit.”

Once everyone was seated, Liu Bei looked at Liu Qi. ”What brings you to me, Qi’er?”

Liu Qi hesitated for only a moment. ”God father... there are troubling rumors spreading through the province. About... about famine in the villages, heavy taxes, wealth hoarded among merchants while the commoners starve. People speak of ledgers, of documents...”

Liu Bei’s smile faltered for just a brief moment, so brief that only someone watching him with hawk like precision would’ve caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

But he quickly recovered, adjusting his sleeve as he leaned slightly forward, exuding the warmth and fatherly aura that had won him so many hearts over the years.

”And you have come to ask me why I have done nothing to stop them?” he said, his voice rich, practiced affection, and soft, almost wounded. ”Do you too believe such things, Qi’er?”

Liu Qi shook his head earnestly. ”No. Never. But I am worried. The people... they are losing faith. I had to see for myself. To hear from you, God father.”

Liu Bei exhaled deeply, pressing his fingers to his temples. ”You do not know what it is to bear the burden of an entire province on your shoulders. I have done what I must to keep the peace, to feed the hungry. But there are always enemies. Always those who seek to tear down what we build.”

”Then... the rumors that have fake evidence are lies, correct?” Liu Qi asked, his voice gentle, pleading for clarity.

Liu Bei paused. A beat too long. ”There may have been mistakes. Some local magistrates may have acted out of turn and this worsens the rumors. I have already sent men to investigate.”

Fu Xun’s fingers twitched against his robe. He nearly spoke, but Liu Pan subtly shook his head again. Not now. Not without proof.

Liu Bei’s gaze flicked between the three of them, reading the doubt behind their masks. ”Do you all think so little of me? After all, we have endured together?”

”No,” Liu Qi replied quickly. ”Never. But I fear the damage these lies may do to your reputation and prestige, God father.”

Liu Bei nodded, rising to his feet. ”Then help me, Qi’er. Stand with me. Silence these lies with the truth of your loyalty.”

Liu Qi rose too, bowing. ”You have my loyalty, God father. Always.” Fu Xun and Liu Pan exchanged one final glance. The path had been chosen, for better or worse. As the three left later that day, Fu Xun’s heart was heavy. He had seen the cracks behind Liu Bei’s mask. And he feared that soon, those cracks would split wide enough for all to see.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 33 (200 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 1325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 951 (+20)

VIT: 613 (+20)

AGI: 598 (+10)

INT: 617

CHR: 96

WIS: 519

WILL: 407

ATR Points: 0