Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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He gestured faintly toward the vast Hengyuan encampment below. ”Lie Fan has cultivated something dangerous, and that is legitimacy. We lose what little moral high ground we have left, If we turn this into a trap, the people will remember. They would remember not our defiance, but our treachery.”

Xun Yu standing resolute beside him, inclined his head in agreement. ”His Majesty is correct,” he said. ”The realm watches not only who wins, but how. This is a test of character as much as a military gambit. We must meet it.”

Xiahou Dun exhaled sharply, frustration etched into his features. He bowed his head. ”I spoke out of turn. My apologies, Your Majesty. The provocation...”

”Is immense,” Cao Cao finished for him, his eyes never leaving the distant figure of Lie Fan. ”It is natural. You wish to end this here and now.”

His lips curved faintly, though there was no humor in it. But consider this, even if we gave the order, do you think it would end him? That man rode through the thick of Hongnong’s defense. He is called the second God of War for a reason. He and his escorts would turn that patch of ground into a whirlwind of deflected arrows, and he would be galloping back to his lines before our second volley was nocked. We would reveal our desperation and achieve nothing but a few extra notches on his halberd. So if he wished, he could be gone from this killing ground in seconds.”

It was the cold, hard truth. Lie Fan was not a man to be felled by a simple ambush, especially one he had so deliberately walked into.

Xiahou Dun knew it was true. He had heard the reports. He had seen the aftermath of battles where Lie Fan had moved like a force of nature, shattering formations that should not have been broken.

Below, as if sensing the debate above had concluded, Lie Fan tipped his head back. And then he laughed. It was a deep, rolling sound, rich with confidence, echoing up the stone face of the pass as if the mountains themselves were amused.

After that, his voice, powered by a formidable chest and years of commanding armies, boomed up at them, clear and mocking. ”I’m here, Cao Mengde! You called, I came! What grand pronouncement do you have from your last, high perch?”

Cao Cao’s lips twitched.

The familiarity, the use of his style name ’Mengde’, was a calculated insult, a reminder of older, more equal days. Cao Cao felt a flare of old rivalry, cutting through the despair.

For a moment, just a fleeting moment, he felt as though years had peeled away. As though he was no longer the embattled ruler of a shrinking realm, but the ambitious warlord of old, meeting a rival face to face beneath open skies. He leaned forward, gripping the cold stone.

”I merely wished to talk,” Cao Cao replied. ”After all... it seems the two of us are the last remaining warlords, so to speak.” He spread his hands slightly. his own voice carrying with practiced force. ”It has been years since we stood in the same valley, Lie Fan. The board has changed. The pieces have moved. I thought... before the final move is made, we might acknowledge the scale of it.”

Lie Fan laughed again, the sound rich and unfeigned. ”Oh? I didn’t take you for the sentimental type, Brother Mengde! Has the mountain air softened your heart?”

”Sentiment is for fools,” Cao Cao retorted, the old sharpness returning to his tone.”This is acknowledgement. We are the last two who remember what this land was before the blood. A conversation between us has been overdue ever since the moment you raised your banners and began this... campaign against me.”

His gaze swept the plain, the camps, the distant banners snapping in the wind. ”Months of blood and fire. And now the year itself draws to a close.”

He paused, then spoke again, voice carrying clearly. ”The New Year is almost upon us. And since we are here, on the cusp of a new year... I have a proposal. A simple one. For the last day of this year, and the first day of the next, let there be no battle. Let the drums fall silent. Let our soldiers, who have bled enough, have two days to remember they are men, not just weapons. What say you?”

He held his breath. It was a gamble. A request for respite from the weaker position. But it was framed as a mutual courtesy, a nod to shared humanity.

Lie Fan’s response was another booming laugh, but this one held a different note, one of sheer, delighted condescension. ”What a magnificent idea, Brother Mengde! You wish to buy a little time to catch your breath? Of course! You should have just said so!”

He leaned forward slightly in his saddle, eyes gleaming. ”No need to wrap it in pretty words about the soldiers. I understand completely. You are, after all, much older than I am. And I hear from a little bird, that old headache of yours has been acting up again, the one that could drop a bull. Two days of rest might do you good. Wouldn’t want you to expire before the finale, would we?”

The words were a dagger, twisted with a smile. They echoed off the stone of the pass, reaching every straining ear on the walls. A ripple of shock and muttered anger went through the Wei ranks. Their emperor’s weakness, his age, his infirmity, the things whispered in tents were now shouted as taunts by the enemy sovereign.

Faces flushed with shame and rage. Xiahou Dun trembled, his hand white on his sword hilt. Xiahou Yuan looked ready to vault over the parapet. Zhang He stiffened. Even Guo Jia’s eyes widened slightly, surprise cutting through his usual languid composure. Xun Yu’s fingers tightened within his sleeves.

On the parapet, Cao Cao’s fist clenched so tight his nails dug into his palm. The casual cruelty, the public evisceration, was a masterstroke of psychological warfare far more effective than any arrow. But he could not show it. He forced a dry chuckle.

”You always did enjoy your jests, Lie Fan.” Cao Cao said, his voice still controlled, though edged now with steel. ”So, you agree?”

”Of course I agree!” Lie Fan spread his arms magnanimously. ”It is Brother Mengde’s request! Take your two days. Rest your old bones. Let your men have a final meal in peace.”

His smile sharpened. ”And besides, even with a few days of rest, the outcome will not change. In the end, you will still be defeated by me. A few days are but a blink in the span of your defeat.”

The arrogance was staggering, a physical blow to the morale of the watching Wei army. A low, dangerous rumble rose from the Wei ranks.

The archers along the wall shifted restlessly, knuckles whitening on bowstrings. Some spat over the edge in disgust. Others glared down at the lone figure below as if willing their arrows to fly without command.

Xiahou Dun took an involuntary step forward. ”Arrogant—!”

Cao Cao raised a hand sharply, stopping him. He then fought to keep his voice level, to project a strength he no longer felt. ”We do not know the end until the end arrives. The game is not over until the last stone is played. Do not grow arrogant, Lie Fan.”

”Oh, but I am sure,” Lie Fan replied, his tone shifting from mocking to chillingly matter of fact. ”I see the board very clearly. So clearly, in fact, that I will give you some free advice, Brother Mengde.”

The air seemed to thicken.

”When my army finally walks through this pass and we will, whether it’s after the new year or before, you should already be gone. You should be riding hard for Chang’an. Because if you are still here when I arrive...”

He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. Then he finished, his voice dropping into a carrying, icy calm.

”...you will join your eldest son, Cao Ang. And your cousins Cao Hong and Cao Ren. And your loyal hound Xu Chu. And your capable generals Li Dian and Yue Jin. You will all sit together, bound and waiting, for the judgment that comes after the last banner falls.”

The effect was cataclysmic.

On the walls, the carefully maintained discipline shattered like glass. A wave of gasps, followed by shouted questions and cries of disbelief, erupted from the ranks.

The Crown Prince? Captured? Xu Chu? Cao Hong? All of them? The rumors that Xun Yu had tried so desperately to contain were now confirmed by the enemy emperor’s own lips, delivered with pitiless clarity.

The knowledge that their champions were gone, that the future of the dynasty was a prisoner, and that their own emperor had hidden this from them, crashed down with the force of a trebuchet stone.

The archers’ aim wavered. Officers stared at each other in horror. The low hum of anxious conversation became a rising tide of panic and despair.

Cao Cao stood frozen.

For the first time since the war began, something close to regret flickered across his face.

He had wanted this parley.

He had allowed this conversation.

And now, now his soldiers knew.

Below, Lie Fan watched the reaction unfold with the calm certainty of a man who knew exactly where he had struck.

On the parapet, Cao Cao finally spoke again. His voice was quieter now, but no less firm.

”You came here to break spirits,” he said. ”Not to talk.”

Lie Fan inclined his head slightly. ”You called me here, Brother Mengde. I simply answered honestly.”

A pause.

Then Cao Cao laughed softly, dry, weary, and sharp as broken glass.

”Very well,” he said. ”Enjoy your New Year’s truce when the times come.” He turned away from the edge of the parapet. ”Wei will honor it.”

Lie Fan, seeing the chaos he had sown, gave a final, casual wave. ”Enjoy the New Year, Brother Mengde! Make it a memorable one! We will see you after the festivities!”

With that, he wheeled his horse, Pangu. His escort closed around him, and the seven riders began to trot, then canter, back toward the safety of the distant Hengyuan lines, leaving behind a fortress gripped not by resolve, but by the cold, sickening dread of inevitable defeat and betrayed trust.

The siege of Tong Pass had not begun with cannons or ladders, but with a conversation. And in that conversation, the heart of the Wei defense had been punctured. The battle for the pass was already half lost, and it had been lost on the wind with words.

Only when Lie Fan and his party were well beyond effective range did Cao Cao finally exhale. The tension snapped. Officers rushed to restore order, barking commands, forcing shaken soldiers back into discipline. But something fundamental had changed. The truth was out.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty

Age: 35 (202 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 2325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 966 (+20)

VIT: 623 (+20)

AGI: 623 (+10)

INT: 667

CHR: 98

WIS: 549

WILL: 432

ATR Points: 0