Chapter Nineteen: Sudden Upheaval

In the depths of night, several horsemen raced along the official road. Normally, such a night was ill-suited for galloping horses, even if it was midsummer, the sky clear and bright, with the moon shining as luminously as water, the visibility exceptionally high.

Yet night was still night; good visibility did not mean the horses could run recklessly. Horses, after all, were naturally nearsighted. Although their eyes, positioned on either side of their faces, granted them an astonishing field of view—almost as if they each bore two rearview mirrors that allowed them to see behind—their only blind spots were directly in front of their muzzles and directly behind their rumps.

During the day, a horse could run while glancing down to see the road. But at night, with vision hindered and nearsightedness blurring the world, what appeared to a man as a silver-white path illuminated by the moon was, to a horse, nothing but an indistinct darkness.

But thanks to Cao Ren setting fire to the villages, the hills around Zengyang and Niuqiu Mountain, as well as the remaining ridges of Zeng Mountain, were ablaze. The forests burned fiercely, the flames leaping skyward, visible from dozens of miles away.

The once dim road was lit bright by the inferno, and Cao Ren and his knights sped their horses northward in retreat. Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and the others pursued them relentlessly, the gap between the two parties shrinking with every moment.

Beneath the moonlight, the enemy’s backs were now less than twenty paces ahead, close enough that one could see Cao Ren occasionally glance back, his fierce face tinged with panic. Shen Chen’s anger had not abated in the slightest; rather, it burned all the fiercer, his eyes now bloodshot.

This man, immortalized in history as a general of Cao Wei, was in the eyes of many a valiant warrior, a master of defense. Countless people called him a hero, the pillar of half of Cao Wei’s empire; without him, Xiangfan would surely have fallen.

But in this moment, Shen Chen felt no admiration for him whatsoever.

For besides being one of Cao Wei’s finest generals, he was also a butcher of the utmost cruelty. Cao Ren had played his part in Cao Cao’s massacres of Xuzhou and Wancheng.

Shen Chen cared nothing for the world’s praise and adulation of Cao Ren. Such were merely differences in perspective. Those who worshipped him had never been Xuzhou’s people, never the county folk of the Five Counties of Xiapi who had perished at the hands of Cao Cao. How could they know how frigid the Si River ran? How could they understand whether their blood could dye the whole river red, or that their corpses could clog the entire course?

But now, facing the brutality of Cao’s army himself, Shen Chen’s stance was firmly opposed to the butchers.

How could one stand before a foe bent on their destruction and feel admiration without hatred? Where then would the countless restless souls of Xuzhou and Wancheng find justice?

At this moment, Shen Chen felt not a shred of respect for Cao Ren. He wanted only to tear him apart, to sever his head and hang it high, to grind his bones to dust, and thus honor the fallen villagers of Zengyang.

“Cao Ren! Prepare to die!”

Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, both heavily built, weighed their horses down such that they could not keep pace. Only Liu Bei, lighter and a superior rider, drew ever closer, less than a pace away, as he charged with his sword poised to strike.

In that dire instant, one of Cao Ren’s bodyguards, galloping at his right, had no time to intercept; gritting his teeth, he flung himself bodily forward, colliding with Liu Bei’s sword and forcing the blow aside.

“What a loyal death-defier!”

Even as Liu Bei praised such devotion, his hands moved swiftly; changing his sword from a thrust to a slash, he struck the man from the air, felling him in a single stroke.

This was no simple feat. It required not only speed and skill but, above all, formidable wrist strength. The bodyguard weighed a hundred pounds or more, and with the momentum of his leap, an ordinary iron sword would have snapped. Even if it did not, a lesser man’s strength would not suffice, and the enemy’s body would crash into the horse, disrupting the pursuit.

But Liu Bei’s swordsmanship was extraordinary, his twin swords weapons of legend, and his wrist strength could even match the likes of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei. He struck the man down midair without letting him collide with his horse—a truly fearsome display of prowess.

And this was only Liu Bei, who was but a second-rate warrior, far from the ranks of the elite or super-elite. Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhao Yun were legendary heroes of the highest order.

From this, one could see how nightmarish such warriors as Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhao Yun were to common soldiers. Unless surrounded by hundreds in formation, a few dozen ordinary men were no match for them—it was like chopping vegetables.

Even so, while Liu Bei deftly dealt with the leaping assailant, his horse was forced to slow, and he lost his balance, unable to control the animal for a moment. Cao Ren seized the chance to widen the distance and fled farther ahead.

The chase continued for another four or five miles. Cao Ren, having already ridden dozens of miles, had a horse that was tiring fast; no matter how he urged it on, it could barely keep pace.

“Am I truly to die here? Where is Li Qian? I arranged for him to meet me—why has he not arrived?”

With the pursuers closing in and his bodyguards dying one by one to protect him, their numbers dwindling, Cao Ren’s fear grew only deeper.

Yet as the saying goes, “When it rains, it pours.” Just as things reached their most desperate, Cao Ren’s warhorse stumbled, its hoof caught in a rut in the darkness, and both horse and rider crashed to the ground.

His remaining bodyguards, only five now, stopped and doubled back, surrounding him in a protective ring. Though they outnumbered the pursuers, their fighting prowess could not compare. The blade of death hovered above their heads.

“Cao Ren, your time has come.”

Liu Bei, seeing this, laughed heartily and reined in his horse. Now that the enemy was cornered, he dared not charge in alone and risk death at their hands. He waited for his brothers and Zilong to catch up.

They were not far behind, only a few dozen paces away. Last was Guan Yu, towering over two meters and weighing more than two hundred pounds—an ordinary horse could barely carry him at speed.

At that critical moment, an arrow suddenly tore through the night, whistling eerily toward Liu Bei at the front.

Clang!

Liu Bei’s sharp eyesight and archery skills served him well; he deflected the arrow with his twin swords.

A shout rang out from the distance: “General Cao, hold on! Li Qian is here!”

“Kill!”

“Save the general!”

“Hurry! Hurry!”

A tidal wave of shouts rose up—the relief force under Li Qian had arrived.

Cao Ren’s hope flared anew. He struggled to his feet and bellowed, “Liu Bei, dream on if you think you can kill me!”

Liu Bei anxiously turned his horse to look. In the earlier chase, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei’s weight had slowed their horses, and only Zhao Yun had kept up.

“Lord!”

Zhao Yun drew near, and from afar saw a sea of torches sweeping down the hills.

Cao Ren was no fool. He had come here with only two hundred men to kill Shen Chen, so as not to alert the enemy. But to the north of Huangmen Pavilion, he had stationed Li Qian with a thousand men as backup, fearing a clash with Tao Qian’s forces.

Yet Tao Qian’s troops had not been disturbed; instead, it was Liu Bei and the others who were drawn in, along with the unexpected resistance from Huangmen Pavilion’s own armed clansmen.

Fortunately, his preparations had saved his life at the critical moment.

“Uncle Zhao, kill him quickly!”

Shen Chen had arrived with Zhao Yun and pleaded urgently for him to strike.

Zhao Yun spurred his horse forward. Four of Cao Ren’s bodyguards threw themselves in his path. A hail of arrows from afar forced Liu Bei, who had meant to help, to fall back.

In the distance, Li Qian and a dozen cavalrymen raced ahead, far outpacing the infantry behind.

Soon, the two sides clashed. Liu Bei and Zhao Yun fought fiercely, slaying several foes, but Cao Ren managed to mount a bodyguard’s horse and escape another ten paces, shouting for his men to come up.

At that moment, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei finally arrived, and with the addition of Liu Bei’s dozen mounted followers, the battle raged. Li Qian was forced to withdraw. Just as they were about to give chase, the main force of the enemy arrived.

“Damn it!”

Shen Chen’s eyes burned red with fury. He had not expected his efforts to fall short, nor that Cao Ren would have arranged such a rescue.

Cao Ren laughed wildly, then caught sight of the white-armored, silver-speared figure with a child seated before him. Staring intently, he exclaimed in shock, “Shen Chen, it’s you—you’re alive!”

The two sides now faced each other from seven or eight paces apart. Shen Chen gazed at him coldly and replied, “Are you so eager for my death?”

“I didn’t at first. My elder brother wanted to meet you.”

Cao Ren no longer bothered to lie; after all, there was little point, given how far things had gone.

Shen Chen considered this and nodded. “Cao Cao is indeed a cunning man. It seems that when he learned the people of Xiangben had fled, he realized it was my doing and wanted to take me to Yanzhou. But when Lü Bu attacked and feared I might fall into Tao Qian’s hands, he sent you to kill me as a precaution, didn’t he?”

Cao Ren burst out laughing. “Exactly! My brother was right—you are a menace, clever child. If not for that scoundrel Lü Bu, I would have brought you to him already.”

“No matter. If I kill you today, I’ll send Cao Cao on his way next. In the end, we’ll meet again in the afterlife.”

A murderous gleam appeared in Shen Chen’s eyes as he snarled, “And when that day comes, I believe the hundreds of thousands massacred in Xuzhou will be eager to greet you in the underworld, to speak with you about the pain and grief you brought them!”

“Kill me?”

Cao Ren glanced around, seeing his ambush falling into place, and sneered, “Look to yourself first. Today, neither you nor Liu Bei will escape.”

“Is that so?”

Shen Chen’s gaze flicked to the right. Zhao Yun quietly reached for his waist, where, besides his silver spear, he carried a short sword. Using the darkness as cover, he hoped to hurl it and kill Cao Ren.

But before he could act, a surge of noise rose from behind.

“Kill them!”

“Avenge our slain villagers!”

“Let none escape!”

The clansmen of Huangmen Pavilion, having slaughtered the scattered Cao soldiers with Liu Bei’s followers, had now arrived to aid them.