Chapter 64: There Will Be Great Confucian Scholars to Debate the Scriptures for Me

Huangfu Song gave a bitter smile, yet in his heart, a terror like never before emerged.

The four-hundred-year-old Han Empire—does it still have a future?

Huangfu Song does not know.

This Han Empire might not perish at the hands of Zhang Jiao, nor at the hands of the Yellow Turban Army.

But it will perish at the hands of the Emperor of the Han and the high officials of the Han.

Looking at the sunset on the horizon, Huangfu Song seemed to see an empire already in its twilight.

He saw the surging momentum of the world and the vast, mighty tide of the people.

And can he, Huangfu Song, block this vast, mighty tide of uprising?

Huangfu Song does not know.

He is merely a military general, even if the Emperor praises him as the pillar of the nation.

Even if the Emperor currently appears to value him greatly.

In the end, it still cannot compare to a single word from the Ten Attendants.

He wants to save this empire, wants to save this imperial court, yet he is powerless to do so.

Outside, he is the renowned General Huangfu; within the imperial court, he is merely a frustrated military general.

If not for the Yellow Turban rebellion threatening the Imperial Capital, whether he could even be employed would be a question.

Illustrious military achievements cannot compare to a single word from the Ten Attendants.

This is the sorrow of him, Huangfu Song, and even more so the sorrow of this court and this empire.

Huangfu Song does not know if he can block the vast, mighty tide of the uprising in this world, but the only thing he knows is this.

He has received imperial grace for generations; he was born a subject of the Han and will die a ghost of the Han.

As long as he, Huangfu Song, remains for one more day, even if he must go against the era, he will block all the riots and protect the Han Empire.

As long as he, Huangfu Song, remains for one more day, the foundation of the Great Han will remain stable.

As long as he, Huangfu Song, remains for one more day, he will shed his last drop of blood for the Great Han.

Huangfu Song, this general of the Great Han, is like a guardian of a bygone era; knowing he will surely die, he still intends to block the tide of the new era.

This is not stupidity; this is the loyalty engraved in his very bones.

Huangfu Song composed himself, deployed his troops, and launched a decisive battle against Zhang Jiao.

Currently, the Yellow Turban Army is powerful, but Huangfu Song knows better than anyone else.

The core figure of the Yellow Turban Army is only one person, and that is Zhang Jiao.

As long as Zhang Jiao is executed, this Yellow Turban rebellion will not be able to stir up much trouble.

Huangfu Song led the imperial army to confront Zhang Jiao.

Huangfu Song looked at this Daoist, whose face was as weathered as a farmer in the fields.

Who could believe that it was this Daoist, looking like an old farmer in the fields before him, who stirred up this rebellion that swept across the Thirteen Provinces of the Han?

Seeing Huangfu Song, Zhang Jiao smiled and said, "This poor Daoist, Zhang Jiao, greets General Huangfu."

Toward this pillar of the Great Han, Zhang Jiao still felt quite respectful.

Their positions were opposed, but even from the perspective of an enemy, this old general could be called a famous general of the age.

In the original storyline, it was precisely this General Huangfu who slaughtered the thirty-six divisions and wiped out the Yellow Turban Army.

His might shook the dynasty, his fame spread overseas; he was a pillar of the nation, revered by all people.

It can be said that it was the existence of this General Huangfu that extended the life of the Great Han by several decades.

Yet even such an old general with illustrious military achievements, once he offended the Ten Attendants, would still be suppressed.

The Great Han, this nation, is already sick, sick beyond cure.

Studying medicine cannot save the Great Han; only revolution can—a revolution to end the life of the Great Han.

To destroy the entire Han Empire and rebuild it from the ruins.

Huangfu Song looked at Zhang Jiao and said, "You are that Demon Daoist Zhang Jiao?"

Zhang Jiao smiled and said, "Demon Daoist? This poor Daoist cannot claim that title; this poor Daoist is merely an ordinary Daoist."

Ordinary?

Hah!

You, this ordinary Daoist, have now swept across the Thirteen Provinces of the Han and shaken the entire world of the Great Han.

Huangfu Song stared at Zhang Jiao, pondered for a moment, and said, "Zhang Jiao, stop now. You have bewitched the people of this world, stirred up the Yellow Turban rebellion, and committed boundless slaughter. Do you know how the people of this world will view you? And how future history books will condemn you?"

"Hahaha! Bewitched. General Huangfu, are the people of this world bewitched by this poor Daoist?"

Zhang Jiao laughed loudly, and with an unprecedented anger, said, "The people of this world are not bewitched by this poor Daoist; it is you, it is the imperial court, it is the court that forced them to the point where they could no longer survive, so they followed this poor Daoist."

Zhang Jiao stepped forward and sneered, "You only see the people of the world gathering in response to the Yellow Turban Army; you do not see that it is you who forced them to do so. This world belongs to the people, not to one family or one surname."

"The people are the masters, the monarch is the guest; it is not that this poor Daoist bewitched them, it is that their monarch has already abandoned them."

"The views of the people? Future history books?"

Zhang Jiao chuckled and continued, "After I enter the Imperial Capital, there will be great Confucian scholars to debate the scriptures for me."

Hearing Zhang Jiao's words, Huangfu Song was so angry that he could not catch his breath.

Yet he also knew that some of what Zhang Jiao said made sense.

Where did these rioters come from, if not because they could no longer survive?

Huangfu Song thought this in his heart, but his mouth let out a sharp shout, "Zhang Jiao, hold your tongue, General. Cease your bewitching of hearts here. A rebellious subject and traitor, everyone has the right to execute him. If you wake up to reality now, this general can still put in a good word for you; if you remain obsessed and unrepentant, when the time comes, you will be beheaded and your nine clans implicated. Do not say you were not warned."

"Put in a good word?"

Zhang Jiao shook his head and said, "General Huangfu, it is not that this poor Daoist looks down on you, but on what grounds would you put in a good word for this poor Daoist? In the current Han court, do you even have a say?"

A single sentence dealt a critical blow directly to Huangfu Song.

Zhang Jiao instead offered earnest advice, "General Huangfu, your current situation is the true dead end. If you lose this battle, you will be burdened with blame; if you win, your merit will overshadow the sovereign."

Zhang Jiao laid out the dilemma Huangfu Song currently faced.

If Huangfu Song suppressed the Yellow Turban Rebellion, his merit would overshadow the sovereign.

If he failed to suppress the Yellow Turban Rebellion, he would have to bear all the blame himself.

Zhang Jiao continued, "General Huangfu, the Emperor of the Great Han lacks the capacity to tolerate others, and those eunuchs will not allow someone like the old General to exist. General Huangfu, why not surrender to us, raise the banner of righteousness with us, rebuild the Divine Land, and create a world that belongs to the people of the world?"

Zhang Jiao's words left Huangfu Song momentarily dazed; how could he not know his current situation?

But he was a Han official, a subject of the Great Han.

"Silence! Having received the Emperor's grace, I should naturally die for the Great Han."

Huangfu Song said coldly, "Rebellious subject and traitor, bewitching people's hearts; Zhang Jiao, your failure is destined."

Zhang Jiao spoke again in a low, lingering voice, "General Huangfu, you can stop me, but can you stop the magnificent momentum of this world? Look, look at the anger of the common people, look at the fury of the masses of this world."

(End of chapter)