Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

The day Cao Cao left Luoyang, the sky had just cleared up.

The days of rain finally stopped, but the official road was still muddy and wet. Horses hooves splashed up patches of brown water as they trod on it.

He led twenty riders, all skilled men selected from the Eastern Palace guards, heading north, passing through Henan and Ji County, and galloping towards Youzhou.

Three days after leaving the capital, people gradually began to appear along the roadside.

But the sight of "human habitation" made Cao Cao's heart sink little by little.

On the fifth day, we passed through Dangyin.

Several ragged people were squatting by the roadside, digging something in the mud.

Cao Cao reined in his horse and looked over, only to find that they were digging up grass roots—the kind of bitter grass roots that even livestock wouldn't eat in previous years.

An old woman raised her head, her face wrinkled like a cracked riverbed.

When she saw Cao Cao's cavalry, she shrank back in fright and hid the handful of muddy grass roots behind her back.

Cao Cao dismounted, walked up to her, and knelt down.

"Grandpa, these grass roots... are they edible?"

The old woman didn't dare look at him, only nodding tremblingly, "Yes...yes..."

Cao Cao remained silent for a moment, then took out a few Wuzhu coins from his pocket and placed them in her hand.

The old woman was stunned. She looked up at him, and tears suddenly welled up in her cloudy eyes.

Her lips trembled as she tried to say something, but in the end she just knelt down and kowtowed.

Cao Cao helped her up and prevented her from falling.

He stood up, mounted his horse, and continued on his way. He suddenly remembered Liu Bian's words.

"They believed in Zhang Jiao because Zhang Jiao gave them a reason to live."

Zhang Jiao is dead now. But what about these people? Did they survive?

-

On the seventh day, they entered Ji Province.

More and more refugees were arriving on the official road, supporting the old and carrying the young, pushing wheelbarrows piled high with their tattered belongings.

Some people collapsed while walking and never got up again. There were new graves by the roadside, the soil was still wet, there were no tombstones, only a withered branch stuck in them.

Cao Cao stopped a middle-aged man and asked him where he was going.

The man's eyes were blank as he pointed north: "I heard that in Youzhou... one can survive."

"Where are you from?"

"Julu." The man lowered his head. "When Zhang Jiao started his rebellion, our village was swept through three times by government troops and bandits. Houses were burned, land was abandoned, and food was gone. We couldn't survive, so we had to flee."

Cao Cao asked them, "Do you hate Zhang Jiao?"

The man was stunned for a long time.

Then he said something that Cao Cao would never forget for the rest of his life:

"I don't know who to hate. When Zhang Jiao came, we had food to eat with him. When the government troops came, they called us thieves and killed our people. But the government troops also distributed disaster relief grain, although it didn't reach us... We just want to live. Whoever can keep us alive, I'll follow them."

After he finished speaking, he pushed the wheelbarrow away.

Cao Cao stood there, watching the group of refugees gradually disappear into the distance, without moving for a long time.

—The battle report said "the enemy numbered in the millions".

But are these people really "thieves"?

-

On the ninth day, we spent the night at Yecheng Post Station.

Cao Cao spread out a map under the lamplight, pointing north along the official road. Tomorrow we'll pass Handan, the day after tomorrow we'll enter Youzhou, and in three more days we'll reach Zhuojun.

He recalled Liu Bian's words before he left: "Of those three, two are also men who can defeat ten thousand men."

A match for ten thousand men.

No matter how sharp the sword is on the battlefield, how can it alleviate the suffering of the common people?

He turned off the light, lay down, but couldn't fall asleep.

A breeze was blowing outside the window, making the paper windows of the post station rustle. He suddenly remembered the refugees he had seen during the day, the old woman, and the middle-aged man.

What's wrong with this world?

-

The twelfth day, Zhuojun.

When Cao Cao entered the city, it was afternoon.

Zhuojun City was not large, and its streets were not wide, but it had more life than the dilapidated county towns along the way. He asked around and finally found a low thatched house on the edge of the East Market.

A straw mat shed was set up in front of the house, and several bundles of straw sandals were placed under the shed. A young man was sitting there, weaving with his head down.

Cao Cao reined in his horse and watched for a long time.

The young man was wearing a coarse cloth short brown shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing a section of his lean forearm.

He weaves straw sandals slowly but steadily, arranging each blade of grass neatly. Most strikingly, his ears are unusually large.

Cao Cao dismounted, walked over, and stood in front of the straw mat shed.

"May I ask if you are Liu Bei, Liu Xuande?"

The young man looked up.

His face was quite ordinary, his skin tanned dark, and his eyes revealed a kind of honesty. But those eyes—those eyes made Cao Cao's heart skip a beat.

Those are not the eyes of an ordinary person.

Calm, still, like a deep pool of water, the bottom of which cannot be seen.

"That is indeed me." The young man put down his straw sandals, stood up, and dusted off his robes. "And you are?"

Cao Cao cupped his hands in greeting: "Cao Cao, courtesy name Mengde, from Qiao County, Pei State."

Liu Bei's eyes flickered slightly.

"Cao Cao?" he repeated, then suddenly laughed. "Is that the guard Cao from the Eastern Palace in Luoyang?"

Cao Cao was taken aback: "How did you know, Lord Xuande?"

Liu Bei pointed to the sword at his waist:

"When an ordinary person carries a sword, the scabbard wears the most on the tip of the sword, because that's where the sword is first worn when it's drawn. The sword under your feet has the heaviest wear on the guard—that's from when you were wearing armor and the sword was hanging at your waist, the armor plates rubbing against it."

He paused, then chuckled, "Who else could be surnamed Cao and serve in the Eastern Palace in Luoyang, besides Cao Mengde?"

Cao Cao was stunned for a long time after hearing this.

Then he suddenly laughed.

"I've long heard that Lord Xuande makes a living by weaving mats and selling shoes, but seeing it today—his discerning eye is not something a shoe seller should possess."

Liu Bei smiled too, his smile revealing a simple honesty, but the light in his eyes hadn't diminished at all.

"You've come all this way, surely not just to buy straw sandals." He stepped aside. "Please come in."

-

The thatched hut was small, containing only a bed, a pot, and a crooked wooden table.

Liu Bei invited Cao Cao to sit down, then squatted at the door, took the water boiling on the stove, poured a bowl of it, and handed it to him.

"Please don't find this tea too simple."

Cao Cao took it and drank a sip.

The water was plain water; there wasn't even any tea leaves.

But he didn't say anything.

He put down his bowl and looked at Liu Bei: "Lord Xuande, do you know why I have come?"

Liu Bei nodded: "I can guess a bit of it."

"Oh?"

Liu Bei raised his head and looked at him:

"In recent years, the story of that Crown Prince in Luoyang has spread far and wide."

"The lifting of the ban on the party, the removal of Zhao Zhong, the establishment of the Tian Shang... when the news reached Zhuojun, I could hardly believe it."

He paused, a complex look appearing in his eyes:

"At eleven years old, I accomplished all this. When I was eleven, I was still worried about whether I would have enough to eat tomorrow."

Cao Cao remained silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Would Lord Xuande be willing to come with me to Luoyang?"

Liu Bei did not answer immediately.

He just looked out the door, at the sparse pedestrians on the street, and at the hazy sky in the distance.

"Lord Cao," he suddenly spoke, "on your way from Luoyang, did you see any of those refugees?"

Cao Cao nodded.

"Did Cao Cao ever consider—why were they refugees?"

Cao Cao remained silent.

Liu Bei stood up, walked to the door, and turned his back to him:

"I've been selling straw sandals in Zhuojun for several years and have seen too many people."

"Some came to escape famine, some to hide from soldiers, and some were forced to live by the government."

"They came, but still couldn't survive, so they continued north, to the desolate mountains on the edge of Youzhou, cleared a piece of land, planted some grain, and waited to be robbed by the Xianbei or starve to death."

He turned around and looked at Cao Cao:

"Lord Cao, I've heard about what His Highness the Crown Prince did in Luoyang."

"The Heavenly Merchant Guild and Ding'an Powder are all good things."

"But what about Ji Province? What about Yan Province? What about Yu Province? Those places trampled by the Yellow Turbans, those who are still alive, will they be able to wait until the end?"

Cao Cao was stunned.

He looked at Liu Bei and suddenly understood why Liu Bian had sent him to find this person.