Reborn In The Three Kingdoms - Chapter 969

Chapter 969: 922. Ma Chao Returned Back To Xiapi
 

“So,” he murmured, his tone calm but his eyes sharp as a blade. “The Emperor dreams again. Let him. Dreams make men careless.” He closed the report, sealing it with wax. “Continue watching him please. If he gathers wings, we’ll clip them before they take flight.”

The Oriole Agent bowed low before Fa Zheng, their shadow merging almost seamlessly with the dim candlelight that flickered against the wooden walls. The agent accepted the sealed letter without a word, tucked it into their robes, and vanished through the narrow doorway like smoke dissolving into air. The faint echo of soft footsteps faded into silence, leaving Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da alone within the chamber’s tense stillness.

Zhang Song was the first to speak, his sharp eyes reflecting the lamplight as he leaned forward, his voice low but edged with unease. “It seems,” he began, “that Emperor Xian has decided to test his fate once more. He dreams of banners, of armies marching in his name, of taking back what he believes to be rightfully his. But by amassing foreign soldiers, does he not see that he is summoning wolves into his very home? He would rather gamble with barbarians than trust those who have allowed him to live in comfort and peace. Tell me, is there truly a difference between wolves and tigers when both are hungry?”

Fa Zheng said nothing at first. He let Zhang Song’s words hang in the air, letting their weight settle like smoke before his gaze shifted toward the open window, where faint moonlight seeped through. Meng Da, ever the more pragmatic of the three, exhaled quietly, folding his hands together.

“Emperor Xian’s mind,” Meng Da said, referring to Emperor Xian with the detached tone of one speaking of a distant acquaintance, “is no longer governed by reason. All he thinks of now is the restoration of his so called divine mandate. He dreams of the Han rising again, as though the world will simply bow once more before his seal. He does not see what we see, that the empire he mourns is long dead. He cannot think beyond his obsession.”

Fa Zheng turned, his expression calm, yet his eyes glinted like cold steel. “It is as we planned,” he said softly. “We provoked him. Every whisper, every slight hint of autonomy on our part was designed to push him to act, to reveal the depths of his desperation. By sending Wang Fu and Wu Yi away, he has weakened himself further. They were his last loyal voices in this province. Now, his court is hollow, and his paranoia will make him reckless.”

Zhang Song’s lips curved into a thin smile. “So you mean to say, Fa Zheng, that the Emperor has dug his own grave.”

Fa Zheng met his gaze evenly. “Precisely. And it is we who will decide when to bury him.”

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the faint creak of wood and the whisper of the night wind outside. Then, with deliberate calm, Fa Zheng rose from his seat and poured himself a cup of warm wine. He took a sip, then spoke again, his tone measured but laced with a quiet, dangerous conviction.

“No matter what happens next,” he said, “this may be the moment we have been waiting for. The Han has withered in name and in strength. Liu Zhang is but a ghost of leadership. Emperor Xian’s presence here is an inconvenience, a relic of a past age clinging to life by the mercy of others. It is time for that illusion to end. If the Emperor wishes to summon foreign tribes to Chengdu… then so be it. Let him gather them. When the time is right, we will strike, not only against him but against all who still claim the Han name.”

Meng Da blinked in surprise. “Strike… against the Han itself?”

Fa Zheng’s lips curled faintly. “Yes. It is time to deliver this land to its rightful ruler, Emperor Hongyi of the Hengyuan Dynasty.”

Both Zhang Song and Meng Da exchanged startled glances. The weight of the statement hung between them like a drawn blade. Fa Zheng’s tone carried no hesitation, no trace of fear or doubt. He had made his choice long ago; this was simply the moment to reveal it.

Zhang Song, recovering first, leaned back in his chair, studying Fa Zheng carefully. “So this is your intent… to began the transition to Hengyuan?”

“Yes that’s correct,” Fa Zheng noded smoothly, his eyes narrowing. “Shu has always been a fractured land, torn between decaying loyalties and shifting powers. Emperor Hongyi has done what none have managed since the fall of the Han, he has restored stability. He governs with both might and mind. Even now, he pushes back the Wei to Hongnong with unyielding strength. To cling to a dead name like the Han is to sink with it.”

Meng Da frowned, his brow furrowing. “Even if we agree with you, Fa Zheng, the timing must be considered. His Majesty is focused on the north. His armies are fighting Cao Cao’s forces at Hongnong. Are you certain he have the time to accept our allegiance now?”

Fa Zheng smiled faintly, a smile that did not reach his eyes. “He will. His Majesty would not need to send an army, the Han garrisons here are already his in all but name. After all, who commands them? We do. Once the administrative changes are enacted and our pledge is sent, the city will fall under Hengyuan rule without a single drop of unnecessary blood spilled.”

Zhang Song’s expression slowly shifted from skepticism to intrigue. “So we let Emperor Xian play his game,” he mused aloud, “allow him to bring in his foreign soldiers… and when he does, we strike, accuse him of conspiring with outsiders to slaughter his own people. The people will turn on him before he even realizes the trap has closed.”

Fa Zheng nodded approvingly. “Exactly. We will brand him a traitor. The people of Shu will not weep for the end of the Han when they believe their emperor sold their safety to barbarians. By the time the Oriole Agents deliver word of our loyalty to Hengyuan, the transition will already be complete.”

Meng Da’s tone grew firmer now, confidence replacing hesitation. “Then it’s settled. We prepare quietly. We let him think his secret plans remain unseen. Meanwhile, we position our forces around Chengdu, ensuring the Emperor’s every move is under watch. When the time comes…”

Fa Zheng raised his cup, cutting him off gently. “When the time comes, gentlemen, we will ensure that Emperor Xian’s final decree is to sign away his empire forever.”

They all drank together, sealing their unspoken pact.

In the days that followed, Chengdu’s streets seemed calm, almost deceptively so. The markets bustled as usual, courtiers went about their routines, and the imperial banners still fluttered lazily atop the palace walls. Yet beneath that calm, the city’s veins pulsed with conspiracy.

Oriole Agents moved like shadows, feeding Fa Zheng’s network with every whisper from the Emperor’s hidden quarters. The “safe house” that Emperor Xian had arranged for his returning envoys was discreetly surrounded, watched day and night.

Meanwhile, in the southern quarter, Wang Fu and Wu Yi rested briefly with their men, unaware that their every movement was being reported back to Fa Zheng. They spoke of their next journey beyond the mountains, of the tribes they hoped to rally, oblivious to the tightening snare around them.

Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da met regularly under the guise of administrative discussions. Maps were spread across tables, letters were drafted under false seals. One courier after another slipped through Chengdu’s backstreets, carrying messages to their people all around Yi Province.

And so, while the Emperor dreamed of restoring his ancient throne, his so called ministers quietly dismantled it piece by piece.

Several days later, far from the intrigues of Chengdu, the city of Xiapi was alive with celebration.

Ma Chao’s army had returned.

After months of campaigning across the jungles of the southeast, helping the Sun Clan and Shi Clan subdue the Kingdom of Funan and Champa, the great general had finally led his troops home.

The people poured into the streets, their cheers rising like thunder as banners of gold and crimson rippled above their heads. Flower petals fell like snow upon the soldiers’ armor as they marched through the city gates, their formation impeccable, their banners gleaming beneath the late afternoon sun.

At the head of the column rode Ma Chao, his silver armor polished to a mirror’s shine, the plume of his helmet fluttering proudly in the wind. At his sides rode his kin, Ma Dai, Ma Tie, and Ma Xiu, each bearing the marks of battle and the pride of victory. Behind them stretched an ocean of soldiers, a hundred thousand strong, the might of the Imperial Army.

As they passed through Xiapi’s broad avenues, the crowd erupted in joyous cries. Children waved flags. Women threw garlands of flowers from the balconies. Merchants closed their stalls to watch the heroes return. It was not only a parade, it was the triumphant return of warriors who had carried the empire’s banner into lands few had ever seen.

When they reached the great gates of the palace, a detachment of elite guards awaited them. Word had already spread, Emperor Hongyi himself had prepared a grand banquet to welcome them home.

The palace of Xiapi glowed with light.

Inside the grand hall, music echoed, flutes and zithers harmonizing with the rhythmic beat of drums. The scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and incense filled the air. Rows of officials, generals, and envoys from allied clans lined the chamber, their silken robes gleaming beneath the lantern light.

At the far end, seated upon a raised dais, was Lie Fan, Emperor Hongyi of the Hengyuan Dynasty. His presence commanded the hall without effort: regal yet approachable, the aura of a ruler both wise and formidable. His crown gleamed faintly beneath the golden light, and his expression carried a mixture of pride and relief.

When the heralds announced Ma Chao’s arrival, the music softened. The four Ma brothers entered together, their armor gleaming as they strode into the hall. A respectful murmur rippled through the assembly, followed by applause and cheers as they approached the throne.

Lie Fan rose from his seat, stepping down from the dais to meet them personally. The sight stunned the courtiers, few emperors would leave their thrones to greet their generals. But Lie Fan had always been different.

Ma Chao dropped to one knee, his brothers following suit. “Your Majesty,” he said, his voice steady but filled with pride, “we have returned from the southern campaign. The Sun Clan and Shi Clan now hold dominion over the jungles of Funan and Champa, and their allegiance to the Hengyuan Dynasty is secured. The enemy has been pacified. The lands are at peace.”

______________________________

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