Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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”Brother,” he said smoothly, his voice measured and thoughtful, ”there are many reasons. The first is indeed control, but not merely in name. If we kill their king and place one of our own, rebellion will be certain. But if their king himself instructs them to obey, then even though they know it is false authority, they will yield, if only out of habit and fear. That illusion of sovereignty will bind them more tightly than chains.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, before then continuing his words.

”Second, we know not yet the workings of their government, their laws, their customs. To change all in one stroke is to invite chaos. But with their king as our mouthpiece, the transition becomes smooth. He will bear the burden of ordering the changes, while we oversee from the shadows.”

Sun Ce nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his fiery eyes. Zhou Yu’s brilliance never ceased to impress him.

”And lastly,” Zhou Yu said with a faint smile, ”this arrangement lessens the burden upon our Emperor. He need not manage every matter here in Funan. With the king as a puppet, our hands guide, but it will appear as though their own ruler still steers. It is a facade, but a useful one.”

”Hah!” Sun Ce let out a short laugh, slapping Zhou Yu’s shoulder with rough affection. ”Truly, Gongjin, you see farther than any of us. I’d have simply smashed their throne and called it done, but you, you weave nets of silk that bind tighter than iron.”

Zhou Yu smiled wryly, bowing his head slightly.

Ma Chao, who had remained silent, leaned upon the shaft of his spear, his expression contemplative. His fiery spirit usually demanded action, but here, even he recognized the wisdom in Zhou Yu’s reasoning. A puppet king was not weakness. It was strength cloaked in patience.

Before Sun Ce could continue, a sudden crash echoed from the great doors of the palace.

The heavy wood swung open, and a familiar voice rang out, urgent but laced with exasperation.

”Young Lady! Please, do not be rash! Stay back at the camp, this city may not yet be safe!”

It was Zhou Tai, his deep voice booming across the hall.

And then another voice, bright, defiant, and laced with a playful sharpness that could only belong to one person.

”Safe? General Zhou Tai, my eldest brother is here, Brother Gonglu is here, and Brother Mengqi as well! Alongside a contingent of our finest soldiers! If this place is not safe now, then tell me, where is safe in all the world?”

The words echoed boldly through the hall, and Sun Ce froze for a moment before a wry, helpless smile tugged at his lips.

Sun Shangxiang entered dthe throne room, her stride as sure as a soldier’s, though her dress bore the grace of her lineage. Her eyes shone bright, full of fire, her chin lifted proudly as if she had fought the battle herself.

At her side, towering and exasperated, was Zhou Tai, who still looked ready to throw his body between her and danger. A small retinue of guards followed, though they seemed more intent on keeping pace with the determined young woman than shielding her.

Sun Ce shook his head, glancing at Zhou Yu, who was already smiling faintly in amusement.

”She truly cannot be stopped,” Sun Ce muttered.

Ma Chao, standing slightly apart, could not hide the sweet smile that touched his lips as his gaze fell upon Shangxiang. For all his battlefield ferocity, the sight of her stirred a gentler fire in his chest.

Sun Shangxiang approached them boldly, her hands on her hips, her voice carrying in the hall.

”So,” she said, casting her eyes about the conquered throne room, ”is this the palace of Funan? Hmph. It doesn’t seem so grand as the stories say. And yet, here it falls under the hands of my brothers and our dynasty.”

Her words, though lightly mocking, carried a current of pride, pride in her family, in their power, and in the victories that carried their names across seas and borders.

”Little Sister,” Sun Ce said called her, his tone a mix of admonishment and pride. ”Must you always charge into the lion’s den the moment the fighting stops?”

Sun Shangxiang grinned, skipping the last few steps to join their circle. ”And miss all the fun? Never! Besides, someone has to make sure you three haven’t gotten into trouble.”

Zhou Yu’s smile deepened, though his eyes gleamed with faint amusement. ”Young Lady, your spirit has not dimmed.”

Ma Chao, for his part, gazed at her with open admiration, warmth softening his fierce features. He did not speak, words were unnecessary. His expression alone spoke volumes.

The atmosphere of the hall shifted, the gravity of conquest momentarily brightened by the lively presence of Sun Shangxiang. The soldiers eased slightly, though their discipline remained intact.

Sun Ce sighed and shook his head, though affection shone plainly in his eyes. ”Very well, Xiangxiang. Since you are here, stay close to us. The city is ours, but caution must still rule. The last thing I want is for Funanese desperation to place you in danger.”

She only laughed softly, brushing off his words as she stepped closer to him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. ”Brother, I am safer here at your side than anywhere else in the world.”

At that, even Sun Ce could not suppress a small chuckle.

At this time, the massive doors of the palace hall groaned open once more. The hinges squealed in protest as torchlight spilled into the chamber, casting long shadows across the marble floor. All eyes turned toward the entrance, where a solemn procession began to enter.

At its head was Ma Dai, tall and stern, his armor streaked faintly with dust from the road. His bow was still strung across his back, the very weapon that had felled the rebellious captain only moments ago. Beside him walked the scholar, his robes billowing as he carried himself with calm dignity, ready to bridge words between two worlds.

And behind them, flanked, surrounded, hemmed in on all sides by Hengyuan and Sun Clan soldiers, came King Kaundinya III of Funan, his queen, and their children.

The king’s face was pale, almost waxen under the flickering light. His steps faltered now and then, as though the weight of the night’s events threatened to buckle his knees with every step.

Beside him, the queen clutched her daughters close, the younger girl hiding her face in her mother’s silk sleeves while the elder walked with stiff defiance, though her eyes glimmered with barely contained tears. The three sons followed in a solemn line, trying to mimic their father’s composure but failing; their shoulders trembled, and their gazes darted like trapped birds.

The soldiers kept a careful distance yet close enough that escape was impossible, blades glinted faintly in the torchlight, silent reminders of the power now pressing down upon the royal family.

As the procession entered the hall, Sun Shangxiang’s playful spark vanished. She released her hand from her brother’s arm and straightened, her face hardening into the composure of a noblewoman who understood the weight of this moment. She stood tall, her chin lifted, as befitted the sister of Sun Ce.

Sun Ce, Ma Chao, and Zhou Yu mirrored her gravity. Their expressions were masks of discipline, neither gloating in triumph nor softening with pity. They were conquerors, yet conquerors who carried the name of Lie Fan, and so they bore themselves with a stoic calm that reflected both strength and restraint.

The procession halted several paces before them. Ma Dai stepped forward, his voice ringing out across the chamber as he saluted his comrades.

”Marquis Dingdong. General of the Tiger Stripes Cavalry,” he said with a crisp bow. ”I bring before you the King of Funan, Kaundinya III, and his royal family. We were fortunate to capture them as they attempted to flee through the back gate. None escaped.”

His words rippled through the hall like a stone cast into still water.

Sun Ce and Ma Chao exchanged glances, both nodding in approval. Sun Ce’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, his voice warm with praise as he turned his gaze toward Zhou Yu.

”Well done, Gongjin,” Sun Ce said, his tone warm with praise. ”It was your foresight to send Ma Dai with his cavalry to the back gate. Without that, the king and his family might have slipped away into the jungle. You’ve spared us no end of trouble.”

Zhou Yu bowed his head humbly, his expression composed though his eyes gleamed faintly with pride. ”I was fortunate, my lord. It was only a precaution, for we could not know whether secret passages or hidden gates existed in this palace. That it bore fruit is Heaven’s favor.”

”True enough,” Sun Ce replied, his grin widening. ”Even so, your caution serves us well this night.”

Then, straightening, he stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of all in the hall. He fixed his gaze upon the trembling figure of the Funanese monarch.

”I am Sun Ce,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying across the chamber. ”Marquis Dingdong of Changsha. And beside me—” He extended his arm in a sweeping gesture toward Ma Chao. ”—stands General Ma Chao, General of the Tiger Stripes Cavalry and Warden of the Western Marches. To us, you now speak.”

The scholar’s voice rose in fluid translation, carrying the weight of each title across the gulf of language.

Kaundinya III flinched as the words reached him, his breath catching in his throat. He bowed stiffly, his knees threatening to buckle but his pride straining to keep him upright. His voice quavered as he answered, his Funanese words spilling forth in broken cadence.

”I... I am Kaundinya III,” he said, his eyes darting between Sun Ce and Ma Chao, then flickering toward Zhou Yu with uncertainty. ””King of Funan. This is my queen,” he gestured weakly to the woman at his side, ”and behind me are my three sons and my two daughters. We... we are honored to stand before the Marquis Dingdong and the General Warden.”

The scholar’s voice carried the translation faithfully, though he softened the trembling tone with which the king had spoken.

Sun Ce inclined his head in acknowledgment, his voice calm, even gracious. ”And I, too, am honored to meet you, King Kaundinya III, and your household. The time has come, however, that we speak of what must follow. Your throne remains, your bloodline endures, but your kingdom must now bend knee to the Hengyuan Dynasty. You will become its protectorate, bound to pay tribute yearly.”

The scholar repeated his words. The king’s shoulders sagged, the last remnants of resistance crumbling. His lips trembled, and when he spoke, his voice carried the hollow weariness of a man who had nothing left to bargain with.

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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