"Within two strikes, you will lose."
Zhao Yun's voice was cool and flat.
Across from him, Ma Chao's expression darkened instantly. The fire he had been suppressing finally broke loose.
Since his youth, Ma Chao had been famous across the Three Auxiliaries. For more than ten years, he had ridden roughshod through Yong and Liang, and in his own estimation, no one worth mentioning had ever crossed his path.
Zhang Yide was indeed terrifying on foot—but when it came to mounted combat?
Ma Chao's verdict was simple: the man knows how to ride a horse.
Sparring. Drinking. Mutual boasting.
It was through these exchanges that Ma Chao came to realize just how stacked Liu Xuande's camp truly was.
Zhang Fei alone was already ferocious in infantry combat, yet by his own admission, his sworn brother Guan Yunchang was even stronger—versed in naval warfare as well, and famed for cutting down Yan Liang amid ten thousand troops in Hebei.
And if one really wanted to talk about credibility?
Battle records spoke louder than anything.
Last year, Zhang Fei took Hanzhong, sending the once-arrogant Zhang Lu fleeing like a stray dog.
This year, Guan Yu fought at Xiangfan—great warships dominating the Han River, charging into Wan City, slaying Cao Hong in single combat. The tale spread throughout Yong and Liang.
Now compare that to Ma Chao himself.
He and Han Sui claimed a coalition of one hundred thousand troops—only to end up polishing Cao Cao's reputation instead.
Zhang Fei, drunk as usual, had once slapped his thigh and sighed loudly:
"A hundred thousand men!
When I took Hanzhong and Second Brother took Jingzhou, the two armies together barely reached sixty thousand.
So how'd you lot manage to get chased around like rabbits by Cao Cao?"
That single line made Ma Chao hate Han Sui even more—and admire Liu Xuande's faction all the more.
If, back at Tong Pass, Ma Chao's deputy had been Pang Tong or Fa Zheng—or even if he'd been commanding jointly with that black brute Zhang Fei—instead of Han Sui, whose scheming mind had more twists than hair on his head…
Would he really have ended up roasting rabbits in the wilds of Yong and Liang?
Ma Chao had once subtly asked Liu Xuande whether he needed a cavalry commander.
And it was from Zhang Fei's mouth that he first heard the name Zhao Yun.
No famed achievements.
No impressive record.
And yet he dared to call himself the best under Heaven?
That first exchange just now—Ma Chao admitted it. Zhao Yun had skill.
But to look down on him like this?
The anger finally snapped.
Ma Chao wheeled his horse around almost impatiently.
He clamped his legs tight. The famed Liangzhou warhorse reared and screamed, charging forward with unstoppable momentum toward the blue-roan horse opposite him.
Ma Chao straightened his back. Rage and killing intent boiled in his chest. He ignored the cold wind cutting across his face, gripping his long lance with both hands, eyes locked onto the rider ahead.
This time, he held nothing back.
Calculating the distance precisely, just as the two were about to meet, he swept his lance sideways—aimed straight at Zhao Yun's back.
This blow was certain.
With the force of a full gallop behind it, Ma Chao in his prime—sure, he couldn't overpower Zhang Fei—but Zhao Yun? Even if he blocked it head-on, he'd suffer badly.
The angle was perfect, skimming just over the upper back of the horse.
There was no dodging it.
Unless Zhao Yun could fly—
…Wait.
Where did Zhao Yun go?
The sweeping strike hit nothing.
Worse, the force carried through uncontrollably, pitching Ma Chao's body forward.
Then—
A silver spear shaft slammed into his chest.
The blow was merciless, heavy with momentum.
Ma Chao's vision went black instantly. His legs lost their grip, and he tumbled off the Liangzhou steed.
The final thought that flashed through his fading consciousness was:
"Didn't you say… two strikes?"
Pang De, watching from the side, saw everything clearly.
At the moment Ma Chao unleashed that seemingly certain sweep, General Zhao Yun had shifted his entire body sideways—hanging off the horse.
His body left the saddle completely, one foot hooked into the stirrup, evading the attack by a hair's breadth.
Then, in a single motion, he swung back upright.
The trailing silver spear arced up with the horse's speed behind it—and struck Ma Chao clean off his mount.
Clean. Efficient.
Still, Pang De couldn't help but think his general had been unlucky.
After all, stirrups were usually only useful when mounting a horse—often just a cloth loop to step on.
Which side they were on depended entirely on personal habit.
Who would have expected Zhao Yun to be so extravagant?
Iron stirrups.
Stable enough to hang his entire body from.
Had the stirrup been on the other side, Zhao Yun would have had no place to hide and would have been forced to block directly.
In that case…
The outcome might not have been so clear.
Only then did Pang De snap back to reality—his general was still lying on the ground.
He rushed over, shouting.
Thankfully, Ma Chao's flashy brocade armor wasn't just for show. The buffered force had only knocked the wind out of him.
That was enough to make Zhang Fei breathe a sigh of relief.
Zhao Yun, calm as ever, even had time to joke:
"Third Brother, were you afraid I'd beat him to death out of spite?"
Zhang Fei relaxed and slung an arm over Zhao Yun's shoulder.
"Nah. Just thinkin' this Ma Chao's got some brains. Would be a shame to kill him.
Plus, he's got some prestige in Yong and Liang. Killing him would be a hassle."
Zhao Yun's expression turned complicated.
"Best not let Ma Chao hear that. He'd fight you to the death."
"Eh?" Zhang Fei scratched his head.
"I praised him! Said he's got prestige! What's there to be mad about? Damn, people are hard to serve."
Then he sighed, genuinely regretful.
"Still… Ma Mengqi's usually arrogant as hell.
If you'd knocked him flat for three to five months, that'd really teach him."
Zhao Yun just shook his head.
Controlling strength like that wasn't easy.
He'd only meant to knock Ma Chao off balance—who knew he'd knock him unconscious?
Thirty years old, prime of life… and yet such a brittle spearhead?
Ma Chao, unconscious on the ground, never knew Zhao Yun had just returned the favor with an evaluation of his own.
Zhang Fei shouted:
"Someone help Lingming move Old Five Ma into a tent!
Great scenery here—bring two lambs, slaughter and roast 'em!"
And just like that, the sudden sparring incident ended.
People lit fires, butchered lambs, inspected horses, broke in mounts—busy and cheerful.
"Local lamb's real fatty!" Zhang Fei called out warmly.
"Zilong, you've gotta try it!"
After they sat down, perhaps prompted by Ma Chao's arrival, Zhao Yun—after praising the lamb—took the initiative to ask about the situation in Yong, Liang, Longyou, and Guanzhong.
"Zilong must prepare to face Zhang Liao."
Just by the voice, Zhao Yun knew it was Pang Tong.
After exchanging greetings with the strategist and an unfamiliar general, Zhao Yun yielded a seat.
Pang Tong scattered insect-repelling powder in a circle before carefully sitting down. He sliced lamb from the leg, inspected it thoroughly to ensure it was cooked through, then nodded in satisfaction and ate.
Zhao Yun watched the wind tear the clouds apart and knead them back together, thinking how different this land was from Chengdu—similar to Liaodong, yet subtly distinct.
Aloud, he asked:
"Does the strategist believe Jiangdong has secretly colluded with Cao Cao?"
"What? Jiangdong betrayed the alliance?"
The first to blurt it out was Cheng Gongying.
Pang Tong gestured for calm and, after introductions, said leisurely:
"To Sun Hou, after Jingxiang, offense and defense have reversed."
"Sun Hou wants Jiangdong.
Our lord seeks the realm."
"Now we've won Jingxiang, hold Yong and Liang, taken Hanzhong, and press toward Guanzhong—momentum like restoring the Han Founder's legacy."
"To strike the strong by allying with another—only natural.
Short-sighted men see advantage in sudden betrayal."
Zhao Yun fell silent, then nodded.
"Cao Cao dominates the Central Plains.
If he can blunt our edge and recover, his position improves as well."
"Thus he offers great profit to turn Sun Hou's heart.
Jiangdong sits at Jingzhou's elbow—one strike is enough to bind General Guan's hands."
Pang Tong raised an eyebrow.
"Zilong's gained much insight lately."
Zhao Yun only smiled.
Hard not to, when he stared every day at that map from the future.
Even if river markings were off, the difference from contemporary maps was night and day.
Pang Tong nodded.
"Yuanzhi wrote last month—Jiangxia is reinforcing."
"From July to now, all correspondence between Jiangxia and Jingzhou has been written by Lü Meng and Lu Yi."
Zhang Fei, busy with lamb, muttered:
"Those two again? Heh. This'll be fun."
Everyone nodded.
Only Cheng Gongying grew anxious:
"If we know Sun Hou wavers, why not send envoys to reaffirm the alliance?"
Everyone exchanged looks.
Then shook their heads in unison.
"Useless," Zhang Fei said.
Pang Tong concluded:
"Thus, Sun and Cao align.
Shouchun's troops can be redeployed to Guanzhong and Jingzhou."
"Zhang Wenyuan has old ties with Yunchang.
For safety, Cao Cao will send him west."
Zhang Fei instantly perked up, jumped up, wiped greasy hands on his clothes, and massaged Pang Tong's shoulders.
"I wanna capture Zhang Wenyuan alive with eight hundred men.
Strategist got a plan?"
Pang Tong shoved him away, sniffed the mutton grease, and rolled his eyes.
"You think I'm Kongming the sorcerer?
Zhang Liao is a veteran cavalry general.
Eight hundred? You're dreaming."
Zhang Fei frowned.
"If I kill him, won't future generations curse me?
No, no."
Someone snorted sarcastically:
"Heh. Ambitious talk, Yide—like you've already eaten Zhang's eight thousand."
Zhang Fei turned.
Ma Chao stood there, hands on hips.
"Since he's a cavalry general, let me show the might of Liangzhou's riders!
Watch closely, Zhang Yide!"
Zhang Fei thought only one thing:
Zilong really should've hit him harder.
Meanwhile.
In Jiangling, Jiang Wan opened a secret letter from merchants and couldn't help laughing bitterly.
"Lü Meng again—disguising soldiers as merchants to reinforce Jiangxia.
Why does this man only know one trick, like General Yide?"
Shaking his head, unconcerned, Jiang Wan instructed a former clerk:
"Write a letter. Inform General Guan at Wan City again."
Today's life lesson:
Never drink expired milk. Even if it only expired today.