Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Shamoke's chest rose and fell violently, and the white mist he exhaled condensed into frost flowers between the two of them: "Speak!"

"Even if we mobilize our elite troops and the Shanyue warriors, we'll be nothing but an egg against a rock! Sun Quan has secured his position as the ruler of Jiangdong thanks to his brother's legacy. The four veteran generals command a fierce army, and the private soldiers of the aristocratic families are spread across the prefectures and counties... If we raise an army now, we'll fall right into their trap! We'll be labeled traitors."

The short blade in Shamoke's hand sank deep into the wooden pillar, shaking the snow on the beam and making it fall. "Are you going to let us swallow this?"

"I will abolish the governor's seal!" Zhou Yu suddenly knelt on one knee, and the bronze wristband made a dull sound when it hit the blue bricks. "Using military power as a bargaining chip, I signed an alliance with the veterans, just to protect Bo Fu's bloodline and preserve the foundation of Shanyue!" When he looked up, his eyes burned with cold flames like cold stars. "Secretly contact the Ma family in Xiliang, lie dormant and raise troops, and wait for changes in the world..." He paused and slowly drew his sword. The sword tip lifted the snow in the corner of the wall. "When the time comes, we will not only avenge the blood debt, but also flatten Jiangdong and eradicate these termites!"

Shamoke stared at Zhou Yu's blood-stained face, his heavy breathing gradually turning into deep thought.

Shamoke stared at the cold light dancing in Zhou Yu's eyes, his grip on the knife slowly loosening. After a long silence, he bent down to pick up the silver bell from the ground. His fingertips traced the totem carved by Sally herself on the bell, and a heavy sigh escaped his throat. "Okay, I'll do as you say."

Three days later, a towering white banner was lit on the northern slopes of Lou County. Shamoke, draped in plain linen, his arm bare and scarred by battle wounds, placed Sally's body in a coffin carved from ancient wood. Shamans from the Shanyue tribe danced an ancient funeral dance around the coffin, the sounds of bronze bells and bone flutes echoing through the snowy wind. Zhou Yu led his generals, holding white banners, at the head of the procession. Da Qiao knelt before the coffin, holding Sun Shao. Ma Yue, clutching the straw bracelet left by his mother, quietly placed a red plum blossom on the coffin lid.

After the funeral, Lou County's defenses were worked day and night. Skilled Shanyue craftsmen dug three trenches outside the city walls, setting traps with sharp bamboo spikes and rolled logs. Zhou Yu's soldiers directed civilians to reinforce the city gates and convert abandoned aristocratic mansions into watchtowers. Shamoke personally led his tribe's warriors on patrols through the mountains and forests, familiarizing themselves with every hidden path and extending warning beacons hundreds of miles away.

The deep winter of Jiangdong was drenched in frost and snow. The bitter north wind scraped through the battlements like a thousand steel knives, shredding the battle flags atop the walls into flake-like fragments. Outside the Vermillion Bird Gate, white banners billowed like waves. Twelve-foot-tall spirit-calling banners fluttered in the wind, their dark tassels rippled into tangles, as if Sun Ce's unfulfilled ambitions swirled in mid-air. Sun Quan, clad in three layers of heavy mourning, stood before the mourning hall. The silver patterns on his dark mourning garments rose and fell with his breathing, seemingly overlapping with Sun Ce's blood-stained brocade robes. He gazed at his brother's seat on the altar, his fingertips quietly digging into his palm, wrinkling the imperial edict hidden within his sleeve. The eternal lamp on the sandalwood altar suddenly burst into flames, casting distorted shadows on the cold stone walls.

"My lord, there has been no movement in Lou County so far." Zhang Zhao paused, stroking his beard. His aged voice mingled with the crackling of the charcoal basin. "Zhou Yu and Shamoke have assembled a large force, but have only reinforced the city's defenses..." Before he finished speaking, Zhang Hong had unfolded the yellowed map. The Lou County defense line, marked in cinnabar, looked like a hideous scar in the candlelight.

Sun Quan spun around abruptly, shaking off the dust from the beams. "The end of the year is approaching, we can't wait any longer!" He raised his hand to sweep the offerings off the altar. The sound of shattering ceramic bowls startled the soldiers standing guard in the corridor. "Immediately send swift horses to spread the news of my brother's death throughout the three provinces of Jing, Yang, and Yu. No need to wait for condolences from all quarters—three days later, he will be buried with the rites of a duke!" The candlelight cast a flickering light on his face, and the ambition and sorrow swirling in his eyes threatened to burst.

Three days later, at the hour of Yin, bells and drums rang out throughout the city. A vermilion-lacquered hearse, pulled by thirty-six white horses, rolled over snow-covered bluestone slabs. The wheels, wrapped in cotton wool, still whimpered muffledly. Sun Quan, carrying the coffin, walked, the hem of his mourning robes dragging across the frosted ground. Behind him followed three hundred Jiangdong nobles, clad in mourning. The funeral procession wound its way out of the city, plain-clothed civilians kneeling on both sides of the road. The cold wind whipped paper money into a hazy flutter, creating a hazy, almost snowy scene.

As the nanmu coffin slowly sank into the three-foot-deep grave, Sun Quan suddenly scooped up a handful of frozen earth. The cold dirt dripped through his fingers, and his voice, tinged with sobs, said, "Brother, you conquered Jiangdong through thorns and brambles. Now, I, with my black silk ribbon, my jade scepter, and my red sash, will escort your soul back to heaven!" Before he finished speaking, twelve musicians struck the chimes. Amidst the desolate ancient tune, three hundred elite cavalrymen simultaneously plunged their spears into the ground. The clanging of metal startled the crows from the forest, and their dark plumage obscured half the sky.

As dusk fell, the massive burial mound had grown into a hill. Sun Quan shed his mourning clothes, revealing a purple robe embroidered with golden dragons. Under the setting sun, he raised a bronze seal inscribed with "Marquis of Wu" and declared, "Today I ascend the throne and will carry on my brother's legacy!" His roar startled the guards of the mausoleum into prostration. In the distance, over the Yangtze River, countless sky lanterns rose slowly, transforming into blood-red specks in the wind and snow, as if Sun Ce's lingering spirit gazed upon the land he had watered with his blood.

The mourning hall had been cleared, and Sun Quan had already tucked the bloodstained edict into his sleeve. Turning to Zhang Zhao, he said gravely, "Prepare an urgent convoy eight hundred miles away. Order Zhang Hong to lead his troops north overnight to report my brother's death to the Emperor. Be sure to request that the Marquis of Wu inherit the edict." He raised his hand to stroke the dangling jade beads on his crown, a cold glint in his eyes. "I must ensure this title is legitimate and silence the world's gossip."

Zhang Zhao spread out the map and pointed at Yuzhang County. "Liu Biao has long been eyeing Jiangdong and will surely take advantage of the chaos to strike." Before he could finish his words, a scout's urgent report burst through the door. "Report! Liu Biao's Wen Pin and Cai Mao are leading a large army by land and sea, respectively, and are heading towards Yuzhang and Chaisang!"

Sun Quan pressed down on the table so hard that the bronze candlesticks swayed left and right. "Order Cheng Pu to lead 30,000 elite troops to defend the Chaisang Water Fort, and Huang Gai to hold the Yuzhang Road!" He grabbed the tiger talisman on the table, and the cold light reflected on his stern face. "Also dispatch Lu Meng and Xu Sheng to defend along the river. If they dare to let the Jingzhou army set foot on an inch of Jiangdong land--" His voice stopped abruptly, and the cold wind outside the window blew snow into the house, tearing the second half of his oath into pieces.

On the top of Yuzhang City, Cheng Pu's white hair danced wildly in the wind. He looked at the densely packed tower ships on the opposite bank and sneered: "You little Cai Mao, do you really think the natural barrier of the Yangtze River is just for show?" Behind him, Jiangdong soldiers pushed pottery jars filled with tung oil onto the city wall. The kerosene flowed down the bamboo troughs, forming hideous black lines on the river bank.

Meanwhile, inside Chaisang Water Stronghold, Huang Gai's iron chain was already in place across the river. The veteran general stroked the iron whip at his waist, his eyes scanning the hidden spikes in the frozen surface of the river: "If Wen Pin dares to break through the ice and advance, he will never return!" Suddenly, the sound of war drums thundered from the south bank. The crimson banners of the Jingzhou army pierced the snowy sky, and a bloody storm erupted on the frigid river.

The snow atop Yuzhang City was stirred by the battle flags. Cheng Pu gazed at the forest of Jingzhou banners on the opposite bank, his iron shield creaking under his knuckles. Amid the crackling of floating ice on the river, Wen Pin's army suddenly raised a flag of truce. Dozens of Mengchong warships turned, plowing a winding path through the murky water. The veteran general frowned, looking toward Jianye, muttering, "Liu Biao, that old fox, is really just testing the waters."

Before the chains of the Chaisang Water Fort were tightened, Huang Gai received a secret order from Sun Quan. He rubbed the kerosene in his palm, sneered at the Jingzhou fleet drifting downstream, and said, "I knew that Cai Mao wouldn't dare to fight." The caltrops he had buried in the frozen soil on the shore still shone coldly, now useless.

Inside Xiangyang, Liu Biao leaned against a large tiger-skin chair, listening to scouts report that Jiangdong's defenses were impenetrable. He tapped the jade cup against the table. "Could Zhou Yu and Shamoke truly have let go of their grudge?" He gazed at the newly added defense line in Jiangdong on the map, doubts welling up in his cloudy eyes. "After Sun Ce's death, I had intended to seize Chaisang in the chaos, but I didn't expect these Jiangdong scoundrels to be so united..."

Cai Mao's face flashed with resentment: "My lord, our army has already deployed on the river bank, why don't we..."

"No!" Liu Biao stood up suddenly, causing the bamboo slips on the desk to scatter. "The emperors of Xiliang and Chang'an are now at war, and the situation under heaven is uncertain. If we fight Jiangdong at this moment and both sides suffer losses..." He looked out the window at the falling snow, and his old voice was mixed with coldness. "Let them fight first, and when the time is right, we can reap the benefits." With that, he walked away, leaving the room in silence, with only the occasional sparks from the unburned firewood in the brazier.

On a cold night in Shouchun City, the bronze animal-head lanterns distorted Yuan Yao's shadow across the blue brick wall. He clutched the blood-stained secret report, his nails digging into the parchment as a stifled laugh escaped his throat: "Sun Ce is dead! God help my Yuan family!" The unfinished letter of surrender on the desk was blown by a strong wind, and the three characters "Nephew Yuan Yao" in the still-dry ink flickered in the candlelight.

Yan Xiang slammed his wooden stick on the ground, shaking off the dust accumulated on the beams: "Don't worry, sir! This is a godsend opportunity, but the situation in Jiangdong is treacherous..." Before he finished speaking, Yuan Yao had suddenly torn open his clothes, revealing the red brocade robe underneath. The veins in his neck throbbed with his heavy breathing: "My father died of hatred back then, and now I can finally avenge him!" He grabbed the bronze wine jar on the table and poured the remaining wine out of the window. The wine condensed into tiny ice crystals in the cold night.

"Prepare your horses immediately!" Yuan Yao's crown was askew when he turned around, and there was an almost crazy light in his eyes, "I will go to Jizhou in person to meet my uncle! Tell him--" His laughter mixed with the north wind and shattered on the city wall, "Jiangdong is leaderless, and this is a godsend opportunity for the Yuan family to march south and retake Huainan!" The candlelight suddenly burst into sparks, making his distorted face look hideous and terrifying, as if an evil ghost that had been dormant for many years had finally broken free from its shackles.

The cold wind blew into the conference room. Yan Xiang looked at Yuan Yao's staggering back, sighed inwardly, and rolled up the secret report - the blood stains on the edge of the parchment glowed dark red in the moonlight, which seemed like the Yuan family's unfulfilled obsession.

"Young Master, your hatred has ultimately blinded you." He whispered to the empty hall, his voice shredded by the howling north wind. The unextinguished candlelight on the table flickered, casting his hunched shadow on the old map. The dense red dots at the border of Jizhou and Youzhou represented the camps where Yuan Shao and Gongsun Zan faced off.

Yan Xiang's gaze swept towards Chang'an, where the beacon fires clashed silently with the Xiliang cavalry on the map. Yuan Shao's advisors had already spread rumors that they were going to take advantage of the emperor's visit to the west to completely wipe out Gongsun Zan and annex Youzhou's grasslands and cavalry. In Yuan Shao's eyes, the tiny territory of Huainan was nothing more than a discarded pawn on the edge of the chessboard.

"Even if Yuan Shao got wind of the news..." His fingernails unconsciously scratched the mark of Shouchun. "At this moment, he's only thinking about how to conquer Yijing Tower. How could he split his forces and march south to avenge Yuan Shu?" Yuan Yao's roar urging his horses to prepare could be heard from outside the window. Yan Xiang looked at the snow-covered land of Huainan and could only shake his head and sigh. In this chaotic chess game, so-called hatred is ultimately no match for the balance of interests.