"Victory! Victory!"
The cry spread like wildfire across the eastern provinces.
"Marquis Xuanwei has crushed the traitor Dong! Luoyang has been reclaimed!"
"Dong Zhuo has fled west to Chang'an—its fall is only a matter of time!"
As Zhang Xin's urgent dispatch galloped from post station to post station, the news struck the land like thunder. Every commandery, every city east of the passes felt its shockwaves.
Hope—long buried beneath war and betrayal—began to stir once more.
—
Within the garrisons left behind, the reaction was calm… almost expected.
Gao Shun stood upon the walls, arms folded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"My Lord's victory is only natural."
Beside him, Cao Xing nodded.
"In this world, who could stand against him?"
To them, Zhang Xin's triumph was not fortune.
It was inevitability.
—
In the administrative halls, however, emotion surged like a rising tide.
Hua Xin clasped his hands, unable to conceal his joy.
"The Han still has its pillar!"
Guo Yuan and the other officials echoed in agreement, their faces lit with relief.
After years of chaos, they had finally found someone worth following.
Someone who could steady the collapsing sky.
—
Deep within the rear residence, the atmosphere was far gentler.
Zhang Ning sat by a cradle, a letter resting lightly in her hands. Her eyes shimmered as she read, every word etched with pride.
Nearby, her infant son slept peacefully, untouched by the storms of the world.
"My son…" she murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.
"When you grow up, you must be like your father—a hero who stands above all others."
A quiet laugh followed, warm and filled with hope.
From the shadows, a young girl watched—Dong Bai.
She pouted slightly, arms crossed.
"That pretty boy… is he really that strong?"
Her thoughts churned.
"Grandfather was unmatched… yet even he lost?"
Confusion, disbelief—and something else.
Something like curiosity.
—
In a lecture hall not far away, laughter rang out.
Zheng Xuan, the great scholar, could not contain his delight.
"Marquis Xuanwei—he is the Guan Zhong and Yue Yi of our age!"
His voice carried across the hall, filled with conviction.
"To defeat the strong with the weak, to restore the Son of Heaven—such merit rivals the greatest of antiquity!"
The disciples below stirred.
Among them, a young man lifted his head.
Zhuge Liang.
His gaze burned—not with envy, but with aspiration.
"One day…"
His fingers tightened slightly.
"I will stand among such men."
—
Not all welcomed the news.
In Xu Province, fury erupted.
Tao Qian slammed his hand against the table, face flushed with anger.
"Dong Zhongying calls himself a hero of Xizhou? Useless! Utterly useless!"
Around him, his officials exchanged glances before stepping forward.
Zhao Yu spoke carefully.
"Prefect, Marquis Xuanwei has achieved a great victory. It would be appropriate to send congratulations."
Wang Lang followed immediately.
"He holds imperial authority over Qing and Xu. By both rank and reason, we should acknowledge his success."
Mi Zhu nodded in agreement.
"Yes, yes—this is only proper."
Tao Qian's anger faltered.
A moment later, his expression shifted into a simple, almost naïve smile.
"Ah… you're right. I'll write it at once."
The change was so abrupt it left the room briefly silent.
—
Far to the north, in Ji Province—
Fear had already taken root.
Han Fu paced restlessly, his robes disheveled, his face pale.
"Defeated… Dong Zhuo defeated… Luoyang taken…"
Each word felt like a blade against his chest.
As the alliance's supply minister, he had withheld grain. At the time, it had seemed safe—just another calculated move in a web of politics.
But now?
Zhang Xin had won.
Not just won—
He had crushed Dong Zhuo and seized the capital itself.
If Chang'an fell next… if the Son of Heaven were restored…
What excuse would remain?
What shield could protect him?
The thought alone made his legs weaken.
"The man even Dong Zhuo could not defeat… how could I possibly resist him?"
Cold sweat soaked his back.
"Summon Ju Shou! At once!"
—
Moments later, Ju Shou entered, composed as ever.
"Governor, you called?"
Han Fu spoke in a rush, words tumbling over each other like a collapsing dam. When he finished, his voice trembled.
"Xun You… what should I do?"
Ju Shou said nothing at first.
But inwardly, he sighed.
What should you do?
You should have chosen long ago.
If Han Fu had never joined the alliance, he could have remained neutral.
If he had joined, he should have committed fully.
Instead, he had chosen the worst path—hesitation.
Others fought and bled on the front lines, while he withheld support from the rear.
Now, the consequences had arrived.
And they were merciless.
Ju Shou spoke at last.
"My Lord must immediately send grain."
Han Fu blinked.
"And… explain clearly that the delay was due to the immense burden of supplying the allied armies earlier. Now that provisions have been gathered, they are being delivered without delay."
His tone remained steady.
"Marquis Xuanwei is known for his benevolence. If you act swiftly, he will not pursue the matter."
Han Fu's eyes lit up.
"Yes… yes! That's right!"
Relief flooded his voice.
"I'll do exactly that!"
—
But fate was not yet finished with him.
A messenger hurried in.
"Governor—an envoy from Yuan Shao has arrived!"
Han Fu froze.
"Yuan… Shao?"
Why now?
Before he could decide, Ju Shou stepped forward sharply.
"My Lord, consider this carefully."
His gaze hardened.
"Yuan Shao's entire clan was exterminated by Dong Zhuo. His hatred should burn brighter than anyone's."
"And yet—he colluded with Dong Zhuo, slandering Marquis Xuanwei for his own gain."
His voice dropped, cutting like a blade.
"His reputation is in ruins. His forces are weak. He is cornered."
A pause.
"What good could come from meeting him?"
Ju Shou's next words struck like thunder.
"Expel his envoy. Raise troops. Eliminate Yuan Shao."
"In doing so, you remove a traitor—and offer your loyalty to Marquis Xuanwei."
It was decisive.
Ruthless.
Correct.
But Han Fu hesitated.
"I… should still meet him."
Ju Shou's expression darkened.
"My Lord—"
"I was once under the Yuan clan," Han Fu insisted weakly. "To refuse him now would be improper."
Improper.
That single word sealed his fate more surely than any sword.
Ju Shou closed his eyes briefly.
Then sighed.
"As you wish."
—
Moments later, the envoy entered.
He bowed deeply, composed and dignified.
"Xun Chen of Yingchuan greets the Governor."
Han Fu brightened immediately.
"A fellow man of Yingchuan! What fortune!"
In troubled times, nothing felt more comforting than a familiar face from home.
His guard lowered without realizing it.
"Tell me—why have you come?"
Xun Chen lifted his head.
His expression was grave.
His voice, heavy as a funeral bell.
"I have come…"
A brief pause.
Then the words fell—
"…to save the Governor's life."