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And so, the very next day, the audience hall of Xiapi filled with voices. The air buzzed with discontent, courtiers bowing yet raising their protests with barely concealed urgency. Their robes swished as they pressed forward, speaking in respectful but insistent tones, their words rising until they clashed against one another like sparring blades.
"This mobilization was too hasty!" cried one. "Three commands at once? The roads will choke with supply wagons, the granaries will empty too swiftly, our people will suffer!"
"Indeed!" another shouted, his face flushed with the passion of his argument. "Such movement of men requires months of planning! Where will the fodder for horses come from when winter creeps upon us? Already the tax collectors strain the peasants' backs to breaking!"
They did not question the Emperor's ultimate authority, nor his goal. Unifying the land by crushing Cao Cao was the unspoken dream of every loyal official.
But the process, the delicate balance of power where the court acted as a check, however slight, on imperial whim, was being bypassed. It was a principle they felt duty bound to defend, a safeguard against a future where a less wise emperor might plunge the dynasty into disaster.
At the front of the hall, Jia Xu, the Chancellor, stood with his hands folded calmly within his sleeves. His expression was the same unreadable mask he had worn through decades of storms, the kind of calm that could either soothe or unnerve. Beside him stood Xun You, the Grand Commandant, his slender form upright, his eyes sharp and steady like an eagle surveying prey.
When the voices threatened to grow into chaos. Lie Fan listened, his expression impassive, but a faint weariness touched his eyes. He had anticipated this. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod to his Chancellor, Jia Xu.
Seeing that, Jia Xu's hand rose. The movement was slight, but it carried weight, and the hall stilled. His voice, when he spoke, was measured, each word carrying to the farthest corner of the chamber.
"Gentlemen of the court, the concerns of the ministries are noted, and their diligence in fiscal and logistical matters is, as always, appreciated," he began, his tone soothing yet firm.
He paused, letting the revelation sink in. "This is not a rash decision. It is the culmination of a long laid plan. Why the secrecy? Because every single second is precious. Cao Cao's eyes and ears are everywhere. A public debate, a drawn out bureaucratic process, would have given him the one thing we cannot afford, time to prepare. This campaign is not merely important, it is vital for the final unification of the land. His Majesty judged that speed and surprise were weapons more valuable than procedural comfort."
The officials listened, their protest momentarily checked. They weren't surprised their Emperor used secret edicts, it was his signature style. The goal was unquestionably noble. Yet, the principle remained bruised.
Xun You, stepped forward then, his voice cool but carrying the ring of iron, adding his military weight to the argument. "You speak of haste. I tell you this campaign admits no delay. The movement of armies is like the striking of a hawk. It must be swift, decisive, and unseen until the last moment. To have consulted the entire court would have been to tie the hawk's wings. The decision, while sudden to you, was the product of the most meticulous strategic calculation. Each second wasted here in endless debates is another second our soldiers must bleed unnecessarily in the field."
The protestors were cornered by impeccable logic. They supported the war, they understood the need for secrecy against Cao Cao, but a stubborn, principled part of them feared the precedent. They stood their ground, the protest now morphing from one of logistics to one of principle, albeit voiced with extreme caution.
At this time, one man, bold beyond his station, stepped forward and said, "Even if all this is true, should not the Emperor at least allow the court to deliberate? We do not question His Majesty's brilliance, but the court exists to maintain balance, so that no throne, however wise, may one day fall to tyranny."
Lie Fan watched the stalemate from his throne. He understood their position. They were not traitors or obstructionists, they were bureaucrats trying to uphold the system he himself had built, a system designed to withstand the flaws of a lesser ruler. But he was not a lesser ruler, and he had no patience for this dance when the fate of the empire hung in the balance.
He had heard enough.
Slowly, deliberately, he raised the Imperial Staff of Authority. The simple, jade topped rod was more powerful than a shouted command. Instantly, the hall fell into a profound, respectful silence. Every eye was fixed on him.
He stood, his dragon robes rustling softly. His voice, when it came, was calm but carried the absolute, final weight of the Mandate he held.
His voice carried not in thunder, but in a calm authority that brooked no defiance. "We have heard your protests and counsels," he said. "We do not mistake them for disloyalty. You wish only to preserve the balance of this court, to keep the Empire safe from any shadow of tyranny. In that, you are not wrong. A throne unchecked is indeed a danger. We will consider your words in the future, when time allows us to weigh them against necessity."
The words landed like hammer blows, final and immovable. The protesting officials lowered their gazes further, their shoulders heavy with resignation.
They knew they had lost this battle, though they also knew their Emperor had at least acknowledged their voices, rather than silencing them with punishment. For that alone, relief softened their hearts.
Then Lie Fan's tone shifted, hardening by a single, decisive degree. "But this matter… the advance of the Central, Western, and Northern Commands towards Hulao Gate and Shangdang… is not a subject for debate. It is a final decision. The orders have been given. The armies are already on the march. The mechanism of state, which you rightly seek to protect, must now turn its full efforts to supporting what is already in motion. There will be no recall. There will be no delay. This is the path to unification. This is our destiny."
The protesting officials bowed deeply, their mission accomplished in the only way it could be. They had forced the Emperor to acknowledge their constitutional role, and he had, in turn, confirmed his ultimate authority. In unison, they bowed deeply, their sleeves brushing the polished floor. "We obey, Your Majesty."
And with that, the storm passed. The officials filed out of the hall, their minds already shifting from protest to the frantic work of catching up with the war machine their Emperor had so masterfully and secretly set in motion.
As the hall emptied, Lie Fan remained standing for a moment, looking out at the now quiet chamber. He knew the balancing act would never end. It was the price of building a dynasty meant to last, rather than a personal fiefdom that would die with him.
But for now, the bureaucratic frogs had been placated. The political theater was over. The real war, the one of blood and steel, was beginning its long march north. The drums of Xiapi had fallen silent, but soon, they would be replaced by the thunder of siege engines at the gates of Cao Cao's heartland.
The orders of Lie Fan, so recently thundered forth from Xiapi's marble halls, had already been transformed into action on the earth itself. His words were no longer mere decrees but rivers of men flowing westward, dust rising in heavy clouds that stained the late summer sky.
The Central Command, 250,000 strong, marched under the banners of Zhang Liao and the ever calculating Sima Yi. Their columns stretched for miles, boots pounding in steady rhythm, supply wagons creaking under the weight of grain, weapons, and siege equipment. From Xiapi they pushed west toward Hulao Gate, the great choke point of the Central Plains.
At the same time, to the north, the banners of the Hengyuan dragon fluttered above the Northern Command. Huang Zhong, his beard already silver yet his spirit as fierce as ever, rode at the head beside Chen Deng.
Together they drove 200,000 soldiers out of Ye and toward Shangdang. Their movement was swift, relentless, for the distance was shorter and the road straighter. They carried only the supplies they needed, intent on reaching their target before the defenders could properly steel themselves.
To the west, Taishi Ci and Zang Hong commanded the Western Command. 250,000 men spilled out of Xiangyang, the roar of their march like the sound of a living sea.
Their route was longer, but it carried them to the same goal as Zhang Liao's Central Command, Hulao Gate. There, the two forces would converge like twin hammer blows, poised to shatter the defenses that stood as Cao Cao's shield to Luoyang.
Altogether, 750,000 men moved. Their banners blotted out hillsides, their marching shook the earth. Farmers along the roads paused in their fields to stare, some dropping to their knees in awe, others whispering prayers for the safety of sons conscripted to march under the dragon of Hengyuan. The land itself seemed to groan under the weight of the mobilization.
When Zhang Liao and Sima Yi's Central Command linked with Taishi Ci and Zang Hong's Western Command at Xuchang, the meeting was orderly, like the joining of two great rivers. Here, they took brief respite. Wagons of rice and millet were brought in, oxen rested, horses watered. The soldiers, though weary, still carried themselves with a confidence born of discipline.
They knew this campaign was not a raid, not a probing strike, it was the decisive blow against Cao Cao. Their rest was short, for the commanders dared not linger. Time was a blade, sharpest in the hands of those who wielded it swiftly.
The Northern Command under Huang Zhong did not pause. Shangdang lay too near to allow delay. They pressed on, their scouts riding hard ahead to map roads, streams, and enemy positions. Their speed was their greatest weapon, every hour gained would tighten the noose before Cao Cao's commanders could react.
Inside Cao Cao's realm, however, panic spread like wildfire. At Shangdang, 75,000 men held the passes and garrisons. At Hulao Gate, 125,000 stood guard. On paper, these were strong forces, enough to deter any common enemy.
But against Lie Fan's sudden thunderous march, they were gnats before a storm. Worse yet, recent months had drained their numbers. The war against Liu Zhang in Yi Province had proven far bloodier than anticipated. The sieges of Jianmen Pass and now Zitong had drawn heavily from Cao Cao's reserves.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 35 (202 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 966 (+20)
VIT: 623 (+20)
AGI: 623 (+10)
INT: 667
CHR: 98
WIS: 549
WILL: 432
ATR Points: 0