Chapter 66: In Desperate Plea for Innocence, Fan Chou Praises Chen Cong to the Skies

On this day, a mixed force set out from Tiger Prison, bringing their own provisions.

A narrow pass blocked their path, and the Western Liang troops remained oblivious, still hastily organizing and preparing for battle.

Another sorrowful soul appeared atop Sishui Gate.

Previously, cavalry did not ascend the ramparts, and the commander was left alone—only Chen Cong remained.

Now, with the rear camp’s miscellaneous troops gone, Cao Ren was a solitary figure as well.

He even began to miss the bustling activity of his brothers, coming and going.

What vexed Cao Ren most was that, with Huang Zhong’s departure, his kinsman Cao Hong had become the most elite commander of the vanguard.

The former tagalong had suddenly risen beyond his reach, showing off his martial prowess right in front of him...

“I’ll say this first: once you join the vanguard, you are no different from the common soldier. Advance at the drum, retreat at the gong. If you falter, I know you, and military law is merciless!”

Cao Ren protested, “Zilian, in a siege, where are the drums and gongs?”

His authority challenged, Cao Hong grew furious and shouted, “I say what I say, you listen as you listen. If you don’t like it, get off the wall!”

“Yes...” Cao Ren replied, only then realizing something was amiss. They had come together, yet only he was being scolded?

He turned to look.

Chen Cong, at some point, had seized Xu Chu’s exclusive spot, standing behind Cao Cao with spear and sword, longbow slung across his shoulder, his armor polished to a gleaming shine—truly commanding!

“Hey? Cousin, don’t leave. Are you joining the vanguard or not?”

“Get lost!”

Why was Chen Cong able to take Xu Chu’s place?

Simply put: beauty... the art of women.

It is said that one is soft-mouthed when fed and short-handed when given. After all, Chen Shi was Chen Cong’s personal soldier—so why wouldn’t swapping him for Xu Chu earn a place as an attendant?

Of course, being an attendant is a craft; not everyone can do it well.

“Order all camps to prepare bows and arrows. At the first sign of the flag moving atop the wall, rotate positions immediately. Two men per battlement shall take turns shooting. Any extra, and the entire battlement will be executed!”

Chen Cong pressed his sword and glared at the messenger, barking, “The orders are given, why haven’t you delivered them? Delay again, and you’ll lose your head!”

The messenger dared not retort, meekly replied “yes,” and hurried off.

He hadn’t meant to delay; who would dare move under the gaze of this fierce spirit? Just now, he’d thought the lord would use him as a sacrifice…

Cao Cao rubbed his temples and advised kindly, “Zining, if you are truly idle, perhaps assist the archers in defending the city. I do not need a bodyguard here.”

“Father-in-law’s safety is paramount; how could a son-in-law shirk his duty?”

Seeing Cao Ren approach, Chen Cong stepped forward, shielding Cao Cao completely.

He cast a sidelong glance at Cao Ren, “What news have you to report?”

“Zining, you come.”

“Though kin, you are of an outer branch. I am prepared as an inner attendant; all discussion is sufficient. What private matters within the chamber?”

Cao Ren was bewildered, not knowing day from night.

How had he become an outsider? What fief? What position?

“Zining, it’s me, Cao Ren!”

Chen Cong made a light sound of surprise, then pushed past Cao Ren to stand atop the battlement, scanning the field—the Liang army’s overseer was not Xu Rong!

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“Tell me, the man with a full beard, fur collar, broad mouth and bulging eyes—who is he?”

Cao Ren thought briefly, “A great general under Dong Zhuo, Fan Chou.”

“Father-in-law, the Liang army has changed commanders; Fan Chou leads the vanguard.”

Cao Cao was startled, hastily climbing the wall.

A commander replaced without fault—his first thought was that Xu Rong had bypassed the pass and was attacking the allied army’s rear.

“Zining, you have keen eyes. Look—are any generals missing by Dong Zhuo’s war chariot?”

After Chen Cong’s careful scrutiny,

Cao Cao was finally convinced he’d been overthinking it, and was overjoyed.

The troublesome Xu Rong hadn’t come; just Fan Chou.

“Order half the troops atop the wall to descend, leaving only one archer per battlement. Bring up the axemen and swordsmen, prepare for close combat!”

“Ah?” Chen Cong hesitated. “Wouldn’t this let the Liang army reach the wall quickly?”

“Hahaha, that is exactly what I want—their men atop the wall. Otherwise, Dong Zhuo would send Xu Rong to oversee the assault, and we’d be in trouble. Zining, are you confident you can repel the attackers?”

Chen Cong slapped his breastplate with a metallic clang, “Father-in-law, rest assured!”

Work hard today, or tomorrow you’ll be working hard to find a job.

A mixed force with three generals—whether five tigers, five sons, or two tiger warriors.

Without effort, even a throne would slip away.

Chen Cong suddenly recalled, “I’m a shareholder!”

But looking at the other shareholder, Cao Ren, who quietly stifled his swelling pride, it was clear: there was still much to strive for!

...

The war drums thundered, and the Liang army launched their assault.

With half the archers gone, the rain of arrows from the wall was halved, and the Liang army quickly raised ladders to scale the ramparts.

“Zining, shoot the battering ram. The gate must not fall!”

“Understood!”

At fifteen paces, the iron-banded bow opened and closed, arrows thundered forth, piercing the ram’s crossbeam and nailing the armored soldiers behind.

He then fired seven arrows from a seven-string bow, killing the seven men pushing the cart.

Any who dared approach were struck down by the flying shafts. Before a master archer, raising a shield was laughable; no single shield could cover a whole body.

Besides, most shields were wooden; even those with iron were only thinly plated. At such close range, they could not withstand the full draw of a three-stone bow.

Compared to Xu Rong, Fan Chou’s tactics were not utterly useless, but lacked any brilliance—worse even than Niu Fu.

Simply patching weak spots, urging slow units, a foolish approach.

He relied on elite troops and brave generals to push forward.

The only merit was sheer momentum.

Xu Rong advanced in waves, never more than a thousand at a time. Fan Chou’s men charged at the drum, never fewer than three thousand per assault; without overwhelming force, it wouldn’t work.

Soon enough,

The Liang troops reached the ramparts, clashing with the allied axemen in a furious melee.

Battle raged for nearly three hours.

Only when the blood-soaked mud stuck to their feet did Fan Chou finally sound the retreat.

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For two days, the same scene repeated.

The Liang army surged like a black tide against the walls; the allied forces fought fiercely, holding firm. The greatest stronghold in the land seemed countless times on the verge of collapse—yet always missed by a hair’s breadth.

However,

Fan Chou’s “heroic” performance won no favor from the Demon King.

On the third day, he was hauled before the command tent for questioning.

Dong Zhuo was still weary, irritated, fed up.

The wind beneath Sishui Gate was biting cold. The dust raised by the army’s charge stung painfully when whipped against the face.

There were no endless songs and dances, no elegant singers, no graceful dancers, no terrified emperor or ministers to torment for amusement, no palace maidens or consorts to take at will.

Meeting Dong Zhuo again, Fan Chou’s heart quaked.

“Fan Chou, I gave you three whole days—this is how you repay me?”

The Demon King’s voice was calm and indifferent, betraying no emotion.

Fan Chou, bound beneath the tent, felt his scalp explode, cold sweat soaking his back.

All who knew Dong Zhuo understood: the calmer he was, the more he suppressed a raging fury.

When it erupted, at best bones would be broken and skin peeled; at worst, the whole family would suffer.

“Grand Preceptor, please allow me to explain!”

Dong Zhuo raised his hand, halting the armored guards on either side. “You’d best say something useful. I do not care for empty words.”

In that perilous instant, Fan Chou’s mind was exceptionally clear. Swallowing hard, he spoke with conviction: “Grand Preceptor, your insight is keen. Failing to take Tiger Prison is not a fault of war, but that the enemy’s general Chen Cong is too valiant. Even with my brave Xiliang warriors risking their lives, we cannot breach the defense. In the past days, we have lost over ten thousand men; nearly half fell to this man’s hand. Unless he is removed, even a god of war reborn could not capture the city.”

Fan Chou, desperate to escape blame, heaped praise on Chen Cong—claiming even that he alone slew five thousand.

Unless Chen Cong flew in midair, how could he claim more than half the kills among ten thousand defenders? It was absurd.

But Dong Zhuo, utterly impatient, heard only the problem and sought a quick solution, without questioning its truth.

No one else dared speak, fearing to attract attention and become the next unlucky soul tasked with taking Sishui Gate in three days.

“Chen the traitor is indeed hateful. My son, Fengxian.”

Lü Bu stepped forward, halberd in hand, and replied loudly, “Your son is here!”

“Go challenge him beneath the wall. I’ll give you five hundred Flying Bear soldiers to back you up. If Chen comes down to fight, unleash a volley of crossbows to wound him.”

Lü Bu snorted coldly. “No need for hidden arrows; I can defeat Chen single-handedly.”

Dong Zhuo waved his hand dismissively.

“Ah, Fengxian, do not be reckless. You heard it yourself—he is vicious and brave, not like ordinary men. How could you alone withstand him? Enough, it is settled. Go now.”

Lü Bu’s eyes reddened with rage, glaring fiercely at Fan Chou.

Had these scoundrels not praised Chen to the skies, how could he become “the greatest under heaven”?

He, the mighty Lü Bu, was expected to use a hidden volley?

But he was eager to avenge himself against Chen Cong, and could not argue at this moment...

How painful!

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