Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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When the decree reached the provinces, relief mingled with fear. Many of those caught in the act wept with gratitude for their emperor’s mercy, and vowed never to test it again. Others gritted their teeth, their pride wounded but their loyalty grudgingly renewed. In his town, Mayor Deng received the imperial edict, his face turning ashen as the fines were announced and the stern warning read aloud in front of his former subordinates and his replacement.

The public humiliation was a whip across his soul, more painful than any financial penalty. He had been given a path to redemption, but it was a path that required him to swallow his pride and acknowledge the justice of the system that had demoted him. It was a masterstroke of psychological governance, offering mercy while making the consequences of further defiance terrifyingly clear.

Lie Fan’s message was clear, his justice was firm, but not cruel. It was the justice of a ruler who sought to reform, not destroy.

Back in Xiapi, the great work continued. The Nine Rank System, like a great sieve, was sifting the entire bureaucracy, separating the chaff of inherited privilege from the grain of true talent.

It was a quiet war, fought with ink and edicts rather than swords and siege engines, but its outcome would determine the long term strength and stability of the Hengyuan Dynasty far more than any single battle.

And so slowly under the steady hands of Cheng Qun and Jia Xu with the other Ministers support and the officials from Ministry of Personnel and Law, the Nine Rank System began to take shape like a new spine for the Hengyuan administration.

Reports arrived from across the Hengyuan’s Dynasty domain, like signs of productivity rising in local offices where competent men had finally been given the authority they deserved. Petition processing grew faster, tax collections grew cleaner, and for the first time in years, corruption cases began to decline.

In the Imperial Academy, scholars under the six state teachers support, praised the reform in verses and essays, calling it ”the dawn of a new order.” The people of Xiapi began to whisper that their emperor ruled with both sword and law, a man who conquered with armies but governed with wisdom.

Lie Fan, however, did not let the praise blind him. In council meetings, he would often remind his ministers that reform was a journey, not an event.

”One law cannot cleanse a nation,” he told Cheng Qun and Jia Xu one evening as they walked through the palace gardens. ”It must live, adapt, and be tested. If the Nine Rank System becomes rigid, it will rot like the bones of the old Han bureaucracy. That is why we must always review, always refine, and always follow the changes of time.”

Cheng Qun bowed deeply. ”Your Majesty understands governance as few ever have. The strength of an empire lies not only in its armies, but in the fairness of its judgment.”

Jia Xu, walking with his hands folded behind his back, gave a quiet chuckle. ”And in the Emperor’s ability to see through the hearts of men. The fear of justice drives the corrupt, the hope of recognition drives the virtuous. Between the two, stability is born.”

Lie Fan smiled faintly. ”Then let both fear and hope serve me well.”

As all of that happened in Xiapi and the entirety of the Hengyuan Dynasty domain, at Shangdang, the siege on the city had raged for seven relentless days, the skies above forever thick with smoke and the ground below soaked in the blood of countless men.

The roar of siege engines, the cries of the wounded, and the clash of steel had become an unending rhythm, a dreadful drumbeat marking the collapse of Cao Wei’s northern defenses.

On that morning, beneath a hazy veil of smoke drifting from the battered walls, the Marshall of the Northern Command, Huang Zhong, stood on an observation ridge with his command staff, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s despite his age.

The constant thunder of the siege rolled beneath them, a symphony of war that shook the very stones of Shangdang. Around him, flags whipped in the dry wind, banners bearing the sigil of the Hengyuan Dragon, glinting under the dim sun.

To his side stood Chen Deng, the ever calm architect of the Northern Command’s strategy. His armor bore no dents, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion. A stack of reports lay beside him, each detailing the relentless grind of the siege, the casualties, the rations, and the fatigue of both sides.

The two pair of Marshall and Strategist watched as another wave of Hengyuan soldiers surged toward the city’s towering battlements. Siege ladders, reinforced with steel braces, thudded against the walls while Hwachas unleashed storms of fiery bolts that streaked through the air like comets.

The Wei defenders, once resolute, now struggled to hold their lines. They had fought valiantly, perhaps too valiantly for their own survival. The sheer precision and intensity of the Hengyuan war machine were unlike anything they had faced before.

Huang Zhong’s lips thinned as he watched another volley of Hwacha arrows arc through the sky and rain upon the battlements. ”Another hour of this, and they’ll be too weary to even raise their shields,” he muttered.

Chen Deng, ever analytical, didn’t look up from his map. ”True, general. But weary men can fight with the desperation of cornered beasts. Shangdang will not fall easily, not while Cao Cao’s veterans man its walls.”

He looked up then, the faint glint of respect in his gaze. ”Their discipline reminds me of the old Han border garrisons. Each man holds his post as if his death might buy a day more for his comrades.”

Huang Zhong let out a deep sigh. ”Perhaps. But no wall can stand forever, not against such storms.”

He turned toward Chen Deng fully. ”Tell me, Master Chen Deng, how long do you estimate before Shangdang falls? His Majesty expected swift results, a decisive blow to the northern flank. Yet the walls still hold after seven days.”

Chen Deng hesitated, calculating mentally before responding. ”If fortune remains constant... another few days, perhaps two at most. Unless an unforeseen event accelerates the fall.”

He glanced toward the horizon, where the smoke curled higher. ”But we must remember, General, these are no rabble soldiers. They are Wei’s heart, men forged in Cao Cao’s relentless campaigns. His Majesty surely accounted for this resistance. If we break them, the rest of Wei’s northern line will collapse like rotten wood.”

Huang Zhong nodded grimly, folding his hands behind his back. ”I know. I just—” he stopped, his expression softening, ”—I wish for fewer graves to dig once the banners are raised.”

Chen Deng gave a faint, weary smile. ”Mercy has its place, General. But mercy must follow victory.”

Below them, Dian Wei’s furious roars carried over the din of battle. The colossal warrior led the vanguard himself, his twin halberds sweeping wide arcs through the enemy line.

Every swing crushed armor, split shields, and sent defenders tumbling from the walls. Around him, his fellow commanders, He Qi, Chen Dao, Song Xian, Wei Xu, Hao Meng, Hou Cheng, Liao Hua, and the others fought like wolves unleashed.

Their strength was awe inspiring, yet Dian Wei was unmatched. His mere presence ignited courage in the men behind him. ”Forward! Forward, warriors of Hengyuan!” he thundered, his voice cutting through the chaos. ”Break them, and Shangdang is ours!”

Each time he gained a foothold atop the wall, the defenders rallied desperately to drive him back. Even a hundred men couldn’t match his strength, yet he retreated when his troops began to falter, never reckless with their lives. He fought not for glory, but for victory.

Behind the main assault, siege engines groaned as crews pushed Climbing Tigers, immense mechanical ladders braced with counterweights, into position. Unlike ordinary ladders, these constructs could not be easily toppled, they dug their steel claws deep into the wall’s face, anchoring fast. The defenders cursed as Hengyuan soldiers swarmed up in relentless waves.

The Hwachas, meanwhile, were merciless. Each launch filled the air with screaming shafts that hammered into stone, wood, and flesh alike. Archers atop the wall were forced to duck and hide behind merlons, unable to return fire effectively.

It was war on a scale of precision and terror that Shangdang had never seen.

Hours passed. The smoke thickened, and the stench of burnt oil and blood spread through the air. The wind carried screams and the whistling hiss of arrows like a grim song.

Then, as the afternoon sun dipped low, a sudden flare of orange light erupted inside the city.

Both commanders froze.

At first, Huang Zhong thought it was a reflection, perhaps the glint of the Hwacha volleys. But the light grew, swelling, flickering wildly. Then came the unmistakable plume of smoke rising from within the walls.

Chen Deng’s eyes widened. ”That’s... inside Shangdang!”

A moment later, a soldier came running up the hill, panting hard, his face streaked with soot. ”Marshall! Strategist! A report from the front! Fire has broken out inside the city, near the inner residential quarter!”

”What?” Huang Zhong’s voice cut like a blade. ”How?”

The soldier dropped to one knee. ”The Hwacha bolts, sir! Some passed over the walls, struck the thatched roofs behind the battlements. The houses caught fire. It’s spreading fast!”

For a heartbeat, there was silence, then realization struck.

”This is it,” Huang Zhong growled, gripping the railing before him. ”Their focus will split,soldiers to the walls, others to fight the flames. This is the opening we’ve waited for!”

He turned sharply to Chen Deng. ”Sound the drums! Order the entire front to press the attack. Every division!”

Chen Deng, who thought of it from a much more rational point of view, nodded once, decisively. ”Agreed. The defenders will be thrown into disarray. Let us strike while their hearts are divided.”

Messengers sprinted down from the command ridge, flags raised, horns blaring. Moments later, the Hengyuan siege line came alive with renewed fury.

The drums of war thundered again, louder than before, a rolling tide of sound that seemed to shake the heavens. The Hwachas unleashed another storm, covering the assault, while the Climbing Tigers surged forward once more.

Dian Wei, hearing the renewed signals, grinned savagely through the blood spattered across his armor. ”The old fox has found his gap!” he roared, rallying his men. ”Push, you warrios of Hengyuan! The gates of Shangdang are trembling!”

He swung his halberds with such force that they cleaved through two Wei soldiers in a single motion. Around him, Song Xian and Wei Xu coordinated the infantries around them into a wedge formation, even within the narrow approach, dismounting where needed to push siege ladders forward under covering fire.

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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