Chapter 68: Chen Cong Accepts the Challenge

“If Yuan Shao orders Zining to descend the city later, do not respond.”

Chen Cong tilted his head slightly and glanced at Cao Cao beside him, “Too little benefit?”

“The dead are to be respected—what benefit is there to discuss? If it were a simple matter to help, I’d do it, but that flying bear guarding the ranks wears a hand crossbow...”

Chen Cong smiled and shook his head, saying no more.

Lu Bu...

Chen Cong believed Lu Bu to be fickle, but he did not believe Lu Bu would betray the honor of warriors and attack by stealth.

Below the city.

Two horses galloped side by side, their riders’ spears and halberds clashing incessantly, the sound of metal ringing in the air. At first glance, the battle seemed evenly matched, and those watching from the city walls applauded their valor.

In truth, maintaining this parity came at wildly unequal costs for the two.

Zhang Fei fought with his life, Lu Bu with cunning.

Zhang Fei could rely on his hot-blooded recklessness, exchanging wounds for victory, attacking without defense—a wild approach that made him a temporary hero. But such prolonged disregard for life, pushing the body beyond its limits, could not last.

No one can continuously and unceasingly ignore the threat of death.

Just as a moment’s impulse cannot last forever.

It is an instinct buried deep in the bones—a biological limit.

There is always a limit to bravery; some can take one strike without fear, but a hundred?

Moreover, physical endurance has its limits. Every body is an untapped treasure, but not an inexhaustible one.

This was the dead-end Huang Zhong never taught: when your opponent is stronger and more skilled than you, there is no point in fighting solo—the best course is to retreat.

As expected.

The war drums thundered. After nearly fifty bouts, Zhang Fei was panting heavily, his strength waning. Lu Bu remained composed, breathing evenly.

He thrust his painting halberd along Zhang Fei’s spear, rotated his wrist half a turn, the side prongs aligned with the ground, easily slipping past the iron spear. With a flick, the halberd’s rear prongs hooked the shaft of Zhang Fei’s weapon. With a powerful pull, Zhang Fei’s spear flew from his grasp, spinning through the air before embedding itself seven inches deep in the wall of Hulao Pass, swaying back and forth.

“Third Brother, don’t panic—I’ll help you!”

Guan Yu charged in, his blade sweeping aside the halberd. His 76-pound refined iron broadsword circled his arm and challenged the halberd head-on, Guan Yu putting all his strength into a fierce strike.

Clang!

The blade struck the halberd with a force that would crack rock and split gold.

Red Hare’s forelegs faltered, almost stumbling; even with Lu Bu’s great strength, his arm tingled with numbness.

As the horses crossed, Lu Bu ignored Zhang Fei retrieving his spear, first raising his halberd high to signal the flying bear behind him not to attack by stealth.

Then he turned his gaze to Guan Yu.

In a low voice he declared, “Red-faced hero, state your name. Under the Painting Halberd, I do not slay the nameless.”

“From Hedong, Xieliang—Guan Yu, styled Yunchang.”

---

“So, how do I compare to Chen Cong?”

Guan Yu glanced at Chen Cong atop the city wall, stroked his long beard, and replied, “Your bearing far surpasses his; as for martial skill, perhaps near equals.”

“Ha! Hahaha!” Lu Bu laughed skyward, only stopping when Zhang Fei returned with his spear and mounted up. He pulled the reins to sit upright, his tiger eyes shining with fierce battle intent. “Good! I respect you as a true man—come, let us fight!”

Guan Yu’s gaze sharpened, he spurred his horse and led with his blade.

Zhang Fei followed, spear in hand.

The three men and their mounts plunged into battle, fighting fiercely in the swirling chaos.

With Guan Yu’s arrival, Lu Bu wielded his painting halberd even faster, slashing and striking left and right, not yielding an inch.

---

On the city wall.

Even the unflappable Cao the Thief was surprised—not by the valor of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, nor Lu Bu’s might.

But...

“Guan Yu spoke of you, and you didn’t retort? That’s not like you.”

Chen Cong smiled, “Father-in-law, your focus seems misplaced. Amidst such fierce combat, you notice only that I didn’t answer?”

Cao Cao’s face froze.

He wanted to observe, but the scene was chaotic; as an outsider, he could barely follow the fight. He wondered how Lu Bu managed to duel two tigers without faltering.

He was starting to doubt his son-in-law’s claim to be the best under heaven—how much was mere boasting?

After all,

Cao Cao hadn’t witnessed Chen Cong’s duel with Lu Bu firsthand; he’d only heard Chen Cong’s own tales.

‘Two hundred wolf riders drove Lu Bu into a panicked retreat.’

‘If not for the wolf riders’ hidden arrows, I would have captured Lu Bu single-handedly.’

But who could say...

At least, Cao Cao didn’t believe Lu Bu could fight through the Sishui Pass without a horse.

Cao Cao had fallen into a mental trap.

Strictly speaking, martial prowess is composed of two parts.

Physical strength determines the upper limit; skill determines the lower.

Chen Cong’s upper limit surpasses Lu Bu’s; his lower limit is beneath Lu Bu’s.

Thus, what Lu Bu can accomplish, Chen Cong may not do as well, but at least he can do it.

But things Chen Cong can do, Lu Bu cannot necessarily match. His body cannot endure—take too many blows, bleed too much, and he will die.

In a blink, the trio battled thirty bouts. Liu Bei, astounded that Guan Yu and Zhang Fei could not defeat Lu Bu, announced himself and joined with twin swords.

Chen Cong witnessed firsthand how a sword master of the late Han fought.

It was nothing like he’d imagined.

Liu Bei swung his two long swords wildly, with no grace of swordsmanship. He neither thrust nor stabbed nor parried; there were no flashy flourishes.

He simply used the swords like blades, hacking and slashing. Each time the treasured swords struck the painting halberd, sparks flew everywhere.

---

Purely from an aesthetic standpoint,

This swordplay was worse than Shi’a’s, even inferior to Chen Cong’s after a few lessons.

At least Chen Cong could manage a flourish...

With Liu Bei in the fray, Lu Bu’s pressure increased dramatically.

His painting halberd moved like lightning, clashing among sword, spear, and broadsword.

His stamina and technique approached perfection.

A trapped tiger still fights, never yielding until death.

Yet the spectacle was short-lived; two fists cannot match four hands, and Lu Bu was now facing more than four.

He had no eyes behind him, relying only on the sound of weapons cutting through air to sense attacks from the rear. For a while, he could focus, but as the fight dragged on, danger mounted.

The four battled another fifteen rounds.

Knowing victory was out of reach, Lu Bu used the momentum of deflecting an attack to whirl his halberd at Liu Bei’s face.

Liu Bei dodged, leaving a gap. Lu Bu seized the chance, spurred Red Hare out of the melee.

After escaping the trio, he stopped Red Hare and exhaled deeply, stubbornly saying, “The horse is exhausted—not that I am defeated.”

Red Hare snorted in protest, as if silently refuting him.

With five hundred flying bears watching closely from behind, Liu, Guan, and Zhang could only halt.

“You treacherous slave, if you have the courage, change horses and fight again!”

Lu Bu glanced at him dismissively, then called to Yuan Shao atop the city wall, “Yuan Benchu, if you still seek your uncle’s head, send someone for an honorable duel. If you try again, do not blame me for disrespecting the dead.”

Yuan Shao, anxious and angry, had no choice but to humble himself and seek Chen Cong’s help.

An honorable duel...

He could think of no one else.

“Zining, if you should prevail...”

Chen Cong smiled faintly and raised his hand to interrupt, “No need to say more, Lord. To use Heaven’s mandate for private affairs is hard to win people’s hearts. You have treated me and my family well; I owe you this favor and will repay it.”

He picked up his spear and mounted the city wall, pointing the tip at the tiger below.

“Lu Bu, leave the Grand Tutor’s head. Tomorrow, at this place and time, let us settle this between us!”

Lu Bu wasted no words, grinning as he beckoned behind him.

He took the head from the flying bear, wrapped it in his cloak, and tossed it to the city wall before leading his troops away without a backward glance.

Chen Cong caught the head and handed it to Yuan Shao, quietly saying, “My condolences,” before returning with his spear.

Yuan Shao stood stunned for a long time.

A gust of wind nearly brought tears to his eyes.

He had never seen this side of Chen Cong and found it hard to adapt.

“Mengde, he...”

“Benchu, do not ask. I know nothing either.”