Lieren County, the county government office.
Lu Zhi sat kneeling at the head of the room, his brow locked in a tight frown. To his left sat Cao Cao, a man of short stature with a piercing gaze, while to his right sat Dong Zhuo, burly and corpulent, sporting thick whiskers and hair.
Melons, fruit, and wine were set before all three, though the hall lacked any musicians to play or beauties to dance.
Lu Zhi took a swallow of wine and let out a faint, heavy sigh.
Seeing him so dejected, Cao Cao felt a touch of dissatisfaction and spoke up: "Lord Lu, why must you be like this? It was merely a single defeat. Have you lost your fighting spirit over this?"
Dong Zhuo's fleshy face gleamed with oil. Hearing this, he narrowed his eyes and surveyed both Cao Cao and Lu Zhi.
Facing Cao Cao's indignation, Lu Zhi smiled helplessly. "This has nothing to do with victory or defeat."
Cao Cao frowned. "Are you troubled by the matter of gods and immortals?"
Although he and Dong Zhuo had only just arrived in Lieren, they had already heard rumors about the Yellow Sky Holy Infant descending to the mortal realm when they first entered Ji Province.
Neither of them believed it, however—especially Dong Zhuo, a reckless rogue who feared neither heaven nor earth. Having slaughtered countless men, he sneered at talk of ghosts and spirits.
Cao Cao did not believe it either, though it left an uncomfortable, unsettling prickle in his chest.
Lu Zhi nodded slightly. "Indeed. If we do not understand the matter of the divine, our army is doomed to defeat the moment we march."
Cao Cao fixed a sharp gaze on Lu Zhi, who met it with utter calm.
"You are boosting the moth-rebels' morale and crushing our own prestige," Cao Cao said with slight displeasure. Still, Lu Zhi's fame resounded across the realm, so he was obliged to show respect.
Lu Zhi sighed.
He had known all along that these commanders forged in mountains of blades and seas of fire would never believe tales of gods and spirits; they would only assume he had been routed by the Yellow Turban Army and scared out of his wits.
Cao Cao spoke with impassioned vigor: "Lord Lu, Cao is willing to lead troops to patrol the vicinity of Quzhou and Guangzong to hunt down and slay the Yellow Turban skirmishers!"
As an imperial Cavalry Commandant, backed by immense family wealth, Cao Cao commanded roughly five thousand men. Fifteen hundred of them were cavalry alone—swift as the wind, perfectly suited for surprise raids and carving up the battlefield.
Lu Zhi waved his hand and refused.
Even though the imperial court had stripped him of his title as General of the Household, his prestige was more than enough to keep a newcomer like Cao Cao in check. Of course, if Cao Cao insisted on disregarding the elder statesman's face and sallying forth anyway, there would be little Lu Zhi could do to stop him.
Seeing Lu Zhi repeatedly refuse, Cao Cao could not help turning his gaze toward Dong Zhuo. Dong Zhuo was a shrewd man; he simply buried his head in his cup, having no intention of backing Cao Cao's push to deploy.
Dong Zhuo held only eight thousand men under his command: four thousand were his Liangzhou veterans, his foundational core, while the other four thousand had been allocated to him by the court and local authorities.
If he sallied forth and met with defeat, losing his core Liangzhou troops down to the last man, he would be weeping bitter tears.
Cao Cao felt a fire burning in his chest, wishing he could point at these two cowards and curse them out.
'In times like these, why does everyone care only for their own petty, squalid interests? Is there no one left who is loyal and true, willing to support and restore the Han dynasty?!'
Suppressing the fury in his heart, he rose to his feet. "Lord Lu, Cao suddenly feels unwell. I shall take my leave."
Lu Zhi could easily tell the young man was disgruntled with him, but he paid it no mind. "No matter. Mengde, go as you please."
Cao Cao turned abruptly and strode out of the hall. From afar, the sound of his cold snort drifted back.
Lu Zhi's expression remained unchanged as he focused on his wine, though the sorrow etched between his brows refused to lift.
Dong Zhuo was worldly and seasoned; he made no mention of what had just occurred, nor did he speak of gods and immortals, simply keeping Lu Zhi company in his cups.
Cup after cup, the two drank until a haze of drunkenness took hold, and only then did the banquet disperse.
***
Meanwhile.
At Guangzong, the city gates stood wide open.
Tian Feng, tall and dignified, sat in an ox cart, gazing from a distance at the dense throngs moving in and out of the city. In the farmlands beyond the walls, many farmers were bustling to sow wheat, creating a lively scene.
Tian Feng was secretly astonished. 'Why does this Guangzong look nothing like a city preparing for war? So lax that they do not even close the gates, and even let people cultivate the fields outside?'
Over ten thousand Han troops were garrisoned in nearby Lieren County. By all logic, the Guangzong Yellow Turbans should have had skirmishers blanketing the countryside, everyone on high alert, amidst a tense and murderous atmosphere.
Yet now it resembled a season of universal peace, with smiles upon every face and no sign of dread that an enemy might attack.
Stroking his short beard, Tian Feng instructed, "Go on, enter the city!"
The carter's palms were sweating, and he protested in fear, "Young Master, Guangzong is full of moth-rebels—not a single decent person among them! They kill without batting an eye. Your body is worth a thousand pieces of gold; surely you shouldn't go in?"
Tian Feng smiled. "The Yellow Turban Army has posted notices throughout Julu announcing the establishment of the Court of Administration and the Court of Science to recruit talent from across the realm. Naturally, they will not strike down someone like me who comes intending to join them."
Tian Feng hailed from the declining Tian clan of Julu Commandery. His status was far from noble, yet he had earned renown in his youth through his filial piety toward his parents and his outstanding talent and intellect.
When the Yellow Turban rebellion erupted in Yecheng of Ji Province, Tian Feng had taken precautions at once, leading his kinsmen to shelter in their rural manor and fortifying a stockade for self-defense.
Once Lu Zhi led the Han army to corner Zhang Jiao inside Guangzong, Tian Feng felt greatly reassured and brought many of his trusted kinsmen to Yecheng, a key stronghold of the Han army.
Back then, he had believed Lu Zhi would need no more than a few months to pacify the Ji Province Yellow Turbans, at which point he could return to his ancestral home in Julu. But against all expectations, the undefeated Lu Zhi had actually lost!
And he had lost all twenty thousand of his elite troops!
When news reached them, panic swept through Yecheng. Had Lu Zhi not remained in Lieren County to signal that he was still resisting the Yellow Turbans, the gentry and powerful clans of Yecheng might well have fled toward Luoyang long ago.
Yecheng was not too far from Luoyang anyway, and the imperial capital offered the ultimate safeguard; after all, no matter how formidable the Yellow Turbans were, they could hardly conquer Luoyang, could they?
Amidst his shock, Tian Feng had also keenly taken note of the rumors concerning the Yellow Sky Holy Infant. He deduced that Lu Zhi's defeat was inextricably tied to it. While many assumed the immortal god was a fabrication cooked up by Lu Zhi to escape blame, Tian Feng felt this was the very crux of the campaign.
Driven by curiosity, the ever-bold and meticulous scholar had ridden an ox cart toward Lieren County. There, he heard even more rumors about the Yellow Sky Holy Infant and witnessed firsthand the defeated troops terrified by divine majesty.
This made him all the more curious about the Yellow Turban Army and the god Zhonghuang Taiyi, leaning toward the belief that the deity truly existed. When word arrived that the Guangzong Yellow Turbans had posted notices seeking talent, he tossed and turned through the night. After weighing the matter from every angle, he finally resolved to enter Guangzong under an assumed name to answer the call and investigate the situation.
For a son of a renowned house—even one in decline, outmatched by some of the great local magnates—venturing alone into a rebel camp might seem utterly reckless. But Tian Feng understood that ever since that divine being of unknown truth descended and routed tens of thousands of Han soldiers, the world had changed completely!
Even if the god was a farce, the Yellow Turbans in Ji Province still numbered a staggering hundred thousand men, now bolstered by Han army veterans who had joined their ranks. Given a little time, they would certainly transform into a formidable army in the truest sense.
Meanwhile, the realm had suffered prolonged droughts, leaving the common folk without a livelihood. In such tumultuous times, who would ultimately master the realm remained entirely uncertain.
And if the god was real, the Great Han was doomed beyond saving; he had to secure a way out for his family before it was too late...
Chapter 18