In the imperial palace of Emperor Xian of Han, a eunuch’s cautious voice called from outside the hall: “Your Majesty, it is time for a meal.”
Liu Xie seemed not to hear. What face did he have to eat? What will to continue living? He couldn’t even protect the woman by his side. What meaning was left in being emperor? He was nothing more than a puppet in Cao Cao’s hands, ready to be crushed at any moment.
He sighed deeply to the heavens. How unfilial he was, allowing the legacy of his ancestors to collapse so utterly. What of the past emperors of Han? What would they think? What could he do?
Silent tears fell onto the cold golden tiles. Any trace of anger was swallowed by utter despair. The so-called dignity of the emperor, the ambition to restore the Han, seemed ridiculous and impossibly distant. He felt completely drained, left only as an empty shell in the dragon robe.
Behind the screen, Empress Fu observed quietly. She did not approach to comfort him, nor shed a tear, only a near-icy calm, and deep, inescapable… disappointment.
It was not that she pitied Consort Dong, nor that she did not hate Cao Cao. But as the empress, she saw more clearly. Liu Xie’s frenzy before the incident, and his collapse afterward, exposed his fundamental weakness and lack of resolve. Fu remembered the young Cao Zhi, who had once rescued her during the hunting expedition. Though technically an enemy, he was exceptionally talented, famous for his literary skills even in youth. In comparison, Liu Xie was a mediocre man beneath the emperor’s title, only capable of impotent rage.
“Cannot even protect the woman by his side…” This thought stabbed deeply into Empress Fu’s heart. She had once held hope for this young emperor, but reality repeatedly shattered it. Liu Xie raged and cried, yet he could not bear the weight of the empire; for his own survival, he bowed submissively to Cao Cao, failing to safeguard his loved one.
Empress Fu slowly turned and left the hall, leaving Liu Xie’s despairing figure behind. Her steps remained dignified, her back straight, yet beneath the composure lay a chilling resolve—a determination to survive by her own means. If the emperor was unreliable, who else could she rely on?
Meanwhile, in Ye City, Jizhou, at General Yuan Shao’s residence:
Yuan Shao sat proudly in command, adorned in splendid armor, his expression filled with satisfaction. He had just fully absorbed Gongsun Zan’s forces, consolidating control over the four provinces of Hebei—Ji, Qing, You, and Bing. With hundreds of thousands of troops and abundant supplies, he considered himself unstoppable.
“My lords!” Yuan Shao’s voice boomed with authority. “Gongsun Zan is destroyed, Hebei is secure! Our army boasts tens of thousands in full armor, provisions overflowing! Look across the realm—who can rival us? Cao Cao? Hmph. That eunuch, holding the emperor, occupies only Yan and Yu, with a small force. He merely enjoys temporary power!”
He paused, sweeping the hall with his gaze, then his tone deepened: “At the hunting ground, Cao Cao overstepped, insulting the emperor. Heaven and men are enraged! This is a blessed opportunity! I have decided: we shall march south, eradicate Cao Cao in one strike, restore the Han, and establish our legacy!”
Guo Tu, an astute advisor, immediately stepped forward, face eager, voice impassioned: “My lord, you are wise and mighty! Cao Cao commands limited men and weak troops, relying only on his family and a few loyal officers. How can he contend with Hebei’s vast forces? Your army now acts according to heaven’s mandate! Once you strike, victory is certain!”
Among the generals, Yan Liang and Wen Chou led the charge, voices like thunder: “I volunteer as vanguard! I will bring Cao Cao’s head to you, my lord!” Wen Chou roared: “The men in Cao’s camp are mere vermin; I will crush them like poultry!” Other generals, including Chunyu Qiong, clamored to fight, convinced of certain victory.
The hall roared with a tide of war fever. Yuan Shao stroked his beard, smiling, relishing the unity and zeal of his troops.
Yet, not all were swept up in this madness.
Advisor Ju Shou furrowed his brow. When the clamor subsided, he inhaled deeply and spoke firmly: “My lord! You must not act recklessly or underestimate the enemy!”
Silence fell. All eyes turned to the respected and measured Ju Shou.
Yuan Shao’s smile faded. “Oh? And what counsel do you offer?”
Ju Shou bowed, voice grave yet sincere: “My lord, though our forces defeated Gongsun Zan, years of campaigning have exhausted the soldiers. The treasury is strained. We must first rest the army, pacify the people, and secure Hebei! That is reason one.”
“Cao Cao, though limited in troops and territory, has risen above all rivals. He is clever, strict in law, and holds the emperor to command the lords—his legitimacy is strong. He must not be underestimated. That is reason two.”
“Should our army advance south, the Yellow River and other natural barriers will impede supply lines, leaving us vulnerable. Cao Cao can fight defensively with short, secure lines. If we attack fortified positions, fatigued troops may falter. That is reason three.”
Ju Shou concluded earnestly: “The wisest strategy is to consolidate Hebei, reward agriculture, train the troops, and meanwhile send elite cavalry to harass Cao Cao’s territories. When his people suffer and unrest spreads internally, only then should we march full force south. An immediate all-out campaign is far from ideal!”
Advisor Tian Feng immediately rose in support, more blunt and fierce: “My lord! Ju Shou speaks wisely! Cao Cao is not Gongsun Zan, Xuchang is not Yijing! Ignoring sound advice risks disaster!”
Yuan Shao’s expression darkened. Immersed in dreams of sweeping the world, he had been doused with two buckets of cold water, and he was displeased.
Advisors Feng Ji Su and Guo Tu, at odds with Ju Shou and Tian Feng, sneered: “Why dampen our morale? Your army boasts tens of thousands—how could Cao Cao resist? ‘Fatigue’ and ‘obstacles’ are mere excuses for cowardice! If we follow your advice, we allow Cao Cao to sit idle and grow stronger!”
Guo Tu added sarcastically: “The emperor suffers oppression, yet only your lord can rise! To delay is to dishearten loyal men. Do you think your lord is inferior to Cao Cao?”
The words were venomous, attacking both logic and loyalty.
Yuan Shao, irritated by Ju Shou and Tian Feng’s contrary counsel, was provoked further by Guo Tu and Feng Ji Su. He slammed the table: “Enough! Tian Feng, Ju Shou! You dare undermine morale and curse the army? Are you saying my sword is dull?!”
He stood abruptly, pointing at them: “With war imminent, these ill omens are unacceptable! Guards! Detain Tian Feng and deal with him later! Ju Shou… strip him of command; he will accompany the army as advisor and observe my decisions.”
The guards dragged the frustrated Tian Feng away. Ju Shou, pale, sighed deeply, silent.
The hall fell into a dead silence. No one dared speak again.
Yuan Shao, still angered but resolute, surveyed his generals and declared: “It is decided! No more objections! Yan Liang and Wen Chou will lead the vanguard. From this day, march to Liyang! All other generals, prepare troops and supplies, accompany me south. We march to Guandu!”
“Understood!” The pro-war faction—Guo Tu, Feng Ji Su, Yan Liang, Wen Chou—responded in unison, voices shaking the hall.
The war machine of Hebei roared to life. Banners blotted the sky, weapons gleamed, and the massive army surged southward like a rolling flood. A decisive battle that would determine the fate of northern China—the Battle of Guandu—was about to begin.
Cao Cao was about to face the most severe challenge of his life, and Cao Zhi would encounter real trials and choices amidst this epic campaign.