Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Inside the cowhide tents of the Jizhou camp, bronze lamps flickered in the cold wind. Yuan Shao stroked the jade sword at his waist as he listened to his scouts' report that "Youzhou's defenses were crumbling like rotten wood." His thick brows suddenly knitted into a knot: "Has that old scoundrel Gongsun Bogui truly been frightened? Has the former prestige of the White Horse Volunteers been wasted?"

The staff immediately rushed to offer their opinions like crows leaping for joy. Guo Tu stroked his goatee and smiled obsequiously, saying, "Our lord's divine power is like thunder from heaven. Gongsun Zan is but a withered bone in a tomb. How dare he try to stop a chariot!" Xin Ping also bowed and said, "Exactly! I heard that he has been unable to sleep in Jicheng lately, sighing over the map every day..."

Inside the tent, flattery was clamoring, but Ju Su spoke up, "You all only know that Gongsun Zan fled at the sight of the enemy? Have you ever seen the smoke of war in the north covering the sun? The Wuhuan cavalry surged towards us!" He slammed a scroll of battle reports on the table.

Tian Feng stroked his long beard, staring at the red line on the map where Youzhou and Bingzhou intersected. His voice was as cold as iron: "Gongsun Zan has mobilized his elite troops from the south to march north, even the White Horse Volunteers have come out in full force. Although this man has fought with the lord for many years, he is by no means a coward. He led the White Horse Volunteers to fight the Wuhuan and returned with a great victory. Do you remember?"

Yuan Shao's grip on the gilded wine cup suddenly tightened, and the amber wine rippled in the cup. Guo Tu and Xin Ping looked at each other, their flattering smiles frozen on their faces. Ju Su took a half step forward, his bronze wristband clattering against the table. "My lord, if we take advantage of this opportunity, we may seize Youzhou City, but we may lose the support of the people. The alien race is approaching, and this is the perfect opportunity for you to raise your arms and rally the princes to resist the foreign aggression!"

Guo Tu snapped his folding fan shut, pointed at the cities of Youzhou on the map, and sneered, "You two always use foreign tribes to bully others. Could it be that even if our lord takes Youzhou, he won't be able to defend the border? Back then, our lord defeated the Western Liang cavalry at Hulao Pass, and he was much more glorious than Gongsun Zan!" Xin Ping sneered, the white jade hairpin on his official hat glaring: "In the final analysis, it's just an excuse for the defeated general. If Gongsun Zan was really capable, why would he give up his home base?"

Ju Su's vein-riddled hands clutched his belt tightly, while Tian Feng's beard quivered with rage. Yuan Shao stroked the bronze tiger talisman on his desk, feeling the cold seal weigh three times heavier than usual. Guo Tu's words were like hot oil pouring down his heart, reminding him of the majesty of the eighteen warlords at Hulao Pass. But Tian Feng's reference to "historical condemnation" was like a hammer, sending throbbing pains through his temples. A chill wind blew in from outside, bringing with it a fine snowfall, flickering the candlelight on his desk and causing his complexion to flicker.

Suddenly, there was the sound of armor clashing outside the tent, and the guards announced loudly: "The envoy Gongsun Zan requests an audience!" Yuan Shao stood up suddenly, and the tiger-skin cushion fell to the ground with a thud. He stared at the cold light filtering through the gap in the tent curtain, and an unfathomable smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "You've come just in time. Let's see what tricks this old man has to play."

Guo Tu tapped his folding fan on his palm, a cunning glint in his eyes: "My lord, Gongsun Zan must have sent an envoy here at this moment to beg for surrender at the end of his rope!" He stepped forward and lowered his voice: "You can line up three layers of armored soldiers outside the gate, with swords and spears like a forest, and flags blocking the sun. Then have the drummers beat the war drums fiercely - when the envoy enters the door, first scare him to death with the swords and sabers, and he will naturally speak in a lower voice!"

Yuan Shao stroked his beard and pondered. The sound of the wind and snow outside the tent seemed to transform into the shouts of the soldiers. Xin Ping immediately agreed: "This plan is brilliant! Back then, King Zhuang of Chu deployed his troops on the outskirts of Zhou, precisely because of his military intimidation of the emperor's envoys, that he gained the prestige of 'striving for the throne of the Central Plains'!" He pointed to the large banner with the word "Yuan" fluttering outside the tent. "If my lord can subdue the envoys with the force of thunder, not only will you crush Gongsun Zan's spirit, but you will also teach the soldiers of Hebei who is the true overlord of the Central Plains!"

Ju Su suddenly stepped forward, the iron sword sheath hitting the blue bricks with a dull sound: "My lord! If we use military force to force the emperor, won't it confirm the bad reputation of 'bullying the weak with the strong'? If Gongsun Zan is really here to fight against the alien race, won't our army's behavior push all the righteous people in the world to the opposite side?" Tian Feng also stroked his long beard and sighed: "Warfare is a trick, but we must also hold the word 'righteousness'. If we only show off our power for a while and lose the people's hearts, I'm afraid the gain will outweigh the loss..."

Yuan Shao certainly wasn't listening. With a wave of his hand, the clang of armor suddenly resounded within the tent. Outside the gate, three hundred elite soldiers stood like two iron walls, their dark banners rustling in the fierce wind. Sharp spears pointed obliquely at the sky, their cold light interweaving into an impenetrable dome of death. Drummers gathered their power, the cowhide covering their drums taut as thunder.

As Fan Fang entered the camp, holding his staff, the drums suddenly exploded, their clashing roars ringing in his ears. The soldiers roared in unison, their blades clashing, sparks flying, and iron shavings scattering across his frosted cloak. His grip on the staff tightened slightly, but he straightened his back. The yak tail tassel on his bamboo staff fluttered in the blood-red sunset as he stepped through the sea of ​​sharp swords.

Yuan Shao, perched high on the general's platform, watched Fan Fang steadily advance despite the pressure of the armored soldiers. He stroked the jade sword at his waist, suddenly recalling the glorious victory of Gongsun Zan when he single-handedly defeated the enemy. But Guo Tu's advice from the previous day to "use force to suppress others" was still ringing in his ears. He sneered and waved his sleeves fiercely: "Let this defeated envoy kneel before me!"

The moment Fan Fang stepped through the gate, the roar of three hundred armored soldiers shook the frozen earth. The interlaced spears resembled a forest, shattering the sky into tiny shards of silver light. He suddenly raised his nine-sectioned banner overhead. The yak tail tassels on the bamboo staff rustled and fluttered like a battle flag in the bloody sunset. "Yuan Benchu! Are you displaying your might to scare off the Hu cavalry, or to humiliate the envoy?"

The drumbeats abruptly stopped, and the soldiers' gazes fell on the figure standing against the wind. Fan Fang stepped over the cold ground, his dark brocade robe lifted by the north wind, revealing the half-worn bronze sword at his waist - the one he wore when he accompanied Gongsun Zan in defeating the Wuhuan. "The Wuhuan cavalry has entered Youzhou, the Xiongnu have slaughtered Yanmen, and the Jie people have burned and looted Xihe!" His voice pierced the dead silence, startling the crows on the city walls. "General Gongsun has transferred all the elite troops from the southern front to the north, building the Great Wall with their flesh and blood! General Yuan, with your four generations of nobles, do you dare to bear the infamy of 'sitting by and watching the national crisis'?"

Yuan Shao's grip on the gilded table suddenly tightened, the jade tassels clattering against each other. Fan Fang stood unmoved facing the platform, his powerful voice booming like thunder: "I come here today with my imperial seal, not to beg for peace! If the general is willing to raise the banner of justice and jointly resist foreign aggression, the people of Hebei may be spared from suffering. If you insist on taking advantage of the situation... the world will see clearly who is the hero vying for supremacy in the Central Plains and who is the treacherous villain who has no regard for the people!"

Fan Fang suddenly drew his sword, placed it across his neck, and said, "Two armies are at war, and I am an envoy. With the general's demeanor, I, Fan Fang, would rather die than be humiliated!"

The moment Fan Fang's sword was pressed against his throat, Yuan Shao suddenly stood up and said, "Wait a minute!" He stepped down from the platform in two steps, and the corner of his robe swept the bamboo slips on the table. "Envoy, please do not act rashly!"

As the command flag waved, the soldiers sheathed their swords and withdrew, and a corridor formed by the sharp sword light suddenly opened up. Yuan Shao flicked his sleeve to dispel the still vibrating drums and personally adjusted his hat and belt: "You are indeed a man of steel. Please come into the tent and have a chat!"

Fan Fang sneered, his wrist flicked, and the sword scabbed back into its sheath with a resonant sound like a dragon's roar. He brushed the snow off his cloak, held his banner high, and strode forward, his dark brocade robe rustling in the wind, his every step shaking the bricks. As he stepped through the tent gate, a chill wind whipped the curtains around, seemingly suppressing the momentum of the entire Jizhou camp.

Yuan Shao leaned back in his chair, tapping the armrests with his fingertips, making a rhythmic sound: "I heard that the Youzhou defense line collapsed without a fight. What is Gongsun Bogui up to?" Before he finished speaking, Guo Tu sneered: "It's just that he's at the end of his rope and wants to use the Hu cavalry as an excuse!"

Fan Fang ripped open his cloak, revealing the bloodstained chain mail underneath. His scarred neck gleamed coldly in the candlelight. "If General Yuan thinks the White Horse Volunteers are vulnerable, just ask those Jizhou warriors who were defeated at the Yishui River!" His gaze swept across Guo Tu like a sharp blade. "Why is the defense line empty? It's because the two Wuhuan cavalrymen are approaching from Bailang Mountain. My lord personally led the elite troops north and swore an oath on his sword before leaving: Conflict among princes is a family affair, but invasion by foreign races is a national vengeance!"

Guo Tu was about to retort when Fan Fang threw the frost-stained battle report on the table: "This is the battle report from a few days ago. The Wu are still coming in full force. My lord ordered General Tian Kai, the southern defense line, to evacuate 30,000 elite troops to the north to fight against the Hu. If it weren't for our army's full-scale resistance against the Wuhuan, how could you sit here and reap the benefits!" He suddenly laughed up to the sky, his voice shaking the roof of the tent, "Mr. Guo, you say we are here to surrender? Ridiculous! Ridiculous! If my lord wanted to surrender, why would he fight so hard that all the soldiers in the city would be stained with blood on the battlefield? It's just that since we are both Han ministers, I want to give General Yuan a chance to jointly resist foreign aggression and leave our name in history!"

Xin Ping stroked the jade belt around his waist and laughed so hard that he fell back and forth, shaking the ivory tablet in his hand. "Mr. Fan is so arrogant! Youzhou lost Guangyang County, and our army was about to attack the city. Now there are only remnants of soldiers and defeated generals left, and you still want to teach my lord how to fight?" He glanced at Fan Fang's blood-stained armor, "My lord sits on the rich land of Jizhou, has a million soldiers and thousands of skilled generals. Even if he took over the entire Youzhou, it would be a piece of cake for him to wipe out the Wuhuan!"

Fan Fang suddenly took a step forward, slamming his bronze wristband against the table, sending the wine splattering from the cup. "Mr. Xin, are you aware that the Wuhuan, Xiongnu, and Xianbei have formed an alliance?" He unfolded a blood-soaked map, his knuckles tracing the dense markings at the foot of the Yin Mountains. "They're heading south this time to emulate Tan Shihuai and turn Han territory into pastures! Do you think you can rest easy just because you've taken Youzhou City? Xiliang and Bingzhou are also embroiled in war!"

Fan Fang suddenly unfolded the blood-stained map and rapped his knuckles against the Bingzhou map. "General Yuan and my lord have been battling for supremacy in Youzhou for months. Have you ever heard that Bingzhou has become a living hell? The Xiongnu leader Huochuquan slaughtered Yanmen, the Jie people threw Han women into oil pots in Xihe, and that Lü Fengxian, who started from Bingzhou—" He sneered, "He commanded valiant cavalry, but he ignored the people of his homeland and led his wolf-like troops south to plunder!"

Xin Ping's folding fan snapped shut, and he was about to retort when Fan Fang threw the frost-stained secret report on the table: "Xiliang Ma Mengqi has led 100,000 cavalrymen north out of Xiaoguan, and my lord is willing to give up Youzhou!" His voice suddenly rose, making the copper lamps on the top of the tent buzz. "The disputes among the princes are family affairs, and the invasion of foreign races is a national hatred! My lord is willing to give up Youzhou in exchange for General Yuan to jointly guard the gates of China! If you insist on taking advantage of the situation..."

Inside the tent, the clashing of armor plates rippled like the surging tide. The Hebei generals gazed at the startling blood-red marking of Bingzhou on the map, their grips on their swords gradually tightening. As Fan Fang sheathed his sword, his gaze swept across Yuan Shao's surging face: "When the foreigners raise their butcher knives towards the Central Plains, the world will see clearly—who is fighting for territory when the country is in crisis and the people are suffering, and whose warhorse is crushing the skulls of the barbarians!"