Chapter 334: Regretful Liu Hong

Cao's residence.

Cao Cao returned, handed his mount to a servant to lead to the stables, and walked straight into the study.

He picked up the edict delivered from the palace on the desk and began to read it carefully.

His eyes scanned the characters on the silk, and he whispered the key passage.

"Yellow Turban bandit chief Bo Cai, rampant in Yingchuan, defeated Zhu Jun in the field, trapped Huangfu Song at Changshe. Appoint Cavalry Commandant Cao Cao, lead his own cavalry to rush to aid, help Song and Jun defeat the bandits, to resolve the dire situation."

Having finished reading, Cao Cao was about to ponder the details and risks of this expedition when an unusual clamor and commotion suddenly came from outside the residence, mixed with hurried footsteps, horse hooves, and faint voices, something like "Lord Zhao, hold on, the Imperial Palace is arriving soon!" It arrived abruptly and left just as hastily.

The disturbance broke Cao Cao's thoughts; his brows furrowed, doubts arose, and he rose, walked to the courtyard, summoned the steward and asked, "What caused the noise outside just now?"

The steward still wore a look of fear, quickly bowed and reported, "My lord, just now… just now a serious incident occurred! Middle Constant Attendant Zhao Zhong, Lord Zhao, together with some of Zhang Rang's men, stopped a young gentleman bearing a sword in the market, apparently to inspect his sword."

"But—how could it be—who knows what method that gentleman used, he knocked Lord Zhao and all the guards to the ground in the blink of an eye! It was heard that those people bore no wounds, yet all their limbs were limp! They have now been urgently carried to the palace for treatment!"

Young gentleman? Sword bearer?

Cao Cao, upon hearing this, felt a sudden chill, his brows tightened further.

He knew well the weight Zhao Zhong and Zhang Rang held in the Son of Heaven's regard, and understood that this matter was certainly far from simple.

That sword‑bearer's methods were so bizarre and unfathomable, far from ordinary.

He thought to himself: 'This matter is deep; it involves inner court attendants and such strange individuals. A slight misstep could become a massive wave; perhaps it is best to stay out of it.'

"I understand," he said, waved his hand to signal the steward to withdraw, and turned back to the study, trying to refocus on military affairs.

However, barely a quarter of an hour after he sat down, hurried footsteps sounded again outside the study. The steward rushed back, his expression even more frantic, and without the usual bow shouted, "My lord! An urgent imperial edict from the palace commands all officials now in Luoyang to enter the palace at once! The carriage is ready outside the residence; please go quickly!"

Cao Cao, hearing this, instinctively thought the urgent summons must be related to the street incident involving Zhao Zhong and the others.

He immediately rose, and in a deep voice said, "I understand!"

Adjusting his attire, Cao Cao no longer delayed, strode out of the study, boarded the prepared carriage, and sped toward the Imperial Palace.

Imperial Palace.

Han Ling Emperor Liu Hong paced back and forth in the hall carpeted with luxurious rugs like an ant on a hot pan, unable to sit still.

At times he hurried to the bronze mirror to tidy his crown and dragon robe, imagining how he would most solemnly receive the return of the Chi Xiao Sword, the symbol of the Han Empire's Destiny; at other times, fearing the search might fail and Chi Xiao would appear only fleetingly, a crushing sense of loss seized him, causing him to slump back onto the throne, his gaze dim.

Amid this alternating hope and anxiety, finally a sound came from outside the hall.

However, what met his eyes was not the anticipated divine sword or immortal, but a panicked Zhang Rang, pale‑faced, and Zhao Zhong along with several guards, carried in on a stretcher by a few junior eunuchs, limp as mud, eyes vacant, unintelligibly sobbing.

Liu Hong's hopeful expression froze, turned to astonishment, then flared into sudden anger: "What… what is this? Where is Chi Xiao? What are you…?"

Zhang Rang fell to his knees with a splash, head hitting the ground, his voice trembling with tears and fear: "Your Majesty! Please calm your anger! We… we are incompetent!"

He dared not conceal anything, nor shift blame onto Yu Lin, and recounted in detail how the sword‑bearer was discovered, how he politely invited him and was rejected, how Zhao Zhong led men to block him forcefully, and finally how Yu Lin, like a phantom, acted, causing everyone to instantly become limp.

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhao Zhong on the stretcher, as if reflecting light, struggled to lift his neck a little, tears streaming, and with a hoarse voice cried out:

"Your… Your Majesty… you must stand up for me! That… that rogue… he dared in Luoyang, beneath the Son of Heaven, to lay this poisonous hand on me! This… this is a contempt of imperial authority, Your Majesty!"

He tried to squeeze out more tears of grievance, his helpless, pitiful appearance making him look especially wretched.

Yet Liu Hong, having heard the whole account, did not let his angry expression turn toward the unseen 'rogue'; instead it grew darker and more terrifying, like storm clouds before a tempest.

His chest heaved violently, the fire in his eyes nearly bursting forth.

He did not act immediately; instead he rose slowly from the throne, walked step by step to Zhao Zhong's stretcher, and looked down from his height at the attendant he usually called "mother."

In his gaze there was no trace of compassion, only cold disappointment and a raging fury.

Zhao Zhong, chilled to his core by Liu Hong's unprecedented stare, still clung to a sliver of hope, thinking the emperor felt pity; he forced a more miserable expression and sobbed:

"Your… Majesty…"

Just as Zhao Zhong thought Liu Hong would bend down to soothe him, perhaps even lift him up—

Liu Hong suddenly bent down, his right hand moving faster than the ear could be covered, channeling his whole strength, and struck Zhao Zhong's already pallid face hard!

Slap—!

A crisp, loud sound of a slap rang like thunder in the silent palace, echoing in every corner, causing all standing eunuchs and palace maids to shudder, bow their heads deeply, and dare not look directly.

Zhao Zhong was hit by this sudden slap, his head jolted to one side, half of his cheek reddening at a visible speed, showing a distinct five‑finger imprint.

He was completely stunned, his ears buzzing, turning his head in disbelief, eyes wide as he stared at Liu Hong's iron‑blue face, mouth agape; the extreme shock and grievance altered his voice:

"Your… Majesty… why is this? I… I am wronged!"

"Why?! You still dare ask me why?!" Liu Hong's fury finally erupted like a volcano; pointing at Zhao Zhong's nose, his voice trembling with extreme anger, he roared:

"You fool! You wretched eunuch! Who let you act on your own?! Who let you bring men to trouble him?! Who gave you the nerve to use blade and troops against him?!"

"Do you know you have ruined my great undertaking! Do you know you almost brought a cataclysm upon our Han Empire!!"

"Damn it, damn it!"

In his raging fury, Liu Hong looked at Zhao Zhong's terrified, frightened, limp form, feeling a wicked fire surge to his crown; the earlier slap was wholly insufficient to vent his hatred and lingering fear.

He suddenly bent low, seized Zhao Zhong's collar in one hand, disregarding his pig‑like wailing and vague pleas, and, like tossing a torn sack, ripped the normally pampered Middle Constant Attendant from the stretcher and slammed him heavily onto the cold, hard ground!

"Ah—Your Majesty, spare me! I know my fault! Spare me!" Zhao Zhong, battered beyond recognition, his already numb body feeling an indescribable dull pain, was terrified to the point of soul‑shattering, and could only sob and beg desperately for mercy.

Watching Zhao Zhong writhe on the ground like a maggot, miserable, Liu Hong's violent chest heaving eased slightly, but the extreme anger on his face gradually gave way to a deeper emotion—an overwhelming sense of guilt and remorse.

He suddenly raised his hand, forcefully covering his forehead, his voice trembling with a hint of defeat, as if questioning himself:

"It is also my fault… it is my fault! How could I have forgotten… forgotten that Chi Xiao would be in someone's hands! How could I have only hurried you to search, yet forgotten to instruct you that you must, with utmost respect, invite the sword‑bearer… to come?"

He lowered his hand, his face full of sorrow, as if the hope of the Han's revival lay before him, yet was brutally cut off by his own negligence and his subordinates' folly.

He let out a long sigh, that sigh filled with helplessness and resentment.

Things have come to this… regret is also futile.

Forcefully suppressing the surging emotions, Liu Hong's gaze turned cold and hard again.

He tidied his dragon robe, which had become slightly disheveled from his earlier actions, no longer looking at the dog‑like Zhao Zhong on the ground, turned, and with heavy steps walked step by step toward the Dragon Throne that symbolized supreme power.

When he sat back upon the Dragon Throne, his face had regained imperial majesty, yet beneath that majesty hid a lingering gloom that could not be erased.

He swept his gaze over the silent crowd in the hall, and his voice rang throughout the Great Hall:

Convey my order: go and let all officials presently in Luoyang City, of any rank, immediately enter the palace for an audience!