Guan Yu and Xu Shu were unaware of the subtle but dangerous shift taking place in Jiangdong. Even if they had known, they likely would not have cared.
After the fleet skirted past Jiangxia and sailed north into the Han River, Xu Shu followed his original plan and established a supply camp east of Dangyang. It served as a relay point for grain, matériel, and prisoners—and, just as importantly, it kept them as far as possible from Jiangxia's authority.
Contingency plans for a Jiangdong betrayal had always existed. But Xu Shu and Guan Yu both hoped they would never be used.
After all, Han people had already bled enough.
Especially now.
After a battle, Xu Shu would sigh. During a battle, he discarded such thoughts entirely.
From the moment Cao Ren announced his advance, the battlefield around Fan City became a place that devoured blood without pause.
As a member of the Cao clan, Cao Ren knew far more than Yu Jin ever could—
—including the grand strategy of swiftly seizing Xiangyang and Fan City before pivoting west toward Guanzhong, and the uncomfortable truth of dwindling supplies.
Thus, from the very first assault, Cao Ren forced his army to fight at full throttle.
Le Jin, stationed in Xiangyang, observed the ebb and flow of the battle with painful clarity.
He was said to be defending Xiangyang, yet in truth, the veteran Huang Zhong had camped not far outside the city. Every day, Huang Zhong neither shouted challenges nor battered the gates—he simply watched from afar, casually shooting down any scout who dared leave the city.
Over time, even scouts stopped trying.
"We're holding anyway," the soldiers reasoned. "Everything nearby is already visible. What's the point of going farther, just to get shot?"
Eventually, the Xiangyang garrison almost forgot they were under siege at all.
The massive warship had focused its attention entirely on Fan City, sparing Xiangyang not even a glance.
Thus, the previously unmanned northern wall gradually filled with soldiers—not for defense, but entertainment. From there, they could watch ships coming and going, watch the siege of Fan City unfold. It was far more interesting than counting ants inside the city.
Le Jin knew all this perfectly well, yet had no solution.
What he feared most was personally leading a sortie to boost morale—only for Guan Yu's navy to glide south, sever his retreat in the blink of an eye.
So Xiangyang's soldiers watched Fan City with interest, while Le Jin watched Fan City with a heavy heart.
From his vantage point, Cao's army had attempted a three-sided encirclement. But when the eastern force was brushed by the massive warship—its morale shattered by a few casual volleys—the western force collapsed just as quickly.
Thus, the Cao soldiers in Xiangyang could only listen to the thunderous killing cries from afar, imagining the carnage.
"I'll bet a hundred coins Fan City won't fall."
"What use are your five-zhu coins? You can't even spend them."
"I heard money still works under Liu the Imperial Uncle…"
"Oh? Then I'm in—one hundred fifty coins! …General!"
After two rounds of patrols, Le Jin dispersed the gossiping soldiers and stared at the warships between Xiangyang and Fan City.
If only he could lure those ships away—then he could sally forth, behead that old general, unleash thirty thousand troops, take Yicheng, seize Dangyang, descend on Linju, and strike straight into Jing Province's heart. Xiangyang and Fan City would both be saved.
The cries from Fan City remained deafening. Le Jin did not know who commanded Cao's forces below, but he was pessimistic.
Sieges were brutal even under ideal conditions. Now they were forced to attack from a single wall, harried by massive warships. Without a first-ascent general like himself, success bordered on fantasy.
The thought of first ascent stirred old memories—
—six thousand elite veterans lost beneath Jiangling's walls.
Men who had followed him up ladders, men who had charged with him through hell.
All gone.
If those troops were still here, any soldier spreading defeatist talk would be beaten with thirty strokes on the spot.
Inside the central command tent beneath Fan City's walls, Cao Ren studied the map with an expression carved from stone.
Below him, Xu Huang clutched his abdomen, his face pale. Wen Ping's left arm hung in a sling. Neither spoke.
Five days of assault—and Fan City still stood firm.
Xu Huang and Wen Ping had both led charges. Neither achieved decisive results. Both were wounded.
Yu Jin therefore proposed the dullest, safest tactic possible: build earthworks and lock Guan Yu in a stalemate.
The slow method. The reliable method.
But Cao Ren, mindful of supply shortages, withheld judgment and instead turned to a nearby scholar.
"Chief Clerk Kuai—what is your counsel?"
Kuai Yue eyed the massive warship with deep apprehension.
"As long as the navy exists, Fan City cannot be taken," he said slowly. "If Fan City is to fall, the navy must be destroyed first."
Cao Ren rolled his eyes internally.
Yes. Thank you. Truly enlightening.
Yet as Kuai Yue laid out his full plan, Cao Ren's brows knit together.
…It might actually work.
That day, Guan Yu ascended the walls and saw something unusual.
The Cao army was not hurling itself forward in frenzied assaults. Instead, banners were lowered, cooking fires rose lazily—a posture of utter relaxation.
Suspicious.
"After failing to breach the city," Xu Shu said calmly, "they must be seeking a way to counter the navy."
"That is the only explanation," he continued. "Cao Cao commands many naval officers. Finding a solution is not strange."
"And if speed is their goal…"
Xu Shu smiled—an odd, knowing smile.
"…then General Guan may soon meet an old acquaintance."
Guan Yu stroked his beard.
"Then Guan will wait and see."
Le Jin noticed that Fan City's cries of battle had ceased—but the small boats of Guan Yu's forces now moved with increasing frequency.
The Han River between Xiangyang and Fan City was only three hundred zhang wide. From the walls, he could see clearly—
—these boats carried nothing but supplies.
A prolonged defense.
Le Jin scoffed internally. The disparity in numbers was overwhelming. Once spring scarcity passed, the Chancellor could summon a hundred thousand troops and simply starve Fan City to death.
Yet after more than ten quiet days, Le Jin personally witnessed the massive warship withdraw downstream.
The Cao army reacted instantly. Three-sided encirclement reformed. The bloodbath resumed.
Then someone on the Xiangyang wall shouted—
"The water level's dropping! Look at the sandbars to the west—they're rising!"
The Han River had been cut upstream.
The warship was forced back.
Veteran Jing soldiers immediately explained: upstream lay a narrow choke point barely thirty zhang across—perfect for blockage.
Le Jin finally understood why Guan Yu had been stockpiling supplies in Fan City.
He was preparing to die on those walls.
Yet joy surged through Le Jin's chest.
If the navy was neutralized—wasn't this his chance?
Cao Ren cherished this hard-won opportunity. The assault continued without pause, even through the night.
Exhaust the defenders. Deny them rest.
Two more days—and the city would surely fall.
Cao Ren never noticed that Guan Yu had vanished from the battlements.
In his place stood Xu Shu and Zhao Lei, swords waving, voices hoarse as they struggled to maintain order.
The night's chaos robbed Xiangyang of sleep—and masked the sounds twenty li east of Fan City.
Guan Yu stood at the prow of a ship, eyes closed in meditation.
Gan Gui whispered sharply to the crew:
"Hang only the brocade sails! Who told you to hang silver bells at night—afraid we're not visible enough? Take them down!"
Twenty li away, the city roared with slaughter. Gan Gui ignored it all, guiding the ships silently into the Yu River.
These vessels were old mengchong warboats—long, narrow, unmodified. Fit only for transport or boarding actions.
It was enough.
Nearly a hundred warboats, carrying eight thousand soldiers, slid northward under cover of darkness and distant battle cries.
At dawn, the first to spot them were the Newye farming settlers.
"General Guan… should I disembark and—" Gan Gui gestured, suggesting intimidation to delay word spreading.
Guan Yu shook his head.
"Raise the banners."
Gan Gui obeyed.
His ship raised a massive Han-character flag. Every following boat raised two banners—one embroidered with Liu, the other with Guan.
Gan Gui still didn't understand.
But the peasants did.
Faces hardened by wind and hunger slowly lit with emotion. Some began running along the riverbank—too weak to keep up, yet still running.
Their voices drifted across the water:
"Imperial Uncle Liu… General Guan… General Zhang…"
"Can you drive off Cao's thieves?"
Guan Yu turned away, unable—or unwilling—to meet their eyes.
"Years ago," he said softly, "the people of Xinye feared Cao Cao's name and fled south with my elder brother. Passing Xiangyang and Fan City, the people followed—until defeat at Changban scattered them all. Those people were taken back."
Gan Gui understood without further explanation.
Cao Cao had only one method for civilians: forced relocation and state farming.
These settlers were once their people.
Only now did Gan Gui truly understand his lord.
"General Guan," he said firmly, "this time, we will not lose."
Guan Yu shook his head.
"We cannot lose."
When Cao Cao learned Guan Yu had appeared outside Wancheng, he rushed to the walls in disbelief.
How?
How dare he?
The red face and long beard were familiar. The strange blade was not.
All the tangled emotions hardened into fury.
"Guan Yunchang! You abandon Fan City and plunge into danger—do you think my army lacks men?"
Guan Yu did not answer.
He scattered scouts, built camps, and assumed the posture of a siege.
It only enraged Cao Cao further.
Wancheng lacked troops. Apart from Xu Chu's thousand guards and noble retainers, there was nothing to spare.
Better to wait for reinforcements from Ye.
But what was Guan Yu waiting for?
Two days later, Cao Cao found out.
From the southwest came another army, banners rippling with the great character Zhang.
Beneath it, Zhang Fei laughed uproariously.
Before he even arrived, his voice did:
"Second Brother! You really did beat me here!"
On Wancheng's walls, Cao Cao felt something sink deep in his chest.
Something had gone terribly wrong.