Chapter 14: First Encounter with Yun Chang

“Sir, you may return home tomorrow. Although your departure this time will not arouse Cao Cao’s suspicion of my involvement, Wu Commandery’s ambitions for the Central Plains are clear, and Cao Cao desires this as well. Therefore, before he sets out against Yuan Shao, I implore you to take great care.”
The matter was settled, but the most crucial thing was to endure through the period before Cao Cao’s campaign.
Defeating Yuan Shao was by no means a trivial affair. Even though Cao Cao commanded a host of able strategists and valiant generals, he was still sorely lacking in troops. Liu Xie knew well that, though Cao Cao held the emperor as a shield and issued orders to the lords, the number of soldiers at his command was far from a hundred thousand.
To triumph with the weak over the strong had always been the hardest feat; thus, Cao Cao would surely prepare with utmost thoroughness, and such preparation could not be completed in a few days.
The affair of Dong Cheng’s blood-soaked belt and secret edict was not far behind them—Dong Cheng, too, was discovered after his plot was laid. Liu Xie’s warning to Zhang Hong was meant to help him avoid repeating Dong Cheng’s fate.
Yet, upon hearing Liu Xie’s caution, Zhang Hong showed no concern. He continued to sip at the wine, now cool in his cup.
“Your Majesty need not worry. If I should fall into Cao Cao’s hands, it may even prove beneficial for you. My loyalty is not to Your Majesty, but for the sake of Jiangdong, I would never reveal this matter. Rest assured, whether I remain in Xuchang or not, once Cao Cao departs, someone will establish contact with the General Who Assists the State.”
It was exactly this kind of person Liu Xie liked to deal with—someone who anticipated your concerns and addressed them unbidden.
As the second watch passed, Fu Wan, sweating profusely, led Zhang Hong boldly out of Liu Xie’s palace. The palace guards at the gate could hardly fail to notice Fu Wan’s anxious state, but with his daughter allegedly struck by a sudden illness, such urgency was easily explained.
Since he and Sun Ce were of one mind, after seeing Zhang Hong off, Liu Xie’s thoughts turned to another matter that itched at his heart—Guan Yu.
He had been in this era for several months now, playing the role of a muddled emperor for just as long. He had managed to outwit Cao Cao, and his grand scheme of distracting with open preparations while secretly reaching out to Wu Commandery was halfway accomplished. Yet one issue continued to trouble him deeply.
Aside from an empress and her timid father, he had no one in whom he could place his trust—especially not a fierce warrior who would risk life and limb for his emperor.

Cao Cao had Xu Chu and Dian Wei at his side—Dian Wei even gave his life to save Cao Cao, dying without regret. Liu Bei had Zhao Zilong, fearless in the face of ten thousand foes, and the names of Guan and Zhang needed no further mention. Sun Ce, too, was surrounded by loyal elders bequeathed by his father, as well as brothers-in-arms like Zhou Gongjin, who had braved life and death with him.
Yet Liu Xie, the Son of Heaven, was accompanied only by a woman and an old man.
In the end, Liu Xie envied Cao Cao. Give him a Xu Chu and a Dian Wei, and Liu Xie believed he could flourish in these troubled times even without the imperial title.
He knew, however, that brooding on such matters was pointless. His greatest asset at present was the seat beneath him and the title he bore: Emperor.
The words “kill Guan Yu” had left his lips nearly ten times in recent days, but deep down, his feelings were quite the opposite. He had his own thoughts regarding Guan Yu, though at this juncture he dared not confide in anyone.
The next day, a spring rain fell, breathing new life into the long-stagnant palace at Xuchang. Guan Yu was no stranger to Xuchang, but today marked his first step into the imperial palace.
Guan Yu was no fool. Though the emperor resided in Xuchang, he knew perfectly well who truly held the reins of power. Still, having acknowledged himself as a subject of Han, how could he refuse the sovereign’s summons to receive a title? Moreover, Liu Bei’s two wives were still kept under house arrest by Cao Cao. Though he himself was allowed to live outside the palace, Guan Yu understood that if Cao Cao wished to harm them, there was little he could do.
By reason and by duty, he had no choice but to come for this investiture.
Standing at the back of the grand hall among the assembled ministers, Guan Yu waited. Though he had once been appointed Prefect of Xiapi, that title had been bestowed by Liu Bei and counted for nothing here.
As the court session began, Liu Xie watched Guan Yu from the corner of his eye. This was no romanticized fable but reality; Liu Xie much preferred to trust his own eyes.
Guan Yu, for his part, had little interest in Liu Xie—a puppet placed on the throne in his foolish youth. Could such a man halt the dimming fortunes of the Han? Clearly not.
When the routine affairs were concluded, Liu Xie was finally able to look upon Guan Yu openly—not with admiration, but with a look of feigned aversion, exactly as he had declared before.
“Guan Yu is, after all, a general of the Han. Since you have returned to Xudu with the Minister of Works, and as the Han is in dire need of capable men, today I appoint you as Assistant General of the Han. I hope you will render great service to our dynasty and not betray the expectations of both myself and the Minister of Works!”

At these words, Liu Xie fixed Guan Yu with a deep gaze, then gestured for the old eunuch at his side to conduct the formalities.
“Your servant thanks Your Majesty!”
Guan Yu remained as terse and formidable as ever. Though Liu Bei’s two wives were firmly in Cao Cao’s grasp, he showed no sign of fear.
Reputation never matches reality, but seeing Guan Yu today, Liu Xie gained a clear sense of his formidable composure.
Whether it was the famed slaying of Hua Xiong over warming wine or the legendary surgery of scraping poison from the bone, regardless of what was truth or embellishment, the man before him was clearly capable of such feats.
On the court, Liu Xie dared not say much more to Guan Yu, especially with Cao Cao ever watchful. Yet he understood that he already knew enough; as long as Guan Yu lived, he could never remain long in Cao Cao’s camp.
When the court was dismissed, Liu Xie cast a glance of envy at Cao Cao, striding out with a retinue of followers like a tiger with its cubs. It was no mystery why Cao Cao could thrive in Xuchang. In his previous life, Liu Xie had been weak because he had no choice; to show strength would have cost him not just his throne, but his very life.
But in this life, Liu Xie knew his purpose: to extend the life of the Han, to change his own fate as emperor.
Now, all was in readiness; all that remained was the east wind. And Liu Xie knew that wind was soon to blow toward Guandu.
He could not know how many times his butterfly wings had fluttered during these months, nor whether they would alter the outcome of that epic battle. But whatever happened, after this clash of titans, the age of contending warlords would arise—and that, no one could change.