Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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They believed Lie Fan’s sun was ascending. They believed Han was dead weight. They believed siding with Emperor Hongyi meant profit, status, and safety. And now, they were being summoned for the next step in that treacherous path. A representative of the three ministers stepped forward, sweeping his gaze across the room.

The representative waited until the final pair of late arriving merchants slipped inside and shut the door behind them. The room was thick with the faint scent of sandalwood, sweat, and tension, the kind of tension that builds only when powerful men gather to discuss treason wrapped in silk and ceremony.

He placed both hands on the table, leaning slightly forward, letting his sharp gaze sweep the chamber. The shutters blocked out the sound of the busy street below; only the flicker of oil lamps lit their conspiratorial circle.

”Since everyone is here,” he said, voice steady. ”Let us begin discussing the plan to overthrow the Han court.”

Several heads nodded eagerly.

Some hesitated.

But all listened.

The murmurs died quickly. Even those who still feared the gravity of what they were doing instinctively straightened their backs, pretending bravery. Nobles with polished jade ornaments, merchants with soft hands and sharp eyes, scholars with long sleeves and careful expressions, each had thrown his lot in with the rising power of the Hengyuan Dynasty. Now, they stood poised to help uproot an empire.

The representative gave a slight nod and continued, ”I bring to you the plan personally drafted by the Three Masters, Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da, with His Majesty Emperor Hongyi’s full approval.”

A ripple of unease spread across the room. Hengyuan’s Emperor Hongyi was a name that commanded awe and dread in equal measure.

The representative let them simmer for a heartbeat.

”You all must understand,” he said slowly, ”that everything which has unfolded in these past months, the marriage alliance between Hengyuan and Han, the gifts exchanged, the ceremonies, the supposed harmony—”

He paused.

”—was all a ruse.”

The reaction was immediate.

A noble’s jaw dropped. A merchant nearly choked on his own breath. A scholar slapped a hand over his mouth.

Even those with shrewder political instincts blinked in disbelief. They had suspected intrigue, of course, this was politics, and the Han court was crumbling, but to hear it laid bare so bluntly shook them.

”Impossible,” one merchant whispered.

Another man, a minor noble, frowned deeply. ”Then... the princess’s marriage—”

”A staged gesture,” the representative cut in. ”A trap of silk and smiles.”

Several gasped outright.

A few exchanged looks of admiration, Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da were infamous already, but this level of manipulation exceeded even their reputations.

”And why,” an aging scholar asked quietly, ”did the Three Masters resort to such lengths?”

The representative’s eyes glinted.

”To break Emperor Xian.”

A heavy silence fell.

He continued, ”The goal was to rob him of stability, of emotional footing. To make him desperate. To leave him thinking of nothing but his daughter’s fate, allowing his judgment to rot. And it worked. His Majesty Emperor Xian now spends his days pacing the Golden Phoenix Palace, waking in the night, unable to eat, constantly imagining horrors that do not exist.”

The representative gave a cold, humorless smile.

”He is so consumed by fear of losing her that he no longer governs.”

A murmur rolled across the room.

But the representative raised his voice over them.

”And because his mind was corrupted by fear, he did something foolish, something reckless. Something that reveals the depth of his paranoia.”

He let the statement hang a moment, letting their curiosity ferment.

”Emperor Xian secretly dispatched Wang Fu and Wu Yi,” he said, ”to the western foreign lands.”

A stunned exhale swept the chamber.

”He what?” cried one merchant lord. ”Into the tribes beyond our borders?”

”Yes,” the representative replied, tone tightening. ”He sent them to seek alliances with foreign warriors, tribal chieftains, wandering clans, mercenary groups of the frontier.”

”Foreigners?” a scholar muttered, outraged. ”He stooped so low?”

”It is true,” the representative affirmed. ”Wang Fu and Wu Yi have been tasked with gathering an army from beyond the cultural sphere of Han. An army Emperor Xian hopes will break the influence of Master Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da and restore his own autonomy.”

”Idiotic!” another clan head spat. ”Foreign tribes care for plunder, not loyalty!”

”Indeed,” someone else agreed. ”Who is to say these warriors won’t seize the capital and mount his head on the palace gate?”

”Exactly what the Three Masters predicted,” the representative said calmly. ”Emperor Xian, in his desperation, has gambled not only with his throne... but with the very existence of Han.”

And now the room erupted.

They condemned Emperor Xian. They called him blind. They called him naive. They called him unworthy of the Mandate.

And yet, beneath the self righteous fury, not a single man acknowledged their own hypocrisy. If foreign tribes taking over Han was a crime, then what of them conspiring to topple the dynasty from within? What of their meetings in secret rooms like this? What of their desire for power, for influence, for wealth under the brighter star of Hengyuan?

None spoke of that.

They only condemned the emperor.

The representative slammed his palm on the table.

”Enough!”

The voices died instantly.

He waited another moment to ensure absolute silence before continuing, tones sharpened to a blade.

”Your judgments of Emperor Xian are irrelevant. Your fears of the foreign tribes are irrelevant. What matters now is that all of his actions have pushed him into the exact corner the Three Masters intended.”

He gestured toward them, moving slowly as if conducting their thoughts.

”And now... now is the time to strike.”

The clan heads exchanged tense looks. Some swallowed. Others leaned forward instinctively.

”Now,” the representative said, ”I will explain the plan for the fall of Han.”

He paced around the table, hands clasped behind his back. Each footstep on the wooden floor felt like the ticking of a war drum.

”The objective is simple, turn the people of Han against Emperor Xian.”

A noble frowned. ”The commoners? What use are they?”

The representative turned sharply.

”They are the foundation upon which dynasties either stand or fall. A ruler who loses the people cannot survive, not even behind palace walls.”

A merchant raised a tentative hand. ”And... how exactly do we accomplish that?”

The representative smiled, thin and predatory.

”Through unrest.”

He gestured to a scribe at the back, who unrolled a long scroll inked with diagrams, symbols, and written instructions.

”First,” the representative said, ”rumors.”

”Rumors?” a young scholar echoed.

”Yes,” the representative answered. ”Whispers spread faster than any decree. We will seed stories in every marketplace, teahouse, temple, and tavern. Rumors that paint Emperor Xian as a coward obsessed with his daughter’s safety. Rumors that suggest he has abandoned his duties. Rumors implying he intends to flee the capital if danger arises.”

A merchant lord snorted. ”People love gossip.”

”Exactly,” the representative said. ”Simple rumors will shake their trust, but not enough to ignite fury. That is when the second measure begins.”

He raised two fingers.

”Taxes.”

Groans sounded throughout the room.

”We will pressure the court, subtly, through channels still loyal to us, to demand emergency levies. New taxes for grain. New taxes for salt. New taxes on horse carts, river boats, even market stalls. The common folk already struggle. A sudden surge will push them to outrage.”

A scholar frowned. ”The people may grumble, but will they rise?”

The representative nodded slowly.

”With the third measure... yes.”

He lifted his hand, signaling one of the attendants. The man stepped forward and placed a sealed packet of documents on the table.

”Bandits,” the representative said.

Several blinked.

”Bandits?” a noble repeated.

”Yes,” the representative replied with quiet certainty. ”Our soldiers, trained, disciplined, and loyal, will be disguised as brigands. They will strike caravans, merchant convoys, wealthy homes, even villages. They will leave behind false symbols, marks that imitate real bandit clans.”

Gasps broke out.

”Is that not too dangerous?” one merchant asked nervously. ”If real bandits hear of it, they may join the chaos.”

”Precisely,” the representative said. ”And that will deepen the unrest. Under our guidance, Yi Province will fall into a state of security collapse.”

A hush spread through the room as the breadth of the plan became clear.

Rumors. Taxes. Bandits.

A threefold pressure designed to suffocate the people until they screamed for change.

The representative held up a fourth finger.

”And when the people are shaken, when the markets close early out of fear, when caravans avoid the roads, when women do not feel safe walking at dusk, when the people begin to curse Emperor Xian’s name...”

He paused.

”...that is when the Three Masters will act.”

A noble swallowed hard. ”How?”

The representative straightened, letting the moment stretch.

”They will issue petitions, righteous, loud, and public. They will declare that Emperor Xian is unfit to rule. They will demand he abdicate for the sake of the realm. They will present themselves as saviors who can restore order.”

”And if Emperor Xian refuses?” a merchant whispered.

The representative’s eyes narrowed.

”Then abdication will be forced.”

The chamber fell silent again.

Dead silent.

Everyone knew what that meant.

A coup within the palace. Soldiers in imperial halls. A deposed emperor dragged from his throne.

Blood, most likely.

One merchant lord finally managed to speak. ”Will... will the people accept it?”

”They will beg for it,” the representative said coldly. ”After weeks of suffering, after bandits ravage their shops, after taxes wrench the grain from their tables, after rumors paint Emperor Xian as the cause of all misery... the people will not resist his fall. They will praise it.”

A noble stroked his beard. ”You plan to make the emperor the villain in every story.”

”Exactly,” the representative replied. ”And when the dust settles, Emperor Hongyi’s influence will sweep across these lands like a cleansing wind. The transition will appear natural, inevitable, even.”

A silence stretched, a silence filled with heavy breathing, darting eyes, and hearts pounding beneath silk robes.

One scholar finally raised a hand. ”What of Wang Fu and Wu Yi? What of the foreign warriors Emperor Xian seeks?”

The representative’s expression hardened.

”By the time they return, if they return at all, the empire they hoped to save will no longer exist. And even if they come with armies, they will find themselves facing not Emperor Xian’s enemies...”

He leaned forward.

”...but the unified power of Hengyuan.”

The scholar lowered his gaze, absorbing the meaning.

Another noble asked, ”What if the emperor discovers our involvement?”

”He will not,” the representative assured calmly. ”The emperor’s men are incompetent. No one supported him anymore. His own paranoia blinds him. Even now, he suspects every shadow except the correct ones.”

The clan heads exchanged looks, fearful, excited, uncertain, but committed.

They were already too deep.

The representative continued, ”Your role in this is simple but essential. You will each carry these rumors through your own networks. You will pressure local officials to support tax increases. You will ensure that when bandit raids happen, your people shout the emperor’s name in anger.”

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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