Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Arrival of Cao Cao

Zhao Yun’s martial prowess was leagues beyond Bo Cai’s, and now, with Bo Cai consumed by rage, his moves were completely disordered. It took only a single exchange for Zhao Yun to unseat him from his horse. Bo Cai was swiftly bound and trussed up.

“Haha! Zilong, we’ve always known Bo Cai wasn’t much of a fighter, but I didn’t expect him to be this pathetic. You took him down in one move!” Zhang Fei rode up, laughing heartily as he spoke.

“This time, I have you to thank for yielding the opportunity to me, Yide,” Zhao Yun said gratefully.

“No need! We’re all on the same side. Old Zhang’s not one to hog glory for himself. When there’s merit to be shared, we all take a piece,” Zhang Fei replied with his characteristic frankness.

Meanwhile, Bo Cai, now bound, stared at the two with venomous hatred, shouting, “You two fools, let me go at once! When the Great Virtuous Teacher rules the world, that’ll be the day you both lose your heads!”

“Hmph!” Zhang Fei snorted, stepped up to Bo Cai, and slapped him hard across the face. Blood spattered from Bo Cai’s mouth, but Zhang Fei didn’t stop. With every curse he uttered, he landed another blow. “You mangy cur! Still so arrogant after being captured? I’ve never liked the look of you. If you weren’t worth more alive than dead, Old Zhang would have poked a few holes in you already.”

After a series of heavy slaps, Zhang Fei finally felt appeased and stepped back. Bo Cai’s face was now swollen and bloodied, his lips spewing blood and a few teeth mixed in. Zhang Fei’s strength had knocked out his front teeth.

“Thah shee-ong will not forgiv you,” Bo Cai mumbled through broken teeth, his words barely intelligible.

“What are you babbling about?” Zhang Fei frowned, unable to make sense of Bo Cai’s speech. Waving his hand in disgust, he ordered, “Enough! Someone gag this fellow, I don’t want to hear another word from him.”

Two soldiers promptly stuffed a gag into Bo Cai’s mouth.

“Bring Bo Cai and the other captives—we return to camp!” Zhao Yun commanded. The group, laden with prisoners, made for the city of Changshe in triumph.

By now, the second day’s noon had arrived in Changshe. The forces led by Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun had already returned earlier, as had the Vanguard led by Gao Shun and Huang Zhong, who’d arrived over an hour ago. Only the assault detachment led by Zhang Fei and Zhao Yun had yet to return.

Standing atop the city wall, Liu Yao gazed into the distance, but his heart harbored no worry. With the martial skills of Zhang Fei and Zhao Yun, and the might of their detachment, even facing a force of a hundred thousand Yellow Turbans, they would surely emerge unscathed.

Sure enough, before long, the figures of both men and their well-trained troops appeared in Liu Yao’s sight. Who else could it be but Zhang Fei and his men?

“Open the gates at once!” Liu Yao called out eagerly.

Before long, Zhang Fei and the others entered the city and ascended the wall.

“Your Highness, we, with our troops, stormed the Yellow Turban camp and cut down over five thousand enemies, capturing more than fifty-three thousand alive,” Huangfu Song was first to report.

Liu Yao nodded in acknowledgment, then turned to Zhang Fei and the other officers.

“Reporting, my lord, I led the Vanguard in an ambush on the road to Runan and captured over twenty thousand enemy troops, including the Yellow Turban chief, Peng Tuo,” Gao Shun reported.

“My lord,” Zhang Fei chimed in, “though Old Zhang only captured fewer than five thousand, Zilong here managed to seize Bo Cai himself!”

Liu Yao smiled, clearly pleased with the results. Aside from nearly a thousand casualties among the troops of Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun, there were no losses among Liu Yao’s own soldiers—only a few minor injuries. Moreover, they’d taken nearly eighty thousand Yellow Turban prisoners, and, most importantly, both Bo Cai and Peng Tuo, the two prominent eastern leaders of the Yellow Turbans, had been captured.

“Where are Bo Cai and the eighty thousand Yellow Turban prisoners now?” Liu Yao inquired.

“Your lordship, Bo Cai and all the prisoners have been secured in the military camp at Changshe,” Huangfu Song replied.

Before Liu Yao could speak again, Zhu Jun interjected, “May I ask, Your Highness, how do you wish to deal with these captives?” Zhu Jun was already eyeing the prisoners. This battle had cost many lives, but among the Yellow Turbans were many young and able-bodied men who could be trained and put to use. Though the prisoners were taken by his own force, it was all thanks to Liu Yao’s strategy, so he dared not ask openly for the spoils.

Liu Yao knew exactly what he meant. Casually, he responded, “You two generals have suffered considerable losses. Why not select twenty thousand of the fittest from these captives to replenish your ranks? As for the remainder, I ask you to make arrangements to send them to Youzhou. My province is in need of people, and these Yellow Turbans will be a welcome addition.”

“Thank you, Your Highness!” the two replied excitedly. Split evenly, each would receive ten thousand strong new recruits—almost restoring their forces to full strength and giving them another chance at merit. As for transporting prisoners to Youzhou, nothing could be simpler; a few men could manage it. Under Liu Yao’s governance, Youzhou was no worse off than the central provinces, and these captives would have little to complain about.

“As for Bo Cai and Peng Tuo, Shi A, execute them and send their heads to Luoyang to claim your reward,” Liu Yao ordered offhandedly.

“At your command,” Shi A answered.

“Enough—Yuanhao, the victory feast has been prepared for you all. Tonight, drink your fill!” Liu Yao declared with a smile.

At the mention of wine, Zhang Fei’s eyes widened, but then he remembered his own prohibition and his spirits dimmed.

Noticing his expression, Liu Yao couldn’t help but laugh, “Never mind, today is a day of great joy. For this occasion, you’re allowed to drink.”

“Thank you, my lord!” Zhang Fei replied, overjoyed.

The group then proceeded into the grand hall to begin the celebration. But before the festivities could start, a messenger rushed in and addressed Huangfu Song, “General, Cavalry Commandant Cao Cao has arrived with reinforcements!”

At the mention of Cao Cao, Liu Yao’s heart skipped a beat, a flash of murderous intent darting through his eyes. He knew all too well that Cao Cao would one day become his greatest rival on the path to supremacy. However, now was not the time to kill him. One of his greatest advantages was his knowledge of history—if Cao Cao were to die prematurely, who knew what even greater threats might arise in his stead? The central plains brimmed with talent; such things were not impossible.

“Hmph, Cao Cao arrives only after the battle is over. What good is his coming now?” Zhu Jun grumbled in displeasure.

“Ah, but General Zhu, that’s not quite fair. Mengde has come from afar to aid us, and though he arrived too late to help, he is still an ally. We should at least invite him in for a drink. Otherwise, we’ll be accused of poor hospitality.”

“You are right, Your Highness,” Zhu Jun nodded. Turning to the messenger, he said, “Go at once and invite Mengde in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Soon, a short, dark-complexioned man with a full beard entered, saluting Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun. “Your subordinate, Cavalry Commandant Cao Cao, pays respects to the Generals.”

He glanced at Liu Yao with a hint of uncertainty, and suddenly a familiar figure emerged in his memory. At once, he knelt and bowed. “Cao Cao humbly greets the First Prince!”

“Rise,” Liu Yao said, waving his hand. “Mengde, you’ve come at just the right time. We have just pacified the Yellow Turbans of Yingchuan and are about to celebrate our victory. Will you join us for a drink?”