Chapter Twenty-Five: Changing the Family Name

Chu Yan continued to focus on Zhang Xuan, but he couldn’t resolve the situation quickly, which made him increasingly impatient. Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu were fighting side by side, perhaps because they had trained together since childhood. The two always managed to coordinate seamlessly, standing back-to-back and entrusting their backs wholly to each other—a testament to their mutual trust. After all, they had survived life-and-death moments together. They concentrated only on the thieves before and beside them, and thanks to their skilled cooperation, the thieves’ numbers dwindled rapidly.

Chu Yan watched as his brothers fell one after another and began to panic. His strikes grew frantic and disordered. Zhang Xuan, though not particularly skilled, could sense the change in Chu Yan’s attacks; they lacked their former ferocity. Frequent duels with experts had indeed helped Zhang Xuan progress. Attempting to forcefully parry Chu Yan’s blade, Zhang Xuan didn’t succeed, but did manage to make Chu Yan retreat several steps. Seizing the moment, Zhang Xuan thrust his spear toward Chu Yan’s heart. Chu Yan tried to dodge gracefully, but his body could not keep pace with his mind; though he avoided the fatal blow, his arm was wounded, and his blade dropped to the ground.

As Chu Yan tried to retrieve his weapon, Zhang Xuan pointed his spear at Chu Yan’s head. Chu Yan withdrew his hand, and Zhang Xuan spoke, “If you wish to live, tell your men to stop. There’s no sense in further struggle; many have already died.”

The thieves surrounding Zhang Xuan, seeing their leader threatened by a youth with a spear, had no more ideas and paused. Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu continued to fight within the encirclement, but as more thieves turned their attention to Zhang Xuan’s battle, the two also looked anxiously toward him, silently praying that nothing would happen to Zhang Xuan. When they saw Zhang Xuan holding his spear to the leader’s head, both breathed a sigh of relief, exchanging glances with a hint of a smile.

Chu Yan looked at Zhang Xuan and said, “Go ahead, do it. If I blink, I’m your grandson. When I chose this path, I knew this could be the outcome, though I didn’t expect it so soon.” With that, Chu Yan closed his eyes.

Hearing those words—“If I blink, I’m your grandson”—then seeing him close his eyes, Zhang Xuan could only admit his admiration, feeling outdone. He chuckled and shouted to the surrounding thieves, “Stop. This man is your leader, isn’t he? If any of you move, his life will be forfeit right here.”

The thieves glanced at each other, none daring to decide, especially as they saw the still-warm bodies near Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu. Everyone wanted to survive.

Chu Yan opened his eyes and looked at his brothers. “Brothers, I’m sorry. Today I led you into a fire pit. Put down your weapons. My death doesn’t matter, but you must live on. Lad, if you want to kill me, do it. I’ve realized that even if you exhaust yourselves fighting us, my brothers will be nearly gone, and I can’t be sure you don’t have reinforcements—you probably do, or you wouldn’t dare ambush us with just three men. But I can’t gamble anymore. I hope you’ll spare them.”

Chu Yan, though young, held considerable status among his men. He was, after all, a chief, and his loyalty and camaraderie made him beloved. Hearing his words, several thieves wiped their eyes and threw down their sticks, and as one led the way, the rest followed suit, discarding their weapons. Truth be told, they had never witnessed such carnage; though not quite a battlefield strewn with corpses, perhaps because their leader was still fighting or they felt too ashamed to flee, otherwise many would have run long ago—it was simply too brutal.

Zhang Xuan, Yang Zaixing, and Yang Hu watched as the thieves dropped their “weapons,” and the tension that had gripped their minds finally eased; all three let out long breaths.

“Remember to change your surname to Zhang from now on. As for becoming my grandson, let’s forget it—I don’t want a grandson older than myself. You’re quite respected among your men; I don’t know how you managed it, but I hope you maintain it—it’s your wealth.”

“You won’t kill me? Is that true?” Chu Yan felt sure he was doomed, following in the footsteps of Old Li. Hearing Zhang Xuan’s words, he was incredulous.

Zhang Xuan lowered his spear and looked at Chu Yan. “Why should I kill you? Look around; you attacked us. With so many of you, we’re just defending ourselves. If you hadn’t tried to rob us, we wouldn’t have fought. But don’t forget your wager—according to it, you must now change your surname to Zhang.” Zhang Xuan walked over, picked up Chu Yan’s blade, and sliced off a few strands of his hair. “All right, Chu Yan is dead. From now on, you’re Zhang Yan.”

Of course, this was not Zhang Xuan’s true intention; he was gambling once more. In his memory, during the Yellow Turban uprising, there was a Zhang Yan—a formidable leader who commanded nearly a million Black Mountain troops. His original name was Chu Yan, but he changed it later.

(When the Yellow Turbans erupted, Chu Yan rallied a band of men, maneuvering through the hills with ever-growing numbers, eventually leading over ten thousand. Meanwhile, Zhang Niujiao gathered his own force, calling himself general, and joined with Chu Yan. Chu Yan nominated Zhang Niujiao as leader, and they marched on Yingtou. Zhang Niujiao was mortally wounded by a stray arrow, and before dying, ordered his men to follow Chu Yan as their chief. After his death, the whole group acclaimed Chu Yan, who then changed his surname to Zhang, becoming Zhang Yan.)

Zhang Yan, renowned for his agility and valor, earned the nickname “Flying Swallow.” As his forces grew, he allied with rebels in Changshan, Zhaojun, Zhongshan, Shangdang, and Henei. Local rebel leaders—Sun Qing, Wang Dang, and others—brought their men to join Zhang Yan, swelling his ranks to nearly a million, known as the “Black Mountain Army.”

Encountering such talent, Zhang Xuan would never let him slip away. Even if he couldn’t recruit him yet, planting a seed in his heart was worthwhile.