Overthrowing Wei: Starting with Cao Cao's "I'd rather betray the world than surrender

After the drumbeats subsided, the central army of the Yicong Camp suddenly took another half step forward. That half step was not large, but it felt like a blade pressing into flesh.

The shields in the front row pushed forward in unison, while the spears thrust diagonally, targeting the gaps in the shields and areas where the soldiers' steps faltered. The Yellow Turban front, already squeezed into the narrow space below the city walls, unable to retreat or turn, was immediately thrown into disarray by this pressure.

The Black Horse commander shouted for them to hold their ground, but his voice sounded distant amidst the chaotic clanging of metal.

The soldiers in the front line began to instinctively shrink back; as one person retreated, the two behind him were pulled along with him.

Once the shield wall loosens its grip, the spears will poke in.

The infantry of the Righteous Cavalry advanced at a steady pace, their steps pressed down by the drumbeats, like a millstone grinding stones.

On the city wall, the defenders' breathing gradually quickened.

The battering rams that were originally meant to ram the gate were dragged to the rear of the formation, and the Yellow Turbans' offensive completely turned into a confrontation, and the first wave of attacks in the confrontation was held off.

The Black Horse commander's eyes turned cold, and he suddenly ordered the two wings to press forward, attempting to tear a gap from the side.

He clearly judged that a frontal attack would be difficult to break through, so he could only gamble on a flanking maneuver.

However, the cavalry units on both flanks of the Righteous Cavalry Battalion had already regrouped.

The cavalry did not charge, but instead pressed laterally along the line, blocking the Yellow Turbans' lateral movement. The Yellow Turban soldiers tried several times to bypass them, but were forced back by their spears.

The battle line was firmly locked within a hundred paces of the city walls, making it difficult to advance or retreat.

In that instant of stalemate, the drumbeats of the militia suddenly changed, and the front ranks suddenly shouted in unison, their shields rising half an inch, their spearheads emerging from beneath the shield edges, thrusting three times in quick succession. It wasn't a desperate gamble, but a standard movement practiced countless times.

The three men at the front of the Yellow Turbans fell, and the men behind them lost their footing.

Chaos is the most deadly.

The dark horse commander finally realized that he was not facing a hastily assembled, scattered force, but a formidable army that had come in formation.

He made a quick decision and ordered the entire army to retreat, but it was too late.

The terrain below the city wall is narrow and crowded at the rear; once people retreat, they are trampled into a heap.

Two drummers were shot down, the flag fell askew, and the morale of the army began to truly collapse.

The central army pressed forward to within a hundred paces of the city walls, but the cavalry on both flanks did not stop. Instead, they slowly expanded outwards, like a tightening net, pushing the battlefield southwards. The drumbeats were not hurried, but each beat was rhythmic, forcing the Yellow Turban lines to retreat continuously.

A crescent-shaped blockade gradually took shape, leaving only a southward retreat route for the Yellow Turbans. On the surface, it seemed like a release, but in reality, it was a three-sided encirclement with one side missing. While it appeared to offer an escape route, it also undermined the Yellow Turban army's morale.

The commander of the Black Horse Army saw the situation clearly, but he knew that if they didn't take this route, their entire army would be wiped out. He immediately led his personal guards in a breakout.

More than twenty guards followed closely on either side, shields protecting the front and spears clearing the way. The black horse neighed, its hooves trampling over the disordered soldiers and tattered flags as it charged forward.

The cavalry on both flanks of the Yicong Battalion suddenly contracted, not to intercept head-on, but to cut diagonally.

Several riders charged out, targeting the personal guards' flanks, their spears aimed not at the commander, but at the bodyguards.

Half of his personal guards fell, and the Black Horse commander roared angrily, slashing down a rider with his backhand, and charged forward more than ten steps.

At that very moment—

A heavy arrow flew from the side and behind, striking the black horse squarely in the foreleg.

The warhorse neighed, its forelegs buckled, and it collapsed violently.

The general tumbled to the ground, and before he could get up, two spears were already crossed and pressed down.

He drew his sword to fight, but a shield blocked his shoulder. His personal guards were dead and scattered, the drumbeats faded into the distance, and the battle line collapsed.

The Black Horse general looked up and saw a neatly pressed-in shield wall.

The Yi Cong Battalion did not kill indiscriminately; the spear tip stopped three inches in front of his throat.

Xu Huang rode up close, his gaze steady.

"Discard the blade."

The commander remained silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. He then released his grip, and the blade fell to the ground.

Seeing their commander captured, the remaining Yellow Turban soldiers around them completely collapsed in their last resistance. Some threw down their armor, some fled, and some knelt down and threw their spears.

The Yellow Turban army had completely scattered into a chaotic mass, and dust and smoke were still rolling southward, but there was no more sound of drums.

On the city wall, the defending soldiers were stunned at first, and then burst into thunderous shouts.

Han Chang did not join the cheering crowd.

What he saw was that the volunteer battalion did not charge into the fleeing army to pursue and kill, but quickly regrouped and escorted their commander back to their lines. The defensive line was re-established, and the scouts had already traveled five miles south.

The Black Horse general, his hands bound behind his back and his cloak dusty, was being escorted, yet he still looked up at the city walls. He knew that this defeat meant more than just the loss of the city.

The first cheer erupted from the city wall, followed by a wave of applause.

Chen Guo Biejia nearly collapsed beneath the battlements, taking a long time to recover. When he looked up, he saw that the Yicong Battalion's formation remained orderly, undisrupted by victory. The drumbeats ceased, and the soldiers stood in neat rows, as if the life-or-death clash had been nothing more than a routine drill.

The city gates slowly opened, and Lü Ding rode into the city, his armor stained with blood, his expression calm.

The city streets and alleys were still not calm, and people were peeking out from behind their doors, while many more were kneeling by the roadside.

The Yi Cong Battalion did not enter the city in large numbers, but only accompanied by a few dozen personal guards. The rest of the troops remained outside the city to maintain their lines, as if they had only taken a blow for the city, rather than intending to occupy it.

Chen Guo Biejia quickly stepped forward, cupping his hands to the ground: "Thank you for your help, young master."

Lu Ding did not dismount, but simply raised his eyes and asked, "Where is the person in charge of the city?"

The charioteer paused, then said in a low voice, "The Prime Minister is already waiting to see me in the main hall of the inner city."

Lu Ding glanced around the city gate, inside and out, and only after confirming that the battle lines were intact did he dismount and hand the reins to his personal guard.

"Lead the way," Lü Ding said.

Chen Guo, the Prefect, stepped aside to lead the way, and the group passed through the streets and alleys of the outer city.

The earlier panic had not completely subsided. The gates of the neighborhood were half-closed, and the people were talking in hushed tones, but no one made a fuss.

Some people kowtowed at the street corner, while others prostrated themselves at a distance. Lü Ding's expression remained unchanged, and his steps were composed.

Upon entering the inner city, stone steps rise high, and under the eaves of the main hall hangs an old plaque from the Chen Kingdom, its paint slightly faded, yet it is wiped spotless.

The hall door was open, and a person stood on the steps inside. He was not dressed in fine clothes, but only in a dark blue robe with a simple belt around his waist. His hair was neatly tied up, and his gaze was calm.

The Prefect of Chen said in a low voice, "Prime Minister."

The man slowly descended the steps, cupped his hands in greeting, and remained neither humble nor arrogant.

"Chen Guoxiang Luo Jun greets you, young master. Chen City was saved today thanks to your assistance."

Lu Dingyi returned the salute with a cupped hand: "If chaos breaks out in the city first, our army will also find it difficult to maintain its formation. This battle is not the achievement of one person alone."

Luo Jun's gaze swept over Lü Ding's back, as if to confirm whether he had brought a large force into the city. Seeing only a few dozen personal guards, his expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Your troops are outside the city and have not entered to disturb the people. The State of Chen will certainly remember this."

Lu Ding said calmly, "The soldiers are there to defend against the enemy, not to disturb the people."

The two stared at each other for a moment. The drumbeats outside the city had stopped, and the wind whistled past the eaves.

Luo Jun stepped aside and led them into the main hall, gesturing for them to sit. The two sat facing each other.

The room was simply furnished, with neatly arranged desks and tables. Several urgent letters were spread out on the desks, their seals still fresh.

Luo Jun stated frankly, "The Yellow Turbans have come not only to capture Chencheng. With Yangxia lost and refugees thronging the area, the southern front is in jeopardy. If it weren't for your timely arrival, young master, Chencheng would likely be difficult to defend."

Lu Ding glanced at the hastily written document on the table: "Does the Prime Minister have any contingency plan?"

Luo Jun did not mince words: "Defense. First, stabilize the people's hearts, then prepare the army. The State of Chen will not lightly speak of annexing another state, nor will it lightly speak of retreating."