Chapter 828

"Big brother, you absolutely cannot go down; this brat has great strength—don't risk yourself."

On the city wall, Liu Bei and his two companions stood beside a tall, muscular man with a handsome, imposing appearance clad in armor. Hearing Wang Yan's words from below, before Liu Bei could speak, Zhang Chouzui blurted out first.

He certainly knew Wang Yan had spared his life earlier and returned his weapon, showing no intent to kill them, and he knew he was likely no match for Wang Yan. Thus, his words to Liu Bei acknowledged Wang Yan's strength—but who was he? He wasn't just Zhang Chouzui; he was Zhang Zuiying, the man who never backed down.

So after advising Liu Bei, he naturally shouted down at the city walls: "Wang Yan, you brat, don't get cocky! Let your grandpa fight you three hundred rounds!"

Wang Yan merely shook his head and smiled, saying nothing. He thought to himself: beating one hand into a pig's foot wasn't enough—next time, I'll turn this little black brat into a pig's head.

Liu Bei waved his hand and said: "Third brother, Wang Yan didn't intend to kill you last time. Since you're outmatched, you should strive to improve—why speak such vile words? If you fight again and Wang Yan shows no mercy, how will you dare to boast?"

The handsome man beside him asked curiously: "Brother Xuan De, are you acquainted with this bandit?"

"Not to hide it from you, Brother, three months ago in Zhuo Commandery, during the suppression of unrest, my third brother Yide fought him and lost his weapon in a single clash, then was kicked off his horse. At that time, he had three hundred men, while I had five hundred. Because of his strength, we avoided battle and let him go. He was born a common peasant, and then claimed he intended to establish himself in Liaodong, ensuring every commoner ate fish and meat daily, never letting the powerful oppress the people. Now I think of it, it still sounds like delusional nonsense—utterly impossible. Yet only three months later, he has already grown this powerful."

"Brother, you know yesterday I suffered heavy losses fighting his troops—his soldiers are far superior to the Yellow Turbans we faced before. In the more than ten battles across Ji and Qing provinces, my two brothers and I led five hundred to defeat three thousand, one thousand to defeat five thousand. Yet yesterday, three thousand fought six thousand, and though we crushed his Elite Guards, we ourselves lost over half our men. He commands thirty thousand troops and controls a hundred thousand civilians—orders are obeyed, movements are disciplined, formations are flawless, with not a single lapse. He is truly a once-in-a-generation genius…"

Liu Bei called him "brother," speaking with great intimacy—who else could it be but the County Magistrate of Zhuoxian, Gongsun Zan? The two had studied together since childhood under Master Lu Zhi, sharing a dormitory where they'd fart and grind their teeth in unison.

Gongsun Zan had always taken care of Liu Bei; indeed, in Liu Bei's rise to power, Gongsun Zan played a crucial role. He invited Liu Bei to join the campaign against Zhang Chun, supported him at the alliance of warlords against Dong Zhuo, introduced him to the assembly, and secured Liu Bei a seat at the very end as the Eighteenth Warlord—all of which were vital for the early Liu Bei.

At any time, to accomplish anything, one must have reputation. In the Three Kingdoms era, people sought out famous scholars to praise and elevate them. These "famous scholars" were roughly equivalent to today's public intellectuals. Cao Cao's appraisal as "a capable minister in peaceful times, a treacherous villain in chaotic times" came from Xu Shao of Ruyang. Or like Kong Rong giving up pears, his family loudly promoted him to build his fame.

The Han Dynasty practiced the System of Recommendations, where local officials nominated candidates: prefectures recommended filial and incorrupt officials, provinces recommended men of outstanding talent.

Any system is positive in its early stages, but over time, it becomes controlled by powerful clans. With a reputation and family connections, one could be directly recommended as a filial and incorrupt official and enter office. Put bluntly, everyone just bragged, then rode family ties straight into officialdom…

Hearing Liu Bei's words, Gongsun Zan remained unconvinced. He was petty, arrogant, and looked down on peasant farmers. Wang Yan was born a common peasant—not even from a humble family, probably couldn't even read a few characters—what genius could he possibly be?

But inwardly he thought this, outwardly he showed nothing: "What do you intend to do, Xuan De?"

"He invited me to meet him outside the city—I shall go and hear what he has to say." Liu Bei waved his hand to his two brothers. "Second brother, third brother, don't worry. Last time we met on the battlefield, how can we now hide behind these walls? If you're uneasy, come with me."

This was, of course, calculated. He himself dared not go down alone—Wang Yan's army surrounded the city; if he was taken under the pretense of reunion, all his efforts would be wasted. He knew Guan Yu and Zhang Fei wouldn't let him go alone—so they'd all go together. He'd be safe, his brothers would think him thoughtful and considerate of their concerns, and the other officers, including Gongsun Zan, would see Liu Xuande as a fearless man—truly one move, multiple gains.

"Then I shall go with Xuan De and see what this Huang Jin leader is truly like."

Gongsun Zan flung his cloak aside and ordered his troops to march out of the city.

The southern gate of Lingshi opened wide, and over a thousand cavalry and infantry marched out, banners bearing the Gongsun name. Gongsun Zan led the way, Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei followed. The four rode forward until they halted two meters before Wang Yan. Gongsun Zan and Liu Bei stood in front, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei on either side, gripping their weapons tightly, ready for battle. The small black brat, with his leopard head and ringed eyes, was furious—meeting Wang Yan's smiling gaze, he longed to stab him dead right then.

Liu Bei bowed respectfully and smiled warmly: "Ziyan, it's only been three months since we parted in Zhuoxian—yet you've achieved such grandeur. Truly a genius."

Wang Yan returned the bow: "Xuan De flatters me. It was merely the chaos of the Yellow Turbans, the people suffering. Those who offered grain to save lives naturally drew crowds. May I ask who this is beside you?"

Without needing Liu Bei's introduction, Gongsun Zan tilted his head haughtily and sneered: "I am Gongsun Zan, Magistrate of Zhuoxian. No more talk—what do you want?"

Liu Bei, fearing Wang Yan would kill his beloved senior, quickly added: "This is my senior brother, who studied with me under Master Lu since childhood, sharing a bed. Now he carries orders from the Governor of Youzhou to stop your rebellion in Youzhou. I ask you, Ziyan—why did you invite me out of the city?"

Attitude depends on strength. If Liu Guan Zhang hadn't suffered defeat, they wouldn't have been hiding behind walls—they'd have charged out and chased Wang the General down.

Wang Yan didn't bother with Gongsun Zan. Had he not cared about his reputation, he'd have speared the brat dead right then. The Three Kingdoms without Liu Guan Zhang would be incomplete—but without Gongsun Zan? No matter.

But he had to think ahead. If he killed Gongsun Zan today, future invitations to enemy commanders for talks or surrender would be ignored—so he'd spare Gongsun Zan's life.

Later, when he controls Liaodong and Gongsun Zan holds most of Youzhou, they'll have plenty of battles left—Gongsun Zan won't die so easily.

As for Gongsun Zan's troops blocking him, he wasn't surprised. His reasons were much the same as Liu Guan Zhang's. Moreover, Gongsun Zan's hometown was Lingshi—he'd killed his way here through powerful clans. Naturally, he feared for his family's safety and volunteered to defend the city.

"Xuan De speaks plainly, so I'll be direct. You know I intend to establish myself in Liaodong—attacking fortresses and capturing counties is only for grain and supplies. Liaodong is cold and barren; by September, it's frozen solid. If I don't prepare early, my soldiers and civilians will freeze and starve to death—a human tragedy. Yet though I've taken fortresses and cities, I've harmed no civilians. I've left surplus grain, only seizing justice from corrupt officials and powerful clans—this is my Dao."

"Now I lead my army northward, and you block me. Yesterday you fought us and killed hundreds of my brothers. I won't hold it against you. Return my captured soldiers, and I'll immediately withdraw without touching Lingshi."

Gongsun Zan snorted: "And if we don't?"

He was the military commander of this city defense—only he could decide whether to release the prisoners.

Wang Yan looked at him and smiled: "My brothers and I are all peasant farmers—we're not good at sieges. But in this western Liaodong region, there's still grain. If you don't return my soldiers, I'll besiege but not attack. I won't go to Liaodong—I'll settle here in western Liaodong, fortify my positions, clear the land, plunder all the people, train the strong, and turn toward Youzhou. Lingshi isn't wealthy—can your six thousand troops survive three months on its remaining grain? When that time comes, if I capture you alive, I'll flay your skin and stuff it with straw."

"Or if you don't understand, let me explain: I'll completely peel off your skin, stitch it with needle and thread, fill it with dry straw, then hang it from the city gate as a warning…"

Flaying and stuffing with straw was invented by Zhu Yuanzhang—nowadays, flaying existed, but stuffing with straw did not.

Hearing Wang Yan say "flay," Gongsun Zan's face turned pale. When Wang Yan explained exactly how the process worked, Gongsun Zan turned redder than Guan Yu's face, his eyes wider than Zhang Fei's.

Before Wang Yan could continue, in a flash of lightning, Gongsun Zan raised his spear and lunged straight for Wang Yan's head—truly an insult.

Wang Yan laughed loudly, swung his horse spear once, and knocked the spear aside. Then he surged with force, shaking the shaft so it bent into an arc—the spearhead instantly snapped back toward Gongsun Zan's head. Had it struck true, Gongsun Zan would have been finished.

But Liu Guan Zhang were present, and Guan Yu and Zhang Fei had already prepared to strike Wang Yan. Guan Yu, standing beside Gongsun Zan, narrowed his eyes and in an instant raised his Green Dragon Crescent Blade to deflect the spear. On the other side, the small black brat thrust his Eight-Foot Snake Spear straight at Wang Yan's chest with a roar. Liu Bei reacted swiftly too—his twin swords clanged from their scabbards, aimed at Wang Yan's red-maned steed.

All this happened in the blink of an eye. Gongsun Zan's face still bore shock—he thought for a moment he was already dead.

Wang Yan reined his horse back, dodging Zhang Fei's attack. His four-meter spear spun around his neck, sweeping with immense force, striking all four men backward, forcing them to rein in and pull back five to six meters apart.

Zhang Fei roared again and charged forward, spear poised to strike. Wang Yan's expression didn't change—he waved his hand to his restless troops behind him, signaling them not to intervene, then effortlessly parried the spear. His spear spun in a circle, shifting direction, aiming straight for Zhang Fei's head—its momentum like thunder, speed lightning-fast. Zhang Fei barely managed to pull back his spear and block.

At that moment, Wang Yan changed tactics, sweeping horizontally to sever Zhang Fei's arm. Zhang Fei had to retreat one hand, gripping the spear with only one and thrusting forward, shifting from defense to offense. Instantly, Wang Yan raised his spear to block, then reversed the shaft, swinging the butt end like a club—striking Zhang Fei so hard he reeled, dazed and in agony. Then came a thrust forward—the sharp tip of the spear butt pierced through armor, making Zhang Fei scream in pain. Wang Yan switched again, swinging the spearhead sideways, sending the small black brat flying off his horse, weapon falling from his grasp, rolling on the ground.

Before Guan Yu and Zhang Fei could react, Zhang Fei had already been knocked from his horse. Suddenly, the troops of the Heavenly Martial General behind Wang Yan roared "Weiwu!" and drummers began pounding their drums, cheering for the General.

"Third brother!"

Liu Bei and Guan Yu both gasped. In the next instant, Guan Yu spurred his horse and swung his blade down in a deadly arc. Liu Bei saw Zhang Fei was still alive, struggling to rise—he knew Wang Yan had held back again. He turned to Gongsun Zan: "Brother, hold the line. Watch as my three brothers fight him."

Saying this, he spurred his horse forward, dual swords in hand, shouting: "Second brother, I'll assist you!" He rode straight into battle with Wang Yan.

Seeing his two elder brothers locked in combat with the bandit, Zhang Fei gritted his teeth, rose painfully, checked his injuries—none were fatal. He picked up his spear, dirt-covered and grimy, scrambled back onto his horse, eyes blazing like a starving ghost, roaring: "Wang bandit, how dare you humiliate me so? I'll take your life!"

The three surrounded Wang Yan, circling and clashing like a spinning wheel—watching troops on both sides stared in stunned silence.

Wang Yan, trapped at the center, wielded his spear like a whirlwind—front spear parried, rear shaft defended, spinning in circles, effortlessly. Even the General himself thought: this scene is exactly like the Three Heroes battling Lü Bu at Hulao Pass.

Originally, Gongsun Zan fought Lü Bu first, nearly dying, then Zhang Fei rushed to save him, then Guan Yu joined, and finally Liu Bei arrived—the three brothers together fought Lü Bu.

Now, Gongsun Zan looked down on General Wang, who provoked him with his words, causing Gongsun Zan to strike first. Guan Yu came to protect Gongsun Zan. Because he lost last time, Zhang Fei was unconvinced, charging in to fight. Only then did Liu Bei and Guan Yu come to assist.

Though the sequence differed, the outcome was nearly identical: all three were being surrounded and beaten by Liu Guan Zhang. He'd stolen Lü Bu's glory, but the General felt no discomfort. In the future, as Liu Guan Zhang wander the land, their fame grows—so too will mine. Perhaps even heroes will come to join me.

Some say that if Liu Bei were absent, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei's combined strength would be greater—he held them back. But now, as Wang the General was surrounded, he clearly saw their strengths: Guan Yu was strongest, Zhang Fei second, Liu Bei weakest. Yet even the weakest, Liu Bei's martial skill was still high—he didn't burden Guan Yu or Zhang Fei.

At this moment, the three brothers were not yet at their peak. It was the first year of Zhongping—six years remained until Hulao Pass in the first year of Jianping. During that time, the three brothers endured countless battles, gained immense growth, and sharpened their combat experience.

But Wang Yan now had a clear sense of their strength. After all, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei were among the top fighters of the Three Kingdoms—even now, fresh from obscurity, they were no ordinary men.

Right now, he had the ability to kill Liu Guan Zhang—but he'd likely take a slash or a stab in return. In short, he wouldn't die. This was because they surrounded him, leaving him no rear defense—"protecting the head but neglecting the rear." But if they charged head-on in open battle, all three would fall in one strike. With his swift steed, if he had even two extra seconds to face one alone, all three would be dead.

Besides, he truly had no intention to kill them—without Liu Bei, there'd be no Three Kingdoms. Yet he didn't hold back either, especially against Zhang Fei—the small black brat had been knocked from his horse multiple times, covered in wounds, even punched in the nose up close.

Zhang Fei kept getting knocked down but kept getting up, roaring fiercely to fight Wang Yan to the death—he had truly been beaten into a pig, and Wang Da, the great general, always kept his word.

After half an hour of clanging combat, Wang Yan once again struck Xiao Heizi flying, swept his blade horizontally and broke away from the fray. He breathed heavily, glanced at Zhang Fei lying on the ground like a dead pig, staring blankly at the blue sky and white clouds, utterly broken, and chuckled. Then he spoke to Liu Bei and Guan Yu, both gasping for air.

"I have no intention of killing your three brothers. Let this end for now. Gong Sun, my son, come forward and speak."

Gongsun Zan's eyes turned red with rage, his molars grinding as if ready to shatter, yet he did not trade insults with Wang Yan. Having traveled with them this far, he knew well the martial prowess of Liu, Guan, and Zhang. Having watched the battle for a while longer, he now understood Wang Yan's terrifying combat strength. If he were in Wang Yan's place, he could not have held out for half a minute, let alone three breaths.

Moreover, Wang Yan's army had surrounded them—the entire force sent to crush the Yellow Turbans—inside the city. Fifteen thousand troops encircled them tightly, leaving them utterly at the mercy of the butcher's knife and cutting board.

In truth, had Gongsun Zan not looked down on Wang Yan, this fight would never have happened. Seeing him ride closer, Wang Yan said: "Though I do not know how many troops Liu Youzhou commands, I know that Yellow Turbans plague Youzhou, Ji, Qing, and Xu. I estimate it will take three to five months before reinforcements can be mobilized."

"And three or two thousand troops, without generals like Liu, Guan, and Zhang to lead them, pose no real threat. If your reinforcements do not arrive within three months, I will raise all the troops of Liaoxi—another thirty thousand. At that point, even if I do not seek to take Youzhou, I will have no choice but to do so. I am not threatening you. If you refuse, when the city falls, you will die without a grave. If you agree to my terms and release my brothers, I keep my word—I will lead my army north immediately."

Gongsun Zan snorted: "So you'll just burn, kill, and plunder your way through?"

Wang Yan laughed heartily: "You have two choices. One: I kill you all, then burn, kill, and plunder my way to Liaodong. Two: I burn, kill, and plunder my way to Liaodong directly. The killings I've committed? Only against corrupt officials and tyrannical clans—people who deserve death. What's wrong with that? You permit yourselves to oppress the people and seize their property, yet you forbid me from retaliating and killing them? What logic is that? Gong Sun, my son, stop wasting words—what will you do?"

Gongsun Zan's nose nearly twisted off from rage, but Wang Yan laid out facts and spoke reasonably. He was right. Wang Yan might lack channels, but Gongsun Zan and the others knew well: though the main battlefield saw the Yellow Turbans retreating, their numbers still reached hundreds of thousands. Lü Bu once said, even if you had tens of thousands of pigs, your army couldn't capture them that fast. Large Huang Jin bands numbered tens of thousands, small ones hundreds or thousands—they spread devastation far and wide. The Han army simply could not resolve this crisis in the short term.

Yet Liu Bei said Wang Yan had grown from three hundred to thirty thousand troops and one hundred thousand civilians in just three months. If Wang Yan truly remained in Liaoxi and ravaged Youzhou, how many troops would the Han army face when its main force finally arrived? Moreover, Wang Yan possessed talent in training and commanding troops—he would not be easily defeated.

Most crucially, if they refused to cooperate now, Wang Yan would truly besiege the city, and they had no way to stop him. When they came, they thought this so-called Heavenly Martial General was nothing but a rabble of clay dogs and paper tigers, convinced five thousand could crush thirty thousand and cut off Wang the bandit's head. Yet after just one battle, they were left bruised and battered. Though they technically won, Wang Yan had more men—they simply couldn't win. The city's grain supply lasted only two months; even after looting the people, it might stretch to four. They truly couldn't hold out.

Besides, Wang Yan was planning to skin them and stuff them with straw—what choice did Gongsun Zan have? So even if he had become Wang the bandit's son, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and accept it. He immediately ordered the battered Liu Bei to release the hundreds of captured Yellow Turbans.

In truth, Liu, Guan, and Zhang were all in poor condition. Zhang Fei was by far the worst—he was still groaning on the ground from Wang Yan's beating. Liu Bei and Guan Yu weren't much better; they hadn't been unhorsed, but Wang Yan had landed several brutal surprise blows. As they spoke, their wounds swelled and throbbed with pain.

After a while, the city's defenders drove out several hundred captives. Watching them reach their own army's distant lines, Wang Yan bowed to Liu Bei: "I keep my word—I'm heading north now. Xuan De, I have one thing to say—listen well. The empire is not your Liu family's alone. You speak of restoring the Han, yet eunuchs corrupt the court, and villains fill the halls. Even if you revive the Han, it will be no better than this."

"What is the root? The high clans and powerful families ruin the state. The noble control the government—like the Yuan family of Runan, four generations of Three Excellencies. I hear no record of their service to the state, only that their household servants exceed ten thousand and their fertile fields number in the hundreds of thousands. Lesser clans control local regions—like this city of Lingzhi, where I've heard the Gong Sun clan holds sway. I wonder what relation you bear to Gong Sun, my son? Yet they seize land, collude with officials—deserving death. Is this evil confined to Lingzhi alone?"

"Take you, Xuan De—you hail from Zhuoxian. Gong Sun, my son, is the county magistrate of Zhuo. I believe in your virtue—but can Gong Sun, my son, serve the people? If your virtue is weak and you ally with my son, the Liu family will dominate Zhuoxian. When my son leaves office and a new magistrate arrives, if he is hostile to your Liu family, his orders will be ignored."

"Powerful clans seize land, driving people into displacement—selling children as slaves, selling themselves as servants, fleeing to distant lands to clear new fields. When famine strikes and harvests fail, their land is seized again by the powerful clans."

"Unless this root is severed, even if you revive the Han for another two hundred years, we common peasants will remain as we are today. You may achieve great deeds, be remembered in history, pass down your name—but what of us? Who cares for our suffering?"

"If your goal is to become a general or chancellor, then fine. But if you truly seek to serve us common folk, come to Liaodong and join us in fighting for the people's liberation. I speak no further—think carefully."

"Gong Sun, my son, I await your revenge in Liaodong. We shall fight again."

"I WILL KILL YOU!!!"

Gongsun Zan's eyes bulged with fury.

Yet inwardly, he was stunned by Wang Yan's ambitions. He had heard every word clearly. Whether Wang Yan could succeed or not, at least he dared to speak. This was a common peasant? He spoke with refinement, fought with courage, possessed supreme martial skill, had goals and strategy, understood the situation—was this really a common peasant?

Wang Yan ignored Gongsun Zan's shouts, teased Xiao Heizi a few more times. Seeing the boy now subdued, his mouth no longer defiant, Wang Yan laughed loudly, turned, and walked away—making Zhang Fei and Gongsun Zan alike grit their teeth.

Just as he had come, Wang Yan carried his horseback spear back to camp. Liao Hua helped him remove his armor and changed him into a blue robe. He mounted his horse and led the army away. Fifteen thousand troops, following Wang Yan's orders one after another, marched swiftly. They needed to catch up with the supply column, restore their former formation, and continue smashing fortresses, destroying towns, burning, killing, and plundering.

Gongsun Zan, Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and others stood on the city walls, watching Wang Yan's army depart in silence for a long time.

Until Zhang Fei jolted his wound and cried out in pain. Liu Bei finally snapped back, glancing at him reproachfully: "Third brother, after this fight, you must realize Wang Yan spared your life. Take this as a lesson—remain humble, and you will improve. Wang Yan has both courage and strategy. Next time you meet him, do not be reckless. This time he had no intent to kill—how do you know next time? Had you not charged forward recklessly, would we have been beaten black and blue?"

Saying this, he ignored the pig-faced Zhang Fei and turned to Gongsun Zan, still lost in thought: "Brother, we failed to fulfill the Inspector's orders, nearly lost our lives here—how shall we report back to him?"

"It has nothing to do with you. I am the commanding general—credit and blame rest solely on me. Though we failed to break Wang the bandit, we preserved Lingzhi unharmed—there is still merit. Xuan De, do not worry." Gongsun Zan waved his hand and sighed. "Now we let Wang the bandit go to Liaodong to carve out his own domain—he will surely become a great disaster."

Guan Yu and Zhang Fei exchanged glances. Do we really need you to say that? But seeing each other's bruised, swollen faces, they almost laughed—quickly stifled it.

After a sigh of regret and a silent vow to write Wang the bandit's name on many pages of their little notebooks, Gongsun Zan asked: "Xuan De, Wang the bandit invited you to join him—what is your intention?"

Liu Bei shook his head: "I am of the imperial clan. Though my fortune has faded and my rank is low, I must remain loyal to the Han. I would never betray the Han to join a bandit."

Gongsun Zan gazed far off and sighed: "Observing his actions, listening to his words—if Wang the bandit rises in Liaodong and marches south into the Central Plains, our entire clan will perish. Enough, enough—I am but a minor county magistrate. What can I do…?"

Saying this, he walked away, spirit drained.

Liu, Guan, and Zhang looked at each other, then burst out laughing—at their own bruised, battered, miserable appearances.

Meanwhile, Wang Yan led his army around the eastern hills of Lingzhi, marching in a vast, sprawling column stretching a hundred li.

This time, as they marched, Wang Yan left nothing behind. He had tried to leave Liu Yan some population resources, but the boy didn't understand. So wherever they passed, his troops scattered, storming cities and walled estates, seizing all wealth, and driving out all inhabitants for relocation.

The more people they captured, the more troops they gained, and the more resources they seized. Though food was always scarce, soldiers ate more, civilians ate less—they carried their own belongings anyway. Wang Yan had seized many granaries and storehouses; overall, hunger was bearable. He also sent troops into the mountains to hunt, supplementing the army's provisions.

Yet population was sparse in Liaoxi. After sweeping across most of Liaoxi, he captured only one hundred fifty thousand people—adding to his previous haul, he now had two hundred fifty thousand. This number included males aged seventeen to thirty. His actual fighting force now numbered over sixty thousand.

But along the way, he also did subtraction. More troops were always better, but too many soldiers were of poor quality—useless except for eating and intimidating. So he culled many, reassigning them as militia. Only fifteen thousand were true, qualified professional soldiers—all healthy males aged seventeen to thirty.

The selection method was simple: none were professional warriors, none knew martial forms, so comparison was impossible. They simply marched in full armor with heavy loads, unit by unit. Those eliminated were still tested, ensuring everyone accepted the outcome. Time and energy were abundant—just run. It trained their bodies and filtered soldiers.

Thus, the march remained cheerful. Twenty thousand old, young, and women lagged behind, watching their husbands and sons run themselves to exhaustion—scenes of great spectacle.

Benefits were promised in advance: soldiers who passed selection received three meals daily, with meat broth at lunch at minimum. Wang Yan now enforced a planned economy—all resources were centrally allocated, even villagers' grain had to be surrendered. This ensured the survival of his two hundred fifty thousand people and the maintenance of a strong army. There was no market, no trade—money was useless.

In truth, he now had plenty of money—gold, silver, copper, silk, and cloth, seized in great quantity. But he had nowhere to spend it, no one to trade with. He had looted many merchants—whether local or foreign magnates' branches, he didn't know. He didn't even know how many enemies he'd made along the way.

After all, besides merchants, he had slaughtered countless powerful clans. Some of their descendants, who held office elsewhere, had escaped—and now they all had him, Wang Da, on their minds.

But the problem was manageable. If he could survive this winter, the future would be promising.

Right after selecting his elite troops, Wang Da, fully armed, led his full-strength six-thousand-strong Weiwu Guard to Tuhe, the region that would become Jinzhou two thousand years later.

The remaining troops: Guangwu Guard held the rear, Xingwu Guard guarded the relocated civilians, militia hunted, fished, and cut wood in mountains and seas. The civilians, meanwhile, moved while under their village heads' guidance, seeking fertile land to settle.

This settlement area, according to the map of two thousand years later, stretched from Huludao to Panjin along the Bohai coast. The land was abundant, especially Panjin—now Fangxian—located in the Liao River delta, rich in plains and water, ideal farmland. Later generations would know Panjin rice as famous. As for black soil, it was still held by barbarians—Wang Da would have to fight to take it.

Even Fangxian itself, Wang Yan had to capture. Currently, this region was called the Liaodong Dependency, established by the Western Han for the surrendered Wuhuan. Thus, the area was mostly Wuhuan. Along his march, many of the people he captured were Wuhuan. Two hundred years later, they had become nearly indistinguishable from Han customs. His own soldiers included many Wuhuan.

So the next route was clear: first take Tuhe, then Fangxian, then hold the gains and endure the winter.

Having wandered in this realm for half a year, now, at last, he had found a home…