Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The wind on the city wall whipped up snowflakes, like countless fine needles pricking everyone's faces. Cao Cao gazed at the snow stained red with blood, at the Eight Trigrams Formation that had finally been torn open, his throat feeling like it was blocked with a hot lead block—Yan Ming, Murong Lie, Shi Huan, Zhong Jin, Zhong Kun, Che Zhou, Cai Yang, and Cao Chun, Cao Zhen… the names of nine generals swirled on his tongue, especially Cao Chun and Cao Zhen, whose names carried the blood of the Cao family, which stabbed at his heart like knives.

But he was Cao Cao after all, and he forcefully suppressed his surging grief, saying in a hoarse voice, "The formation... is broken."

Yes, the formation has been broken. Fengxiao, with his last breath, did not disappoint him in the end. This strategist, who was more than ten years younger than him, was always like a flame, burning intensely and resolutely, but now that flame went out at its brightest.

"My lord... my lord..." Cao Xiu knelt beside Guo Jia, his fingers trembling as he checked Guo Jia's breath, the skin beneath his fingertips as cold as iron. He suddenly looked up, his voice trembling uncontrollably, "Master Fengxiao... he... he has passed away..."

"Get out!" Cao Cao whirled around and kicked Cao Xiu in the shoulder. Caught off guard, the young imperial general stumbled backward and fell into the snow, splashing up a cloud of cold snowflakes. Cao Cao, his eyes red, pointed at him and roared, "Can't I see? Do you need me to tell you?!"

He staggered forward and rushed over, pulling Guo Jia's cold body tightly into his arms. A faint scent of medicine still lingered in the fox fur, but those eyes, which always gleamed with a cunning light, were now tightly closed, never to open again.

"Fengxiao... Fengxiao..." Cao Cao's voice choked with sobs, like a lost child, "Wake up... Fengxiao... Are you going to leave me?" He raised his hand to stroke Guo Jia's pale cheek, his fingertips touching the undried tear stains, "Cao... I, Cao Cao, am devastated to lose you, as if I have lost an arm!"

The wind and snow intensified, whipping his cries against the city bricks, shattering them into a mournful chorus. "Heavens... do you really want to destroy me, Cao Cao?" He raised his head, letting out a desperate cry like a trapped beast. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his forehead, as if countless needles were piercing him—a headache, occurring without warning at the most excruciating moment.

The snow before his eyes turned blood red, and the wind in his ears became a sharp whistling sound. He loosened his grip on Guo Jia, his body swayed, and he fell heavily backward.

"Lord!"

"Brother!"

The soldiers on the city wall cried out and rushed over, hurriedly supporting his limp body.

Chaos, complete chaos.

The strategist died, the lord fainted, nine generals were lost, and only half of the thirty thousand elite troops remained... The surviving soldiers stood in the wind and snow, looking at the figures embracing on the city wall, looking at the lord lying on the ground, and for a moment they forgot where they were.

Chase? Chase in which direction? Liu Bei's army has long since vanished, and hidden within the remnants of the Eight Trigrams Formation are still unaccounted for. The lord is unconscious, the army is leaderless, and the corpses outside Xuchang have not yet been buried, while crows are already circling overhead.

Cao Ren gritted his teeth and said, "Defend Xuchang! We must wait for our lord to wake up before making any further plans!"

"Quick! Call the physician!" someone roared as they rushed into the camp.

"Protect our lord!"

"Carry Mr. Fengxiao back to the tent..."

In the snow, Cao Xiu struggled to his feet, gazing at the chaotic scene on the city wall. His lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word. The wind whipped up snowflakes, which landed on his face, icy and biting, but the chill in his heart was even greater than the wind and snow.

This broken formation was like a giant hole, swallowing not only Cao Cao's soldiers but also Cao Cao's soul. The banners on the walls of Xuchang fluttered violently in the wind and snow, as if they would be torn to shreds by the boundless grief and chaos at any moment.

The wind and snow could not stop their eager steps to return home. When Zhang Fei and Zhao Yun led their rearguard to catch up with Liu Bei's army, they were still covered in dust and cold, but their faces were filled with undisguised excitement.

"My lord!" Zhang Fei charged ahead of Liu Bei, laughing and bowing. "In that Eight Trigrams Formation, Cao Cao's army was utterly routed! Those dogs Yan Ming and Murong Lie are all dead! Even Cao Chun and Cao Zhen perished inside, while Le Jin and Yu Jin escaped wounded. Haha!"

Zhao Yun added from the side, "Following the strategist's plan, we feigned an attack in the formation for a while, and once Cao Cao's main force was entangled, we withdrew. According to the scouts, Cao Cao fainted on the spot upon hearing that our army had retreated, and Guo Jia... died from vomiting blood."

"What?" Liu Bei reined in his horse, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which then turned into a complex sigh. "Fengxiao's talent, what a pity..."

Pang Tong, who was listening intently, couldn't help but clap his hands and laugh, "Cao Cao has lost nine generals, and even Guo Jia is gone. This time, Xuchang will be paralyzed for at least half a year!" As he spoke, he couldn't help but cover his mouth and chuckle, his eyes full of joy.

Sitting in the carriage, Zhuge Liang nodded slightly upon hearing this, a faint smile appearing on his lips: "My lord, Cao Cao has suffered a great loss of strength after this battle, and he will certainly be unable to pursue us in the short term. We can proceed slowly and there is no need to rush."

The news spread, and a deafening cheer erupted from Liu Bei's army. The soldiers trudged through the snow, their steps lighter, even the cold wind seemed to carry a warmth. From the stalemate outside Xuchang to the unexpected victory with the Eight Trigrams Formation, the battle had been exhilarating. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, their faces beaming with the joy of surviving a calamity.

The mighty army marched towards Xiangyang. Banners fluttered in the wind and snow, and the sound of horses' hooves pounding the frozen earth blended into a triumphant symphony. Passing through Runan Commandery, Liu Bei reined in his horse and paused, gazing upon this strategically important land. He said to Zhao Yun, "Zilong, Runan is the bulwark between Xuchang and Qiao Commandery. A great general is needed to guard this place. I intend to leave you here to reorganize the troops and guard against any unexpected movements by Cao Cao's army. What do you think?"

Zhao Yun cupped his hands and replied, "This subordinate obeys! I will ensure the safety of Runan and guard the rear of the army."

Liu Bei nodded and assigned another 5,000 troops to his command, instructing him, "Be careful in this isolated place. Once the matter of entering Sichuan is settled next year, I will send someone to replace you."

After settling Zhao Yun in, the army continued its southward march. Several days later, Xiangyang City came into view, and the large banner bearing the character "Liu" on the city wall stood out prominently in the wind and snow. The soldiers gazed at the familiar city walls, and cheers rose and fell.

Cao Cao slowly opened his eyes on the bed. The flickering candlelight in the tent made his vision blurry, and his body felt like it was falling apart. Even the slightest movement sent a dull ache through his forehead. Cao Ren, who was guarding the bedside, rushed forward upon seeing him awake: "My lord! You're awake!"

Cao Cao's voice was dry and hoarse, carrying the sluggishness of someone just emerging from a state of confusion: "...How long have you been unconscious?"

"My brother has been unconscious for a day and a night." Cao Ren's voice was low and cautious.

“Fengxiao…” Cao Cao’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he subconsciously uttered the name, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes, as if he were still in the snowstorm on the city wall.

Cao Ren lowered his eyes, his voice hoarse: "Brother, Master Fengxiao... has passed away."

"Cough—" Cao Cao coughed violently, as if an invisible hand was clenching his chest, causing him to curl up in pain. He clutched his chest tightly with one hand and braced himself against the edge of the bed with the other, his knuckles turning white from the effort. The headache and heartache intertwined, almost tearing him apart. After a long while, he finally calmed down, panting, and asked in a hoarse voice, "Has Liu Bei's army...withdrawn? Have they returned to attack the city?"

"Liu Bei's army has already withdrawn, and even left Zhao Yun to guard Runan. It seems they have returned to Xiangyang," Cao Ren replied. "These past two days, the area outside Xuchang has been very quiet, with no disturbances."

Cao Cao stared blankly at the tent canopy above his tent. He had captured Xuchang, but lost Guo Jia, nine generals, and even close relatives like Cao Chun and Cao Zhen... Had he won this battle? His mind was a mess, like a wilderness filled with snow, unable to discern any direction.

Seeing his silence, Cao Ren tentatively asked, "Brother, what should our army do next?"

Cao Cao closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, his eyes revealing a resolute determination: "Xuchang is now in my hands, and it's a good match for Qiao Commandery, as they can help each other. However, Runan is occupied by Liu Bei, Hulao Pass to the west needs to be defended, and Yanzhou to the north belongs to Yuan Shao... This place needs to be guarded by capable people." He paused, his voice carrying an undeniable weariness, "You go and prepare, we will... escort Fengxiao home."

These words seemed to pierce the silence in the tent, finally bringing order to the room. Cao Ren acknowledged and withdrew, leaving only Cao Cao and the flickering candlelight in the tent. He gazed at Guo Jia's memorial tablet beside the bed, the plain white curtains swaying slightly in the wind, much like the plain-colored long robes that the man always loved to wear.

Two days later, Cao Cao's health showed some improvement, and he forced himself to get up and summoned his generals for a meeting. The atmosphere inside the tent was terrifyingly solemn. The surviving generals all wore sorrowful expressions, and although the bloodstains on their armor had been wiped away, they could not hide the weariness and heaviness between their brows.

"Xuchang is a vital location in the Central Plains, and it needs to be guarded by a trustworthy person." Cao Cao sat in the main seat, his voice weak but carrying his usual authority. "Yu Jin, you will guard Xuchang here, with Li Dian as your deputy, to assist you in deploying troops and guarding against any disturbances in Runan and the south."

Yu Jin and Li Dian stepped forward to receive the order, their voices resounding, yet unable to conceal the sorrow in their eyes.

"The rest of you... come with me back to Qiao County." Cao Cao's gaze swept across the tent, finally landing on the row of plain white coffins outside the tent—Guo Jia's coffin was at the front, followed by Yan Ming, Murong Lie, Cao Chun, Cao Zhen... a string of once vibrant names, now all turned into cold wooden boxes.

Three days later, the gates of Xuchang slowly opened, and a silent procession filed out. There were no banners waving, no drums and music, only plain white banners fluttering in the wind. Occasionally, when a coffin passed by, the sound of wheels rolling over the frozen earth was so somber that it tightened one's heart.

Cao Cao sat in a simple carriage, the curtain slightly lifted, revealing the coffin at the front. He remained silent the entire way, not uttering a single word, even his coughs were barely audible, as if afraid of disturbing the sleeping man.

Logically speaking, capturing Xuchang, forcing Lü Bu to flee, defeating Liu Bei, and even breaking the Eight Trigrams Formation that trapped the army should have been a great victory. However, there was no joy of victory in the ranks, only a heavy sorrow, like the accumulated snow along the way, weighing on everyone's hearts.

The carriage rolled over a rut, and with each bump, Cao Cao's head began to throb again. He closed his eyes, but before him flashed Guo Jia's smiling face, Cao Chun's charging figure, and the faces of those who had never returned from within the Eight Trigrams Formation…

"Fengxiao..." he murmured in his heart, tears silently streaming down his face, dripping onto his clothes, only to be frozen by the cold.

The procession carrying the coffin moved slowly across the vast snowfield, like a silent white dragon dragging endless sorrow, heading towards Qiao County. The "Cao" banner still fluttered atop Xuchang City, but the city beneath it was now stained with an indelible layer of blood and desolation.