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

In mid-September, the North Camp held a grand competition.

Elite soldiers from each battalion gathered at the drill ground to compete in archery, swordsmanship, strength, and formations, creating a lively and intense atmosphere.

Cao Rui represented the new recruits in three events: lifting stone weights, archery, and sword and spear sparring.

He effortlessly lifted the 120-pound stone weight, raising it above his head with one hand, walking around three times, and then gently setting it down. The entire audience was silent, then erupted in thunderous applause.

He was equally adept at archery, shooting five arrows in quick succession, each one piercing the bullseye, turning the bullseye into a hedgehog.

In sword and spear sparring, he was even more formidable. He wielded his iron halberd with such ferocity that his opponent couldn't even get close before being forced out of the circle.

The recruit camp won three first places, and Wang Dubo couldn't stop smiling.

Ma Chao personally delivered the prize to Cao Rui—a jet-black steed with snow-white hooves and a mane as smooth as satin; it was clearly no ordinary horse.

"This horse is called 'Snow-Treading Black Steed,' and it was brought from Xiliang. It's said to be the same breed as Xiang Yu's Black Steed from back then," Ma Chao said, patting the horse's back with a pained expression.

He originally intended to keep the horse for himself or present it to Cao Cao, but he couldn't resist having a sister at home who always sided with outsiders.

At Ma Yunlu's repeated requests, Ma Chao finally relented and gave the horse to Cao Rui as a prize.

Cao Rui stroked the black horse, his heart filled with joy. Xiang Yu's black horse was a famous steed throughout history. Although he didn't have Xiang Yu's black horse, he had Xiang Yu's model and this "Snow-Treading Black Horse," which could be considered as fulfilling a dream.

"Thank you, General Ma."

Ma Chao waved his hand: "Don't thank me. You won on your own."

After the martial arts competition ended, Cao Rui led his black steed, Ta Xue, across the training ground of the northern camp, feeling majestic and awe-inspiring, like a true general.

"Young Master—no, Cao Cao!" Niu Jin ran over, his face beaming with excitement. "Your horse is so handsome! A fine horse truly suits a hero; you two are a perfect match!"

Cao Rui's lips unconsciously curled into a smile as he was showered with compliments from Niu Jin: "That's right! That's right!"

Niu Jin chuckled and circled the Snow-Treading Black Steed several times, his eyes shining.

Deng Ai, holding "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu, stood to the side, looking at the black horse, and suddenly stopped stuttering: "This horse is no worse than Xiang Yu's black horse back then."

Cao Rui glanced at him and smiled: "You know Xiang Yu too?"

"I know. It's written in the Records of the Grand Historian." Deng Ai paused, "Xiang Yu was strong enough to lift a tripod cauldron and exceptionally talented. Unfortunately—he was stubborn and self-willed, and in the end, he committed suicide at the Wujiang River."

Cao Rui nodded: "So brute force alone is not enough; you also need brains."

Deng Ai glanced at him, the corners of her mouth curled up slightly, and then she lowered her head to read again.

In early October, Yecheng experienced its first snowfall of the year.

Cao Rui took leave from the Northern Camp and rode his black horse, Ta Xue, back to the city. This horse was fast and steady, and it took him less than half an hour to get from the Northern Camp to Ye City, more than twice as fast as his previous Western Region horse.

"Young master, your horse is truly magnificent!" The guards at the gate stared wide-eyed at the sight of the black horse.

Cao Rui chuckled and spurred his horse into the city.

Upon arriving at Xun Yu's residence, Cao Rui saw a carriage parked outside, with the character "Xun" embroidered on the curtain. Cao Rui was overjoyed—Xun Yu had returned?

He dismounted and ran into the mansion in a few strides. Sure enough, Xun Yu was sitting alone in the main hall, drinking tea.

"My lord!" Cao Rui ran over and stopped in front of Xun Yu. "When did you arrive?"

"Just arrived." Xun Yu smiled slightly. "I finished dealing with things in Xuchang and came to Yecheng to take a look."

Cao Rui sat down opposite him and looked him up and down. Xun Yu looked much better than when they last met; although he was still rather thin, he was at least not as sickly as before.

"My lord, how are you feeling?"

"Much better. Zhang Gong's medicine is very effective." Xun Yu picked up his teacup and took a sip. "I heard you're serving in the Northern Camp?"

"Yes. I've been practicing for over a month."

"How's the training going?"

Cao Rui recounted the martial arts contest. Xun Yu listened and smiled slightly: "Not bad. But strength and archery alone are not enough. Warfare relies on strategy, not brute force."

"You are right, sir. That's why I'm studying military strategy with Deng Ai."

"Deng Ai? The one who stutters?"

Cao Rui nodded: "Does Your Excellency know him?"

"I know." Xun Yu put down his teacup. "I met him once in Xuchang. Although that boy stuttered, he was very knowledgeable. His strategy for land reclamation was very insightful."

Cao Rui's heart skipped a beat. Deng Ai's land reclamation policy—historically, Deng Ai promoted land reclamation in Huainan, accumulating a large amount of grain for Cao Wei and laying the foundation for the later conquest of Wu.

"My lord, what do you think of Deng Ai's strategy of establishing military colonies?"

Xun Yu thought for a moment and said, "It's feasible. But it will take time. Land reclamation isn't something that can be effective in a year or two; it will take eight to ten years to see results."

"Then let's take ten or eight years," Cao Rui said seriously. "Anyway, we're not in a hurry."

Xun Yu looked at him, his gaze gentle: "You certainly think far ahead."

"I can't help but think about the future," Cao Rui chuckled. "As Mr. Jia said, 'He who does not plan for the future will have trouble in the present.'"

Xun Yu smiled, a faint but genuine smile.

That evening, Cao Cao hosted a banquet at the Wei Palace to welcome Xun Yu.

All the civil and military officials came, even Ma Chao brought Ma Dai from the northern camp. Cao Zhi didn't come—he was still in Xuchang, with his little white dog, raising his pet dog, and writing his poems.

"Wenruo, how is it in Xuchang?" Cao Cao asked, sitting in the main seat and holding a wine cup.

Xun Yu put down his wine cup and said slowly, "Everything is fine. The people live in peace and prosperity, and the markets are thriving. Your Majesty can rest assured."

Cao Cao nodded, then asked, "What about Zijian? How is he doing in Xuchang?"

Xun Yu paused for a moment, then said, "The Marquis of Pingyuan lives in Xuchang, spending his days reading, writing poetry, raising dogs, and growing flowers. He lives a very comfortable life."

Cao Cao frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed: "Let him be at ease. Let him be at ease."

Cao Pi sat beside him, holding a wine cup, his face expressionless. But Cao Rui noticed that his fingers, which were holding the cup, were slightly white.

Yang Xiu stood in the crowd, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Cao Cao and Cao Pi, his expression not very pleasant.

"Your Majesty, I have something to report," Yang Xiu stepped forward and bowed.

Cao Cao glanced at him: "What is it?"

"The Marquis of Pingyuan is in Xuchang, and he misses Your Majesty every day, losing his appetite and unable to eat or drink. I humbly request Your Majesty to summon the Marquis of Pingyuan back to Ye City."

A moment of silence fell over the banquet. Everyone looked at Yang Xiu, then at Cao Cao.

Cao Cao held his wine cup, remaining silent for a long time. Then he laughed, a soft laugh that sent chills down one's spine.

"Zijian misses me? Then why doesn't he write to me?"

Yang Xiu's expression changed: "Your Majesty, the Marquis of Pingyuan is not good with words—"

"Not good with words?" Cao Cao interrupted him. "Zijian wasn't good with words? How come he was so eloquent when he wrote 'Ode to the Bronze Sparrow Terrace'?"

Yang Xiu was speechless.

Cao Cao put down his wine cup, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Yang Xiu: "Chief Clerk Yang, aren't you being a little too concerned about Cao Zhi's matter?"

Yang Xiu, sweat beading on his forehead, said, "Your Majesty, I—I only—I only care about the Marquis of Pingyuan."

"Concerned?" Cao Cao laughed. "Are you concerned about Zizheng, or about your own future?"

The room fell silent. Yang Xiu's face was pale, and his lips trembled for a long time, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Cao Cao waved his hand: "Alright, you may leave. I have my own plans for Zijian's matter."

Yang Xiu bowed and retreated into the crowd, his face ashen as if he had swallowed a pound of bitter herbs.

Cao Rui watched this scene and sighed inwardly. Yang Xiu was indeed clever, but his cleverness was too blatant.

He helped Cao Zhi vie for the heirship, and his assistance was far too obvious. Cao Cao was neither blind nor foolish; he saw it all clearly.