The Winter Descends
The snows came early to Zhaoling.
White frost coated the unfinished stone roads. The wind howled through the mountain passes, bringing silence where once there had been hammers and drills. Construction slowed. Supply wagons stalled. For the first time since their founding, the people of Zhaoling faced not an enemy with blades—but the merciless hand of nature.
Lü Bu stood at the gates each morning, eyes fixed on the horizon. He could feel it—something shifting, moving beneath the surface. The capital hadn't struck yet. But they would.
"We're too visible now," he said to Wei Yun. "The moment we showed we could survive, we became a threat."
Wei Yun smirked. "We're not just surviving. We're winning."
"That's the problem," Lü Bu replied. "Winners rarely last long when they forget who's watching."
Inside Zhaoling, the winter bit deep.
Food stores were strained.
Livestock froze in pens.
A fever broke out in one of the southern villages, threatening to spread.
The Council of Nine, recently formed, met in the newly built war hall—its rafters unfinished, but its purpose solid. Han Jie, always practical, spoke first.
"We need medicine. Grain. Tools. Our northern fields are dead for the season."
Lin Zhao, the young strategist with a sharp mind, spread a map across the table.
"We could trade with the southern provinces. House Liang still owes us tribute from last season. If we press them, they'll deliver."
But it was the old village elder, Sima Yan, who raised a shaking hand.
"What about the offer, General?"
The room fell quiet.
Everyone knew what he meant.
The Offer from House Liang
Two weeks earlier, a diplomat from House Liang had arrived. Tall, robed in velvet, eyes like ice. He spoke respectfully—but every word was wrapped in implication.
"Lord Lü Bu," he had said, bowing slightly. "You have proven yourself. Zhaoling stands because of your will. House Liang is impressed… and wishes to offer its support."
Support meant resources. Trade. Even formal protection under their banner.
But it also meant control. Authority. Obedience.
"Swear loyalty to House Liang," the envoy had said, "and Zhaoling will flourish. Oppose us… and winter won't be your greatest enemy."
Lü Bu hadn't answered then.
Now, with food running short and people beginning to whisper, the question returned.
Wei Yun slammed his fist on the table.
"We fought bandits, hunger, even the empire's mercenaries—and now you want to hand our future to them?"
Han Jie shook his head.
"If we don't act, children will starve. This isn't surrender. It's survival."
The hall turned to Lü Bu.
He said nothing for a long time.
Then, at last:
"No."
Fire in the Snow
That night, flames lit the edges of the city.
But they weren't from lanterns.
One of the outer warehouses—where their final grain stores had been hidden—was on fire. Chaos erupted. Soldiers ran. Buckets were passed hand to hand. But the snow fell faster than the flames could be quenched.
By morning, half the grain was gone.
And nailed to the warehouse door was a sigil.
House Liang.
A message. A punishment.
"So this is their game," Lin Zhao said bitterly.
"They want us desperate," Han Jie growled. "Bend or break."
But Lü Bu, his face cold as the frost, simply turned to the ruined storehouse.
"Then we show them we are neither."
🛡 System Notification
[Crisis Triggered: Zhaoling – Winter Trial]
▸ Status: Famine Risk: Moderate
▸ Morale: Holding
▸ External Threat: House Liang
▸ New Quest: Survive Without Submission
Objective: Secure resources before the second snowstorm hits. Do not accept subjugation. Maintain Zhaoling's independence.
Reward: City Loyalty +200, Unique Building Blueprint Unlocked
The Plan
The following day, Lü Bu gathered his captains and gave his orders.
"We raid the southern roads," he said. "Not to steal—but to reclaim. House Liang has been bleeding the north dry for years. We take what they owe."
Wei Yun grinned. "Finally. Something warm to do."
But it wasn't just about grain.
Lü Bu had a second plan—something far more dangerous.
"We send envoys to the border tribes. Not for war. For trade. They know our name now. They fear our blades. That gives us leverage."
Sima Yan, the elder, was stunned.
"You want to ally with barbarians?"
"I want to survive," Lü Bu said. "And I won't kneel to do it."
Back in the Capital
Word of the fire reached Luoyang within days.
Xun Yue, Prime Minister of the realm, listened quietly as the report was read.
"He refused House Liang. Sent riders to the nomads. Took back a trade convoy by force. But the people didn't rebel. They cheered."
The ministers argued. Some called him dangerous. Others, admirable.
But Xun Yue simply folded his hands.
"He is not a rebel," the Prime Minister said.
"Then what is he?" asked one noble.
"A seed," Xun Yue whispered. "A seed that could grow into something we can no longer control."