Reborn In The Three Kingdoms - Chapter 974

Chapter 974: 926. Form Of Trust Made & Letter Arrive At Yuzhang
“I don’t want our bond to break,” Cao Ang continued, his words carefully chosen, almost fragile. “Not over a throne. Not over a seat that either of us might never sit on. You know as well as I do… the future is uncertain. Look at the world now. Look at Lie Fan.” Cao Pi frowned, taken aback. Cao Ang pressed on before he could respond.

“Father lit the spark that ended the tyranny of Dong Zhuo. He opened the path to the Warlord Era. But Lie Fan… Lie Fan carved the path into something even larger. Something new. The Three Dynasty Era. And…” His voice lowered, heavy with resigned realism. “…beyond that, do you truly think we will ever unify the land? That we will outlast Lie Fan and the Hengyuan Dynasty?”

Cao Pi opened his mouth to speak, but Cao Ang continue his word, voice low and bitter as the wind as his hands curled into fists.

“Pi,” Cao Ang said, “can you truly say that you or I can stand against Lie Fan? Because everything points toward him being the final victor.”

That struck harder than any blade. Cao Pi’s eyes widened in disbelief, then in anger. Not because Cao Ang insulted their dynasty. But because of the defeat in his tone.

Cao Pi grabbed his brother’s shoulders, fingers digging in with more strength than he intended.

“Elder Brother!” he snapped. “How can you say that?” he hissed, anger cutting through his voice. “How can you lose faith in Father? In Wei? In all the sacrifices made for our clan, our dynasty?”

Cao Ang didn’t flinch.

The anger rolling off Cao Pi like heat did not surprise him. He expected it. Perhaps even welcomed it.

Cao Pi continued, breath quickening with emotion. “Do you not see how many have died for us to give us this chance? How many believe in Father? How many have shed blood to keep this dynasty alive? To keep the Cao name burning bright? Our entire lineage, our ancestors, bled and fought so that father could create Wei from the ashes of chaos!”

His voice lowered, trembling with intensity.

“As Crown Prince, you should be the one who believes the most. You should inspire confidence, not despair. If you look defeated now, then how will the soldiers look to you later? How will the people see you? How—”

“Pi.”

Cao Ang’s voice cut through like a blade.

Cao Pi stopped, breathing hard.

Cao Ang gently pulled his brother’s hands off his shoulders, then stepped back a pace.

“I am not being pessimistic,” he said quietly. “I am being pragmatic.”

Cao Pi’s brow furrowed.

Cao Ang continued, his tone steady, calm, painfully honest. “Whenever we face Lie Fan… we never win. Not once. Every stratagem Father lays out, Lie Fan is already three steps ahead. Every battle, every clash, he calculates everything. Every time we recover, he grows stronger. Every time we fortify, he expands. He swallows land, people, and opportunities like he already knows the future.”

He turned his gaze to the battlefield once more.

“He has wealth, population, land, talent, strategy, and momentum. The entire land sees him as the shining star of this age. How do you fight someone like that?” He whispered. “Someone who moves as though he can see every one of our plans before we make them? Someone whose generals, advisors, soldiers, all act with a unity we cannot match?”

He closed his eyes.

“Father… can only hold him back for so long.”

Cao Pi stared at him, stunned.

Cao Ang opened his eyes again, looking straight into his brother’s.

“Tell me, Pi. If one day either you or I take Father’s place… do you truly think we can defeat Lie Fan?”

Cao Pi clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

He wanted to say yes.

To shout it.

To call Cao Ang a coward, a doubter, a weakling of spirit.

But the words would not come.

Because in the deepest part of him, the part untouched by pride, anger, or the façade of princely dignity, he knew what Cao Ang was saying was true.

They had never once defeated Lie Fan. Not directly. Not indirectly. Not even strategically. Every time they retaliated, Lie Fan’s influence grew. Every time they retreated, his shadow stretched further.

Cao Ang watched the war torn horizon again, the great clash of empires unfolding in distant thunder.

“Pi,” he said softly. “You are the clever one. The thoughtful one. The one born with ambition sharp enough to cut the world.”

Slowly, Cao Pi’s gaze shifted toward him again.

“So tell me honestly,” Cao Ang said, “not as the Second Prince of Wei, not as a son of Cao Cao… but as my younger brother…”

He placed a hand on his brother’s arm, steady and warm.

“…what do you think will happen?”

Cao Pi looked away, as his throat tightened. Because he had no answer. Not one he could voice aloud. Not one he wanted anyone, even himself, to hear.

But the truth hung heavily in the air between them.

Wei was cornered.

Hongnong was bleeding.

Their father was ill.

And Lie Fan was rising like a storm too large for any of them to withstand.

Cao Pi swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “…I don’t know.” Cao Pi then looked away, chest rising and falling with the storm inside him.

Cao Ang hearing that shook his head, his voice almost gentle. “Pi… Hongnong may be the last great wall protecting our dynasty. If it falls… then Father may not live to see another battlefield due to the shock he will have.”

Cao Pi’s fists tightened.

“And if Father dies,” Cao Ang added softly, “our unity dies with him.”

The words hung between them like a blade.

Neither spoke for a long time.

Below, the drums of war thundered. Arrows streaked across the sky. Siege towers creaked and burned. Men lived and died with every passing moment.

Cao Pi finally spoke, his voice hollow.

“Elder brother… do you fear me?”

Cao Ang looked at him with surprising warmth.

“No,” he said. “I fear the world that may force us to become enemies.”

Those words hit harder than any accusation.

Cao Pi’s breath caught in his throat. Because deep down… he knew Cao Ang was right.

Power changed people. Crisis changed people. Dynasties rose and fell not because brothers hated each other, but because circumstances twisted them until hatred was the only path left.

Cao Pi looked out toward the siege once more, expression filled with turmoil.

“We are not there yet,” he said quietly. “And I pray we never will be.”

Cao Ang nodded. “As do I.”

A sudden roar rose from the battlefield, an explosion of sound that shook even the castle stones. Smoke billowed upward from the eastern gate as another wave of Hengyuan soldiers surged forward.

The clash of war raged on, unstoppable, merciless, and indifferent to the worries of princes. And above them both, perched atop the highest roof beam of the castle, two Oriole agents watched the brothers quietly, their identities hidden, their mission clear.

To the southeast of Hongnong, far from the thunder of siege engines and the choking smoke of war, the lands were quiet, almost deceptively so. Yuzhang basked beneath a gentle autumn sun, its rivers glinting gold, its bamboo groves rustling in the cool breeze. Here, the banners of the Sun Clan flew proudly above their mansion, bold as flame and just as unyielding.

Within the mansion’s garden, Sun Jian sat beneath a blooming pear tree, savoring the calm that wartime so rarely afforded him. Lady Wu remained at his side, leaning slightly toward him as she trimmed a cluster of orchids with careful hands. It was a rare quiet day, one without reports, without council meetings, without drillmasters shouting orders in the training yard.

Sun Jian watched her a moment, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Even after all the storms they had weathered, rebellions, campaigns, the deaths of comrades, this garden, and the woman beside him, remained the part of life he treasured most.

He exhaled deeply, letting the tranquility seep into him.

But peace, as always, never lingered long.

A sudden caw carried through the air, sharp against the soft breeze. Sun Jian lifted his head. High above the tiled roofs, a black raven glided in a clean arc, wings catching the sunlight like polished obsidian.

Lady Wu paused mid trim. “A raven?” she murmured. “Here?”

Sun Jian recognized it immediately.

Not an ordinary raven.

One of Lie Fan’s specially trained messengers.

The bird descended with remarkable precision, circling once, twice, before arrowing downward. Sun Jian rose from his seat, extending an arm as naturally as one might greet an old friend.

The raven landed upon his bracer clad forearm with a soft thump, its talons finding firm purchase. A small scroll was bound to its leg with red silk.

Lady Wu’s eyes widened in brief surprise, though she quickly composed herself. She had seen these ravens before, messengers of the throne, symbols of speed and secrecy, but it still startled her to see one swoop down into their private garden.

Sun Jian stroked the raven’s neck gently with his free hand. The creature croaked softly in acknowledgment.

With practiced ease, he untied the scroll. As soon as the silk knot came loose, the raven hopped once, then launched into the air, beating its wings powerfully before disappearing beyond the garden wall.

Lady Wu watched it go. “It seems urgent,” she remarked softly.

Lady Wu observed her husband’s face as he unfolded the small parchment. Sun Jian’s expression remained unreadable for a heartbeat… then his lips curved. His brows rose slightly before he suddenly let out a loud, unrestrained laugh, deep, full, the kind that vibrated in the chest.

Lady Wu blinked, startled. Sun Jian’s laugh was bold and thunderous in battle, but here in the garden, softened by the scent of blooming lotus and the quiet rustle of leaves, it felt out of place. “What on earth could possibly make you laugh like that?”

“It’s a letter from His Majesty,” Sun Jian said, still chuckling. “And a rather large piece of news I have been expecting since the moment Bofu, Zhongmou, and Xiang returned. Along with the moment Ma Chao and the Imperial Army left to return to Xiapi.”

Lady Wu blinked. “Anticipating? What matter?”

Sun Jian held up the scroll. “His Majesty writes that Ma Chao approached him. Immediately after the welcoming banquet in Xiapi, in fact.”

Lady Wu leaned forward slightly. “Ma Chao?” she repeated slowly.

“Yes.” Sun Jian smirked. “And he requested something.”

Lady Wu’s eyebrows arched delicately. “What kind of request?” she pressed, stepping closer. “You laugh, but I cannot imagine Lie Fan writes something trivial.”

“No,” Sun Jian agreed, “he never does.” He chuckled again, waving a hand. “Prepare yourself, my love.”

She nodded.

“His Majesty wishes to act as matchmaker,” Sun Jian announced with dramatic flourish. “Between Ma Chao… and our beloved daughter, Shangxiang.”

Lady Wu’s eyes widened so fast Sun Jian almost laughed again. “What?” she gasped. “Ma Chao… and Shangxiang? That Ma Chao?!” She shot to her feet, nearly dropping the orchids she had been trimming. She crossed to Sun Jian’s side in a hurry, immediately reaching for the scroll. He handed it over with no resistance.

______________________________

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