In his dream, the Chancellor returned once more to that night at Wan City.
The first half of the night had been thick with indulgence. Enemies subdued, the widowed lady compliant, everything within his grasp.
The second half had been fire and chaos. His eldest son covering the rear, loyal retainers dying in desperate battle as he fled in disgrace.
This dream was not unfamiliar to him. After parting from Lady Ding, he had seen it before.
Back then, in the dream, Zixiu had given up his horse so his father could escape, staying behind to lead infantry against the pursuers. Bathed in blood, the boy had looked at him and asked only one question.
"Where is my mother?"
Cao Cao had been unable to answer.
He woke in terror.
Now he stood in that same dream again, reliving everything with painful clarity.
Dian Wei blocking the camp gate with his own body.
Cao Ang fighting on foot to hold off Zhang Xiu, dying soaked in blood.
Cao Anmin lost in the chaos, his body never found.
And Jueying, the beloved horse that carried Cao Cao to safety for a distance before falling to stray arrows.
Yet this time, as the nightmare replayed, Cao Cao's gaze settled on someone he had never paid attention to before.
Cao Pi, Cao Zihuan.
At six he had learned archery. At eight he rode horses. By ten he was already accompanying his father on campaigns north and south, only for his first real campaign to end in the disaster at Wan.
The boy had been badly shaken. After that, he never spoke of warfare again. He devoted himself entirely to study. The swordsmanship he had trained in childhood became little more than play with sugarcane stalks. His archery turned into conversation pieces instead of skill.
Cao Cao had once thought that was not such a bad thing.
Wan City had filled him with regret for years. Victory and defeat on the battlefield turned in an instant. If Cao Pi and Cao Zhi had also been lost, what would all this vast enterprise have been for?
But now the same regret returned.
The great undertaking was unfinished. How could he have allowed Cao Pi and Cao Zhi to grow skilled only in letters, ignorant of war?
A great fortress had stood before him, yet after being refused entry, Cao Pi had not even dared attempt a desperate fight. Instead he wanted to lead troops into Yu Province and settle everything in a single gamble beside his father.
Just earlier today, Cao Cao had still been thinking that if the war turned badly, he could retreat step by step into Hebei, rely on the Yellow River's natural defenses, hold the Emperor there, and resist Liu Bei.
In the dream, he watched Wan City burn in the distance and sighed again and again.
Then, before his eyes, a troop of armored riders came galloping through the air, blood aura swirling around them like spirits of war. At their head rode a general with flowing beard, crescent blade raised high, cold light flashing.
"Cao thief, do not flee!"
Cao Cao shot upright in bed. Instinctively he grabbed for the sword beside him and slashed forward.
Steel rang.
The cup in Cao Zhang's hands split in two and fell to the ground, spinning as it rolled. Silence settled inside the tent.
Cao Zhang rubbed his forehead and hurried forward to help, eager and attentive.
Cao Cao pushed the boy aside with a frown. He looked over the faces of the advisers present and spoke directly.
"What is the situation? How much time has passed?"
"Father, only one hour. Liu Bei has made no move. He has merely camped across the river, about a hundred paces away."
Cao Cao said nothing. He glanced at his son's yellow beard.
This son of his loved hunting beasts and boasting of strength, just as much as he despised literary pursuits.
And now…
His eyes flicked briefly toward Liu Ye before he withdrew them.
"The enemy's main army is concentrated at Yingyang. Xiangcheng and Jia County cannot be held. Order Cao Xiu and Yu Jin to withdraw and defend Fanchang and Linying."
"With Yan County lost, Zhaoling will not last. Send word to Yuanrang to establish defenses along the Zhi River. Ruyang must not fall."
"And have Zitong head north to reinforce the defenses along the Xingyang line. Also… find an opportunity to support Zihuan."
For Cao Cao, facing a situation that grew worse and still unclear, these were among the few orders he could still give.
Jiang Ji accepted the command, bowed deeply, then turned to leave.
"My lord must take care."
Those orders were for the wider field. As for the troops under his direct command, there was little to consider.
"The whole army will remain on alert and build fortifications. The enemy must not be allowed to cross the river."
The men in the tent dispersed. Only then did Cao Cao sink back onto his couch and mutter bitterly:
"A foolish boy, short on strategy and lacking courage. If only he could be like Yuan Xiansi…"
The tent fell silent.
Soon came the rustle of armor being fastened. When he emerged, fully armed and face set cold, Cao Cao looked every bit the commander again.
At a time like this, self-pity was useless. Only by sharing hardship with the soldiers could he seize even a sliver of survival.
Yet when he turned north again, worry for his family gnawed at him. At the same time, a vague understanding of what had happened in Ye City began to form.
The Emperor was weak. Someone must be plotting behind him.
The Empress was brave, but still only one woman, and inexperienced.
The upheaval had come suddenly, at exactly the right moment, and seemed to exploit Cao Zihuan's lack of military sense.
Someone capable of such planning…
Cao Cao dimly remembered the strategist who had once orchestrated the disaster at Wan City.
---
Unexpectedly, the next few days along both banks of the Yi River grew quiet.
The river itself was barely eighty paces wide. It flowed calmly between Liu Bei's camp and Cao Cao's, running southward without pause.
At Yinqiang County, the Yi River merged into the Ying River.
There, in a small riverside town, the Cao commander threw down his weapon in despair. Behind him, the soldiers exchanged glances. One finally stepped forward, cut off their commander's head, wrapped it hastily in cloth, and sent it out of the city.
The Ying River flowed on, passing one city after another.
At Xihua, the gates stood open. The place was almost an empty city.
At Ruyang, all four gates had collapsed. A one-eyed general fought atop the ruins, but his guards were already fleeing or withdrawing, and enemy troops seemed endless on every side.
Farther on, Lejia County burned in full flame. Nandun, though shattered, had fallen silent. On its walls fluttered banners marked Han, Liu, and Guan, stirring in the autumn wind.
The river did not pause for any of this. It continued onward, joined by the ancient Langtang Canal, built through the Zhou, Qin, and Han dynasties, also called the Hong Canal.
At their meeting point stood Xiang County. On its walls a general shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Immortal master, stop your sorcery! Zang Ba is willing to surrender!"
"We are both servants of the Han. Why force us to this?!"
The waters flowed on through Ruoyin, where the city already flew Liu Han banners. A force had even marched out along the river, heading upstream.
"Shamoke, do you really not need to rest?"
"Boqi, you rest if you want. I'm not tired!"
The rivers of Yingchuan roared on, never stopping. Southward they merged with the Fei River, then the Huai, turned east, and joined the Guo River. By then the waters were vast and surging, waves rising wild and free.
Then one such wave smashed against the hull of a great ship and burst apart. Droplets clung to the wood, and faint voices drifted down.
"Master Jichang, do you think we can still make it in time for the battle?"
"Gan Gui, do not rush. The navy's merit is not only in destroying the enemy."
The droplets slid down the hull, gathered into a trickle, and fell back into the Huai, carried onward past nearly a hundred vessels of all sizes, continuing east.
All rivers eventually meet the sea.
Inside a tent, Kongming watched his lord standing by the river, gazing across in expectation. He smiled and said gently:
"When the Han stand united, the rebels will fall."
"My lord, what is there to worry about?"