Dong Zhuo's move was simple—but vicious.
As Emperor Xian of Han was hoisted above the palace wall, the entire battlefield seemed to freeze for a breath. The young emperor's dragon robe fluttered in the cold dawn wind, his face pale, his lips trembling, but he didn't dare make a sound.
The Xiliang Soldiers below immediately surged with renewed fear and desperation.
"Protect the Chancellor!"
"Hold the palace!"
Their morale, which had been wavering under the multi-front assault, suddenly stabilized again—because the situation had changed from "defending a retreat" to "protecting the last bargaining chip of survival."
Zhang Xin's expression darkened.
Dong Zhuo was no fool. He had flipped the battlefield in a single act.
Now the initiative was no longer about who controlled more troops or which gate had fallen.
It was about one thing:
Who would blink first.
Yu Jin clenched his fists. Xu He lowered his voice urgently.
"Lord… if we continue attacking, he may truly—"
Zhang Xin raised a hand.
"Enough."
His gaze stayed fixed on Dong Zhuo on the wall. The fat warlord's sword was still pressed against the emperor's neck, but his eyes… were not as steady as his voice.
He was gambling too.
A man who had truly decided to commit regicide would not talk so much.
Zhang Xin slowly exhaled.
Then he suddenly laughed.
"Dong Zhongying."
His voice carried clearly across the battlefield.
"You are indeed ruthless."
"But there is one thing you misunderstood."
Dong Zhuo narrowed his eyes. "Oh?"
Zhang Xin's smile faded.
"I am not retreating."
The words landed like a hammer.
The battlefield instantly tensed again.
Dong Zhuo's grip tightened slightly on the emperor's shoulder.
"Zhang Ziqing! Do you truly not care if the Son of Heaven dies?!"
Zhang Xin didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he turned his head slightly toward Yu Jin.
"Have our archers take position."
Yu Jin froze. "Lord?"
Zhang Xin's tone was calm.
"Not to fire."
"Just aim."
Then he looked back up at the wall.
"Dong Zhuo."
"I will give you one chance."
"Put down your sword, release the emperor, and surrender."
"Otherwise—"
His eyes sharpened.
"This city will not need you to kill him."
A pause.
The wind over Chang'an grew colder.
Even Dong Zhuo's expression stiffened slightly.
Because he suddenly realized something unsettling:
Zhang Xin wasn't bluffing.
He truly didn't intend to retreat.
And that meant—
This wasn't a siege anymore.
It was about to become a race.
A race between:
Dong Zhuo's finger tightening…
And Zhang Xin's army breaking through the palace walls first.