During the Jian'an era, wars raged across the Central Plains. Yuan Shao led his elite Hebei troops to confront the Fontaine forces in the vicinity of Chenyu Valley.
The valley was a strategic and treacherous terrain—deep, densely wooded, flanked by sword-like steep mountains, easily defensible but hard to attack. Counting on his superior military strength and familiarity with the land, Yuan Shao planned to lay an ambush here and crush the main Fontaine army in one fell swoop. Little did he know, he would fall victim to their counter-espionage ploy.
That night, the moon shone like frost upon the winding paths in the valley. Following his original plan, Yuan Shao ordered his eldest son Yuan Tan to station the vanguard elite in the dense forest on the valley's left, while he personally commanded the central army at the valley entrance. He intended to beat the drums as a signal once the Fontaine troops entered the encirclement, launching a pincer attack from front and rear.
Unexpectedly, the Fontaine commander had long seen through his scheme and set up three layers of ambushes in return. First, a small number of skirmishers feigned defeat to lure Yuan Shao's central army deep into the valley. When more than half of the Yuan troops had entered, huge boulders suddenly rolled down from both sides of the entrance, cutting off their retreat. Immediately after, arrows rained down from the ridges on both sides of the valley, and several elite units charged out, splitting the Yuan army into isolated segments.
When chaos erupted at the front, Yuan Shao was in his command tent. Sensing disaster, he grabbed his sword to take personal command, only to be shot in the left arm by a stray arrow. With a furious roar, he sliced off the arrow shaft and prepared to charge on horseback—only to see the valley engulfed in soaring flames and deafening shouts of battle. His soldiers were either shot down by arrows or trapped in fierce combat; their formation had long since collapsed.
The Fontaine army had not only encircled them but also prepared oil and fire arrows. Taking advantage of the strong night wind, they set fire to the dead wood in the valley, and the flames spread rapidly. Yuan's soldiers fled in panic through the sea of fire, with countless trampled to death by their own comrades.
Yuan Tan, trapped in the forest on the left valley, saw his father besieged and burned with anxiety. He led his troops to break through and rescue him, but was firmly blocked by another Fontaine ambush unit. The two sides fought fiercely at the edge of the fire. Yuan Tan took the lead, slaying several enemy generals, and sustained multiple wounds, yet could not breach the line.
Inside the valley, Yuan Shao watched his personal guards fall one by one and listened to his soldiers' screams. Thinking of his lifelong reputation reduced to such a plight, a surge of pent-up rage rushed to his chest. He broke into a violent cough—at first dry, then he spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, splattering the front of his commander's standard and staining half of the character "Yuan" crimson.
"You cur!" Clutching his chest, Yuan Shao glared furiously and cursed toward the Fontaine positions outside the valley. His blood qi surged wildly; he coughed up several more mouthfuls of blood, slumped weakly, and fell from his horse. His guards rushed to lift him and carried him to a relatively hidden rock.
Gasping for breath, Yuan Shao stared at the fighting amid the flames, his eyes filled with unwillingness and regret. He called Yuan Tan to his side, gripped his hand, and spoke in a faint yet unshakably authoritative voice:
"My son… Chenyu Valley… is the shield of Hebei… it must not fall… you… shall succeed me… hold this place at all costs… do not let the Fontaine army… cross this line…"
Yuan Tan knelt before his father, tears streaming down his face, choking as he replied:
"Your son… your son obeys! Rest assured, Father—I shall defend this place with my life!"
Yuan Shao looked at his eldest son's resolute face, a flicker of comfort in his eyes. His lips trembled as if he had more to say, then his head tilted, and he breathed his last.
The night wind whimpered, carrying the stench of blood and charred flesh through the valley. Yuan Tan held his father's body, letting out a long, heaven-piercing cry that echoed through the mountains. Wiping away his tears, his gaze turned steely. He placed his father's body in temporary shelter behind a rock, turned, stood with sword in hand, and shouted to his remaining soldiers:
"Soldiers! Our lord is dead, and Chenyu Valley hangs by a thread! By my father's dying order, I now lead our army to hold this valley to the death! Those who will follow me to slay the enemy, charge with me!"
Inspired by the young master taking command in crisis, the remaining Yuan troops rallied and answered the call. Yuan Tan charged into the enemy lines first, his sword flashing with the resolve of vengeance and defense. An even more brutal battle unfolded against the Fontaine forces.
In the night of Chenyu Valley, blood and fire intertwined. A stand that would decide the fate of Hebei had opened a new chapter—forged by Yuan Shao's last wish and Yuan Tan's roar.