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

As Lü Ding proceeded step by step according to his plan, hundreds of miles away, Chenliu City had already fallen silent into night.

The night in Chenliu is very quiet.

This kind of quiet was almost foreign to Cao Cao.

Since fleeing Luoyang, he couldn't remember the last time he had truly relaxed at night. Post roads, deserted villages, dilapidated houses—night was never for rest, but for vigilance. Even with his eyes closed, he had to keep a sliver of awareness out to discern the sounds of the wind, human voices, and even whether the hoofbeats had been a beat too late.

Many times, he didn't even dare to actually close his eyes.

Because closing your eyes means handing your life over to someone else.

At this moment, the city gates of Chenliu were closed, and the night patrols were proceeding in an orderly manner.

The streets were dimly lit, yet there was no sign of chaos. The taverns closed early, and the pedestrians were few and far between, but there was no sign of panicked escape. The wind blew from the depths of the streets and alleys, carrying no smell of blood, nor any hushed whispers, only the short, restrained footsteps of the guards changing shifts, each step in a predetermined rhythm.

The footsteps were very steady.

No rush, no chaos, and no deliberate display of power.

This is not a place to settle down during the escape.

This is setting up camp.

Cao Cao stood before the table, his cloak still on, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. It was a habit he had cultivated over many years, and even though there was no immediate danger, he wouldn't easily let go. With the sword in hand, his mind was at ease.

Stability that comes too quickly can actually make people wary.

Chen Gong stood to the side without saying a word.

He had not removed his armor either, his clothes still bearing the dust of his long journey. The maps and official documents on the table were gently turned by the night wind, but he did not reach out to press them down, but simply watched the oil lamp that was about to go out.

The wick was short, but the flame remained steady.

This lamp reminded Chen Gong of many nights he had spent traveling. The flickering embers in the dilapidated house, the lamps blown out by the wind in the deserted village, and the torches soaked with blood in the rainy night.

In comparison, this lamp is too quiet.

It was so quiet that one dared not let their guard down.

Both of them knew very well that this stability was hard-won.

It wasn't because the city was high and the food plentiful, but because they made it here alive.

From the moment they fled Luoyang, every pause was a gamble. They gambled that the government hadn't had time to react, that local powerful figures hadn't yet taken sides, and that their entourage wouldn't turn against them in the night.

On several occasions, it wasn't even a gamble; it was all about speed.

They abandoned their horse, changed routes, and traveled thirty li through the night.

They hid in the woods beside the official road to avoid the pursuing cavalry, and only dared to set off at dawn;

They shared the last bag of dry rations in the dilapidated temple, and even water had to be consumed sparingly.

One by one, the number of his old followers dwindled; some died on the road, and some simply disappeared without a trace, leaving no trace of their bodies.

That night, Dong Zhuo did not die.

From that night onward, the world began to descend into chaos.

Luoyang was in chaos, Guanzhong was in chaos, and news was leaking out from all directions like a punctured bag. No one could say for sure who would be the next victim.

Chenliu, this is the first time, no gambling is required.

The city gates opened for them, and the county government took the initiative to welcome them. Military tallies, rosters, and grain registers were presented one by one. There was no probing, no shirking, and even the greetings were restrained and swift, as if afraid that if they were a step too slow, they would miss something.

That is why this sense of security feels all the more profound.

It's not like a sanctuary.

It's more like an exchange.

You settle here with me, and I use your name to secure my position.

Cao Cao's finger moved slowly along the map.

Luoyang, Xingyang, Suanzao, Chenliu.

Every step wasn't a straight line, but a detour, an avoidance, a repeated escape from the jaws of death. If one were to draw a line, it would be more like a mark repeatedly broken and then barely pieced back together.

He suddenly smiled.

The smile was very faint, almost imperceptible.

"My strike was too slow."

Chen Gong looked up but did not refute.

This is not a complaint, nor is it regret; it is a statement.

"If it were half a breath faster," Cao Cao said in a low voice, "the person sitting here now would be a different kind of person."

"To have survived is already a blessing from heaven," Chen Gong said.

Cao Cao shook his head.

"It's not destiny."

His gaze fell on a point in the southwest corner of the map.

Yuzhou.

Pingyu.

"There was someone, but no knife was used."

The rain that night, the door that never closed, the lamp that never went out—all these images surfaced in my memory. Rainwater dripped from the eaves, the lamplight cast shadows on the people inside, and the young man standing there never stepped back.

Too young.

His eyes, however, were colder than those of someone with a knife to their throat.

Neither hide nor seek.

Just standing there.

"The son of Lü Boshe," Chen Gong said in a low voice.

Cao Cao grunted in response.

"I've thought about it many times since then," he said. "That night, if the knife had fallen, not a single member of the Lü family would have been spared."

"The world will not hate me any more because of this."

"But I deliberately sheathed my sword."

This is not regret.

Instead, it's a review.

"I've seen too many people who are afraid of me," Cao Cao continued. "Those who are afraid of me will obey me. And those who obey me will show their weakness."

"But that kid is different."

He paused.

"When he looked at me, his eyes were cold. Not with hatred, nor with madness."

"We're already planning the next step."

Chen Gong frowned slightly.

"Does Mengde think he will succeed?"

"He may not achieve great things," Cao Cao replied, "but he will certainly live a long life."

After he finished speaking, he didn't say anything more, as if that memory had been re-archived.

He casually flipped open a newly delivered briefing.

This is not military intelligence.

This is just local news.

Yuzhou, Pingyu County.

Private estates took in refugees, registered and categorized them, and patrolled in teams at night.

Chen Gong's expression changed slightly.

"This is overstepping one's bounds."

"Yes," Cao Cao admitted quickly, "but he did not raise a flag, nor did he declare war."

"Every step was taken on the edge of being explainable."

He picked up his pen and wrote two characters next to the map.

Xu Shen.

"An official from the Inspectorate of Yu Province," Cao Cao said. "Routine investigation."

"Investigate private estates, investigate displaced people, investigate those who have crossed the border."

"He doesn't acknowledge me, and he doesn't owe me anything."

"But he accepts the law."

Chen Gong remained silent.

He knew very well that if he sent someone like that on, things would become uncontrollable.

"It's not a turn back," Cao Cao said calmly, "it's just a casual move."

He looked at the map again.

"What we need to look at now is not just Yuzhou."

"Guanzhong is empty, and Luoyang is in chaos and unsettled."

"Yuan Shao gained fame and prestige in Ji Province, while Yuan Shu stockpiled grain in Nanyang."

"The counties of Yanzhou may appear peaceful, but they will be the first to experience problems."

This is a trap.

It's not an enemy.

Lüjiazhuang is just one point on the chessboard.

Cao Cao put away his pen and rolled up the map.

"I'm not afraid of trouble now," he said. "What I fear is—that there are no more worthy opponents in the world."

The wind outside the tent grew stronger.

The night in Chenliu remains quiet.

Beneath this tranquility, documents were quietly circulating along official roads, post stations, and between prefectures and counties. Documents concerning grain requisition, investigation, and levies were sent out of the city gates, spreading out in different directions.

Some might think that's just a routine matter.

Some people may suddenly find that the wind direction has changed one night.

The night wind in Chenliu grew colder, and the footsteps of the patrolmen swept past in the distance time and time again before returning to their original positions, as if an invisible lock had been placed on the city.

Cao Cao, however, no longer looked at the night sky.

He picked up the cold tea on the table, took a sip, and spoke calmly, yet his direction was already set.

"Tomorrow morning, let's first look at Yanzhou."

The lights were still on.

The world is not yet at peace.