Chapter 57: Testing the Blade, Capturing Hua Xiong
Blood paved a path through the battlefield, and atop his horse, Chen Cong galloped freely, reaping military merit without restraint.
Closer, closer, ever closer.
The cavalry of Liang surged forward, but could not halt the charge of Absolute Shadow. Hua Xiong, terrified to the point his soul nearly fled, turned his horse and desperately struck its belly to urge it onward.
A general is the heart of his troops. When the commander flees, cavalry cannot form ranks; those who charge do so with clenched teeth, eyes shut tight, their hearts pounding with fear, while those who flee scatter in all directions, running for their lives.
Occasionally, arrows were loosed in stealthy ambush, but when they struck Chen Cong’s heavy armor, they merely left pale scratches.
The pounding hooves sounded like the call of doom, echoing in the ears and weighing on the heart.
Hua Xiong dared not look back, fleeing desperately. Yet an ordinary blood-sweating horse could never outrun Absolute Shadow; they were simply not of the same breed.
Cold light flashed.
The tip of the Winged Tiger Spear caught Hua Xiong’s cloak, twisting it up, then thrust through under his arm, easily piercing the heart-protecting bronze mirror on his chest.
Chen Cong yanked the spear, dragging Hua Xiong from his horse, then let him hang from the weapon as he rode on.
The blood-sweating horse felt its rider lighten and bolted away, galloping freely.
“Mmm, mmm mmm mmm!”
As he rode toward the rear ranks, Chen Cong suddenly spotted a figure, mouth stuffed with a rag.
He reined in Absolute Shadow and looked closer; it was Pan Wushuang, the battle god of the forum, who had glared at him just moments before….
Wasn’t it said that Pan Wushuang had been poisoned by Yuan Shao’s wine, and thus lost to Hua Xiong? Yet he didn’t seem poisoned now—if anything, he wriggled with surprising energy.
“Mmm mmm, mmm mmm mmm.”
Chen Cong dug at his ear. “What are you saying?”
Pan Feng squirmed furiously. “Mmm mmm, mmm mmm mmm.”
“Stupid dog, get lost!” Chen Cong roared, “Goodness, you dare curse at me while on horseback?”
“Mmm?” Pan Feng felt a chill down his back and squirmed even more violently. “Mmm mmm, mmm mmm mmm.”
Chen Cong ignored him, instead leaning over to grab a discarded cavalry spear and, with a toss, knocked someone from horseback by catching their cloak.
That man was already frightened out of his wits; he scrambled up and kowtowed desperately. “Spare me, General! I surrender, I surrender!”
“Surrender? Did your mother never teach you not to litter? Whose fault is it if the environment is polluted?”
“Huh?”
“Huh what?” Chen Cong gestured toward Pan Feng. “Pick it up, and don’t let it happen again!”
Pan Feng’s eyes bulged, his body writhing madly, whimpering, “Mmm mmm mmm! Mmm mmm mmm…”
The man glanced nervously at Chen Cong, then at Hua Xiong, dragged along by the spear.
He clenched his teeth and stomped his foot.
He found an unclaimed warhorse and tossed Pan Feng onto it, mounting another himself.
He bowed. “General, I shall never forget your mercy in sparing me.”
With those words, off he rode.
Chen Cong watched the two ride away and laughed.
“I truly am a magnanimous, environmentally conscious good person. Fat Dong ought to award me the Three Virtue Citizen’s Medal of Sili Province.”
Hua Xiong groaned, spitting blood, listlessly muttering, “He’s right, Chen Cong, save me. Later he said Chen Zining, I was wrong.”
“Bah! Cunning villain, don’t try to trick me!”
Hua Xiong was instantly silenced.
...
Mighty!~
Mighty!~
Mighty!~
Chen Cong rode his horse at a leisurely pace, savoring the first highlight of his life.
Two soldiers raised their voices in praise, as fervently as pilgrims in later times.
Hua Xiong had truly lain flat.
In the physical sense—dragged along the ground by Chen Cong, like a dead dog, bearing witness to another’s glory.
He could not understand: he had already said he would not run, so why was he treated thus? Did this man not know that a warrior can be killed, but not humiliated?
If he had the chance to do it all again, he would rather never have left Sishui Pass….
In the coalition’s tent, Yuan Shao arranged a banquet.
As soon as Chen Cong entered, a horde of people swarmed around him: some praised, some offered daughters, some inquired after his health, some winked and invited him to drink.
No warlord was a fool. They feared Chen Cong’s valor; the best way to deal with him was not suppression, but alliance and friendship.
Whether it would succeed was another matter.
Their enthusiasm was on full display—at least they wouldn’t strike a smiling face.
“Zining, why did you not save Pan Feng?” Han Fu spoke, and the others immediately distanced themselves from him.
So he didn’t save him—why make a fuss now? Wasn’t this courting resentment?
From the moment he spoke, Han Fu regretted it.
For the sake of a subordinate, Pan Feng, who had been captured by Hua Xiong after three bouts, he risked offending Chen Cong, who had captured Hua Xiong in the chaos—hardly worth it.
But Pan Feng was his general, who had followed him all the way, if not meritorious then certainly diligent.
Moreover, he had seen everything from the ramparts.
The Liang cavalry had been scattered; Pan Feng was right there. Chen Cong needed only to untie his bonds and Pan Feng would have returned.
Even if Chen Cong did nothing, the coalition soldiers could rescue him once the Liang forces collapsed.
Who would have thought—
Chen Cong had deliberately intercepted the Liang men carrying off Pan Feng. Such behavior was somewhat humiliating!
Chen Cong responded earnestly, “He cursed me.”
Han Fu, annoyed, pressed harder. “His hands and feet were bound, his mouth stuffed. How could he curse you?”
“He didn’t curse with his mouth, but with his eyes.”
Han Fu felt his intelligence insulted and shouted, “How does one curse with their eyes!”
Chen Cong was still thinking how to argue, when Yuan Shu beside him grew impatient.
He snapped, “Han Wenjie, what’s your point? Pan Feng’s valor is no less than Zining’s, but he was captured because he sided with Dong Zhuo and willingly became a prisoner. Zining let him go to fulfill his wishes. Why must you meddle?”
“You!”
Though the warlords were temporarily reconciled, Yuan Shu was arrogant by habit. He slapped Han Fu’s hand away and barked at his attendants, “The coalition has triumphed! Go take the rations from Han’s troops and reward the army. Tell everyone: Shu is pleased today! Eat your fill—those who don’t will face military law!”
“Yes, sir!”
Having lost his general and now his provisions, Han Fu was both angry and frustrated, fainting dead away.
“Well done, Yuan Sweetwater. Seems you’re quite the eloquent one,” Chen Cong praised sincerely, giving a thumbs-up.
“What Sweetwater? Call me father-in-law.”
“Father-in-law my foot! The marriage isn’t even on the horizon yet. All of you want to marry off your daughters—send their portraits and let me choose first.”
“Hey!”
Yuan Shu was about to retort, but upon meeting Chen Cong’s proud back, he could only swallow his anger.
After dealing with the old foxes, Chen Cong proceeded to the center of the tent, dropped Hua Xiong before Yuan Shao, and bowed, “The alliance leader’s command was skillful. I am fortunate not to disgrace the task.”
“Zining, your valor is extraordinary!”
Yuan Shao praised sincerely, clasping his hands to the heavens and declaring, “Let the world bear witness! In honor of the kings of old, I commend Cao Cao of Qiao County, who braved danger to stab Dong Zhuo and has rendered great service to the realm, thus is granted the title General of Martial Valor. His son-in-law, Chen Cong, who captured the enemy commander and slew more than a hundred foes on the field, is awarded the title Lord of Sishui Pavilion.”
The General of Martial Valor was a mere titular rank, with limited authority, yet in the still-intact system of military ranks, it carried some weight. At this time, most commanders were only captains.
Sishui Pavilion belonged to Sili Province—Dong Zhuo’s domain—so Yuan Shao bestowed it as a token, with no burden.
Cao Cao and Chen Cong received their titles together.