Chapter 34: A World of Ice and Fire

When a cavalryman falls from his horse, there is almost always only one outcome; Wen Chou was no exception. He had no way of knowing that Cao Cao’s command to his troops was to disregard everything and cut down Wen Chou first. It wasn’t until he hit the ground and saw both generals and soldiers of Cao’s army, weapons raised, all racing to stab at him, that he suddenly understood—but by then, it was far too late.

One ordinary soldier of Cao’s forces, in the midst of pursuing other fleeing enemies, suddenly found Wen Chou fall right beneath his own horse’s hooves.

“Kill Wen Chou!”

A resounding shout rang in his ears, compelling him to look at the battered and dizzy Wen Chou sprawled on the ground. Lifting his blood-stained spear high, he struck Wen Chou with the first blow; the second spear came from some unknown direction, then the first sword, the second sword…

Every participant in this act remembered Cao Cao’s words before they set out: Whether they could kill Wen Chou in this outnumbered battle would determine the future course of their war against Yuan Shao. The intricacies of warfare were lost on the soldiers, but what they understood was that only victory after victory could ensure their survival.

In the end, it was only when Cao Hong shouted and drove back the frenzied soldiers that they barely managed to retrieve something resembling Wen Chou’s intact head.

The ranks of Yuan Shao’s army had already fallen into chaos, scattered in all directions by just a few hundred of Cao’s cavalry charging through their midst. Some among Yuan’s men, relying on their overwhelming numbers, had not been worried; they believed that for every ten of them, even if one Cao soldier fell, victory would still be theirs in the end.

But when Wen Chou’s head was finally hoisted atop a banner pole, the last shreds of their hope were shattered, and true flight began.

By this time, Liu Bei and his close followers had already fled several miles away. In the battle to slay Wen Chou, Guan Yu had not ventured into the heart of the fray but instead cut down a few Yuan soldiers on the periphery who tried to reinforce Wen Chou. His gaze, however, was fixed on Liu Bei’s distant command standard, watching until that small group of men and horses had gone beyond Cao’s reach.

Guan Yu understood that if he wished, he could reunite with Liu Bei that very day, and under Yuan Shao, he would surely be valued—after all, he had already proven himself superior to Yan Liang. Yet he forced himself to suppress this impulse, for the sake of Liu Bei’s two wives, still residing within the imperial palace.

He trusted Liu Bei would understand and believed, too, that Liu Bei would not remain under Yuan Shao’s banner forever.

There was another matter, one of which Guan Yu himself might not even have been aware: subconsciously, in this battle, he had already sided with Cao Cao, especially after that night’s conversation with Emperor Xian.

“Wen Chou is dead, Yuan’s army defeated! Dismount and surrender at once—those who do not will be killed!”

Cao Hong rode through the opposing lines, brandishing the banner adorned with Wen Chou’s head, shouting loudly, his personal guards echoing his cry.

The bolder among Yuan Shao’s men, knowing the Cao troops were few, leapt onto their horses and fled in desperation. The more timid simply threw down their weapons, knelt on the ground, and awaited their fate.

The entire battle lasted less than an hour. Of Cao Cao’s six hundred riders, nearly four hundred survived the final tally. Although most of Yuan Shao’s thousands of horsemen escaped, nearly a thousand were captured, along with several hundred horses.

This was a textbook case of winning war with war, especially with horses—an exceptionally scarce resource in this era—each one of vital importance. By any measure, this was a one-sided victory for Cao Cao.

“Lord Chancellor, our army has routed the pursuers of Wen Chou and Liu Bei; Wen Chou has been slain amid the chaos, and Liu Bei’s whereabouts are unknown. Though we lost over two hundred cavalry, we also captured many enemy troops!”

After the battle, Cao Hong tossed Wen Chou’s severed head at Cao Cao’s feet and began reporting their results. Clearly, such a great victory was beyond their earlier expectations.

Yet, no trace of pride could be seen on Cao Cao’s face. True, the successive deaths of Yuan Shao’s formidable generals Yan Liang and Wen Chou were a heavy blow to enemy morale. But from the perspective of overall strength, Yuan Shao was far from crippled.

“Reorganize the troops and withdraw to Guandu.”

Cao Cao immediately issued the order to retreat. He knew that once Yuan Shao heard of Wen Chou’s death, he would fly into a rage, and a true assault would soon follow. Whether he could hold out to the end, or Yuan Shao could break through Guandu before exhausting his own forces—these would determine the outcome.

Though they had prepared as best they could, Cao Cao dared not relax; after all, his disadvantage in numbers was difficult to overcome.

Bringing with them the surrendered soldiers, captured horses, and more supplies than they had lost, Cao Cao’s forces hurried back to Guandu, aware that Yuan Shao’s wrath was on its way, and the final confrontation was not far off.

Cao Cao’s original plan upon returning to Guandu was to convene his strategists and discuss how to hold out until Yuan Shao’s strength was spent. Although they had won several battles, a direct assault would be unwise; only attrition could bring hope.

However, as soon as he arrived, Cao Cao noticed something amiss. For this expedition to relieve Baima, he had taken Guo Jia and Xun Yu with him, leaving Cheng Yu and the others to defend Guandu. Yet now, all awaited him with anxious faces, which was out of character, especially given their recent victory and the fact that Yuan Shao’s attack was not imminent.

“What has happened?” Cao Cao asked Cheng Yu the moment he entered and closed the door.

He had left Xun Yu in charge at Xuchang, entrusting Guandu to Cheng Yu in his absence. In Cao Cao’s eyes, these were men who could be relied upon to manage affairs independently, so he had no worries about leading the army himself.

“My lord…” Cheng Yu drew a letter from his robe but glanced at the attendants by the door.

Cao Cao’s brows knitted; he sensed the gravity of the situation. Waving his hand, he dismissed everyone but his trusted advisers, then took the letter from Cheng Yu.

It was written by Xun Yu. After handing it over, Cheng Yu bowed his head; clearly, the matter was so grave that he dared not make any decisions before Cao Cao’s return.

That letter let Cao Cao experience firsthand what it meant to be plunged from the heights of victory into the depths of uncertainty.