Jia Xu nodded in agreement. "I will instruct our agents to proceed with caution, my lord. The Xianbei delegation will be closely monitored, and any information they provide will be carefully scrutinized. We will also ensure that our trade agreements are structured in a way that maximizes our gains while minimizing the exposure of our dealings."
As the two men continued to discuss their strategy, the Xianbei delegation, now inside the Great Wall, was being escorted to a nearby trading post. Toghrul and his companions were acutely aware of the Han soldiers' watchful eyes, but they maintained their composure, focusing on their mission.
They knew that their success or failure could determine the fate of their people, and Toghrul ensured that none of his men did anything that could antagonize the Han soldiers.
The trading post was a bustling hub of activity, with merchants from across the region bartering goods and negotiating deals. The Xianbei delegation was led to a designated area where they could present their trade offerings, fine horses, furs, and other goods prized by the Han.
The Han merchants, though initially wary, were quick to recognize the value of the Xianbei's wares that they offered. Negotiations began, with both sides cautiously feeling out the other's intentions.
Meanwhile, the Oriole agents embedded within the trading post observed the proceedings with keen interest. They noted the Xianbei's requests, for wood, iron tools, and other materials essential for construction and warfare. Unknown to the Oriole agents, these requests confirmed Jia Xu's suspicions, that the Xianbei were indeed preparing for war.
As the day wore on, the Xianbei delegation secured several trade agreements, though the terms were heavily skewed in favor of the Han merchants. Toghrul knew that they were being taken advantage of, but he had no choice. The survival of his people depended on these resources.
After securing what meager advantages they could from the trade negotiations, Toghrul felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. The journey south had been long, and the tension of dealing with the Han merchants, who had, without fail, exploited their desperation, had drained him. His men, though disciplined, were weary. The thought of sleeping under the open sky within Han territory was unthinkable.
The Great Wall was not just a barrier of stone, it was a symbol of Han dominance, and to set up their own tents here would be seen as an act of defiance, or worse, an incursion.
So when the Han soldier escorting them informed him that there was an inn available, Toghrul's initial relief was quickly tempered by the condition: payment in Han currency, not barter. The Xianbei dealt in goods, horses, furs, and crafted weapons, not coins minted by their southern neighbors.
Swallowing his pride, Toghrul nodded and instructed his men to gather some of their finer possessions, a few well crafted daggers, a bundle of rare fox pelts, anything that could be traded quickly for the necessary coin.
The inn was modest, its wooden beams worn smooth by years of travelers, the scent of stale rice wine and smoke clinging to the walls. But it was shelter. As his men settled in, Toghrul remained by the window, watching the lanterns flicker in the streets below.
The Han merchants laughed and drank, their voices carrying the ease of men who had won the day. He clenched his jaw. Every concession made here was a wound to his people's future. But wounds could heal. Extinction could not.
Meanwhile, back in Xiapi, Jia Xu had already set his plans into motion. The moment his discussion with Lie Fan concluded, he had retreated to his office, the dim glow of candlelight casting long shadows across the parchment before him. His brush moved swiftly, ink bleeding into the fibers as he penned orders for the Oriole agents stationed along the border.
Monitor the Xianbei closely.
Ensure the merchants extract not just goods, but debts, political favors, and owed obligations.
Select agents fluent in the Xianbei tongue. Infiltrate. Follow them home.
Each stroke of his brush was deliberate, each word a calculated maneuver in the unseen war of spies and whispers. When he was finished, he rolled the scroll tightly, binding it with a cord before stepping out into the courtyard.
A messenger bird awaited, its dark eyes sharp, wings twitching with restless energy. Jia Xu fed it a morsel of dried meat, a small reward for the duty it was about to perform.
As the bird took flight, vanishing into the twilight, he exhaled slowly. The north was a powder keg. The Xianbei were preparing for war. And if his suspicions were correct, the Xiongnu would not be far behind.
As the situation in the north became complicated, to the west at Xiapi, at Luoyang, The evening air was thick with the scent of blooming peonies and the distant murmur of the city winding down.
The palace halls, though grand, felt almost intimate in the dim glow of lantern light as Cao Cao and his eldest son, Cao Ang, sat across from one another. Scrolls of military treatises, historical records, and maps of the realm lay scattered between them, evidence of hours spent in deep discussion.
Cao Cao watched his son with a quiet pride. The boy, no, the young man, aged 23 this year had grown sharper with each passing year. His mind wasn't as naturally inclined toward the labyrinthine twists of political scheming as Cao Cao's own, but he compensated with something far more valuable, an instinct for leadership, just like what Cao Cao had.
People listened to him. Soldiers respected him. Even the scholars, who often sneered at bluntness, found themselves swayed by Cao Ang's earnestness. It reminded Cao Cao of his own youth, though he could admit, with a father's reluctant amusement, that his son might surpass him in that regard.
"A ruler doesn't need to be the most cunning," Cao Cao mused. "He needs to know how to wield those who are to be wielded and not."
Their lesson had drifted from the logistics of grain distribution to the delicate art of balancing factional interests within the court when Cao Ang suddenly stilled.
His brow furrowed, not in confusion, but in the way it did when he was weighing whether to voice a thought. Cao Cao recognized the look, it was the same hesitation he'd once had when questioning his own mentors and figures who taught him.
"Good. He thinks before he speaks." Cao Cao mused as he nodded his head.
"Father," Cao Ang began, then paused, as if reconsidering his words. "If I may, I have a question to ask of you."
Cao Cao leaned back, folding his sleeves. "Of course, Zixiu. What is it?"
Cao Ang exhaled, steadying himself. The flicker of the lanterns cast shadows across his face, making him look older than his years. "I apologize beforehand, but… I'm curious. What do you think of Lie Fan? Not the assessment you give to the generals and masters. I've heard the stories, that during the Anti Dong Zhuo Alliance, the two of you were almost friends. You've said yourselves that your minds worked similarly. That's why you consider him your true rival, not even Yuan Shao who had been a thrown to you since you were young."
For a heartbeat, Cao Cao didn't react. Then, slowly, he stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the sprawling city below. The question wasn't unexpected, Cao Ang had always been perceptive, but it tugged at something deeper, a memory of simpler times when the lines between ally and enemy weren't so stark, and there was only one true enemy at the time.
He sighed. "What do I think of Lie Fan?" The name lingered in the air like smoke. "He is a once in an era talent. A man who could replace Lu Bu's in terms of single combat prowess and earn the title of the strongest warrior under heaven."
"His ingenuity both on the battlefield and on playing the chess game is second to none. His charisma draws men to him like moths to flame, even those who should know better." A wry smile touched his lips. "People call me the 'Hero of Chaos.' I call him the 'Ascendant Star.' Because from the moment I met him on that battlefield those years ago, he has done nothing but rise. Higher, faster, and brighter than anyone else. Including me."
He turned back to see Cao Ang's expression, eyes wide, lips parted slightly. The boy had expected praise, perhaps, but not this. Not such naked admiration from a man who rarely spoke of others without calculation.
Cao Cao continued, quieter now. "As for being friends… yes. You could say that. Even now, there is respect between us. In another life, in a time of peace, we might have been sworn brothers." His voice hardened, just slightly. "But this is not that time. We both seek the same thing, to unite this bleeding land under one banner. And so, he is my rival. Just as I am his."
Silence settled between them. Somewhere in the palace, a servant's distant laughter echoed. Cao Ang swallowed. "Then… do you regret it, Father?"
"Regret what?"
"That it came to this. That you couldn't stand together to unite this land."
Cao Cao's smile was thin, almost regretful. "Regret is a luxury, Zixiu. One we cannot afford. The path to unity is paved with choices, some cruel, some necessary, some unpredictable. Lie Fan understands this as well as I do. That is why, when the time comes, neither of us will hesitate to end each other when the time comes."
He returned to his seat, the moment of vulnerability passing like a shadow. "But remember this, a rival is not the same as an enemy. You can admire a man and still clash with him. You can respect him and still do everything in your power to defeat him. That is the burden of leadership."
Cao Ang nodded slowly, absorbing the lesson. "Then… how should I prepare? If I am to face men like him in the future when I succeed you."
"By becoming better," Cao Cao said simply. "Not just in strength or strategy, but in vision. Lie Fan's greatest weapon isn't his spear or his mind, it's his ability to make men believe in him. To make them want to follow. That is what you must cultivate. Because no matter how great and powerful a single man was, he couldn't defeat a collective of men whose talents weren't that worse compared to his."
He reached across the table, tapping a scroll, a treatise on governance. "Study. Learn. Listen. And when the time comes, lead. Not just with your mind, but with your heart. That is how you honor our name."
Cao Ang bowed his head. "I will not disappoint you, Father."
Cao Cao's gaze softened. "I know."
Outside, the moon climbed higher, casting its pale light over the fractured land of China. Somewhere to the east, Lie Fan plotted his next move. To the north, the Xiongnu sharpened their blades and the Xianbei strengthened their defenses. And in Luoyang, a father and son shared a moment of admiration and teaching, to face for the storms to come in the future.
______________________________
Name: Lie Fan
Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains
Age: 33 (200 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 1325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 951 (+20)
VIT: 613 (+20)
AGI: 598 (+10)
INT: 617
CHR: 96
WIS: 519
WILL: 407
ATR Points: 0