Chapter 113: A Pot of Poisoned Wine for a Joyous Reunion

"So, this is your justification for bringing disaster upon the nation?" Zhang Yu finally spoke.

"Insolent fool! Do you also believe I have brought disaster upon the nation?"

"Having heard so much from you, Grand Preceptor, I can understand your feelings. However, even if the noble clans and aristocratic families are guilty of every evil, they do not compare to the destruction you have wrought over these years!"

Zhang Yu stood up, stepping directly over the table, leaving Dong Zhuo to stare at his back.

"To say nothing of your other crimes, the burning of Luoyang alone is an atrocity too vast to be recorded. Do you realize how many commoners have been displaced or lost their homes and families as this charred path turned into a living hell? All for your so-called 'only when the deer runs to Chang'an can this disaster be avoided'! Your Qiang brothers and those elite Xiliang soldiers of yours—they are truly remarkable, aren't they? Skilled at murder, arson, rape, and pillage! Your subordinates even plundered innocent folk gathering at village markets! Truly an invincible army of the world, right? Our Han men and commoners were trampled and slaughtered at will; your men cruelly severed their heads and lined them up bloody on the cart shafts—a sight that makes one’s blood run cold! And it did not end there; after returning to the city, women were violated and heads were burned. Is this also a glorious victory in defense of the realm, my Grand Preceptor? They are meant to protect the people, not slaughter them. They are your own subjects—why do you not restrain them? Are these sub-human beasts really your grand army?"

"Silence!" Dong Zhuo’s eyes widened as he flipped the table over. "You ignorant whelp, those people were merely the lapdogs of the noble clans, private soldiers!"

"Then go kill the ringleaders, damn it! Whether the state thrives or falls, the commoners suffer. All they want is a mouthful of food and to live in peace. Is that so hard?" Veins bulged on Zhang Yu’s neck from his shouting.

"You do not understand. I, Dong Zhuo, have no path left to retreat." Dong Zhuo’s mood strangely steadied, and he paced toward the jade platform with his hands behind his back.

"It is you who do not understand. The so-called salvation of the nation you imagine, your acts of 'loyalty'—you do not realize the profound disaster you are bringing upon this country and its countless people! You do not realize how much the people of the Three Prefectures and the entire world wish to feast upon your flesh, to peel your skin, pull your tendons, and light you as a human lantern!"

*Clang!*

A wine cup was hurled violently to the ground, followed by heavy footsteps.

"It is a pity you shall not live to see that day." Dong Zhuo walked out of the hall. "On my behalf, see this brilliant Master of Swords and Marquis of Wuji on his way."

Two squads of armored soldiers raised their crossbows and aimed them into the hall.

"Damn it, they're serious... Where are my skills?"

*Thwip!*
*Thwip, thwip!*
"Holy crap!"

Zhang Yu felt a jolt of terror, only to see these glowing, lethal bolts strike the sixteen young boys and girls who had been standing to his left and right. The arrows pierced their bodies, and their cries were heartbreaking.

"You beasts!"

*Thwip, thwip!*

Four more arrows flew, and the four serving maids on the gold-inlaid jade platform were struck dead one after another. Soon, crimson blood flowed into the hall, pooling at Zhang Yu’s feet.

"When I return, I will grind your bones to dust!" Zhang Yu cursed, opening his skill menu, only to find—

"Mother of God, they're greyed out?!"

"Ding! This skill can only be used when the host is out of combat—"

***

Chang'an City, Grand Preceptor’s Mansion.

Han Long followed the perimeter wall until he reached a marked spot, then tapped it lightly with a stone.

*Thump, thump, thump!*

Before long, an identical echo came from within the wall. Han Long quickly skirted the wall until he reached a desolate tree; behind it was the side gate of the Grand Preceptor’s mansion.

A moment later, the door creaked open, and a woman in red slipped out, laughing. "Little Han, here to spar with me again?"

"No—"

"I never would have guessed that dog of a young master of yours was a master swordsman in hiding. I heard he even tried to assassinate my grandfather? I’ll have to teach him a lesson one of these days."

As Dong Bai spoke, Han Long suddenly dropped to his knees.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Dong Bai was startled and reached out to help him up.

"Han Long begs the Lady of Weiyang to save my young master!"

"Zhang Yu? What happened to him?"

"He was taken by your grandfather, and his fate is uncertain. The Lady of Weiyang must have a way to save him. Han Long is willing to—"

"But my grandfather is not in the mansion."

"Not here?!"

Dong Bai frowned, then her expression cleared. "He must be at Mei-wu."

"Then let us go to Mei-wu!"

"Fine. Defeat me, and we shall go." Dong Bai lifted her chin, her fair neck displaying her pride.

"Is this the time for that? My young master, he—"

"Whether he lives or dies, what is it to me? I want to save him only because he annoys me and I don't want him to die so soon... not because of you!"

Drawing her long sword, Dong Bai glared at Han Long. "When we practiced swordsmanship before, you never used your full strength. This time, I expect you to be serious, otherwise—"

*Cling!*

A flash of cold light!
The Silver Dragon hummed!

Han Long stood stunned, and Dong Bai looked equally bewildered. However, Wang Yue’s sword was already pressed against her throat.

"Young Master Yu is in grave danger. Please forgive this offense, Lady of Weiyang."

"I... I want to learn swordplay from you!"

"Once we save Young Master Yu, you shall be my final disciple."

"Yes, Master!"

***

Another fair-faced woman approached, trembling violently as she presented a wooden tray. All around her stood dense ranks of warriors. On the tray sat an exquisite small wine bottle.

"I never thought I, Zhang Yu, would receive the same treatment as the Young Emperor..." Zhang Yu smiled bitterly, his mind drifting in a daze.

"May I refuse to drink? I am not fond of wine—"

"You may not," the captain of the guards replied coldly.

"Then, General, I shall toast you a cup!"

"I dare not," he replied, just as coldly.

"Look, General... can we not keep things so tense?"

*Swish!*
*Swish!*
*Swish!*

Dozens of precious swords were drawn in unison, the light reflecting off countless blades as they crisscrossed within the majestic hall.

"Hey! Don't be like that... won't you consider turning hostility into friendship?"

"If the young master refuses, this subordinate will personally send you on your way."

"Hmph! You treacherous rebels!" Zhang Yu roared, leaping onto the table. "For the revival of the Han Dynasty, I have exhausted my strength and given my all; why should I fear losing this head? It is a pity, though, that this head is so handsome; I truly hate to part with it. Before I die, may I compose one last poem?"

"It is an honor for this subordinate to hear the Master of Swords' final poem."

"This poem is titled, 'Passing Mei-wu'." Zhang Yu waved his goose-feather fan as if pointing out the landscape.

"Through toil and hardship, I set out, but the war drums have faded over four years! The mountains and rivers are broken, like catkins drifting in the wind; my life drifts like duckweed in the rain. Terrified... uh... Mei-wu Fortress... uh..."

How the hell was he supposed to change the lines?

"Ahem! Since ancient times, who has not died? Let my loyal heart shine in the annals of history!"

Having finished, Zhang Yu sat down slowly and poured the clear wine from the bottle into his cup.

"Eh?"

Suddenly, some thought crossed his mind, and a foolish, strange smile appeared on his face.

"How to dispel sorrow? Only with Du Kang!"

*Splash!*

A fragrance, intoxicating and deep.
It was the scent of hope.

"Zhang Yu toasts you all—may your journeys be vast, and may you rise to great heights!"