In the third year of Jian’an, the smoke over Xiapi finally cleared.
News of Lu Bu’s execution at Bai Men Tower reached Xuchang, shaking both court and country. Riding the momentum of victory, Cao Cao returned triumphantly, his procession magnificent beyond measure.
At the celebratory banquet, Cao Cao generously rewarded ministers who had distinguished themselves. He did not overlook Cao Zhi, raising his cup to all: “This victory over Lu Bu—Cao Zhi’s plan to flood Xiapi and evacuate civilians—cannot go unrecognized! Remarkable, especially at such a young age, with insight beyond his years!” Though no material reward was given, the public praise carried immense weight. Cao Zhi stood, humbly thanking, while countless eyes—some surprised, some scrutinizing, some burning with jealousy like Cao Pi’s—fell upon him.
After the banquet, Cao Cao summoned Cao Zhi alone.
In the study, the fire warmed the room. Cao Cao dismissed attendants, his gaze fixed intently on Cao Zhi.
“Zhi, at Bai Men Tower… who taught you to speak like that?” Cao Cao’s tone was unreadable.
A shiver ran through Cao Zhi; he realized the sharpness he had displayed drew his father’s serious attention. Bowing respectfully, he replied: “Father, no one instructed me. I saw Lu Bu’s arrogance and recklessness, recalled the past with Ding Yuan and Dong Zhuo, and could not remain silent. If my words were improper, I humbly accept your punishment.”
Cao Cao studied him for a long moment, then laughed heartily, a hint of inscrutability in his voice: “‘Could not remain silent’? That is exactly how I behaved when I was young!”
He continued, “In spring, I plan a grand hunt at Xutian. The emperor and all officials will attend. Prepare yourself; do not let the prestige of the Cao family falter.”
After Cao Zhi left, Cao Cao pondered his son’s talent—remarkable literary skill, strategic mind, and at such a young age. A dangerous, ambitious spark seemed to quietly twine around his heart: *Perhaps… talent matters more than birth order?* But he quickly suppressed it. “Impossible!” His eyes hardened. “To overthrow elder for younger is chaos! Zhi has done no wrong, and already commands loyalty… disturbing this foundation would invite civil strife, harming the great enterprise!”
He inhaled deeply, draining his cup of wine. His gaze returned to its deep, unreadable state. “Yet… Zhi’s talent cannot be wasted. Perhaps a little support, to balance him against Zihan (Cao Pi), would be beneficial. Still… I must control the situation carefully. Let not a single misstep turn into disaster.”
For now, Cao Zhi’s life returned to a semblance of peace. During the day, he practiced archery at the training grounds, occasionally discussing politics with strategists like Xun Yu and Guo Jia, but mostly he stayed in the study, poring over classical texts.
“Master, you should rest,” said his maid Yun Xiu, entering with freshly brewed tea. She noticed him deep in thought over maps and papers filled with strange symbols. “You haven’t rested properly since returning. Your health is important.”
Yun Xiu, close enough to observe, felt the change in Cao Zhi. He seemed a different person, no longer playful and carefree. A constant melancholy lingered over his brows, and he often gazed northward. The study’s lamp remained lit late into the night.
Meanwhile, in the northern city of Ye, the spring chill was harsher than in the Central Plains.
Deep in Yuan Xi’s mansion, in an elegantly decorated yet cold bedroom, Zhen Mi sat alone before a bronze mirror. Her beauty remained unmatched, but her bright eyes—once capable of captivating Cao Zhi—were now filled with sorrow and numbness.
Since being married to Yuan Xi, not a single day had brought her joy. Yuan Xi was ambitious yet incompetent, cruel and suspicious. Unable to truly possess Zhen Mi, he tortured her to assert control—verbal abuse, sometimes even whipping when drunk.
His mother, Lady Liu, favored his concubine Wu Nian, regarding Zhen Mi as a thorn in her side. Wu Nian, low-born but cunning, often stirred conflict between the women, withheld allowances, spread rumors, and intentionally destroyed Zhen Mi’s treasured belongings. Small acts of cruelty continued endlessly.
“Madam, it is time for dinner,” Xiao Tao brought a few simple dishes.
Zhen Mi did not glance at them. “Remove them. I am not hungry.”
“Madam, you must eat something… if your health collapses, it will please those people,” the maid choked back tears.
Zhen Mi closed her eyes. Collapsing… perhaps even death would be a relief. Yet in her mind, a name flickered—the talented young man from Ye City: Cao Zhi.
“He…” she whispered silently, suppressing the thought, yet in countless desperate nights, it surfaced as a faint light. “Is he alright?”
As the cold receded, the spring of Jian’an’s fourth year quietly arrived.
News of the hunt at Xutian had spread. In the residence of the Minister of Works (Cao Cao’s mansion), Cao Pi trained rigorously, fondling the treasured bow given by Cao Cao, determined to impress. He even deliberately rode past Cao Zhi at the training grounds, shooting the bullseye, drawing cheers.
“Third Brother, hunting is serious business. The beasts do not care for poetry or strategy. If you lack strength, better stay behind me,” Cao Pi said, leering from his higher horse, feigning concern.
Cao Zhi smiled faintly: “Thank you for your concern. Hunting is about timing and precision, not reckless bravado.” Without waiting for Cao Pi’s displeased expression, he rode off. He knew his strength lagged behind his brother’s in archery and horsemanship, but he had prepared. He had studied the layout of Xutian, researched animal habits, and learned tricks of traps and tracking from veteran hunters.
Spring sunshine brightened the land. At the imperial hunting grounds of Xutian, the area had been cleared and sealed, banners flying.
At dawn, the horn sounded. The emperor Liu Xie rode in his jade carriage, the Empress accompanying him, surrounded by officials. He wore reddish-yellow hunting attire, eyes touched with subtle melancholy. Liu Bei and Guan Yu walked nearby.
Cao Cao, clad in black armor with a scarlet cloak, flanked the emperor, overshadowing him. Cao Zhi, Cao Pi, and other Cao family members and generals followed closely.
Cao Cao dismounted, kneeling: “I pay homage to Your Majesty.”
Liu Xie forced a smile: “Heh, hunting with Minister Cao today, I am most pleased.”
Cao Cao: “Then let us begin.”
Reluctantly, Liu Xie nodded, addressing officials: “Today’s game will be given to those who can catch it. All rely on your skill.”
The officials responded in kind, and the hunt officially began.
At first, the atmosphere was cordial. Generals displayed their skill and claimed several game.
By midday, the hunt reached its climax. The largest prey—a massive stag with formidable antlers—was driven by hunters to the viewing platform in front of the imperial carriage.
All eyes were fixed on the majestic yet panicked stag.
Cao Cao rode to Liu Xie’s carriage, laughing: “Majesty, this stag is strong and auspicious. Please shoot your arrow to open today’s hunt with a flourish!”