Chapter Fifty-three: Your Sword Is Sharp, Yet Mine Has Never Been Dull

With bellies full and spirits high, the group sprawled across the grassy field, some lying, some sitting, indulging in idle conversation and gentle rest. Yan Liang and Wen Chou found their hearts tangled in complexity; since the day they had pledged themselves to Yuan Shao, they had never witnessed a master as he was now. Had the civil and military officers from Yuan Shao’s court been present, they would surely have stared in disbelief.

Yuan Shao, leaning against a sturdy tree with Zhang Yu’s arm draped over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed from wine, recounted his heroic deeds of youth with abandon, resembling nothing so much as a drunken braggart. Was this truly the ambitious, imposing lord they knew? The former leader of the anti-Dong Zhuo alliance, the master of Ji Province, the scion of a noble house whose every gesture bespoke dignity and pride?

Yan Liang and Wen Chou exchanged glances—years of camaraderie allowed them to understand each other’s thoughts without words. Today, their lord revealed his true nature, but only for today. He was no longer Yuan Shao, no longer the illustrious Yuan Benchu; he was simply a man who needed respite.

Should even a whisper of this scene ever reach unfriendly ears, all present would vanish from the world.

“Yu Lang once penned, ‘Luxuriant grass on the plain, each year withers and thrives anew.’ Yet that butcher was blind to the principle of cutting weeds down to their roots!” Yuan Shao’s voice carried both anger and mockery, still unable to find peace after so many years. “Did he think those eunuchs were nothing more than swine waiting for slaughter?”

“Merely a petty peddler! I urged him to rid the court of the eunuch faction while the opportunity was ripe, lest it come back to haunt him. With the strength of He Jin’s forces at the time, he could have secured lasting peace with ease. Instead, indecision sowed chaos for years to come and led him to ruin!”

You, Yuan Shao, accusing others of indecision? Perhaps not entirely unjust—though your future adversaries were unnaturally formidable.

“How laughable that the eunuchs dared issue proclamations pardoning us! Tell me, Yu Lang, is that not amusing? Immediately, I joined Gong Lu and Ah Man in carving a river of blood; the peril facing our Han dynasty cannot be separated from those vile creatures!”

“That day,” Yuan Shao paused, as if recalling something vital. He closed his eyes in contemplation, then slowly opened them and continued, “Dong Zhuo held a banquet in the palace, summoning all the ministers.”

“When I saw Lü Bu and the armored guards before the palace gates, I knew the old villain had another plot brewing.”

“And sure enough, after several rounds of wine, he suddenly drew his sword and declared, ‘The emperor is weak and unfit to uphold the ancestral temple! Following the examples of Yi Yin and Huo Guang, I will depose him as Prince of Hongnong and enthrone the Prince of Chenliu. Any who oppose, shall be executed!’”

Yuan Shao’s brows knit tightly, the haze of drink gone from his gaze as he enunciated Dong Zhuo’s treasonous words with fierce repetition.

“Imitate Yi Yin and Huo Guang? Him—a barbarian from Xiliang?” He scoffed, contemptuous. “A hall filled with ministers! Fed by the emperor’s bounty, favored by the Han court, yet they allowed that old rogue to run rampant before them, showing neither shame nor honor!”

Yuan Shao now surged like a volcano on the verge of eruption, his voice rising with each sentence, igniting the passions of Zhang Yu, Yan Liang, Wen Chou, and all those present, stirring their blood and spirits.

“At that moment, only I, Yuan Shao, stood forth! I rose and challenged Dong Zhuo: ‘The emperor has committed no misdeeds, yet you seek to depose the legitimate in favor of the illegitimate—are you rebelling?’”

With a thunderous shout, Zhang Yu involuntarily shuddered, his whole body tingling with excitement.

“Dong Zhuo claimed that all matters under heaven were now decided by his word, asking if I doubted the sharpness of his blade.”

---

At this point, Yuan Shao burst into laughter, bold and unrestrained, “Your blade may be sharp, but do you think Yuan Shao’s blade will shrink from you!”

“For the general’s words, I’ll toast with a full cup!” Zhang Yu rose, draining the fragrant yet mild yellow wine, his heart still stirred by Yuan Shao’s account.

Yuan Shao, oh Yuan Shao, so heroic—how did you lose at Guandu? How formidable must Cao Mengde have been to defeat you so utterly?

What began as resigned expectation to hear drunken tales gradually transformed into focused attention as Yuan Shao spoke. What could be more captivating to a devotee of the Three Kingdoms than having a great figure narrate his own story?

Soon enough, that focus became fascination; Yuan Shao’s confessions carried a certain power, and coupled with his striking presence, Zhang Yu felt a true sense of dominance, as though he could command the world. Had he not been a traveler from another time, he too might have pledged himself to this man, convinced he would unify the realm.

After a while, Yuan Shao prepared to depart.

“Meeting Yu Lang today has been my good fortune.”

“I am unworthy, Lord Benchu. Would you not come to my humble home, so that my father might properly entertain you?”

“State affairs press, and stealing even half a day of leisure is a rare blessing. I must return.”

With a deep glance at Zhang Yu, Yuan Shao departed with Yan Liang and Wen Chou, brisk and decisive.

“Yu, see Lord Benchu off!”

“Eighteen Riders of Yan and Yun, escort Lord Benchu!”

“Eighteen Riders of Yan and Yun? Ha ha ha, splendid name!” Yuan Shao laughed without turning back.

“Han, lad! Practice more at home—next time, Yan Liang will teach you a lesson!”

...

The three emerged from the woods, where their carriage and attendants waited by the roadside.

“To Ye City,” Yuan Shao ordered as he stepped onto the carriage.

---

“Master, weren’t we to visit the people of Zhongshan? Why, after meeting only Zhang Yu, are we returning?” Yan Liang asked in puzzlement.

“With such a man in Zhongshan, how could the people fare poorly? I have gained much today; to hope for more would be greed.”

“Much gained? What did you obtain, Master?” Yan Liang glanced at Wen Chou, who said, “If you truly wish for his service, why not send troops against his house, or simply seize him—”

“Yu Lang’s talent makes me wish to bind him with rope, but a great talent has its own nature; haste will not do.”

“But Zhongshan is even closer to You Province than Ye City. Are you not concerned—”

“What were you doing just now?” Yuan Shao glared at Yan Liang. “Zhang Yu pointed out three defeats of Gongsun Zan, showing clear disdain for Gongsun Bo Gui. In all Hebei, who else but Yuan Shao would he serve?”

“But what if Gongsun Zan abducts Zhang Yu and forces him to serve?” Wen Chou voiced his concern—Gongsun Zan, notorious for slaughter and extermination beyond the frontier, was not one for reason.

“If someday I secure Yu Lang’s counsel and strategy, you two will be my arms to conquer cities and fortresses. If my strategist is stolen, will my arms stand idle?”

“Thank you, Master, for your trust. Chou (Liang) will never let Gongsun’s villain succeed!”

“If a battle with Gongsun Zan is required to win his service, so be it.”

The moon climbed once again into the sky, only to be swallowed by dense, brooding clouds. Zhang Yu had no inkling that plans were already being made to wage war for his sake.

At that moment, he was rummaging through the system, searching for any distillation techniques he might exchange—for the wine of this era...

Better not to drink.

Suddenly, a silver dragon flashed outside the window, thunder exploded in his ears, and the first spring rain arrived right on time.

Yet at the instant the thunder boomed, a phrase echoed in Zhang Yu’s mind:

“Your blade is sharp, but mine is no less so!”