He originally intended to surrender to Wei, so why did he end up restoring Han?

Chapter 108 Replacement Chapter

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In the summer of 197, Wancheng in Nanyang was like being thrown into a furnace in June. The sun hung overhead, baking the blue bricks of the city walls until they were scorching hot. You could feel the heat when you pressed your hand against them. Even the large "Zhang" banner that used to flutter on the city wall was half-drooping, only occasionally being lifted by a gust of wind carrying a wave of heat, revealing the worn edges of the banner, which were the marks left by Dian Wei's iron halberd during the night raid on Cao Cao's camp the previous year.

Zhang Xiu, clad in heavy armor, sweat and mud clung to his back through the gaps in the plates, making the inner linen stick to his back. He stood on the city tower, his hand on his sword, his gaze sweeping northwards past the pheasant and butterfly-shaped cliffs. The skyline towards Xuchang was distorted by the summer heat, as if even the air itself was burning with the heat of that unresolved blood feud. Memories of surrendering to Cao Cao and then turning against him last year now pierced his ears like the incessant chirping of cicadas beneath the city walls: Cao Ang's blue-nailed sword reflecting in the campfire, Dian Wei's double halberds cleaving through tent poles, Cao Anmin screaming as he was trampled by horses' hooves, and the tearful eyes of his aunt, Lady Zou. That scoundrel Cao Pi had abducted Lady Zou into his tent on the very second day after his surrender.

"General, your armor is heavy and it's hot. Why don't you rest down below the city wall?" Zhou Ping, a personal guard, stepped forward with a water bag, his voice low. This guard was a local of Wancheng. Last year, when Cao Cao's army massacred the city, Zhang Xiu saved his entire family, and he had followed him wholeheartedly ever since.

Zhang Xiu didn't turn around, his knuckles turning white from pressing his sword too hard: "Is the news of Cao Cao's return confirmed?" "Confirmed." Zhou Ping nodded. "The scouts say that Cao Cao's troops are currently retreating towards Xuchang, but—but they've left scouts along the way to keep an eye on our Wancheng."

Zhang Xiu's Adam's apple bobbed, a bitter taste rising in his throat. There was no turning back for him against Cao Cao—the killing of his son, nephew, and beloved general was etched into his very bones. Even if Cao Cao were to spare him, he dared not believe it. But Wancheng was a strategically important location, indefensible and vulnerable. If Cao Cao were to spare any further action, he would be the first to be eliminated.

"General, Mr. Jia has arrived." Another guard's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Zhang Xiu turned around and saw Jia Xu slowly ascending the city wall. This strategist, nearing fifty, wore no armor, only a long blue cloth robe and a worn-out linen cloak. He carried a bamboo-ribbed feather fan, a gift from an old scholar in Wuwei County during his youth. He walked extremely slowly, the hem of his robe stained with dark sweat, yet his face remained gaunt and serene, as if the night raid that had brought about the downfall of the Cao family not long ago was merely a game of chess he had already meticulously planned.

"Mr. Wenhe," Zhang Xiu's voice was low and weary from the summer heat, "Our scouts report that although Cao Cao has returned to Xuchang, he has left Xiahou Dun's troops in Ye County. If we make any move, he could besiege Wancheng in three days. We haven't avenged our past grievances, and our rear is fraught with danger. What should we do?"

Jia Xu walked to the edge of the city and, supporting Zhidie, looked down. The Han River outside the city was murky yellow; the flood season had just ended, and the water level had still overflowed the mudflats along the banks. A few water birds flew low over the water, but dared not linger for long. Most of the farmland in the distance was barren, and occasionally a few refugees carrying their belongings passed by. Upon seeing the guards on the city walls, they hurriedly hid in the woods by the roadside. When Cao Cao's army passed through last year, these people were terrified.

"General's concerns are very valid." Jia Xu fanned himself with his feather fan, his voice low but reassuring. "Cao Cao holds the emperor hostage to command the other lords, and now he has pacified Runan. His power is at its zenith. Although Wancheng has city walls, it has no natural defenses. It's like a pot on a fire; it will be burned through sooner or later."

"Abandon the city?" Zhang Xiu frowned. "But if we abandon Wancheng, where can we go? Surrender to Liu Biao? He controls nine counties in Jingzhou and Xiangyang, but he is indecisive and may not be willing to tolerate us. Surrender to Yuan Shao? Although he is strong in Hebei, he is too far away to help us in our immediate crisis. Moreover, Yuan Shao has many strategists under his command, and if I go there, I will only be adding a dispensable general."

Jia Xu didn't answer. Instead, he took out a yellowed map from his sleeve and spread it out on the stone table on the city tower. He had brought the map from Chang'an last year; the edges were worn, and mountains and rivers were marked on it with ink. He pointed to an area in the southwest corner of the map, the bamboo ribs of his feather fan pausing over the place names "Shangyong," "Fangling," and "Xicheng": "General, are you familiar with these three prefectures?"

Zhang Xiu bent down to examine it closely, his brows relaxing slightly: "Hanzhong is Zhang Lu's territory. It's located at the junction of Jing, Yi, and Sili provinces, all mountainous terrain. I've heard the mountains are high and the roads treacherous, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack. Sir, are you thinking of—"

"It is precisely these three cities that we must take." A glint of light flashed in Jia Xu's eyes. "Although Zhang Lu occupies Hanzhong, he is only interested in maintaining the status quo and only thinks about using the Five Pecks of Rice Cult to win people's hearts. He has never thought about expanding outwards. These three counties of Shangyong are far from the heart of Hanzhong and are mountainous. The troops he sent to defend them are only a few thousand men, and the defenses are very lax. However, these three counties are well located. To the south, they are connected to Jingzhou and can communicate with Liu Biao; to the north, they are connected to Chang'an and can keep an eye on Cao Cao; to the east, they are connected to Nanyang, which is our retreat route; and to the west, they are connected to Hanzhong, which can also restrain Zhang Lu. If we can obtain these three cities, General, we will have a foundation to establish ourselves."

Zhang Xiu's heart skipped a beat, his fingertip tracing the characters "Shangyong," but he quickly frowned: "To seize Shangyong would mean making an enemy of Zhang Lu. Besides, if Cao Cao attacks Wancheng now, and I send my troops far away, wouldn't Wancheng be lost?"

"Zhang Lu, General, there's no need to worry." Jia Xu put away his feather fan and tapped the map with his fingertips. "His Five Pecks of Rice sect looks large, but they're mostly peasant believers. If it really comes to war, they might not dare to fight for this worthless land. As for Cao Cao—" He paused, his gaze sweeping over Zhang Xiu's tense face, "General, have you forgotten? Who is Cao Cao most afraid of right now? It's Liu Bei. Liu Bei has accomplished great things in Xuzhou and defeated Yuan Shu. If Cao Cao wants to secure the Central Plains, he must first eliminate Liu Bei. And then there's Yuan Shao. He's been watching Cao Cao grow stronger in Hebei for a long time and is already unhappy. The two will turn against each other sooner or later. In the next six months, Cao Cao will have absolutely no energy to attack Wancheng. This is a golden opportunity."

Zhang Xiu fell silent. He knew Jia Xu was right. He wasn't one to vie for the throne; in this chaotic world, simply surviving and protecting his troops was already a stroke of luck. What Jia Xu meant by the foundation of survival was actually leverage. The larger the territory and the more troops one had, the better one could command in the future, no matter who one pledged allegiance to, ensuring a more secure life for oneself and one's men.

"How should we proceed according to the plan?" he finally asked, his voice free of its previous hesitation. Jia Xu unfolded the map again, his finger tracing a thin line along the west bank of the Han River: "I have already had someone investigate the situation of the three commanderies. Deng Xian, the garrison commander of Fangling, is an old acquaintance of mine from my days in Chang'an. Back then, he was a colonel under Li Cui and was falsely accused of treason. I was the one who defended him. He is grateful for our past friendship and knows that Zhang Lu is not a wise ruler. I can write a secret letter to persuade him to surrender. Shen Dan, the prefect of Shangyong, is a local strongman with no more than three thousand soldiers, most of whom are temporarily conscripted farmers with little fighting ability. Xicheng is even more deserted, with less than two thousand garrison troops, mostly old and weak. It's as easy as taking candy from a baby."

He looked up at Zhang Xiu and said, "We only need 5,000 elite troops, divided into three routes. One route will disguise itself as a merchant caravan and go to Fangling to contact Deng Xian. Another route will be lightly armed and act as the vanguard, heading towards Shangyong along the Han River trail to catch them off guard. The general himself will lead the central army, under the guise of patrolling the border, and slowly advance westward. Within half a month, we will surely be able to take over the three prefectures."

"Who can serve as the vanguard?" Zhang Xiu asked. Although he had several fierce generals under his command, few were capable of undertaking this important task. "Hu Che'er," Jia Xu blurted out. "This man is of Qiang ethnicity, familiar with the mountainous terrain, and agile. During the night raid on Cao Cao's camp, he managed to snatch a weapon from Dian Wei, demonstrating his bravery. Moreover, he is utterly loyal to the general. Letting him serve as the vanguard will ensure no mistakes. I will accompany the army as a strategist to ensure seamless coordination among the various forces."

Zhang Xiu nodded. He trusted Hu Che'er. Last year, when Cao Cao's troops attacked, Hu Che'er led three hundred Qiang soldiers to defend the south gate to the death. He was hit by three arrows but did not retreat. In the end, it was Jia Xu who used a plan to lure Cao Cao's troops away.

"Alright." Zhang Xiu patted the stone table, causing the ink on the map to tremble slightly. "We will proceed as you have planned, sir. This matter must be swift; preparations must be completed within three days, and troops dispatched within ten."

Jia Xu bowed respectfully, his feather fan waving lightly, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes. He knew this move had been correct. If Zhang Xiu could capture the three counties of Shangyong, his power would greatly increase, and his own value would naturally rise accordingly. In chaotic times, strategists are like ships; only by following a reliable lord can they survive the storms.

On the tenth day of the sixth lunar month, the city gates of Wancheng quietly opened at dawn. The sky was not yet fully bright, and the eastern horizon was only tinged with a light gray, but the summer heat had already begun to rise, and the air was filled with the damp, fishy smell of the Han River.

Hu Che'er led two thousand elite soldiers as the vanguard. They were all dressed in coarse cloth short jackets, carrying ration bags and ring-pommel swords, with water bottles at their waists. Jia Xu specifically instructed them that water was more important than food during summer marches. Half of these soldiers were Qiang soldiers brought by Hu Che'er, and the other half were local veterans from Wancheng. They were all battle-hardened men who knew the importance of this mission. They all kept their heads down and moved very lightly.

"General, everything is ready." The lieutenant, Aguda, walked to Hu Che'er's side and whispered. Aguda was Hu Che'er's cousin. He was shorter than Hu Che'er but more agile and skilled at scouting.

Hu Che'er nodded, his gaze sweeping over the ranks: "Remember it all, stay hidden during the day and go out at night. Find a grove of trees to rest during the day and leave at night."

If you encounter any passersby, don't speak, just walk around them. Anyone who dares to reveal their whereabouts will be court-martialed!

The soldiers responded in unison, their voices low but filled with a fierce determination. Hu Che'er mounted his horse, a short-legged steed from the Qiang region. Though not as tall as the warhorses of the Central Plains, it was adept at traversing mountain paths and resistant to thirst and heat. He reined in his horse and glanced back at the city walls of Wancheng. The shadow of the walls was blurred in the morning mist, like a lurking beast. He knew that this journey meant either capturing Shangyong or dying in the mountains; there was no turning back.

"Go!" he shouted, spurring his horse forward and setting off along the path on the west bank of the Han River.

This narrow path, drawn by local hunters at Jia Xu's behest, was so narrow that only two horses could pass side by side. Steep slopes, overgrown with thorns and bushes, stretched alongside it. In summer, the lush foliage frequently brushed against the soldiers' arms, leaving red welts. As the sun rose, the heat intensified. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, but brought little relief from the heat. The soldiers' clothes quickly became soaked with sweat, clinging to their bodies like damp burlap.

"General, there's a bamboo grove ahead. Shall we rest there for a while?" Aguda pointed ahead, his voice a little hoarse.

His water bottle was empty, and his lips were dry and chapped.

Hu Che'er reined in his horse and looked up at the sun. It was past noon, the hottest time of day. He nodded: "Alright, let's rest in the bamboo grove for an hour, let the brothers have some water and some dry rations."

The bamboo forest was cool, the ground covered with a thick layer of bamboo leaves, soft to the touch. The soldiers unloaded their ration bags and took out their water bottles to drink. Hu Che'er sat on a rock, opened the secret letter Jia Xu had given him, which said that upon reaching Danshui County, a caravan selling medicinal herbs would meet him; the code word was: "Summer lotus has bloomed." He burned the letter, buried the ashes in the soil, and took another sip of water. The water, drawn from the Han River, had a slightly earthy taste, but it was very thirst-quenching.

"General, do you think we can take Shangyong?" a young Qiang soldier leaned closer and asked in a low voice. His name was Batu, and he was only seventeen years old. He had just started fighting with Hu Che'er last year. Hu Che'er patted his head and smiled, "Yes. With Mr. Jia's plan and our brothers' courage, there's nothing we can't take. After we take Shangyong, I'll let you marry a local girl and live a peaceful life."

Batu grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth. All his relatives had died in the war in the Qiang region, and Hu Che'er was his relative. If Hu Che'er said it was possible, he would believe it.

After resting enough, Hu Che'er ordered them to continue their journey. Traveling along the mountain path at night was even more difficult. Without moonlight, they could only rely on torches for illumination, their light flickering like will-o'-the-wisps in the mountains. Every now and then, rabbits or pheasants would leap out of the roadside bushes, startling the soldiers into a flurry of activity. Once, a soldier accidentally lost his footing and nearly fell down the slope, but luckily, Aguda grabbed him, preventing a serious accident.

After three days of travel, we finally arrived at Danshui County. Danshui County is a small county town on the banks of the Han River. Because it is close to the border between Jingzhou and Hanzhong, there are many caravans coming and going. The guards at the city gate do not check much. As long as you pay the tax, you can enter freely.

Hu Che'er had his soldiers wait in the woods outside the city, while he, along with Aguda and two personal guards, disguised themselves as merchants and headed into the city. He wore a long, coarse blue robe and carried a basket full of herbs on his back, while Aguda, disguised as his assistant, carried a bundle of cloth. The guards at the city gate leaned against a pillar, fanning themselves, their eyes unfocused. Upon seeing Hu Che'er and his companions, they merely raised their eyelids: "Pay taxes, five coins each."

Hu Che'er took out twenty coins from his pocket and handed them over: "Sir, we are from Jingzhou, selling some herbs and cloth."

The guard took the money, weighed it in his hand, asked no further questions, and waved them in.

The city was bustling, with stalls lining both sides of the streets selling fruit, snacks, and groceries, their calls echoing throughout. Summer fruits were plentiful—peaches, plums, watermelons—displayed in dazzling array, attracting passersby to stop and look. Hu Che'er, however, had no interest in these things and headed straight for the pharmacy Jia Xu had mentioned.

Yiyuantang was located in an alley in the city center. The storefront was small, with a wooden sign that read "Yiyuantang" hanging at the entrance. Hu Che'er walked in, and the shop was filled with the smell of herbs. A shopkeeper in a long gown was sitting behind the counter doing accounts.

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