Chapter 894: Capturing Old Cao Alive

The current battlefield is around Tongguan Town (Tongling City), a region of extensive hills, less than two hundred li from Huang Zhong's other front; Huang Zhong has already taken Wan City and pushed to Jingxian. The stretch of hills between Jingxian and Tongling is the theater of combat.

Originally, the two fronts were separate, but now that Cao Cao has arrived, he has taken command and merged both battlefields into one. The goal is simple: expand the combat zone, thin out troop density, and scatter Wang Yan's attention—Cao Cao still has ideas.

This defeat came on Huang Zhong's front, where the intelligence reported to Wang Yan showed anomalies. Meanwhile, on his own front, the fighting grew tense by afternoon; the enemy's troop deployments suddenly became fluid, rising to a higher level.

General Wang Da paused briefly, then ordered: "Send word to Huang Zhong: advance steadily, do not rush. Also send word to the remaining forces: Cao Cao's reinforcements are coming; attack fiercely but not recklessly—our rear is secure, so remain flexible and adaptive. Nanchang is surely weak now; seek opportunity to slip through secretly, cut off enemy supply lines, and block their retreat. Also send word to the Black Armor Camp: today, march to my position and establish camp. Lastly, order the vanguard: cease fighting today, resume tomorrow."

Hearing Wang Yan's orders, his messengers quickly scribbled notes with charcoal, stamped them with Wang Yan's general seal, and dispatched riders on fast horses to relay the commands to all units.

After completing the arrangements, Wang Yan rested his hand on the eight-sided Han sword at his waist and walked slowly to the riverbank. His bodyguards brought a folding stool and set up a small brazier nearby, drawing water from the Yangtze, lighting a fire to boil water and brew tea.

The water quality now is certainly not an issue—even if poison were dumped upstream, it wouldn't matter, given the vast volume, the long stretch, and the wide area it flows through.

More importantly, the Jiang Nan water system is highly developed; water is abundant, and Cao Cao wouldn't be so foolish.

But if one were truly meticulous, no water is truly drinkable. Even without poison, upstream people still defecate, urinate, bathe, and scrub dirt into it.

Behind them, the troops dismounted, skillfully preparing to set up camp, dig pits, and cook meals—busy yet orderly.

Wang Yan had anticipated Cao Cao would come to face him directly; after all, Cao Cao himself is a capable fighter, and in a war of life and death, he would surely come in person. Moreover, historically, Cao Cao had personally led nearly every campaign, fighting across east, west, south, and north his entire life.

More crucially, the current situation is dire: advance or die. Cao Cao has nowhere to retreat. Shu's terrain is rugged; they secured safety but also crippled their mobility. Besides, attacking Chang'an or Luoyang is pure fantasy. After all, even their surprise attack failed to gain advantage; now that full-scale war has begun and Wang Yan is prepared, where would they find an opening?

And Cao Cao refuses to surrender the south—he still wants to cross the Yangtze. Thus, his only lifeline now lies squarely with Wang Mou. If he can crush Wang Mou, drive him into desperate flight, or even kill him outright, all problems vanish.

He was maneuvering against the enemy commanders precisely to lure Cao Cao here. Cao Cao wants to crush him in one battle; so too does Wang Yan want to resolve everything in one battle—it benefits both sides.

Now that Cao Cao has arrived, his follow-up reinforcements won't come quickly. This is precisely when he is weakest—when else but now to strike?

His arrangements were meant to handle the overall situation, applying indirect pressure to make Cao Cao hesitate. The commanders in Yangzhou are all capable fighters; if any break through to Nanchang, it won't just be Nanchang's problem—it will become Changsha's problem, the problem of the entire Yangtze River line.

Originally stationed at Poyang, Cao Cao had sufficient troops nearby and in Nanchang. In the Dongting region, large garrisons guarded the riverbank, so Changsha was inherently weak, relying solely on troops from Nanchang and Dongting.

Now, under Wang Yan's pressure, Cao Cao has come to the front himself; thus, reinforcing all other fronts becomes inevitable. Consequently, Nanchang's weakness becomes certain, making a direct strike on Changsha possible. Once Changsha is threatened, Dongting's troops must move. Then, riverbank defenses will be insufficient—Wang Yan's forces stockpiled at Jiangling can then cross the river.

Thus, Cao Cao will be completely surrounded, leaving him no chance to think of his sister-in-law. Shu becomes no longer a concern—defensive postures cannot last. Then, after subduing Sun Ce, Shi Xie, and others, the land will be reunified, and a new chapter written.

Wang Yan sipped his tea with a smile, then spat a mouthful of tea leaves into the rushing Yangtze…

"Lord, Wang Yan's troops have not attacked again—today's battle is over." Xu Chu rushed into the tent to report personally.

Cao Cao nodded, thought for a moment, and sighed: "Wang Yan knows I've come—this move is a challenge to decisive battle."

"Lord, retreat."

Xu Chu spoke softly, voicing a thought he'd pondered long.

"Retreat?"

Cao Cao sneered, "Retreat from Changsha today, from Shu tomorrow—where then? Where do we run? A true man acts: advance or be ruined. In this age of fierce contention, I command a million troops—how could I fear this upstart who stumbled into power?"

"Lord, Wang Yan plans with divine skill, commands like a god. The Black Armor Iron Cavalry has yet to deploy, and the riverbank plains are perfect for cavalry charges. Moreover, Wang Yan is a peerless warrior, no less formidable than Xiang Yu. His troops are elite and unstoppable. So far, the forces he's deployed against us number only twenty thousand. He holds terrain advantage, controls ships linking Jiang Nan and Jiangbei, and has limitless grain and manpower. To destroy Wang Yan in one battle is impossible, my lord—please reconsider…"

"Are you afraid of death, Zhongkang?"

"Lord, if my death could secure the realm, no words are needed—I will die gladly, repaying even a fraction of your grace. But Wang Yan's power is overwhelming; death here is useless…"

Since the surprise attack failed and Huang Zhong drove them back a hundred li in a single day, Xu Chu had been thinking this through. After one and a half days of fighting Wang Yan, he felt even more acutely just how formidable Wang Yan was—he truly saw no chance of victory.

Yet they still had vast armies and support from the great clans. Since they couldn't defeat Wang Yan, he'd even considered fleeing beyond the borders to found a kingdom.

Cao Cao, naturally, had thought of this too. He smiled and asked: "Zhongkang, do you favor going beyond the borders?"

"When Wang Yan once retrieved his grain fleet, he spoke of a vast continent east of the sea—fertile land, abundant resources, richer than our Central Plains. He also claimed the ancients' notion of a flat earth was false—that this world is a sphere… If such a world exists, why fight Wang Yan?"

"I hear Han Sui has already clashed with the Kushans and seized a foothold. If Han Sui can do it, why not you? Moreover, all the great clans of the realm are unwelcome here—they have nowhere to go but to join us. I hear India is vast and populous; our armies could sweep through, destroy its kingdom, enslave its people, expand China's borders, spread our civilization—your lordship could even establish a new ancestral temple. Would that not be glorious?"

"Hahahaha…"

Cao Cao threw back his head and laughed so hard it made Xu Chu uneasy, then said: "Zhongkang, your words make sense. But if I can rule China, why would I rule barbarian lands? And now that I'm fighting Wang Yan, how can I simply flee? I govern millions of people and command a million troops—how many could even escape? Wang Yan is already poised, ready to end this in one stroke. Am I not the same?"

"The idea of going beyond the borders can wait until after defeat. Wang Yan has always shown mercy—he may capture me, but he'd still negotiate. Without fighting him, I cannot die in peace. Go now, Zhongkang—send men to dig pits to counter his iron cavalry…"

He gave further orders on troop deployments, dismissed Xu Chu and others to their tasks, then poured himself another drink—his heart was bitter…

Cao Cao still refused to accept defeat. In his words, he would die with eyes open. In his words, even if captured, he could still negotiate with Wang Yan, secure a path to flee beyond the borders and found a kingdom. From start to finish, he never considered his troops or civilians—he cared only for his own ideals.

This was, of course, fine. Everyone back then thought this way. If everyone thought this way, then it was not wrong.

Wang Yan indeed wouldn't kill Cao Cao. Those great clans who wanted to flee, Wang Yan supported—they'd be better off alive than wasted. These men were brilliant, and their capacity for destruction was immense. It's not that Wang Yan looked down on foreigners—he simply knew they were useless, both militarily and intellectually.

As for caring for soldiers and civilians, he has already succeeded: his forces and populace number twenty million. Even in a prolonged war with Cao Cao, he'd eventually gain five or six million more. With this population explosion, after unifying the realm, his total population could surpass thirty million.

But this success rests on a grand historical narrative. When examined at the individual level, it's an endless catastrophe: people frozen or starved to death, people eaten, people driven mad by cannibalism, men who spent their lives fighting, dying white-haired on the battlefield. They all had their suffering, their joys and sorrows—no one cared.

Just as history books record "severe drought," "swarms of locusts," "floods," "earthquakes"—simple phrases representing countless deaths, the cold, unfeeling wheel of history crushing crimson lives.

At dawn the next day, Wang Yan summoned Dian Wei: "Lead your troops into the hills to avoid pits. March toward Qiupu (Chizhou), advance westward—any resistance, smash through."

"Your general's orders are received." Dian Wei rumbled his reply, donned his heavy armor, and turned away.

To fight a large-scale campaign with insufficient troops, Wang Yan added five thousand conscripted militia, bringing his force to twenty thousand. He divided his army into three columns: vanguard, left, and right. He personally led the vanguard.

The two armies were stationed twenty li apart—not far. The winter morning was cold, and brisk marching warmed the blood. These were elite soldiers trained for years by Wang Yan—not the sedentary, unhealthy laborers of two thousand years later.

Though his soldiers were no healthier, bearing various injuries, their professional training ensured they could fully equip themselves and still fight effectively after marching twenty li.

Their movements could not hide from Cao's army, which had already formed battle lines, ready and waiting.

Watching the enemy from afar, General Wang Yan casually slung his weapon over his shoulder, spurred his horse into a light trot, then veered sideways. He knew the enemy would dig pits—that was basic warfare. So he'd simply detour, avoiding needless loss of life. He could also force Cao Cao to strike first, disrupting the enemy's formation and morale.

True to form, seeing Wang Yan circle around, Cao Cao could not wait. Why were they fighting? Precisely to prevent Wang Yan from breaking through—and to hope for his death.

Wang Yan wouldn't charge directly; Cao Cao couldn't just watch him walk past his front—wouldn't that mean certain death? So despite the pits being useless, Cao Cao ordered the attack.

This entire area held his forces; reinforcements hadn't arrived yet, but he'd brought three thousand men with him. Now he had over fifty thousand against Wang Yan's twenty thousand.

The battlefield fell into heavy silence—then war drums boomed, echoing far across the open plains beside the Yangtze. The sun hung high, its bright light revealing the raw essence of humanity.

Wang Yan signaled his flags; the left and right wings spread out to meet Cao's forces. Shouts of battle thundered, arrows blotted out the sky. Every second, men died.

From above, the difference between the two armies would be clear: the battle line steadily pushed toward Cao's side. Death came instantly and visibly—most casualties were Cao's troops. One could plainly see Cao's soldiers growing hesitant, growing afraid.

Even as battlefield fury drove their blood hot and minds clouded, facing death brought moments of clarity. They saw an enemy's blade cleanly sever a man's arm, then turn on them without blinking. They watched comrades fall one by one—even the bullies and thugs from within their own ranks. Combined with the ingrained belief that Wang Yan's army was invincible, even these men, whom Cao Cao claimed were superior to Wang Yan's, felt terror.

On the battlefield, whoever fears dies. As corpses piled up, the army would collapse—even Cao Cao's execution squads had gone mad with killing.

Wang Yan did not stare fixedly at the constantly waving central command flag. He paused briefly to think: given Cao Cao's caution, he might not be there—but then again, whether Cao Cao was there or not didn't really matter.

Shaking his head with a smile, Wang Yan removed the faceplate fixed on his left shoulder and fastened it over his face; his personal guards performed the same action, simultaneously shaking the lances bearing their flags.

Wang Yan wasted no words; with a "Ha!" he spurred his horse forward, leading three thousand cavalry straight toward Old Cao's central command position.

Old Cao was old; the ancients' problems with farsightedness and nearsightedness were still quite common, after all, viewing various things by the dim light of an oil lamp was never that good, and few could maintain healthy eyes into old age.

Besides, a battlefield of seventy or eighty thousand people was too vast; even if one's vision was fine, it was still a struggle to see. So Old Cao could not see the battle situation; it was Xu Chu beside him who reported it to him.

"My Lord, Wang Yan is attacking."

Xu Chu wore the armor of a common soldier; beside him, Old Cao was similarly clad in the armor of an elite common soldier, not the flashy armor of a commander showing off, and he wore no cloak at all...

Old Cao squinted: "Zhongkang, do you have confidence?"

"Xu Chu fears nothing."

Wang Yan's reputation was too loud; Xu Chu dared not brag, yet he did not speak words of despair, for he truly was not afraid. He feared no death, so naturally he feared no Wang Yan.

Having spoken, he fell silent, gazing from afar at the knights piercing through the enemy formation and driving straight in. He knew the one leading the charge was Wang Yan. Watching the invincible courage that sent a man flying with a single thrust of a lance, Xu Chu twitched the corner of his eye, silently brewing his killing blow.

On the other side, Wen Chou said even less; he was dressed as a common soldier as well. Slightly ahead between him and Xu Chu was another common soldier, wearing bright armor, draped in a cloak, and holding a precious weapon...

Cao Cao knew Xu Chu was gathering his strength; he turned to listen to reports from others, adjusting tactics in real time.

Previously, he had never truly engaged Wang Yan's army on the front lines; only this time, only today, did he finally feel what people often said about the ferocity of the soldiers under Wang Yan and just how strong their combat power truly was.

If nothing unexpected happened, his fifty thousand troops truly could not defeat Wang Yan's twenty thousand; they were indeed strong. Yet he truly refused to submit, so knowing defeat was certain, he still held his ground here, waiting for that single thread of hope.

After seven or eight minutes, seeing Wang Yan successfully break through, Xu Chu let out a mighty roar: "Kill!"

As his words fell, the unnamed Assistant Regional Commander disguised as the commander spurred his horse forward, charging toward Wang Yan at the very front. Xu Chu and Wen Chou lagged one horse-head's length behind, one on the left and one on the right, and also charged forward...

General Wang Da, leading the charge, had now become a man of blood, covered in the gushing fresh blood of unknown soldiers; he felt his qi and blood surging, a great sense of exhilaration. Having played the turtle for so long, one must eventually move one's legs; he was now in the phase of moving his legs.

Since he stopped being a coward, he had been brave, and brave to the very bone. This seemed like a grammatical error, but it was not. He had truly been a coward before, with a body as frail as an unhealthy bamboo pole; how could he have pretended to be tough? When someone threw a punch, he would hit the ground within minutes, begging for money. Now he was truly brave, stemming from his own power, capable of erasing any trouble and guaranteeing his own strength.

Similarly, the gap between the children of wealthy and powerful families and a child like him who came out of the mountain ravines was the same; many principles were interconnected...

His eyesight was excellent; he had already seen the commander in bright armor charging toward him from afar. Likewise, he also saw the two riders following that commander on his left and right.

He admitted that for a moment, he did indeed pause slightly. But after his mind spun at extreme speed, he reacted, and the smile on his lips grew wider, containing a touch of helplessness mixed with amusement.

That damn Old Cao was quite cunning; this must have been Old Cao's idea. He actually had Xu Chu and Wen Chou disguise themselves as common soldiers, preparing to ambush him.

He had watched the drama, although various aspects might have been rationalized, including height and build. But the facial features were there; his mind turned once and he recognized Xu Chu and Wen Chou.

Yet Old Cao assumed he did not recognize them, thus devising this method that indeed proved effective.

He admitted that if he had not recognized Xu Chu and Wen Chou, he would certainly have paid even more attention to the person disguised as the commander. In that case, even though he was quite capable, he would still have fallen into the trap. He certainly would not die, but how severe his injuries would be was uncertain, after all, he was still human.

Casually killing several enemy soldiers blocking his path, the distance closed in the blink of an eye as his thoughts raced.

The disguised commander had already raised his spear, while Xu Chu and Wen Chou were each wielding their long weapons. Wen Chou aimed at the horse, the disguised commander aimed at the head, and Xu Chu, very steadily, aimed at Wang Yan's lower body. After all, the upper body could turn, but the range of motion for the waist, abdomen, and hips was limited.

Watching the three swaying long weapons, General Wang Da smiled confidently. Amidst the horrified gazes of the three, he easily parried Wen Chou's strike aimed at the horse. Simultaneously, he exerted force with both legs, and his entire body leaped sideways into the air, detaching from the horseback to dodge the strike aimed straight at his head and chest. He then horizontally blocked the lance, using the tail of the lance to parry Xu Chu's attack to avoid scratching the horse's back.

Everything happened in the flash of lightning and spark of fire. Wang Yan simply passed sideways between Xu Chu and the disguised enemy general, his weapon brushing past them. The disguised commander was directly slapped into the air. Xu Chu, after all, was a top-tier general; his reaction was faster. He immediately leaned backward, dodging the risk of being slapped into the air. But at the same time, Wang Yan kicked Xu Chu on the hip, sending Xu Chu nearly tumbling off his horse.

Wang Yan then landed back on his horseback. He did not look at how perilous Xu Chu's situation was behind him, nor did he look at how terribly the disguised commander was trampled. He casually killed the cavalry blocking his path ahead and pursued a group of common soldiers who had already turned their horses to flee.

Old Cao's martial arts were not skilled enough, and furthermore, his physical functions had declined; naturally, he could not see the lightning-fast exchange between Wang Yan and the others. But his subordinates could see it. Seeing the plan pinned on high hopes fail, one shouted straight out: "My Lord, flee quickly!"

Then, the fake Old Cao, wearing even more luxurious armor, turned his horse and fled under the protection of a group. Old Cao himself secretly led a group in another direction, appearing like a band of truly routed soldiers.

This battle ended the moment the fake Old Cao fled. Because the commander's flag had shifted, it meant the commander was unstable. If the commander was unstable, how could the generals and soldiers be at peace? The battlefield situation changed in an instant, becoming a pursuit battle for Wang Yan's side.

Old Cao's arrangement was for no other reason than to save himself. But Old Cao felt terrible, for he discovered his scheme had not worked. That damn Wang Yan pursued him relentlessly, like a death sentence.

Ironically, for the sake of realism, he had swapped his precious horse for an ordinary warhorse; it simply could not outrun Wang Yan's famous steed. His guards could not defeat Wang Yan either; one strike per man, they could not even slow Wang Yan down. That damn Wang Yan even laughed arrogantly.

"My life is over! It is over!"

Finally, the last guard was gone. Hearing Wang Yan's wild laughter, Old Cao, carrying a herd of grass mud horses in his heart, ran for his life. Until the very last moment, he would not give up, dead or alive.

Wang Yan was indeed laughing. It was no surprise that Old Cao was killed, losing his helmet and armor, after all, Old Cao had fallen into peril many times in his life. But now, having this played out on him, he felt it was particularly funny, even though Old Cao's strategy was indeed remarkably effective; it just didn't work on him.

He watched Old Cao take a precious sword and hack at the horse's hindquarters, urging the horse to run faster, all while carrying his lance and chasing behind with laughter.

The galloping horse indeed ran fast; his precious horse truly could not catch up for a while. Mainly, he was too heavy, his armor was heavy, and furthermore, he had been moving at high speed for quite a while without a moment to catch his breath; he was already somewhat weary.

Yet even so, the distance between the two grew closer and closer. Old Cao's heart grew more and more anxious, more and more anxious.

Old Cao wanted to run toward the main force, but in this short while, he had already run far away; it was too late. Turning back to look at Wang Yan, whose distance was now so close a single lance thrust could kill him, and knowing Wang Yan did not intend to kill him, Old Cao sighed deeply in resignation and slowly reduced his horse's speed...