Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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The officer nodded and ran. Ma Chao lingered a moment more beside his father, then drew the blanket gently over Ma Teng’s face. ”Rest now, father,” he whispered. ”I’ll carry this burden.” Outside the tent, the city of Jincheng stirred beneath the weight of war, and a new lord rose to meet it.

After preparation was finished, beneath the sky choked with smoke and stars, the Ma Clan retainers gathered to send their leader to the afterlife.

Ma Teng’s body was laid upon a pyre, clad in his battle armor, his sword clasped in his hands. Around him, his warriors stood in silence, their faces grim, their postures stiff with grief and rage.

Ma Chao stood at the forefront, a torch in his hand. His face was unreadable in the flickering light.

”My father,” he said, his voice carrying over the hushed crowd, ”was a lion. He fought for this land, for our people, until his last breath. And he was struck down not in honorable battle, but by treachery.”

A ripple of anger passed through the gathered soldiers.

”But we will not dishonor his memory with reckless vengeance,” Ma Chao continued. ”We will be cunning. We will be patient. And when the time comes...”

He touched the torch to the pyre.

Flames roared to life, engulfing Ma Teng’s body in a blaze that lit the night.

”...we will make them regret the day they crossed the Ma Clan with treachery!”

As the fire burned, the warriors raised their weapons, their voices rising in a thunderous cry— ”MA TENG! MA TENG! MA TENG!”

Unbeknownst to Ma Chao and the Ma Clan Army, while the flames of Ma Teng’s funeral pyre still burned in the hearts of his warriors, word of his death had already begun to ripple far beyond Jincheng.

In the fortified command post several hundred li to the southeast, Guo Jia and Jia Kui sat within a dimly lit war tent, surrounded by maps, scrolls, and the steady rustle of silk robes against the cold wooden floor.

The messenger, a thin, anxious young man from their spy network, bowed deeply before handing the sealed scroll to Guo Jia. The strategist’s fingers were deft and quick as he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. As his eyes traced the contents, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though it was far from joyous.

”Ma Teng has passed away,” Guo Jia murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.

Jia Kui, standing near the window, turned sharply. ”What did you say, Master Guo Jia?”

Guo Jia handed him the scroll. ”Poisoned. From a wound he received during the mutiny that caused their retreat from Tianshui. Seems the old lion couldn’t escape fate this time.”

Jia Kui read the message, his brow furrowing. After a moment, he sighed. ”A shame. He was a worthy adversary. A rare one at that.”

”Indeed,” Guo Jia agreed, leaning back in his chair. ”But this changes everything. Ma Teng’s death is not just the end of a man, but the collapse of the Ma Clan’s spine. Ma Chao may be brave, fierce, and gifted in battle, but he lacks his father’s vision and cunningness.”

Jia Kui nodded. ”Then we must seize the moment. While they’re still grieving.”

”Exactly,” Guo Jia said. He tapped his fingers against the table, eyes glinting with calculation. ”We pressure them very hard. Send word to the surrounding garrisons. Cut off Jincheng’s supplies. Make the people restless. Either Ma Chao flees to Wuwei, abandoning this stronghold, or he fights and dies here. Either way, we win and suppress their rebellion.”

Jia Kui nodded. ”I’ll see to it personally.”

Even as their strategy began to unfold like a snare around Jincheng, the news continued its silent spread across the vast lands of the Han.

Three days later, in the city of Xiapi, within the marbled halls of the Lie estate, another message arrived, this one borne by a cloaked agent of the Oriole Network.

Lie Fan sat in his study, a cup of warm tea in hand, sunlight glinting off the polished wood of his desk. When the agent entered and bowed, Lie Fan gestured calmly.

”Speak.”

”My lord,” the agent said, bowing deeper, ”news from Jincheng. Ma Teng is dead.”

There was a pause as the words hung in the air. Lie Fan didn’t move. The cup in his hand hovered just a moment longer before he gently set it down.

”The cause of his death?”

”Poison. From a poisoned wound that he received during the recent mutiny that forced him to retreat from Tianshui.”

Lie Fan’s gaze flickered with intrigue. Slowly, the corners of his lips curled upward not in glee, but with the satisfaction of a puzzle beginning to solve itself.

”Then soon,” he said, half to himself, ”Ma Chao and whatever remains of the Ma Clan will come to me.”

The agent remained silent, waiting.

”Let the Oriole Network remain vigilant,” Lie Fan instructed. ”If Ma Chao shows signs of retreat from Jincheng, we offer him help from the shadows to ensure his survival. And when he decided to run to me to seek asylum, we made him ours, body and soul.”

”Yes, my lord.”

The agent bowed once more and departed, leaving Lie Fan alone with his thoughts.

He stood slowly, walking to the tall window that overlooked his gardens. Spring had come early, and with it, the delicate scent of plum blossoms. He closed his eyes for a moment.

”The lion is dead,” he murmured. ”Long live the lion’s heir.”

But not all the tides of fortune gathered in the north and east. Far to the south, beneath the warmer skies of Jiangdong, in the Sun Clan capital, another theater of intrigue was about to unfold.

Inside the spacious, lacquered hall of the main estate, Sun Ce sat at the head of a long table. Beside him, his father, Sun Jian, the famed Tiger of Jiangdong, rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the clan’s key retainers reported on harvest yields, road expansions, and shipbuilding efforts.

The conversation paused as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the chamber. A soldier entered, armor clinking softly, and knelt.

”My lords, an envoy has arrived. Master Sun Guan comes from Lord Lie Fan of Xu Province bearing news.”

At once, the air in the room changed.

Murmurs broke out among the retainers. Sun Jian raised an eyebrow. Sun Ce, younger but no less sharp, waved his hand.

”Let him enter.”

Moments later, Sun Guan stepped into the hall with steady, respectful grace. Clad in traveling robes, he bowed deeply before speaking.

”Lord Sun Ce, Lord Sun Jian, forgive my intrusion. I bring urgent tidings from my lord, I apologize for the sudden nature of my arrival.”

Sun Ce smiled faintly. ”There is no need for apologies, Master Sun Guan. We welcome the envoy send by our lord and friend. What brings you all this way?”

Sun Guan straightened and withdrew a sealed scroll from his sleeve. ”I bear a letter from Lord Lie Fan. It contains urgent matters.”

He handed the scroll to a page, who brought it forward with both hands. Sun Ce broke the seal and unrolled it, his eyes scanning the elegant script. As he read, his face shifted, first surprise, then contemplation, then something unreadable.

Sun Jian noticed. ”What is it, my son?”

Sun Ce looked up, meeting his father’s eyes. ”It seems... the time has come. Lord Lie Fan intends to reveal to the realm that we are his vassals.”

A beat of silence followed. Then a wave of quiet murmurs spread again among the gathered men.

”And he asks,” Sun Ce continued, his voice steady, ”that when the time comes, the Sun Clan publicly reaffirm our allegiance.”

Sun Jian’s expression darkened with caution. ”He asks this now?”

Sun Guan stepped forward. ”Not merely asks, my lords. He declares. He believes the time is ripe, The Ma Clan rebellion is occupying Cao Cao attention Liu Zhang would always hide inside Yi Province, and the Han Court is in disarray by Cao Cao controlling the Han Emperoe. When the announcement is made, he requests that you reaffirm your fealty, to confirm its truth and legitimize your place before the eyes of the realm.”

Sun Ce looked to his father, his voice calm but edged with steel. ”We knew this day would come. Better we step forward with pride than be accused of hiding.”

Sun Jian crossed his arms, thinking. Then he nodded slowly. ”Then we prepare. Gather the ministers. Ready the messengers. If we are to show our allegiance, let us do so with strength.”

Sun Ce turned back to Sun Guan. ”Tell Lord Lie Fan that the Sun Clan will stand when summoned. And when the land looks our way, they will see not weakness, but the rising sun.”

”I will carry your words with honor,” Sun Guan replied.

On the other hand, at Huiji inside Sheng Xian’s Governor Palace, the scent of ink and old wood hung faintly in the air as servants scurried through the corridors with nervous haste.

Sheng Xian himself had just been informed by a steward that an envoy from Xu Province had arrived and was waiting in the main hall. The name that accompanied the message, Lie Fan, caused a flicker of fear and loyalty flicker in the governor’s eyes.

He adjusted his robes and walked with practiced dignity through the colonnaded hallway, flanked by tall windows spilling sunlight upon the stone floor.

Upon entering the main hall, he saw a man dressed in travel worn but well maintained robes standing patiently at the center. The envoy bowed deeply the moment Sheng Xian appeared.

”Governor Sheng Xian,” the envoy said, his tone respectful yet urgent. ”Forgive this unannounced visit. I come bearing a letter from Lord Lie Fan. The matter is of great importance.”

Sheng Xian returned the bow with a warm nod. ”There is no need for apologies, honored envoy. Lord Lie Fan is a man of integrity and my lord, any message he sends is welcomed with open arms.”

The envoy stepped forward and offered the sealed scroll with both hands. Sheng Xian took it carefully, broke the wax seal, and unrolled the parchment. His eyes moved methodically across the page, but as he read, his expression grew more intense, brows knitting slightly. When he reached the end, he remained silent for a time, the paper trembling slightly in his grasp.

Finally, he looked up. ”So, the time has come.”

He glanced toward the envoy. ”Tell lord Lie Fan that Sheng Xian of Huiji honors his allegiance. When the time comes and the realm is called to witness, I shall reaffirm my loyalty to him with pride. Let the world know we stand with him.”

The envoy bowed deeply again. ”I will relay your words, Governor Sheng Xian. My lord will be grateful.” As the envoy was led to quarters to rest, Sheng Xian stood in the hall for a long moment, gazing out the window toward the south. His mind stirred with memory and anticipation about what’s to come. The world was changing, and he had chosen his place in it.

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 34 (201 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