Chapter 28: A Fortunate Misstep

One must seize fame early, and an appropriate stepping stone is even more necessary.

After Cao Cao’s series of audacious moves, his reputation soared tenfold compared to the same period in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

First of all—

Cao Cao, by using Dong Bai, completely enraged Dong Zhuo.

This led Dong Zhuo, in a fit of fury, to dispatch four thousand armored cavalry to hunt them down.

Four thousand cavalry, of which three thousand were Flying Bear riders.

What did that mean?

If unleashed, they could crush half of the warlords in the realm to dust.

Setting aside Gongsun Zan, who alone had three thousand White Horse Volunteers, no one else even had the right to raise their voice before such a force.

And though Dong Zhuo sent out such a formidable army, he still failed to catch Cao Cao.

With wandering knights spreading the news, and the officials in the court fanning the flames, and with travelers passing through Hundred Flowers Pavilion, occasionally hearing the exclusive tales of “Mr. Lucky” from the mouths of the courtesans—

Word of mouth spread, and Cao Cao’s fame swept across the thirteen provinces of Han, reaching every commandery, county, township, village, and pavilion.

Rumors grew ever wilder; now, people said all sorts of things.

Some claimed Cao Cao possessed supernatural powers and had ascended to the heavens, so the Liang cavalry could not find him.

Others said the force pursuing him was not four thousand but forty thousand, and they scoured the capital prefecture eight times without a trace.

Some went further, asserting that Cao Cao only escaped thanks to his son-in-law, Chen Cong, whose valor was unmatched—he and his steed alone cut through three thousand Flying Bear riders.

In summary: The righteous assassin Cao Mengde, loyal to Han, is brave and wise, seemingly possessing immortal arts. His son-in-law Chen Cong is loyal and righteous, unmatched in martial prowess, more than a match for Lü Bu and Hua Xiong.

In front of the farmhouse—

Cao Cao once again heard “Legendary Tales of Cao Cao” from a villager and, well pleased, tossed a few coins before mounting his horse again.

Chen Cong was left speechless.

Pointing to the villagers in the distance, he asked, “So this is the reason, Father-in-law, you won’t return by the river route through Chenggao?”

“I simply dislike traveling by boat,” Cao Cao replied.

“Then can you explain why you rush to greet every passerby?” Chen Cong did not avoid Mi Heng as he spoke.

The Xiliang army had already returned to Luoyang—unless the Flying Bear riders could truly fly, even if word got out, the Liang troops could not catch them now.

Hiding the truth would only alienate Mi Heng.

Mi Heng, for his part, did not seem surprised.

He had guessed Cao Cao’s identity early on, but never pointed it out.

After all, who else but Cao Cao—a man of high ideals, unrestrained and brilliant—could make the proud knight Shi A bow and call him lord? How could an unknown “Mr. Lucky” be worthy of that?

Before Cao Cao could speak, Mi Heng swayed his head and began to show off.

“Not so, not so! Zi Ning, you fail to see the greater plan of our lord...”

Chen Cong, growing angry, snapped, “If you can’t speak properly, then shut your mouth! Who are you calling ignorant?”

“Zi Ning, let me explain it for you,” Mi Heng said, but Chen Cong interrupted him, flicking the hilt of his Tiger Blade until it hummed.

Mi Heng instinctively shrank back.

He’d been struck before, and knew how painful a slap from the flat of that blade could be...

The situation was stronger than the man; there was no shame in yielding.

“I am the ignorant one—do not blame me, Zi Ning,” Mi Heng conceded.

Some people are just gluttons for punishment, always needing to be put in their place, as the saying goes: “Three days without a beating and they’ll tear the roof tiles off.”

“Hmph. Go on,” Chen Cong said.

Mi Heng stopped swaying his head, straightened, and saluted Chen Cong.

He continued: “Consider, Zi Ning: the Liang troops have scoured the capital region, yet our lord parades openly, swaggering back to Qiao County—isn’t that audacity to the extreme? It's no exaggeration to say he treats the traitor Dong Zhuo as less than swine or dog.”

Pfft!—

Chen Cong couldn’t help but laugh.

It was a clever line of reasoning, but—

“Want to bet? I say my father-in-law will tuck his tail and flee at your word.”

Cao Cao was about to rebuke him, but Mi Heng countered first, “How could a free and unrestrained man like our lord ever scurry away like a rat?”

“If I win, you’ll be my scribe,” Chen Cong said, picking his nose.

Mi Heng, growing indignant, shot him a glare. “If you lose, you’ll be my stable hand!”

Well then.

Mi Heng had only a ninety-nine percent chance of losing before; now, with that statement, he was doomed to lose.

“My lord!”

“Er... Zhengping—” Cao Cao, seeing Mi Heng’s passionate gaze, felt a chill down his spine.

Truth be told, he wanted to let Mi Heng teach Chen Cong a lesson.

What nonsense—how could he, the father-in-law, “tuck his tail and run”? Outrageous!

But Cao Cao could not.

After hearing Mi Heng’s “grand theory,” he realized the seriousness of the situation.

Moreover, he could not allow Chen Cong to serve as Mi Heng’s stable hand.

So, bracing himself, Cao Cao said, “On second thought, we should conceal ourselves and quickly leave the capital prefecture.”

“My lord!” Mi Heng cried, pained. “Why? Now that the Liang troops have withdrawn, this is the best time to win fame!”

“Zhengping... I have my reasons. I hope you understand.”

Mi Heng was left speechless—Cao Cao had made himself clear; what more could be said?

Chen Cong looked unsurprised. With his understanding of Cao Cao, he knew the man simply enjoyed hearing strangers praise his abilities.

Losing himself in pride was all too real.

Free and unrestrained? That was merely the persona he put on when he was riding high.

Cao Cao was never truly free and unrestrained.

In fact—

Mi Heng’s words, though meant to flatter, inadvertently conveyed another message: showing too much brilliance.

Everything in excess is as bad as deficiency.

Cao Cao was about to raise his army; trampling on Dong Zhuo’s sore spots once or twice was pushing the limits.

If he kept stepping on Dong Zhuo’s pride, he would be courting death.

Was Cao Cao truly unafraid of Dong Zhuo flipping the table in a rage?

Was he unafraid that Dong Zhuo, risking enemies on all sides, would send troops to Qiao County and exterminate the entire Cao clan?

It wasn’t impossible.

Who was Dong Zhuo?

A ruthless man who had murdered both emperors and empresses—many high officials had perished by his hand.

Dong Zhuo was indeed old, content with pleasure, and had lost the ambition of his youth.

He was unwilling to leave his stronghold in Luoyang.

But that was only unwillingness, not inability.

There was a crucial difference.

If Dong Zhuo truly set his mind to it, with his armored cavalry, he could flatten not just Qiao County but perhaps all of Yanzhou.

If Cao Cao truly had no fear, why hadn’t he gone all the way when he first made his move?

If, back then, he had left Dong Zhuo with the corpse of Dong Bai, the Demon King’s wrath would have exploded—he might have deployed all the Flying Bear riders. The effect would have been even more astonishing, and Cao Cao’s fame would have multiplied tenfold.

Furthermore—

Fame is a double-edged sword.

Assassinating Dong Zhuo and escaping unscathed was an excellent feat, thrilling yet still within the acceptable bounds for the other warlords.

They needed such a banner to rally morale.

But to treat Dong Zhuo as livestock, to dismiss the Xiliang cavalry as nothing?

How would the Yuan brothers of four generations of nobility feel?

What about Gongsun Zan of Beiping?

And Sun Jian, the Tiger of Jiangdong?

If the warlords accepted such a dazzling figure, would they not all become mere foils to Cao Cao?

At present, the proper path was to return quietly to Qiao County and raise troops in response to Yuan Shao.

Such a simple truth—if Chen Cong could see it, how could Cao Cao not?