Chapter 103: Hanging by a Thread
It was as if a mountain had come crashing down, the weight of Mount Tai pressing upon him.
Zhang Yu struggled to steady his thoughts and summoned the system once again.
“Ding!
【Lü Bu: (Born 158 AD—)
Attributes:
Martial Prowess — 106 (108)
Leadership — 88 (93)
Intelligence — 56 (58)
Politics — 30 (36)】”
106… peak at 108…
How could such a person exist?!
Is this really Lü Bu…?
Truly worthy of the name Lü Bu.
To fight him was certain death.
To save him was already hopeless.
Foolish? Who hasn’t been foolish once or twice?
There are many things in life that defy reason, where one acts on impulse, regardless of consequences, driven by a sudden fury.
Whether mindless or foolish, youth often indulges in reckless whims.
Of course, the price to pay is invariably bitter.
But surviving it undoubtedly leads to growth.
Does he… still have a chance?
…
“Grand Tutor, this is my daughter, Diao Chan.”
“…”
“Grand Tutor?”
“Good… uh, good! Beautiful! Ha ha ha!” Dong Zhuo patted Wang Yun beside him, but his eyes never left Diao Xiu’er.
“The daughter of the Minister of Works surpasses those imperial beauties a hundredfold! To see her today, even the taste of this wine is sweeter than that of the Jade Emperor drunk!”
“Ha ha, Grand Tutor, you flatter us. Chan’er, won’t you toast the Grand Tutor?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Ha ha ha, very good!”
Diao Xiu’er bowed gently and poured wine for Dong Zhuo. He appeared torn, as though thoroughly enjoying the moment yet overwhelmed by an inner heat, cheerfully grasping the cup from her hand.
“Chan’er, is it? How old are you?”
“Grand Tutor, Chan’er is just twenty.”
“Excellent, truly like a celestial being! Earlier, I thought Zhang Yu was nearly unmatched among women, but now I see he pales in comparison to Chan’er!”
Diao Xiu’er’s expression shifted subtly, then she shyly replied, “I am unworthy of such praise, Grand Tutor.”
“You deserve it. I say you do, and who dares say otherwise!” Dong Zhuo feigned anger, and Diao Xiu’er quickly lowered her head, a blush that stirred an unspoken longing in his heart.
“Grand Tutor,” Wang Yun smiled and stepped forward, “My daughter is now twenty, unmarried. I believe she still retains some charm. Marrying her off to an ordinary man would only bring her hardship. Now that you have come to this feast, and seeing how diligently you attend to state affairs with little care for yourself, I dare to ask that you take her as a concubine. She could assist the lady in daily duties and care for you. What do you think?”
…
“Ah? This… ha ha, Minister Wang, such kindness, how can I ever repay you?” Dong Zhuo’s gaze flickered toward Diao Xiu’er, but she seemed lost in thought, her mind elsewhere.
“Ahem, it would be an honor for her to serve you, Grand Tutor.”
“Well then, would Chan’er like to accompany me back to my residence?”
“Chan’er… wishes to.”
“Why not take her back with me now?”
Dong Zhuo stood, rubbing his palms and looking around. “Isn’t this a bit hasty?”
Diao Xiu’er suddenly furrowed her brows, her expression tightening.
A sense of foreboding rose within her, as if some misfortune was unfolding.
Dong Zhuo noticed her unease and leaned in to ask, “Chan’er, what’s wrong?”
“Grand Tutor, Chan’er has recently been unwell due to her monthly illness. Please forgive her…”
“Monthly illness,” Dong Zhuo frowned, pondering a moment before saying, “In that case, since Chan’er is the Minister’s daughter, it would be improper to take her now. I shall return home to prepare, then come back for her.”
Wang Yun nodded gently and stroked his beard. “Very well.”
…
The Red Hare thundered like a bolt of scarlet lightning as Lü Bu wielded the world-renowned halberd, the Fangtian Ji, at his side.
“Lü Bu! Save my sister!”
“Hm?” Lü Bu’s brow twitched, slightly pausing his strike. Yet he had not held back at all; this was merely a brief deceleration.
“Clang!”
A sword flashed out.
A figure cloaked in black held the blade.
His sword was faster, stronger, and brighter than Zhang Yu’s.
Like a meteor crashing to earth, sparks flew—fire striking planet—in a fierce clash against Lü Bu’s halberd.
The sword opened a path; the halberd veered.
Yet the sheer force of that blow alone sent Zhang Yu staggering back several steps despite being so close.
He could no longer hold out.
Closing his eyes, he fell heavily backward.
“Save my sister… I can’t die… speak of Cao Cao… Cao Cao…”
Seeing the strange youth collapse, Lü Bu struck again, but the black-clad swordsman effortlessly redirected the force as if turning a feather’s weight.
“Interesting.” A gleam flashed in Lü Bu’s eyes as his hand gripping the Fangtian Ji tightened.
The swordsman accepted Lü Bu’s blow but dared not linger in battle, swiftly scooping up Zhang Yu like an eagle snatching a chick and leaping onto the rooftop. In a few bounds, they vanished without a trace.
“General!” Lü Bu’s men hastened forward. “Shall we—”
No words were spoken. Lü Bu raised his hand, halting several hundred soldiers with a single gesture.
“Save your sister? Who is this sister of yours?” Lü Bu murmured, then dismounted.
“General Fengxian!” Zhang Xiu struggled to rise and saluted.
“Too weak.”
“Yes.” Zhang Xiu smiled wryly. “Still, thank you, General Fengxian, for saving me.”
“I do not save you. I protect my sworn father.”
“Xiu understands.”
“My sworn father—inside?” Lü Bu glanced toward the Minister’s mansion.
…
“Lü Bu, save my sister!”
Sister, Minister’s mansion, a handsome youth.
Lü Bu stood motionless, silent for a long moment.
“General Fengxian, what shall we do now—”
“Report to the Grand Tutor.”
Without another word, Lü Bu vaulted onto Red Hare and galloped after the black-clad figure’s departure.
…
“Report to the Grand Tutor!”
“Enter!”
Dong Zhuo sat atop the dais, heartily feasting, while Diao Xiu’er quietly refilled his wine cup.
The door swung open, and a bloodied Zhang Xiu limped inside.
“Ah!” Diao Xiu’er gasped, and both Wang Yun and Dong Zhuo were startled.
“Impudence!” Dong Zhuo rose and scolded. “Look at you, frightening my Chan’er… and the Minister!”
Snorting sharply, Dong Zhuo studied Zhang Xiu’s pitiful state and then softened. “Speak. What happened?”
“Grand Tutor, just now Zhang Yu attempted to storm the Minister’s mansion to assassinate him but was apprehended.”
“Clang!”
The wine jug slipped from Diao Xiu’er’s hand and shattered on the floor.
“Look what you’ve done, scaring Chan’er. Zhang Yu? He tried to assassinate me?” Dong Zhuo laughed heartily. “With his frame, can he even wield a sword?”
“Grand Tutor, Zhang Yu conceals his true strength. His swordsmanship is unparalleled in Xiu’s experience—”
“I know!” Dong Zhuo swept his sleeve and strode toward the door. Wang Yun hurried after him silently.
“I believe you. Where is this Zhang Yu now?”
“Rescued by someone.”
“Who?”
“General Fengxian pursued him.”
“Incompetent! Where is my Flying Bear elite unit?”
“More than half lost, all to him.”
“Hmph!”
Dong Zhuo paused at the door and glanced back at the dazed Diao Xiu’er.
“Chan’er, do not fear. I will personally dispatch a troop to guard your safety. Once I return and make arrangements, I will come for you.”
Outside the Minister’s mansion, over twenty corpses lay in pools of blood, with another thirty or so supporting each other.
“Is this really the handsome youth who writes poetry?”
“Indeed!”
“I almost intended to make him a marquis, yet he is such a treacherous scoundrel!
“Men!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Bring men. Dig to the earth’s depths if you must, but find Zhang Yu and that black-clad man. Alive or dead, I want to see them!”