Chapter 23: A Mere Two Hundred Riders

At dawn, Cao Cao and his two companions fled to Gong County to rest for a while. After feasting on whatever they could find and drinking themselves into exhaustion, they collapsed at an inn and promptly fell asleep.

In his dream, Chen Cong found himself with Cao Rong in one arm and Diao Chan in the other, while Zhi Hua warmed his bed, and a parade of alluring women vied for his attention. Strangely, all these beauties wore the same face, as if copied and pasted from a single mold. Was it her? Chen Cong was puzzled. Wasn't this woman sitting on Dong Zhuo's lap just yesterday? How had she become one of his own concubines?

Scarlet lips drew closer and closer...

Chen Cong suddenly jerked upright from the couch, calling out “Amitabha!” in panic. Dong Zhuo was one thing, but he and Cao Cao were from different generations! What a sin, what a sin...

At that moment, he heard the proud voice of a certain father-in-law echoing in his ear.

“Through such clever schemes, we escaped from Luoyang unharmed. Who else in this world could manage such a feat?”

Chen Cong turned his head to see Cao Cao sitting cross-legged on the opposite couch, boasting to Shi A.

Thankfully, as long as Cao Cao hadn’t set a flag, things would be fine.

Chen Cong stretched lazily, ignoring their conversation. It was the first day he missed the Emerald Red Pavilion of Luoyang.

Shi A’s eyes sparkled as he listened, itching to dance and brandish his sword in celebration. “Indeed, Dong Zhuo lacks decisiveness, Lü Bu lacks courage, Li Ru lacks cunning. Lord Cao’s modest stratagems have the villains spinning in circles.”

Hmm? That damned familiar feeling, that damned tone—could it be...?

Chen Cong’s heart raced, as if some mysterious force had locked onto him. He quickly grabbed Shi A and asked, “What were you two talking about?”

Shi A grinned foolishly, “Lord Cao mocked Dong Zhuo’s stupidity. If he had dispatched cavalry along the river to pursue us, we’d be trapped like fish in a barrel.”

Damn! The flag wasn’t avoided; it had been set while he was asleep!

No matter how vigilant he was, he could never guard against Cao Cao’s repeated, all-encompassing, self-destructive logic bombs!

Cao Cao, having bottled up his boasts all day yesterday, now let them out, feeling immense satisfaction. He even teased Chen Cong, “Why the dark face, Zi Ning? Don’t panic. If we press on for half a day more, we’ll reach Hangu Pass and escape along the route of our families.”

Escape? They might run straight into the hands of the enemy the moment they stepped out.

Chen Cong had underestimated his father-in-law’s causality; in fact, there was no need for them to even leave the room.

The next moment, the bedroom door was kicked open with brutal force.

The innkeeper led a group of armored soldiers inside, pointing at the three men.

“Here are the thieves, sir,” he said.

“Excellent,” Zhang Xiu replied with a smile.

He had searched everywhere, and now, unimaginable fortune had fallen into his lap!

The innkeeper, oblivious to his fate, rubbed his hands nervously, grinning.

“Sir...the reward notice mentioned a thousand gold and a marquis title, heh heh heh...”

Blinded by greed, the small man saw only the immediate reward, failing to notice the danger lurking behind it. A thousand gold and a marquis title were indeed tempting, but he forgot that the general he brought was human, too.

Clang!

The sword flashed from its sheath, unexpectedly plunging straight into the innkeeper’s chest.

With a blank expression, Zhang Xiu wiped his blade clean with the dead man’s clothes, then ordered his guards, “Grand Tutor’s command: any who harbor the two thieves shall have their families executed. Find this man’s kin and kill them all.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then Zhang Xiu turned his sword toward the three men.

“Surrender, all of you!”

Shi A was annoyed. He was an accomplice, so why did the general only speak of two thieves? Did his reputation mean nothing?

He rose, drawing his sword. With a tap of his toe, he moved forward, reversed his grip, and, using his body’s momentum, struck a powerful blow, severing Zhang Xiu’s sword and then skillfully swept his blade to block the soldiers.

With flair, he said, “Big brother, Lord Cao, go first!”

For a moment, both sides fell silent.

It was undeniable that Shi A’s swordsmanship was extraordinary, far beyond ordinary men. Yet his style was peculiar. In a life-or-death situation, he merely broke the opponent’s sword, when a step further could have slit their throat or severed an arm.

Zhang Xiu shuddered, quickly grabbing a silver spear from his men.

“You won’t escape. This place is surrounded by two hundred cavalry.”

Shi A snorted and looked back, calling out, “Big brother?”

But Chen Cong sat unmoving, eyes closed as if asleep.

...

So this was it...

Blood was hot, splattering the face with a faint, metallic stench.

Those who died violently were terrifying; the agony they suffered in life twisted their faces grotesquely.

A sword through the chest, a ruptured heart sent blood spurting six feet. This was the truest depiction of lives as cheap as grass in a chaotic era.

Chen Cong forced a laugh.

He had imagined the general’s bravado, blade poised, swallowing the world like a tiger.

He forgot about the bones beneath the clashing armor.

When ideal met reality, he realized how naive he had been before.

Simply fantasizing, he dared to see the world’s heroes as nothing.

He did not know that to leave a name in history, one must use human bones as a ladder!

Every famous general in history, without exception, was a monster crawling from heaps of corpses and seas of blood!

Huang Zhong, Lü Bu—both the same.

Without the resolve for life and death, how could one be called a general?

“Zi Ning...Zi Ning, Zi Ning!!!”

Amid Cao Cao’s anxious cries, Chen Cong slowly opened his eyes.

He smiled softly, “Father-in-law, don’t worry. Merely two hundred cavalry.”

Shi A was astonished: his big brother was indeed more composed than he.

Cao Cao stroked his beard and smiled: his son-in-law was indeed valiant.

Zhang Xiu, holding his silver spear, looked at Chen Cong as if he were an idiot.

Merely two hundred cavalry? Merely?

Did this man truly understand what a cavalry formation meant? Forget capturing three men, on open ground two hundred cavalry could scatter two thousand infantry. One against ten was a conservative estimate.

Of course.

Human sorrow is not shared; Zhang Xiu’s thoughts were his own.

Chen Cong, having clarified the path before him, took his first step forward.

Merely two hundred cavalry.

Either carve out a blood-soaked path and write his own legend,

Or die on the spot, becoming a stepping stone for another’s fame.

He gripped the hidden tiger saber, its tip tapping the floor as he dragged it along—his whole demeanor transformed.

Gone was the playful carelessness; in its place was an arrogant defiance of the world.

“Second brother, fall back. Guard father-in-law and follow me out.”

“Oh, alright.” Shi A instinctively shifted, sword in hand, to Cao Cao’s side.

Chen Cong, dragging his blade, walked up to Zhang Xiu. Without a word or question, he raised the saber and struck.

The room was cramped; Zhang Xiu had nowhere to dodge and could only raise his spear to block.

Clang!

The metallic clang was deafening.

What tremendous strength Chen Cong possessed! His full-force blow snapped the silver spear in two, and the sheer power sent Zhang Xiu flying like a cannonball. He crashed into seven or eight soldiers and slid seven or eight meters out of the bedroom before stopping.

“General?”

Zhang Xiu staggered to his feet, waved off the soldiers trying to help him, and was about to order an attack when he coughed up blood.

Taking a few steps, his organs ached as if tossed by stormy seas. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees.

From a distance, he looked just like a man kneeling in surrender.