Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!

Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12

___________________________

When Lie Fan entered, he was standing before the great central map of China, gazing intently at it. The territories of the Hengyuan Dynasty were carved in bold strokes, now spanning half the land. To the west and north, the domains of Cao Wei stretched from Luoyang all the way to the frontier at Wuwei. To the south and west, the fractured remnant of the Han held Yi Province.

As he traced the map with his finger, the doors opened. Xun You, Sima Yi, Huangfu Song, and Zhang Liao entered, their steps firm, their heads bowed in respect.

”Your Majesty,” they intoned in unison greeting Lie Fan respectfully.

Lie Fan turned, a smile breaking the sternness of his face. ”Be at ease the four of you. Come, stand with me.”

Hearing that, the four of them joined him before the map, the flickering light of lanterns casting long shadows across the painted mountains and rivers.

”It is time,” Lie Fan said, his tone steady yet carrying the gravity of fate. ”Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da, with Zheng Ren and Yan Yan, have borne the weight of resisting Cao Cao at Zitong in Yi Province. They have fought valiantly, but they are stretched thin. It is time we relieve their burden by striking elsewhere. We must direct our Central and Western Command Armies to pin Cao Cao at Zitong, alongside Zheng Ren and Yan Yan. The pressure must not be theirs alone to bear.”

As he spoke, he reached for three carved chess like pieces. The first two bore the sigils of the Central and Western Command Armies of the Hengyuan Dynasty. The third carried the mark of the Northern Command. With deliberate precision, Lie Fan placed the Central and Western pieces upon Hulao Gate, then moved the Northern piece toward Shangdang.

”By this,” he continued, ”we shall strike directly into the heart of Wei territory. We will consolidate the northern provinces, driving Cao Cao from them once and for all. From there, we shall seize Luoyang and Hongnong, forcing him to shift his capital westward to Chang’an.”

His hand lingered over the board, tracing invisible paths of conquest. ”Once we hold Luoyang, the Mandate itself will tremble in our favor, as Luoyang was the former capital of Eastern Han and Cao Wei current capital. The people will see not only our reform in law, but our strength in arms.”

Then a sharp, predatory smile touched his lips. ”The civil reforms have planted the seeds for our empire’s future strength. Now, it is time for the military to reap the harvest. Let us remind Cao Cao why he fears the sound of our drums. The season for politics is over. The season of the sword has begun.”

The room fell into silence as the weight of his words settled. Each man present understood, this was not simply a campaign plan. It was a turning point in the struggle for all of China.

The generals and advisors exchanged glances. Zhang Liao’s eyes burned with martial fire, Huangfu Song’s face was stern and approving, while Xun You and Sima Yi, being the military strategist they are, nodded slowly, already envisioning the logistics and counter moves.

”Your Majesty,” Huangfu Song said, bowing his head, ”the plan is bold, but it carries the scent of inevitability. The rest of Cao Cao’s domain cannot resist both the north’s fall and the loss of Luoyang.”

Lie Fan allowed himself a small smile. ”Then let us prepare.”

Xun You, Sima Yi, Huangfu Song, and Zhang Liao cupped their hands and bowed, ready to receive Lie Fan’s order. They expected to be dismissed so they could each set to work in their respective spheres of responsibility, but before they could even voice their request to depart, Lie Fan raised his hand slightly, halting them. His voice was calm but carried an authority that brooked no refusal.

”There is no need for you to leave just yet,” he said, turning his gaze back to the vast map. His tone softened slightly, more like a mentor sharing a vision than a ruler issuing command. ”This hall shall serve you well. I would like you to discuss your strategy here, in the Art of War Hall itself. Treat this place as your forum, your war table. I have gathered the wisdom of centuries within these walls for a reason, and it is not meant to gather dust.”

The four exchanged surprised looks. Even battle-hardened generals and shrewd strategists were taken aback. To be invited to use the Emperor’s private sanctuary, his chamber of thought and military vision, was no small matter.

Xun You, ever the cautious voice among them, stepped forward with both respect and hesitation. ”Your Majesty, we would not dare intrude upon this sacred space. This hall is where you fashion your vision for the empire. For us to make noise within it... it feels as though we disturb what ought not be disturbed.”

Lie Fan smiled faintly, shaking his head. ”No disturbance at all. I would rather you breathe life into this room with your plans than let it echo empty with silence. Besides—” He gestured toward the towering shelves of scrolls and manuscripts, their spines marked with the names of ancient masters of war. ”—here lies the most complete collection of military stratagems and philosophies in the land. From Sun Wu’s original commentaries to the rare copies of Wu Qi, from frontier manuals to barbarian tactics collected at great cost, even first editions of works seized from Cao Cao’s own scholars. Why would I hoard them to myself when their value is multiplied in your hands?”

Hearing those words, the four men lowered their heads, humbled. None of them could refuse such generosity, nor could they argue against the Emperor’s reasoning. Xun You and Sima Yi bowed deeply while Huangfu Song and Zhang Liao dropped to one knee, their voices united.

”Your Majesty honors us beyond measure. We shall make use of this gift, and we thank you deeply.”

Lie Fan waved off the formality with an almost brotherly gesture, though his authority still rang through it. ”Then proceed with a peace of mind. Speak freely, argue fiercely, weigh every possibility. I wish to hear the voice of Hengyuan’s finest minds as they craft the strike that will change the course of this war.”

With that, he withdrew. His footsteps echoed across the polished stone floor, the long sleeves of his robe brushing against the air like banners. His Yellow Ghost bodyguards, silent as death, fell into formation behind him. When the doors of the Art of War Hall closed, the four men remained staring for a long moment at the immense map.

It was Zhang Liao who broke the silence, his voice carrying the gravel of a man eager for battle. ”To be granted leave to plot in here... it is as if the heavens themselves smile on this campaign.”

Huangfu Song gave a small grunt of agreement, folding his arms across his chest. ”Then let us not waste the Emperor’s grace. We have much to decide. Eight hundred thousand men will march at our command, the Central, Western, and Northern Armies combined. A campaign of this scale will shake the very bones of the land.”

Xun You and Sima Yi nodded, already sharpening their thoughts. Scrolls were unfurled, maps pulled closer, ink and brushes set at the ready. Their discussion began immediately, fierce and fast-paced, like blades clashing on the training ground.

The first matter was communication. With armies spread across vast distances, ensuring that orders flowed without delay or distortion was paramount. They debated the use of relay riders, signal fires, and even experimenting with new coded banners to direct troop movement across valleys and ridges.

Logistics came next, grain from Xu Province, iron from Bingzhou, horses bred in the northern grasslands. Supply lines had to be secured, fortified against raids, lest Cao Cao strike at their lifeblood rather than their blades.

”This campaign is no raid, no feint,” Sima Yi reminded them, his sharp eyes scanning the map. ”Hulao Gate before was a thrust to distract. Now we strike to uproot. We must expect Cao Cao to resist with every sinew of his power.”

”Which is why we must not only strike swiftly but hold firmly,” Zhang Liao growled, stabbing his finger toward Shangdang. ”Here we cut his northern grip. Then we hammer down toward Luoyang. Once Hongnong falls, Tong Gate is exposed to us.”

The plan grew steadily under their hands, shaped like a sword being forged. Sparks flew in words, but soon a rough blade was hammered into form. After hours of debate, quills scratching across parchment, a draft plan of attack emerged. It was not perfect,none of them felt entirely satisfied, but it was a weapon to be refined further.

At last, Huangfu Song and Zhang Liao excused themselves. Their duty was to rouse the armies, to breathe life into the steel and flesh of the Central, Western, and Northern Commands. Their orders would set the vast war machine into motion, so that when the signal came, eight hundred thousand men could march as one.

Xun You and Sima Yi, however, lingered. Both wore the expression of men gnawed by something unseen.

”There is a piece missing,” Xun You admitted at last, his voice quiet. ”A stroke of subtlety, perhaps. The plan has strength, but strength alone will not topple Cao Cao. We need wisdom sharpened further.”

Sima Yi nodded grimly. ”Then let us seek it. Master Jia Xu, Chen Gong, Xu Shu, and Pang Tong, each a master in their own field. If we are blind to something, one of them will see.”

And so, while the drums of preparation already began to sound in the barracks, the two strategists departed to consult their peers.

Meanwhile, in the Emperor’s private chambers, Lie Fan sat at a lacquered table, brush in hand. The room was quiet save for the steady rasp of ink upon silk paper. His expression was serious, his hand steady as he wrote.

The letter was addressed to Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da, those stalwart guardians of Zitong. His words carried both command and reassurance, that reinforcements were being gathered, that the weight upon their shoulders would soon be lifted. Yet he wrote also as a comrade, acknowledging their suffering, urging them to endure a little longer.

When the final character was drawn, he set the brush aside and let the ink dry. He folded the letter carefully, sealing it with wax, and then whistled softly.

From the window, a shadow swooped down, a raven, sleek and black as midnight, its eyes sharp as onyx. This was his personal messenger, trained to fly tirelessly across mountains and rivers. With deft hands, Lie Fan tied the scroll to the bird’s leg. He leaned close, whispering as though the raven could understand.

______________________________

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