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

No one in the hall spoke again.

Zhao Yan remained silent for a long time before finally looking up: "Write a letter."

He paused for a moment as the pen touched the paper, but ultimately wrote down the eight characters—

"If the situation in Liangjing becomes chaotic again, we need reinforcements immediately." He pressed the seal firmly.

He rode hastily out of the city overnight, heading south towards Runan.

Zhao Yan stood in front of the door, watching the torches disappear into the distance, his expression calm, yet without a trace of relief.

He knew that this letter was not just about borrowing troops.

When they hurried into Runan, it was still dark.

The guards at the south gate recognized the Liang Kingdom's seal and, not daring to delay, delivered it directly to the prefectural office.

Han Zixiu was summoned before he could change his clothes. Lü Ding, who was also reorganizing the troops at the military headquarters, came in upon hearing the news.

Upon opening the envelope, Zhao Yan's writing was not hasty. He stated that the southern grain supply route had been repeatedly harassed, making escort difficult, and expressed his willingness to cooperate in stabilizing the border under the guise of joint defense. He added at the end of the letter, "The granaries in Liang are still sufficient; if troops arrive, we are willing to provide grain assistance."

After reading it, Han Zixiu's gaze remained calm: "The Liangcang granary is not empty, meaning the grain carts cannot get out."

Lü Ding nodded: "Although the main force of the Yellow Turbans has retreated, the remnants are still there. They don't attack the city, they only intercept the supply wagons. When their supplies are cut off too often, the Liang army itself falls into chaos."

Xu Huang said in a deep voice, "The bandits are disorganized, yet they harass us every day. We chase them into the forest, but we can't catch them; we defend the city, but they burn our fields."

Xun You said, "If this continues, the southern counties of Liang will have to close their doors to protect themselves."

Han Zixiu said slowly, "If another granary is lost, the local people of Liang will run out of food. People who run out of food will not defend Liang, but will only follow the enemy to survive. At that time, the balance of power will shift, making it even more difficult to defend the city."

Lü Dingdao said, "So now the Yellow Turban rebels are trying to incite unrest among the people of Liang. If the grain carts can't move, the Liang army will be trapped and unable to move."

Xu Huang said, "Then protect the grain carts as they go."

The next day, the Pingjin camp arrayed itself and marched out of the south gate.

Zhang Cheng became the deputy commander and stood at the forefront. Three drumbeats sounded, and the Pingjin camp set off.

Upon reaching the border, a patrol of 500 men from the Liang Kingdom was already waiting beside the post station. They did not raise their flags, but simply lined up to welcome them.

The Liang army captain cupped his hands and said, "Prime Minister Zhao has made it clear that the grain will be supplied by Liang, and we would like to ask you, young master, to guard the grain supply route."

Lü Ding replied, "The grain will be loaded onto carts in Liang territory, and our army will escort it. It will not enter the city."

Captain Liang bowed in gratitude.

The southern granary of Liang Kingdom was not empty; it contained enough grain for two months' military needs. However, as soon as the grain carts left, there were ambushes in the mountains and forests.

The remnants of the Yellow Turban Rebellion did not attack cities or plunder treasuries; they only intercepted transport teams.

What Zhao Yan sought was precisely the stability of this grain transport route.

The first day of escorting the troops went smoothly. Thirty grain carts were transported, with Liang's army leading the way and Pingjin's troops bringing up the rear, forming a tight formation.

The new recruits were still nervous, and Zhang Cheng kept whispering instructions: "Stand firm, don't scatter." The veterans stood by, their gazes cold and hard.

The next day, as they reached the Nanling Mountain pass, smoke rose from the forest. As expected, the ambush troops appeared, more than a hundred men rushing out from behind the slope, specifically targeting the grain carts.

The new recruits hesitated, but Zhang Cheng, without turning around, shouted, "Charge!" The veterans pushed forward, unleashing a forest of spears, and Liang's patrol team followed suit. Seeing that the formation was not in disarray, the ambush troops retreated into the woods.

This battle was not a great victory, but the grain carts were undamaged and the battle formation remained intact.

Looking at the troops whose formation had not yet disintegrated, Liang Jun, the captain, said in a low voice, "The Righteous Cavalry Battalion... no, the Pingjin Battalion, has indeed formed a battle formation."

Zhang Cheng did not pursue, remembering Lü Ding's words—"Don't pursue a desperate enemy."

On the third day, the second batch of grain was loaded onto trucks.

Zhao Yan personally inspected the South Granary, but said little. He simply ordered his men to push thirty more grain carts from the granary to the road crossing, where they would be escorted by both armies.

He stood atop the city wall, watching the convoy depart, and slowly said, "The troops will not enter the city, and the provisions will not leave the border." The aide beside him whispered, "What if Runan comes frequently in the future?" Zhao Yan's gaze did not waver: "Let's get through this for now."

Pingjin Camp was stationed in the southern wilderness of Liang territory and did not enter the city.

The campfires lined up at night, and the soldiers sat facing Liang's patrol team.

Zhang Cheng sat by the fire, wiping his spearhead, with a Liang army captain opposite him. They remained silent for a long time before the captain suddenly asked, "Were you originally a Yellow Turban?" Zhang Cheng nodded. The captain asked again, "And now?" Zhang Cheng looked up at the flags fluttering in the camp: "Now I am a pacifying Yellow Turban army." The captain said nothing more, but handed him a pot of wine.

Several days later, the supply lines were cleared, and the ambushers gradually dispersed.

The remnants of the Yellow Turban rebels probed the enemy's formation several times, but seeing that they remained composed, they turned and fled north.

Pingjin Camp did not pursue the distant enemy, but only maintained a stable supply line.

For the first time, Zhang Cheng truly understood that an army's strength lay not in charging the furthest, but in retreating in an orderly manner and holding the line.

The new recruits gradually learned the formation, and the veterans no longer resisted it. The energy within the formation slowly merged.

The Liang Kingdom contributed 30% of its grain to support the army protecting the route, ostensibly as a supply, but in reality as a means of establishing alliances.

Runan was not lost, and the Liang territory began to stabilize slowly.

The night was deep. Lü Ding stood outside the camp, watching the south wind rise and fall. The southern front was temporarily calm, but the wind had not yet stopped.

Merchants in the distance whispered among themselves: "I heard that the grain from Liang is being escorted by Runan."

Someone else said, "The Pingjin camp did not disperse in the first battle."

The wind travels very fast.

And further away, someone else was listening.

Further west lies Nanyang.

The lamps in Yuan Shu's mansion were still lit at night.

Yuan Shu sat on a high couch, several reports from various prefectures spread out on his desk. There had been many developments in the southern border of Yu Province recently: Chen and Runan were exchanging military intelligence, Liang's grain carts were being escorted by Runan, and the remnants of the Yellow Turbans were gradually retreating. These words were not ostentatious, but when put together, they carried a different meaning.

A subordinate official whispered, "The Liang Kingdom has sought aid from Runan."

Yuan Shu didn't look up, only flipping through the state report, and asked indifferently, "How many times have you pleaded?"

"The grain has been protected twice, and the grain carts are undamaged."

Yuan Shu's fingertip hovered over the paper.

"Twice," he repeated softly, "How far along is Liangcang?"

"According to reports, 30% of the grain was produced in the southern granary."

No one in the hall spoke again.

Yuan Shu closed the state report, his fingertip still resting on that line of text: "Liang provides grain, Runan provides protection."

He didn't mention the granary again, only saying calmly, "Liang will provide the grain, and Runan will send troops."

No one in the hall responded.

The troops haven't entered the city, and the grain hasn't reached the prefecture. But the connection has already been established.

A close attendant cautiously said, "The Liang Kingdom has always been closed off from the world, but now it's willing to run parallel with Runan. Should our lord... intervene?"

Yuan Shu chuckled lightly: "How should I manage it?"

The attendant stopped abruptly.

Yuan Shu rose and walked slowly to the window. The night breeze swept through the corridor, and he looked south, his expression not one of anger, but rather one of contemplation.

"The Yellow Turban Rebellion is not yet over, and Liang's demand for Runan is simply a matter of self-preservation," he said calmly. "But if this continues, with Runan protecting the supply lines and pressing down on the border, the Liang army will get used to it and will become unable to do without the troops in Runan."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "If we can't leave, then that's troublesome."

One of the people in the hall tentatively asked, "Should we summon Lü Ding to the prefecture to report on his duties?"

Yuan Shu did not reply.

He knew that issuing a formal summons at this time would appear hasty. Runan was still under the jurisdiction of the prefecture, and its status had not changed. Pressuring it too early would only force it to defend itself.

"Let's see," Yuan Shu said.

He turned back to his desk, picked up his pen, and wrote a line of small print on the edge of the state newspaper—

"Secretly investigate the organization, number of soldiers, and food supply of the Pingjin Camp."

The brush fell, the ink still wet.

Yuan Shu's gaze was calm, yet colder than before.

The southern front is stable; there's no problem.

The problem is that things stabilize too quickly.

A breeze rises outside the hall, causing the lamplight to flicker.

Yuzhou's gaze has already fallen on Runan.