Chapter 863

Lü Bu was thoroughly subdued, his subordinates scattered everywhere, his power utterly gone, leaving only himself alone. Especially after joining Huang Zhong's ranks as a lowly soldier and deeply interacting with these grassroots troops, feeling their fanatical worship of Wang Yan, he completely abandoned any hope of rising again.

With this weight lifted, he better integrated himself, sensing the differences in Wang Yan's army. He was brave but lacked strategy; though he had once commanded tens of thousands of troops, his strategic awareness was poor, yet his basic military literacy remained strong—even surpassing most of Wang Yan's men.

After carefully observing for some time, he concluded that Wang Yan, this great rebel, truly could seize the empire.

Upon enlistment, soldiers were issued cotton coats, cotton boots, gloves, and hats, complete with standardized military armor, adjusted to a snug fit by quartermaster apprentices. Rations were also plentiful: various pickled vegetables, chicken, duck, and goose eggs daily, meat soup every day, meat once a week, ample with oil. Basic training provided two meals a day; high-intensity training provided three. A complete leave system and demobilization system were in place.

All this pointed to one thing: formidable logistical capacity.

Another point was that these soldiers were exceptionally fierce, especially those from Liaodong—they had served under Wang Yan the longest, formed formations the longest, trained to the point of death, let alone in battle, their combat power was immense.

Even the Youzhou troops, who had formed formations far more recently, after two years had already integrated into the army, becoming fiercely formidable from within.

This was not all: the army enforced mass literacy, from the highest-ranking campaign scribes down to the lowest squad leaders, layer upon layer forcing ordinary soldiers to learn characters, studying every night. Each squad of ten or so men also practiced coordinated battlefield maneuvers, tightly cooperating. According to Lü Bu's estimate, in a life-or-death scenario, Wang Yan's squad could fight off twenty to thirty of his former Bingzhou troops.

At the level of squad leader and deputy squad leader, it was no easier. They had to read and write well, understand policies thoroughly, and participate in tactical training organized by the military affairs office. They had to learn tactical awareness, cooperation between squads, and how to reorganize and enter the battlefield autonomously without a company commander.

At the higher level of company commander, they had to study advanced knowledge at the Commandant's office, cultivate higher combat literacy and tactical awareness, learn methods of troop command, and begin taking management and ideological courses.

This was a tightly structured military promotion system and officer selection method. Battle merit was certainly a criterion, but other factors were even more important.

Lü Bu assessed himself: if he couldn't fight, he wouldn't rise in Wang Yan's ranks. But those who could fight would certainly rise. After all, this was an army, and now it was the age of cold weapons—if you could fight, and lead others to fight, amplifying their effectiveness, you would rise.

All this made Lü Bu settle down in the army, obeying the orders of squad leaders he could kick to death...

Wang Yan also met Lü Bu's wife and children, and of course, Diaochan—she was indeed beautiful, naturally alluring, her figure graceful; no wonder Lü Bu couldn't forget her.

But he merely looked, with no other thoughts—purely curious. Though concubines were still tools of social exchange at this time, General Wang was a gentleman; though he'd done many rotten things, he wouldn't do this particular rotten thing—he wasn't a noble clan.

Besides, he had many wives already—one for each day of the month, from the first to the last, all women cultivated by great families, each stunningly beautiful, each highly cultured; Diaochan simply had a different kind of charm.

After meeting Diaochan, Wang Yan spoke with Lü Bu about Wang Yun's chain scheme. The answer he received was somewhat unexpected, because Lü Bu knew.

Lü Bu said that after killing Dong Zhuo and after Wang Yun died, Diaochan told him everything. And after killing Dong Zhuo, Lü Bu himself had already realized the truth. But he never pursued Wang Yun or blamed Diaochan—because he himself had wanted to kill Dong Zhuo.

When his fellow townsman Li Su persuaded him to kill Ding Yuan and submit a token of loyalty, Lü Bu took Dong Zhuo as his adoptive father—and from that moment, he had wanted to kill Dong Zhuo. For the same reason he killed Ding Yuan: ambition. He certainly didn't want a father above him.

But now Lü Bu's ambition had been crushed; he deeply respected Wang Yan. Wang Yan expressed his satisfaction...

Dong Zhuo's death, as Wang Yan had foreseen, greatly affected the Bingzhou situation. Han Sui and Ma Teng, who had planned to attack Wang Yan, upon hearing of Dong Zhuo's death and Li Jue and Guo Si seizing Chang'an, ceased their advance and instead turned toward Chang'an.

Afterwards, Han Sui was sent to Jin Chengjun, while Ma Teng stationed his troops at Mei County—the very place where Dong Zhuo had built the Meiwu fortress.

In truth, they also noticed Wang Yan had not expanded further after capturing Yenmen—he merely built roads and bridges, repaired water conservancy, resettled refugees, and promoted production.

This made them feel no threat; after all, he hadn't swept across vast territories, hadn't reached their doorsteps, so although they took him seriously, they unconsciously relaxed.

It was because Wang Yan's expansion seemed slow, making them believe they still had time. And since they had never truly fought Wang Yan, their soldiers had never truly fought in battle, they had no understanding of his actual combat strength.

On the other hand, Wang Yan's expansion truly was slow. Since his rebellion began over eight years ago, he had only captured part of Youzhou and part of Bingzhou—a paltry achievement for a force capable of conscripting three hundred thousand troops.

Of course, this was how the warlords saw it—they didn't count the outer territories, or considered them wastelands, useless, and thus ignored them entirely.

But in reality, the entire Northeast had now been brought under his rule, extending as far north as the southern slopes of the Greater Khingan Range as known two thousand years later, with the entire Northeast Plain secured.

Fuyu and Goguryeo had been driven east of the Changbai Mountains, forced to survive in the hills, with many continuously fleeing to live under Wang Yan's rule. Their livelihoods consisted of cultivating small plots of land, fishing and hunting, gathering mountain goods and herbs, trapping wild animals, and exchanging them at designated markets for General's Money, which they then used to purchase necessities.

Their savings were all General's Money, tightly controlled.

In this process, they still had to submit as vassals and pay annual tribute of substantial goods—neither side dared utter a word of complaint. They knew well: they lived only because killing them yielded less than the cost, not because they couldn't be killed. In other words, Wang Yan didn't care enough to bother.

In truth, their populations were already small—never large to begin with—and over these years had been slaughtered, driven out, absorbed, and merged; what remained were mostly nobles and their powerful slaves, totaling perhaps twenty to thirty thousand at best. At this time, Goguryeo was not yet the Goguryeo of four hundred years later, which would trouble the Central Plains with sixty thousand troops—crushing them was effortless.

From start to finish, Wang Yan had never fought a single major battle against Fuyu or Goguryeo—he had merely terrified them into trembling, yet they dared not surrender. Because they knew Wang Yan's policy: there was no place for them. Otherwise, they would have surrendered long ago—who wants to live in constant fear?

It was precisely by absorbing their populations and continuously relocating civilians there that he expanded his territory across the entire Northeast Plain.

Besides the Northeast Plain, there was the steppe territory. After two years of subduing Goguryeo and Fuyu, Liao Hua had been attacking the steppe every winter.

Over these years, they had pushed out over a thousand li, controlling half the steppe.

Wang Yan's strongest force was actually Liao Hua's Elite Cavalry Regiment, consistently maintained at full strength of over six thousand. High-intensity combat claimed lives every year—hundreds at least, up to a thousand.

The Elite Cavalry Regiment's service system was also the most unique. To this day, it no longer recruited directly from civilians but selected reinforcements from other units. After three years of service, soldiers returned to their original units to continue serving, continuously elevating the cavalry combat effectiveness of other units.

The reason it wasn't expanded was simply that too many cavalry were useless—he wasn't in a hurry and didn't want to wage annihilation campaigns against the Xianbei like Emperor Wu of Han had against the Xiongnu. Besides, the current Xianbei were no match for the Xiongnu. Even the remnants of the Southern Xiongnu, still clinging to southern Bingzhou, were no threat—Liao Hua had long since driven them off.

Currently, all cavalry under his control numbered around twenty thousand, less than one-third of his total forces. This number was sufficient—no need for more cavalry, which consumed too much and wasn't cost-effective. To counter cavalry, he had specialized weapons like hook-sickles, and even trained a contingent of heavy infantry. Combined arms coordination and mutual suppression were essential military fundamentals.

Moreover, his overall grand strategy was: build high walls, stockpile grain, delay proclaiming kingship, and slowly pursue the empire—steady, methodical advancement. Large-scale wars would likely be only a few, as they would be enemies' desperate last stands. He didn't need vast numbers of troops—he needed enough, and he needed to hold onto victory.

To strike the steppe, Liao Hua leading the Elite Cavalry Regiment in Mobile Corps Commander warfare was sufficient. Now, Liao Hua's Mobile Corps Commander tactics were masterful—he deeply understood raiding and harassment. The Xianbei knew that once winter came, Liao Hua would strike; they naturally organized tribal defenses in advance. But it was useless—Liao Hua knew the terrain better than they did, his combat experience was too rich, and tactically, the Xianbei simply couldn't compete.

Even though they knew Liao Hua was coming and did organize counterattacks, they still couldn't win. Every winter, many Xianbei tribes vanished. Their food was destroyed, their men killed, and the surviving women and children either died or were forced to flee to other tribes.

In contrast, the Xianbei who had fully submitted to Wang Yan's rule had fixed, vast pastures, and special grasslands reserved for silage, with agricultural doctors researching grass species. Brick-and-tile barns for cattle, sheep, and horses protected them from wind and rain. Dedicated veterinarians studied livestock diseases. Every ting had a market where they could buy necessities they could afford.

There were also schools—children from each county studied characters, read books, and trained in martial arts together. Each year they only paid a small fee for their children's food and drink—so cheap that selling a few sheep covered it.

They had even developed powdered milk—cow's milk could be turned into powder, mixed with hot water, tasting just like milk. When mothers lacked breast milk, powdered milk could substitute, making it extremely popular. Whoever raised dairy cows and delivered milk to the factory immediately received a good sum of money.

Moreover, every winter, when snow blocked the roads, the army patrolled the steppe, helping disaster-stricken families and driving away vicious wolves.

They could eat their own meat, spend winter days in houses with bright glass windows, lying on scorching heated brick beds, no longer worrying about how to survive the long winter.

Of course, the Xianbei on the other side had no idea what life was like here. But Wang Yan was cunning—he ordered the formation of a Xianbei trading caravan specifically to trade with the other side, selling their goods and promoting the benefits of his rule.

At first, traders were killed—tribal chieftains despised them, and Wang Yan deliberately chose men who would die. Put yourself in their shoes—if he were a chieftain, he'd kill them too.

After all, I've been crushed by Wang Yan, heard that even chieftains who surrendered couldn't live, yet Wang Yan dares send people here saying how good their side is and how bad ours is—how could that be allowed? How infuriating! If you didn't kill them, your mind wouldn't be at peace—you couldn't sleep.

People couldn't be killed for nothing. After the entire caravan was wiped out and goods seized, that winter Liao Hua slaughtered the tribe and several neighboring ones—brutal methods, no surrender accepted.

The next time they went, the caravan was perfectly safe.

On the other hand, because Wang Yan had blockaded the steppe, allowing only his own traders to operate, and because the steppe lacked supplies, combined with the threat of slaughter, the caravans traveled deep into the steppe smoothly—selling goods, promoting policies, explaining how good life was, and simultaneously mapping the steppe, contributing immensely.

Thanks to their propaganda, many steppe herders—or rather, slaves, who were the property of tribal chieftains—killed their chieftains and defected to Wang Yan.

Others waited until Liao Hua arrived at their doorstep and then surrendered.

As for the remaining Xianbei chieftains attempting to unite and attack Wang Yan, they lacked a leader capable of organizing such massive force. Moreover, due to Wang Yan's blockade, their logistics were weak, their weapons and armor insufficient—they couldn't muster comparable strength.

Furthermore, Wang Yan had retained many Xianbei men—they all had weapons and warhorses. If fully mobilized, Wang Yan wouldn't even need to summon troops from other regions; these surrendered Xianbei could field fifty thousand cavalry. This was already after screening—only those meeting standards were allowed on the battlefield. If fighting continued, Liaodong could raise one hundred thousand troops, Youzhou could raise one hundred thousand—enough to pierce through the steppe.

Of course, this was idealized—supply lines stretching over a thousand li and attacks from other enemies still had to be considered. But the meaning was clear: Wang Yan was not afraid of large-scale warfare. He simply cherished his people's strength and grain.

Thus, he also possessed vast lands on the steppe.

Covering vast territories of the Northeast Plain, Liu Youzhou, and the grasslands, Wang Yan had been raising troops since 184, and by today, 192, after eight years of steady expansion, he firmly controlled these regions—his rate of development was by no means slow.

But the warlords knew nothing of this; their caravans could not reach so vast an area, and they dared not ask questions. The people under Wang Yan's rule were highly vigilant—talk too much, and you'd be bound and handed over to the authorities. His forces were formidable: a single shout from a village could summon dozens of armed men, terrifying in number.

Dong Zhuo's death brought changes to the situation, yet no major battles erupted, leaving Guo Jia slightly disappointed. He had mastered the Dragon-Slaying Art, yet had no chance to use it; each day he merely performed the duties of Governor of Yanmen, worse than serving as an attendant in the General's mansion. There, he could access all information—reviewing every dataset, he could instantly see how far his domain had developed.

Yet in his idle moments, he had reflected: he realized the General's timing in military moves was always critical, and his chosen locations were always excellent.

At first, he raised troops and seized Liaodong, when the Yellow Turbans were still uncrushed and Liaodong was remote and ignored. Though local magnates, officials, and Wuhuan tribes organized resistance, their hard power was far inferior. Two night raids—five thousand against twenty thousand—laid the foundation for his dominance in Liaodong.

Then Emperor Liu Hong died, and Wang Yan swiftly advanced to Linyu. During the coalition's campaign against Dong Zhuo, he seized all of Liu Youzhou. This time, he advanced into Bingzhou; everyone expected multiple large battles, yet in reality, only Tai Shi Ci fought for a month to capture Yanmen Pass.

To this day, the Grand General's maneuvers can be summed up in two words: seamless. He encountered no resistance and fought not a single hard battle.

Wang Yan did not know what Guo Jia was thinking; if he did, he would likely just laugh it off.

Because it was never easy—if he had not been strong, that first night raid against twenty thousand would have ended him. Later, Gongsun Du's coalition launched multi-pronged attacks—if he had not been strong, he would have been finished. Even earlier, without his strength, even if he had raised hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians, he could never have sustained them—they would have collapsed long ago.

He alone, by his own strength, laid the foundation that brought him to today, with a handful of civil ministers and generals now at his command…

That day, Wang Yan was routinely handling affairs in the General's study. Winter had arrived; statistics needed compiling, winter preparations required completion, production activities demanded coordination—all of it was no easy task, far from the simple comfort of wife, children, and a warm bed.

A bodyguard reported, interrupting the Grand General's work. Soon after, Zhen Sheng, an early key figure long absent, entered.

"Sheng greets the General," Zhen Sheng bowed respectfully.

Wang Yan waved his hand, signaling him to sit, and asked with a smile: "What brings Meng Guang here?"

Zhen Sheng placed a letter on the table and pushed it forward: "Han Sui sent an envoy with a letter, seeking trade and reconciliation. He also mentioned the cotton planted years ago in Gumo, saying the harvest was abundant and already used to warm his troops—very effective. He wishes to sell surplus cotton and asks whether the General still honors his earlier promise."

As he spoke, Wang Yan finished reading the letter, then paused and asked: "Where is the envoy?"

"Currently lodged at the guesthouse."

Wang Yan nodded and ordered: "Bring him to me."

"Yes, General."

Zhen Sheng bowed, then turned and left to make arrangements…