Three Kingdoms: A wise grandson, Cao Wei can last for three generations!

Ma Yunlu dismounted, threw the reins to the gatekeeper, and strode into the camp.

The gatekeeper shouted from behind, "Miss! This is a military camp, you can't just wander in!"

Ma Yunlu didn't even turn her head. She waved the token, leaving the captain speechless.

Cao Rui squatted under the shade of a tree, watching Ma Yunlu walk towards him. His mind raced for a moment—his first thought was to run away, his second thought was that he couldn't escape, and his third thought was that running away would be even more embarrassing.

So he remained crouched, looked up, and gave a harmless smile: "Young lady, who are you looking for?"

Ma Yunlu stopped in front of him, hands on her hips, looking down at him. Sunlight shone down from behind her, making her red dress look like a ball of fire.

Her expression was ambiguous, her eyes slightly narrowed, like a cheetah that had spotted its prey.

"I'm looking for my brother."

"General Ma is in the central command tent. Go that way." Cao Rui pointed to the right, his attitude sincere and his expression innocent.

"I'll find someone else too."

"Who?"

"A pig butcher." Ma Yunlu squatted down to look him in the eye. "He's from Qiao County, his surname is A, his given name is Man, and his family butchers wild boars. Do you know him?"

Cao Rui remained unfazed: "I don't know him. My name is indeed Aman, but my family slaughters cattle."

Ma Yunlu reached out and pinched his ear, giving it a gentle twist: "Keep making things up."

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Yunlu lets go! This is a military camp, be mindful of your behavior!"

"You even know about military camps?" Ma Yunlu released his grip, squatted down beside him, and looked him up and down. "You've lost weight. You're a shade darker. Your face is as dark as the bottom of a pot; your aunt will cry if she sees it."

"Men look better with darker skin." Cao Rui rubbed his ear and chuckled. "What brings you here? Did Grandfather send you?"

"My aunt sent me." Ma Yunlu took out an oil paper package from her bosom and stuffed it into his hand. "My aunt made this for you."

Cao Rui opened the oil paper package, and a fragrant aroma of osmanthus wafted out, making the few new recruits next to him swallow hard.

"Please thank Mother for me."

"Go back and thank them yourself." Ma Yunlu looked at him, then suddenly lowered her voice, "Who gave you that idea for the name 'Aman'?"

"It was my own idea. So what?"

"Did you know that your grandfather's nickname was Aman?"

Cao Rui paused, holding the osmanthus cake, then looked up innocently. "I know. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? You're serving in the Northern Camp under the nickname of the Prince of Wei. Are you afraid people won't recognize you?"

"The most dangerous place is the safest place." Cao Rui put away the osmanthus cake and wiped his mouth. "Who would have thought that the grandson of the King of Wei would join the army using the King of Wei's nickname? This is called being blind to one's own faults."

Ma Yunlu stared at him for a long time, then suddenly sighed: "You're too bold."

As the two were talking, a commotion suddenly arose from the drill ground. Cao Rui looked up and saw several veterans gathered together, pointing in their direction and whispering among themselves.

One of the men, a man in his thirties with a fierce face, was none other than Wang Dubo. He squinted for a while, then suddenly slapped his thigh: "I remember now! That girl—isn't that General Ma's sister?"

Another veteran leaned over: "Which General Ma?"

"Which other General Ma? Ma Chao, the Magnificent Ma! Ma Mengqi of Xiliang!" Wang Dubo's eyes widened. "When General Ma first came to Xuchang two years ago, his sister came to the Northern Camp to deliver some things. I met her once. It's her, no doubt about it!"

The veterans all looked at Cao Rui, who was squatting next to Ma Yunlu, their eyes shifting from curiosity to shock, and then from shock to awe.

"And that guy next to her—"

"Aman."

"Cao Cao? General Ma's sister is here to see Cao Cao?"

Wang Dubo's mind raced for a moment, then his expression suddenly changed.

The King of Wei's nickname was Aman, a fact known to all the officials, but no one dared to call him that.

Now, a greenhorn, bearing the nickname of the King of Wei, is swaggering around the military camp, and Ma Chao's sister personally comes to deliver osmanthus cakes—does this even need guessing?

Wang Dubo's legs felt a little weak.

He walked shakily to Cao Rui, his lips trembling for a long time before he finally managed to stammer, "You...you are—"

Cao Rui raised his head and looked at Wang Dubo's face, which was full of "I understand," and knew that he couldn't keep up the act any longer.

He sighed, stood up, dusted himself off, and said solemnly, "Lord Wang, let's get to know each other again. My name is Cao Rui, and the King of Wei is my grandfather."

The drill ground fell silent.

It wasn't the kind of quiet that follows whispers; it was the kind of absolute silence where you couldn't even hear a breath.

Niu Jin's mouth gaped open, and he nearly dropped the stone lock on his foot. Liu An's eyes were wide open like copper bells, and his jaw almost dropped to the ground.

The copy of "The Art of War" that Deng Ai was holding fell to the ground with a thud. He was completely unaware of it, and just stared at Cao Rui, his lips trembling for a long time, unable to utter a single word—not because he stuttered, but because he was shocked.

Bixie stood behind Cao Rui, expressionless, thinking to himself, "Young master, you've only been hiding your identity for less than a month before it's been exposed. You might as well not have hidden it at all."

Wang Dubo knelt down with a thud: "This humble general was unaware of your arrival, young master, and has been greatly offended—"

"Get up." Cao Rui pulled him up with such force that Wang Dubo stumbled. "Wang Dubo, you did nothing wrong. It was my own fault for not recognizing you. Don't kneel, that's not customary in the military."

Wang Dubo stood up, his legs still trembling. He looked at Cao Rui's sun-darkened face and recalled how he had bossed the boy around, made him run and squat, and cursed him for the past month. Suddenly, he felt that his head was not quite secure on his neck.

Cao Rui saw through his thoughts, patted him on the shoulder, and said with a smile, "Lord Wang, you can scold and punish him as you see fit, I have no objection."

My grandfather said I came to the Northern Camp as an ordinary soldier, not as a prince. If you treat me specially just because I'm the grandson of the King of Wei, then there's no point in me being a soldier.

Wang Dubo was stunned for a long time, then suddenly knelt down with a thud: "Young master, you are so righteous!"

"I told you not to kneel!" Cao Rui pulled him up again, both amused and exasperated. "If you kneel again, I'll really go and complain to General Ma."

Wang Dubo quickly stood up straight, his legs stopped shaking, but his face was still pale.

Soon after, the news spread like wildfire throughout the northern camp. In less than half an hour, from the recruit camp to the central command tent, from the kitchen to the stables, everyone knew one thing—that pig-slaughtering boy named Aman in the recruit camp was the grandson of the King of Wei.

Niu Jin sat in the tent, holding his head and thinking for a long time. Suddenly, he said to Liu An, "I told you he wasn't a pig butcher."

Liu An rolled his eyes: "When did you say that? You kept saying he was strong because he killed wild boars."

"That's what Cao Cao said himself, not what I said," Niu Jin said, looking aggrieved. "I've never even seen a wild boar, how would I know if someone who kills a wild boar could lift an eighty-pound stone weight?"

Deng Ai, clutching "The Art of War," huddled in a corner, silent. His mind raced—Cao Cao was the grandson of the King of Wei, and the King of Wei's grandson was named Cao Rui.

Cao Rui went to Jiangdong to recruit Pang Tong at the age of six, opened an icehouse in Xuchang at the age of seven, went to Hanzhong to recruit Ma Chao at the age of eight, and later made honeycomb briquettes and invited Zhang Zhongjing.

The boy who shared a tent with him for almost a month and listened to his stammering lectures on military strategy every night was the legendary prodigy of the Cao family.

Deng Ai's face turned red again.