Chapter 83: The Death of Zhang Jiao

On the other side, Liu Yao was leading three thousand troops from the Vanguard Battalion toward the City Lord’s Mansion. Yet, along the way, he received several reports from his scouts. Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun, aided by the internal support of Cao Cao and Sun Jian, had managed to break into Guangzong City with relative ease. Though their losses were considerable, the fact that they had entered Guangzong was achievement enough.

Meanwhile, the commanders defending the north and west gates had been assassinated by Liu Yao’s covert unit, leaving only those at the south gate, which was guarded by Dong Zhuo, Yuan Shu, and Yuan Shao. Therefore, as soon as Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun entered the city, the leaderless Yellow Turbans quickly surrendered. At this point, Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun left Cao Cao and Sun Jian to pacify the captives, while they themselves led their army toward the last remaining south gate.

Another report arrived: half an hour earlier, Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang, with the four thousand Yellow Turbans still under their command, had escaped toward the south gate.

Upon hearing this, Liu Yao sneered inwardly, “Fengxiao, just as you predicted, Zhang Bao is heading south. The rest is up to you now.”

He ignored Zhang Bao’s flight and continued toward the City Lord’s Mansion. Zhang Bao and his men fleeing south might even teach Yuan Shu and Yuan Shao a lesson—if they fell in the chaos, so much the better. Of course, this was mere wishful thinking. Yuan Shu and Yuan Shao were heirs of the Yuan family; how could Yuan Feng let them go into battle unprotected?

The City Lord’s Mansion was already deserted, not a single soul remaining. Liu Yao immediately sent men to search the premises. He was certain Zhang Jiao had not left; Zhang Bao and the others had fled, but Zhang Jiao’s frail body could never endure such hardship. Liu Yao’s goal was the ten draws owed by Zhang Jiao—a prize too great to let slip.

Soon, a report arrived. “My lord, we’ve found Zhang Jiao in a side chamber. He’s barely alive, immobilized in bed. But…” Shi Ah hesitated.

“But what? Speak plainly,” Liu Yao said casually.

“Zhang Jiao wishes to see you alone,” Shi Ah replied.

Liu Yao frowned, puzzled by Zhang Jiao’s request. Yet, considering Zhang Jiao’s impending death, he could hardly pose a threat. Liu Yao decided to grant the meeting. “Shi Ah, lead the way.”

“Yes, my lord,” Shi Ah responded, guiding him forward. Had he not already checked Zhang Jiao’s condition and found him utterly depleted, he would never have allowed Liu Yao to meet him alone.

Following Shi Ah through several twists and turns, Liu Yao arrived at a small chamber. Shi Ah waited outside while Liu Yao pushed open the door and entered.

Immediately, the thick scent of medicinal herbs filled the air—no doubt the concoctions Zhang Jiao had been drinking. On the bed lay a figure so gaunt he resembled a skeleton. Liu Yao thought, “He really is at death’s door.”

Hearing the footsteps, Zhang Jiao slowly opened his eyes and said weakly, “You’ve finally come, Grand General Who Pacifies the North of Han, Governor of You Province, First Prince Liu Yao.”

“Yes, I’ve come. What do you wish to discuss, Great Teacher of the Yellow Turbans, Celestial General Zhang Jiao?” Liu Yao replied in kind.

“Ah, seeing you so calm here, not pursuing my two brothers, you must have arranged an ambush for them,” Zhang Jiao sighed helplessly.

“You’re right. My men are waiting for them. It won’t be long before they join you,” Liu Yao replied honestly. Zhang Jiao was about to die; there was no need to deceive a dying man.

“Speak your piece quickly. I don’t have much time for idle chatter,” Liu Yao said impatiently, fearful that Zhang Jiao might die suddenly and take the ten draws with him.

“I only wish to ask you one thing,” Zhang Jiao said.

“What is it?”

Suddenly, Zhang Jiao’s clouded eyes flashed with a sharp light, fixing Liu Yao. “May I ask, are you not truly of this world?”

Liu Yao shuddered, his face filled with shock and fear. His soul belonged to a thousand years hence; indeed, he was not of this world. But Liu Yao had never expected Zhang Jiao to know such a thing, and he was momentarily thrown into confusion.

Though Liu Yao said nothing, Zhang Jiao could tell by his expression that his suspicion was correct.

“Hahaha! So it’s true, Teacher, it’s true! The question that troubled me for so long finally has an answer!” Zhang Jiao suddenly laughed wildly.

Liu Yao suppressed his astonishment and looked at Zhang Jiao in confusion.

Zhang Jiao understood Liu Yao’s thoughts and began, “Years ago, when I went into the mountains for herbs, I met my teacher, Immortal Nanhua. He was a man from beyond this world, untouched by worldly affairs. He granted me a scroll of the Taiping Scripture and made me his nominal disciple, then sent me down the mountain. But before I left, he divined my fate.”

“My teacher said that my destiny was to bring chaos to the Han, to bring its utter downfall. But fourteen years ago, that changed. I remained the harbinger of disorder, but the Han would not collapse, because a demon star would descend upon the world. Now, I believe that star is you, Your Highness.”

Liu Yao was stunned. He had never imagined such mystical affairs. Yet, with the existence of the Eight Trigrams passed down from the King Wen of Zhou, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable. Perhaps there truly were extraordinary people in this world, like Yuan Tiangang of the Tang dynasty or Liu Bowen of the Ming, both masters of divination. But immortals? Liu Yao still found that hard to believe.

Liu Yao looked at the now-relieved Zhang Jiao and said coldly, “Is there anything else you wish to say?”

Zhang Jiao closed his eyes. “My wish is fulfilled. Your Highness, do what you must.” Then, as if remembering something, he added, “If possible, please treat the Yellow Turban soldiers kindly. They are poor folk, driven to desperation.”

Liu Yao nodded. “I promise you.” After all, his original plan was to absorb these people.

He drew the Chixiao Sword from his waist. “This is the Chixiao Sword, once wielded by the founder of Han. It won’t disgrace you.” With that, he severed Zhang Jiao’s head. Blood gushed forth.

A voice sounded in Liu Yao’s mind, “Congratulations, host, for completing the task of slaying Zhang Jiao. You have earned ten lottery draws. You now have ten draws in total.”

Liu Yao was overjoyed. He had thought Zhang Jiao’s ten draws were lost forever, yet fate had granted him the opportunity after all.

He glanced at Zhang Jiao’s corpse and shook his head. Zhang Jiao had been a remarkable figure, but Liu Yao could not give him a proper burial—his head must be sent to Luoyang.

“Shi Ah,” Liu Yao called to the guard outside.

“My lord,” Shi Ah replied.

“Preserve Zhang Jiao’s head. When Fengxiao brings back the heads of Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang, send them together to Luoyang for your commendations,” Liu Yao ordered.

“Yes, my lord.” Shi Ah placed Zhang Jiao’s head into the prepared wooden box.

With Zhang Jiao’s matter settled, Liu Yao and Shi Ah left the City Lord’s Mansion. Outside, countless Yellow Turban captives awaited his judgment.