Mythical Version of Three Kingdom

When Liu Bei heard Yuan Shao’s words, he was initially taken aback. Then, as he looked Yuan Shao up and down, a glimmer of enthusiasm appeared in his eyes—it seemed there was much they could discuss.

Just as Liu Bei was about to inquire further, Chen Xi interrupted with an untimely stretch, followed by a loud, unapologetic yawn.

“Marquis of Ying, does my earlier speech bore you so much?” Yuan Shao cast a displeased glance at Chen Xi, who looked as though he had just woken up.

“Not really,” Chen Xi replied indifferently. “I just don’t understand what you mean by ‘the will of the people.’ Do you mean the commoners, or the noble clans like ours?” Chen Xi’s tone was casual, paying no heed to Yuan Shao’s authority. Yuan Shao’s rhetoric might have sounded convincing, but it was fundamentally at odds with Liu Bei’s ideals.

There was no need to ask, really. Yuan Shao’s aim had always been to consolidate the power of the noble families. While he might offer some protection to the common folk, the foundation of his position had never been rooted in the welfare of the people at large.

The phrase ”the will of the people is the sword of the emperor” was not inherently wrong. However, the interpretation of ”the people” was problematic. In this era, many noble families did not even consider the commoners as true people.

This mindset was why atrocities such as massacres and mass executions occurred without restraint—because commoners weren’t regarded as fully human. It wasn’t due to a sense of superiority but a deeply ingrained belief that the common folk simply didn’t count.

Yuan Shu had declared himself the shepherd of the people, seeing them as mere subjects of his teachings and governance. Yuan Shao, while not entirely dismissive of the commoners, had never truly based his stance on their well-being.

Furthermore, in the current social structure, the noble clans held more than eighty percent of the intellectual elite. Although these elites were not necessarily of the caliber of geniuses like Guo Jia, they dominated the middle ranks of society.

Even figures like Guo Jia, though prodigious, owed much of their rise to connections with noble families. Additionally, more than seventy percent of government officials were from such families, and it was exceedingly rare for anyone from a humble background to rise above the fifth rank. Ordinary commoners? It was inconceivable that they could ever reach such heights in the bureaucracy.Moreover, the noble families controlled over ninety percent of the era’s wealth. With the common people possessing virtually nothing, how could they possibly challenge the dominance of the nobility? In most cases, the noble families only needed to use the slightest manipulation to keep the commoners under their control.

This was why Chen Xi had to proceed slowly and cautiously. He was essentially taking on the most powerful class of the time. Even though he didn’t aim to eliminate them entirely, the pushback from this class was enough to give him constant headaches.

If not for Chen Xi’s various strategies of appeasement and redirection—and the fact that the common people had been living in such dire conditions—he would have avoided this thankless task altogether.

“Before the Han Dynasty, wasn’t it always the nobles who governed the lands? Since the Later Han, hasn’t it been the noble families educating and guiding the people? Naturally, ‘the will of the people’ refers to the noble families and their governance over the common folk,” Yuan Shao said with a matter-of-fact expression.

“Well said,” Chen Xi nodded, and as Liu Bei glanced over at him, Chen Xi shrugged, clearly indicating that he had nothing more to add.

“That’s your stance?” Liu Bei asked Yuan Shao, his face darkening. This response was completely different from the one he had expected.

“Did you really think I was referring to the common rabble?” Yuan Shao scoffed. His birth and upbringing had long predetermined that he could never view the world from the perspective of the common people.

Liu Bei shot Yuan Shao a glance, and a faint sneer appeared on his face. “Yuan Benchu, you will never understand.”

Liu Bei’s words were cryptic, but Chen Xi understood them. He sighed—Yuan Shao’s adoption at a young age had deprived him of the chance to experience the hardships of the common folk. Perhaps if Yuan Shao had been allowed to live among them longer, he might have chosen a different path.

Liu Bei cast a final glance at Yuan Shao before standing up. He raised his cup toward the men of Hebei. “It’s often said that Hebei is home to many heroes, and indeed, that’s true. But after today, I doubt we will ever meet so casually again. Consider this cup my tribute to you. And should any of you fall into my hands in the future, I will spare your lives.”

“Lord Xuande, I’m afraid your words are a bit premature,” Xu You retorted, rising after receiving a glance from Yuan Shao. “The soldiers of Hebei are unmatched in courage, and the region’s strategists are as numerous as the stars. The day may come when you find yourself not standing above but beneath.”

“What a boast! I haven’t met many of you, but those I have, haven’t fared well. And as for those I haven’t encountered, they must be rather insignificant,” Chen Xi retorted boldly, unleashing a broadside of insults toward the Hebei officials. Not standing tall, Xu You? Does that mean you’ll end up as prisoners? How arrogant!

“Marquis Chen, your words are quite the jest,” Tian Feng responded calmly. Chen Xi’s youthful appearance, seated among this group of seasoned officials, was already a provocative sight. His blatant disregard for decorum only deepened the sense of unease among the Hebei ministers.

“I don’t mind being a joke. After all, I’ve been winning all along,” Chen Xi replied nonchalantly. He was there to stir trouble and had no fear of the consequences.

Moreover, Chen Xi had already seen the potential for Yuan Shao’s downfall, which was the basis for his brazen provocations. The only noteworthy warriors on the opposing side were Yan Liang, Wen Chou, Zhang He, and the yellow-faced Qu Yi. Hebei’s martial strength was lacking.

As for the strategists, Chen Xi wasn’t concerned. His immense spiritual energy was enough to nullify any mental attacks they might attempt. This was his true advantage.

Chen Xi’s words left the Hebei ministers momentarily stunned. Though his remarks were crude, they were not without merit. After all, Chen Xi’s track record of victories was undeniable.

“Hmm, so you have nothing more to say,” Chen Xi sneered as he scanned the Hebei side. Apart from Dong Zhao, who sat quietly with an indifferent expression, the rest of them showed varying degrees of frustration and embarrassment.

Sensing the growing tension, Lady Zhang deftly stepped in to smooth things over, providing the Hebei side with a moment of reprieve. Shortly after, music and dance began to fill the hall, but it wasn’t long before Qu Yi, fed up with the soft performances, couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“These delicate performances lack the vigor of the battlefield. Let me give you a display of swordsmanship!” Qu Yi declared as he unsheathed his sword and began a martial display, moving closer to Chen Xi with each step. However, it was clear that Chen Xi didn’t take Qu Yi seriously. After all, Zhao Yun was right beside him—there was no need to worry.

“Wen He, be ready. We may need to act. I’ll take care of Yuan Shao, and you look for the best target on their side,” Chen Xi’s voice reached Jia Xu through Zhao Yun’s precise transmission of sound technique.

“No problem,” Jia Xu replied, his hand subtly brushing against the multi-shot crossbow hidden in his sleeve. His position ensured no one would search him. His assessment aligned with Chen Xi’s—they had a real chance here today. While killing Yuan Shao outright might not be feasible, they certainly had a shot at it!

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