The air in the courtyard was still thick with the scent of spring blooms when Zhang Xin stepped out of Dong Bai's quarters. He made a brief detour to Wang Jiao's pavilion, eager to share the news of Wang Yun's unexpected, legendary exploit.
Wang Jiao's face lit up with a mixture of relief and pleasant surprise. But even as he offered her comfort, Zhang Xin's mind was already racing ahead, drifting toward another figure caught in the turbulent currents of this era: Cai Yan.
"If history holds its course," Zhang Xin mused silently, "Zhao Ji—Cai Yan—is captured by the Xiongnu during the bloody zenith of the Li Jue and Guo Si rebellion."
He mentally mapped out the timeline. Right now, in the early stages of their uprising, the Chang'an court was surprisingly formidable. They commanded the vast, terrifying legacy of Dong Zhuo's elite war machine. Furthermore, the Southern Xiongnu were currently fractured by bitter internal strife, leaving them with no leisure to raid southward.
The turning point would come when Li Jue and Guo Si turned their blades on one another. Once their internal feud tore Guanzhong apart—with Zhang Ji fleeing and Fan Chou executed—the region would plunge into absolute anarchy. Only then, with their own civil war resolved, would the Southern Xiongnu sweep south to plunder, dragging Cai Yan away in the chaos.
"The Li Jue and Guo Si rebellion drags on for roughly three years," Zhang Xin calculated, a sharp gleam in his eye. "Which means time is on my side. For now, the path ahead is clear."
He looked toward the north. "The spring planting is finished. It is time to settle accounts with Yuan Shao."
The Council of War
Returning to the State Prefecture, Zhang Xin wasted no time summoning his generals to the grand hall.
The gears of this war had been turning for months. After the Battle of Pingyuan, Han Fu had desperately sent envoys begging for peace. At the time, with Qingzhou's domestic affairs still fragile, Zhang Xin had feigned agreement, deliberately lulling his rival into a false sense of security.
Han Fu, foolishly taking the bait, had immediately ordered the provincial capital moved back to Gaoyi. Historically, Gaoyi in Zhao Commandery was the traditional seat of the Jizhou Inspectorate. Ye City had only served as a temporary wartime capital because of its proximity to the anti-Dong Zhuo coalition's front lines—much like how Zhang Xin had temporarily staged his operations out of Pingyuan.
But while Han Fu was easily deceived, the brilliant Ju Shou and the rest of his advisors were not. They had fiercely advocated for immediate war preparations. Meanwhile, a desperate Yuan Shao had been whispering poison in Han Fu's ear.
Yuan Shao knew Zhang Xin would never let him live. After the disastrous night at Nangpi, Yuan Shao had been found wandering near Guangchuan County by Chunyu Qiong's scouts. On the advice of Feng Ji, he didn't dare slink back to Nangpi; instead, he fled straight to Ye City to throw himself at Han Fu's mercy.
It was a survival instinct. Only by uniting with Han Fu to crush Zhang Xin—and then turning around to swallow Jizhou whole—did Yuan Shao have a ghost of a chance at the supreme throne. Otherwise, it was just a slow death.
When Zhang Xin first intercepted this intelligence, he had burst into a dry laugh. "Tsk. Guangchuan is over two hundred li from Nangpi! Yuan Shao's donkey cart must have flown."
Spurred by Yuan Shao's frantic warnings and Ju Shou's calculated assessments, Han Fu had ultimately abandoned his plans to relocate to Gaoyi. Instead, he dug his heels into Ye City, aggressively levying troops. Today, over 100,000 soldiers were massed around Ye City—a massive, imposing wall of iron meant to intimidate Qingzhou into submission.
Echoes of Defiance
An hour later, the grand hall was packed. The heavy breathing of hardened warriors filled the room.
Seeing his commanders assembled, Zhang Xin took his seat, his voice echoing with cold authority. "Last year, our campaign to rescue the Emperor failed. Not for lack of valor, but because traitors like Han Fu and Yuan Shao abandoned the righteous path, shattered our alliance, and stabbed our rear."
A collective surge of excitement rippled through the ranks. The generals' eyes blazed. Hearing of battle brings joy; the morale of the army is a rising tide.
Zhang Xin raised a hand, continuing calmly, "Of the five lords who betrayed us, Tao Qian has kept his forces strictly within Xiongzhou's borders. I will grant him a temporary reprieve. But of the other four? Liu Dai and Yuan Yi have already lost their heads. That leaves only Yuan Shao and Han Fu!"
Zhang Xin stood up, his hand dropping heavily onto the hilt of his sword. His voice swelled with righteous fury. "Jizhou has fallen into the hands of vipers. The imperial court is shackled and powerless to intervene. As a minister of the Great Han, having received the profound grace of the late Emperor, it is my sacred duty to execute these rebels and reclaim our lost soil on behalf of the Throne!"
The grand, legitimizing rhetoric struck the hall like a war drum, setting the blood of his commanders on fire.
With their fervor reached its peak, Zhang Xin turned and pointed a sharp finger at the massive tactical map hanging against the wall. "Speak freely. How shall our army dismantle Jizhou?"
The Strategist's Dilemma
Xun You stepped forward, his expression calm and analytical as he laid out two pre-packaged doctrines.
"Lord, we have two paths," Xun You began. "First: We concentrate our entire host into a single spearhead and drive straight for the heart of Ye City. Second: We divide our forces, launching a sweeping campaign to subjugate the surrounding commanderies and kingdoms, systematically stripping Wei Commandery of its support before starving them out."
The hall instantly erupted into heated debate.
The proponents of the direct assault argued with raw military pragmatism. Eight-tenths of Jizhou's total military strength is currently entrenched at Ye City. If we smash Ye City, the remaining nine commanderies will fall like dominoes.
But the advocates for the sweeping strategy held equally valid terrain. If we clip Ye City's wings, those 100,000 allied troops will be trapped in an isolated cage. No reinforcements. No supply lines. The Lord would only need to encircle the city and watch them devour themselves. We take it without spilling a drop of our blood.
Zhang Xin stared intensely at the map, weighing the voices of his men.
A direct assault was efficient, but Ye City was a fortress of monumental proportions, packed with over 100,000 defenders. Even if Han Fu's peasant levies lacked elite training, any peasant can drop a rock from a fortress wall. If the siege dragged on, the untouched outer commanderies of Jizhou might rally, launching a devastating pincer attack on Zhang Xin's rear.
On the flip side, while a sweeping campaign was safer, it was a race against the clock. Yuan Shao and Han Fu wouldn't just watch their supply lines get severed; they would be forced to march out and fight. Zhang Xin's total forces were already outnumbered; if he divided them too thinly, he risked being defeated piecemeal.
"I do not fear them attacking me in the open," Zhang Xin thought, his eyes narrowing. "I fear them hiding in their shell like turtles, dragging us into a war of attrition that wastes the precious lives of my veterans."
Decision made, Zhang Xin looked up, cutting through the chatter.
"We will proceed with the strategist's second plan," Zhang Xin declared, his voice leaving no room for argument. "We divide, conquer the outer commanderies, and systematically strip Ye City of its wings. We will force the Yuan-Han alliance out into the open for a decisive field battle!"
Splitting the forces was a gamble, yes—but it was a calculated provocation to draw the turtle out of its shell.
As the classic text dictates: The highest form of warfare is to attack the enemy's strategy; the next best is to disrupt his alliances; the next is to attack his army in the field; and the worst policy is to attack walled cities.
In a brutal siege, numbers rule. But in a chaotic field battle? Discipline and elite training reign supreme. Zhang Xin's army was smaller, but they were forged in iron. The allied forces were massive, but they were a chaotic mob.
"We take the field," Zhang Xin growled.
"By your command!" the generals roared, saluting in unison.
Assigning the Spears
With the grand strategy locked, the council moved to tactical deployment. The map was carved into three distinct operational vectors, and the generals practically clawed at each other for the chance to lead. Guan Yu, Zhang Liao, Gao Shun, Zhao Yun, Xu He, Xu Rong, Xu Huang, Yu Jin—the hall was a powder keg of martial ambition.
Looking at his star-studded lineup, Zhang Xin felt a sudden wave of fierce pride. Qingzhou is truly too small for a stable of stallions like this...
With a few sharp commands, he settled the dispute:
The Three-Pronged Invasion of JizhouRouteCommanderKey DeputiesForcesObjectivesNorthern RouteZhang LiaoZang Ba, Wu Dun, Yin Li10,000 Tuntian TroopsCapture Bohai, then sweep west to subdue Hejian and Zhongshan.Central RouteXu RongCao Xing, Zhu Ling, Wang Ling8,000 (Three Thousand Camp & Zhu Ling's Division)Penetrate and pacify Anping and Julu commanderies.Southern RouteZhang XinGuan Yu, Zhao Yun, Gao Shun, Taishi Ci, Yu Jin27,000+ (Xuanjia, Five Military, Trap Camp, You/Xuzhou Veterans)Drive through Qinghe, hold Han Fu's main force in check, and lay siege to Ye City.
For the Northern Route, Bohai was currently a ghost province; after the night at Nangpi, Yuan Shao had abandoned his post, leaving it without a governor or a standing garrison. With Zhang Liao's operational genius, turning Bohai into a launchpad to subdue Hejian and Zhongshan would be smooth sailing. Though the Tuntian army wasn't as heavily equipped as the elite Trap Camp, these men were battle-hardened veterans of the anti-Dong campaigns and the Yanzhou pacification. Against Han Fu's raw conscripts, they were gods of war.
"This general will not fail the Lord!" Zhang Liao beamed, bowing deeply under the envious glares of his peers.
Zhang Xin smiled, turning his gaze toward Xu Rong. The veteran general's heart skipped a beat.
"Xu Rong," Zhang Xin called out.
"Present!" Xu Rong stepped forward, his hands clasped tight.
"You hold the center."
The hall grew quiet. Zhang Xin was handing a massive opportunity to a surrendered general who had once served Dong Zhuo. While Xu Rong held high rank, he had always walked on eggshells around the fiercely loyal inner circle of Zhang Liao and Gao Shun.
"Take the Three Thousand Camp and Zhu Ling's men. Secure Anping and Julu," Zhang Xin ordered.
"This general... will defend your trust with his life!" Xu Rong replied, his voice thick with emotion. He knew exactly what this meant. It was a chance to wash away his past and carve his name indelibly into the bedrock of Zhang Xin's regime. The other generals looked uneasy at the appointment, but under Zhang Xin's iron discipline, not a single man dared voice a complaint.
To ensure success, Zhang Xin provided a flawless support structure: Cao Xing, the eagle-eyed master archer; Zhu Ling, a vanguard of raw ferocity; and Wang Ling, a brilliant tactician. With these three balancing his flanks, Xu Rong's operational victory was practically guaranteed.
Meanwhile, Xu He was handed the ultimate responsibility of holding the home front in Pingyuan. It was a calculated move: Xu He had already won immense glory in past campaigns and could afford to sit this one out; furthermore, as a former Yellow Turban leader alongside Zhang Niujiao, he could easily manage local remnants and keep the restless aristocratic clans of Qingzhou from plotting treason while the army was away.
Zhang Xin stepped to the edge of the dais, his voice dropping to a low, resonant rumble. "Return to your camps. Sharpen your blades. Polish your armor."
"The moment the Dragon Boat Festival ends—we march!"
"UNDERSTOOD!" The roar of the generals nearly shattered the roof tiles.
The Silent Warfare of Diplomacy
Once the war council dispersed, the real work began. Zhang Xin kept Xun You behind and summoned Hua Xin along with the civil administration.
An army marches on its stomach. While the generals dreamed of blood and glory, the civil officials began the grueling logistics of moving mountain-loads of grain, fodder, and arrows to supply three separate advancing armies.
But logistics was only half the battle. Zhang Xin knew that before the first arrow was shot, the diplomatic chessboard had to be set.
The highest form of warfare is to frustrate the enemy's plans; the next best is to isolate him from his allies.
If his diplomatic front failed, neighbor states would seize the opportunity to intervene, turning a swift conquest into a quagmire. Look no further than Gaozu, Liu Bang—he defeated the invincible Xiang Yu not just with spears, but because his diplomacy was flawless. He made friends across the realm while Xiang Yu isolated himself until he was forced to cut his own throat at the Wujiang River.
Zhang Xin was powerful, but he was not foolish enough to fight the entire world at once. To swallow Jizhou safely, three variables had to be neutralized:
First: Tao Qian of Xuzhou. The border between Qingzhou and Xuzhou was flat, open plain. If Tao Qian launched a surprise raid while Zhang Xin was deep in Jizhou, the consequences would be catastrophic. To prevent this, Zhang Xin ordered Zhang Niujiao to detach 10,000 Tuntian troops to Ju County under Han Hao, reinforcing Cui Yan at Beihai. It was an unbreakable shield.
Second: Liu Yu of Youzhou. Zhang Xin knew his former superior all too well. Liu Yu was a man of profound benevolence—pious to a fault. Yuan Shao would undoubtedly send weeping envoys to Youzhou, begging for peace in the name of the suffering populace. If Liu Yu's heart softened, he might send troops to mediate or intervene. Turning weapons on a former master would ruin Zhang Xin's reputation across the empire. To preempt this, Zhang Xin drafted a meticulously worded manifesto detailing the absolute political legitimacy and necessity of punishing the traitorous Han Fu. He handed the scroll to Sun Qian, ordering him to ride hard for Ji County. The goal wasn't an alliance; it was absolute, ironclad neutrality.
Third: Zhang Yang of Henei. Henei bordered Jizhou directly, and its current self-proclaimed Governor was Zhang Yang—ironically, a former military officer under Zhang Xin during his tenure as Inspector of Bingzhou. After the chaos of the anti-Dong campaigns and the death of Wang Kuang, Henei had become a lawless vacuum, and Zhang Yang had seized it.
If Zhang Yang marched east to reinforce Yuan Shao, it would severely complicate the Southern Route's advance.
Zhang Xin dipped his brush in ink, drafting a final letter, and handed it to a swift-riding envoy.
"Mark my words well," Zhang Xin instructed the messenger, his eyes cold and penetrating. "When you meet Zhang Yang, do not threaten or force him to send troops to aid our cause. Demand only one thing: he must remain perfectly neutral. If a single Henei soldier crosses into Jizhou to aid the Yuans... he will be treated as an enemy of the state."