Chapter 64: Entangled in Loneliness

“Magnificent, Zining! Hahaha, after this, let’s see who dares to step forward and supervise the army!”
Cao Ren bounced with excitement, looking like someone who’d never seen the world before.
Chen Cong clicked his tongue. “So you’re saying, if Zixiao faces Lü Bu, he wouldn’t dare to supervise the troops either?”
Since they were comrades in the same camp, Chen Cong felt it necessary to give a friendly reminder.
Cao Ren stared at him in confusion. “What’s Lü Bu got to do with it? Do you think his archery could compare to yours?”
Chen Cong kept pulling his bow and shooting arrows, pondering aloud, “Not quite as good, let’s say he’s only half a notch below me—what would you do then?”
Uh…
Cao Ren was speechless; putting himself in someone else’s shoes, if he were Niu Fu, he’d be afraid too.
Lü Bu…
That’s a man who’d seek out Chen Cong for a duel. If Lü Bu really was even more formidable than Chen Cong…
His scalp tingled.
Chen Cong patted Cao Ren on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. When the sky falls, the tallest holds it up. You just stay by your father-in-law’s side and follow orders.”
“That’s true… No, wait! What do you mean ‘just stay by his side and follow orders’? I’m strategizing, the very image of a great general!”
“Well said! Whose great general is it that carries boiling oil to the battlements?”
He bristled, fists clenched.
If he weren’t no match for him, he’d teach this nephew-in-law a lesson!
After exerting his seniority, Cao Ren felt much better.
…
The fierce battle atop the walls continued unabated.
Niu Fu was cowed, but Dong Zhuo was not. He replaced Niu Fu with Xu Rong at the front, and the Liang army’s assault only intensified.
Their tactics differed greatly from Niu Fu’s.
Xu Rong attacked with patience.
After several volleys from the catapults, dozens of siege towers rolled forward, with ladder-bearing braves hidden behind, pushing slowly to twenty paces from the wall.
They arranged shielded archers at intervals to press the weaker flanks of the defenders.
Among the allied generals defending the wall, Wen Chou’s performance was lackluster.
While he was still smug about the deadlock between the two armies, the enemy’s drums suddenly shifted, and the catapults all turned to pound the central gate.
Wen Chou hadn’t noticed that, due to the suppressive fire from below, the allied soldiers had been unconsciously crowding toward the middle.
One or two people squeezing in seemed nothing, but with over ten thousand men on the battlements, crowding became deadly.
A closer look revealed that the closer to the central gate, the more archers—sometimes five, sometimes eight—were huddled behind each arrow slit.
Even if the catapults weren’t precise, in that dense cluster above the gate, one hit meant a dozen men wounded or dead.
By the time Wen Chou realized the problem and tried to push the men to the sides, the Liang drums shifted again.
The siege towers surged forward to the base of the wall, braves pouring out to hook ladders for assault. Meanwhile, a massive battering ram, exploiting the gap left by the central gate, rolled up and began pounding the doors.
Only because this was the mightiest pass in the realm, with many stairways and endless reinforcements, could the defenders repel the attackers.
Had it been a lesser pass, the change in tempo alone would have cost the allies the gate, the city, and their dignity.
The clash of steel and cries of war continued into the night; both sides left thousands dead before the Liang army finally sounded the retreat, temporarily ending the slaughter.
Night atop the city wall.
Chen Cong removed his helmet and shook off the dust, feeling rather satisfied.
That’s defending a city for you—no shame in being battered, as long as you hold the line.

“General Boiling Oil, take a look at Xu Rong—now that’s a true commander!”
Cao Ren wiped the grime from his face, revealing a flash of white teeth.
He laughed, “Zining, you don’t get it. A protracted defense is doomed. If I were in charge, I’d open the gates at once and send out cavalry to slaughter the enemy hiding behind the siege towers.”
“Right, and then the Xiliang cavalry on the other side would have themselves a feast.”
“Zining!”
“Hmm?”
“Whose side are you on?!”
“Hahaha, my apologies. Zixiao has the bearing of a true general. He could surely thrash Xu Rong.”
Bantering, the two returned to the main tent to report.
Inside, they found the mood off.
Yuan Shao wasn’t drinking; every one of the eighteen lords wore a long, ashen face, as if mourning the dead.
The generals behind them had lost their usual spirit, listless and silent.
The silence was suffocating.
Chen Cong nudged Cao Cao, whispering, “What’s wrong, father-in-law? Has the little emperor ascended to heaven?”
Cao Cao almost jumped out of his skin, hurriedly clapping a hand over Chen Cong’s mouth.
“Watch your tongue! The battlefield’s been roughly cleared, and the casualties are in.”
“What’s the tally?”
Cao Cao’s expression darkened. “We lost over four thousand; the enemy, just over five thousand.”
“Wen Chou made a mess of things, and we still lost a thousand fewer than they did—sounds like a win to me!”
Ignoring Wen Chou’s furious glare, Chen Cong shrugged nonchalantly.
Off the walls, rank means nothing. If this guy bared his teeth, he’d get a beating, no question.
Cao Cao tugged at Chen Cong, explaining, “You forgot to count the casualties when Niu Fu was supervising the line.”
Chen Cong understood and fell silent.
So, in the end, a mere Xu Rong had sapped the spirit of the eighteen lords.
Was it really that bad?
“How about tomorrow you let Zixiao try? He claims he can trounce Xu Rong.”
Cao Ren jumped, boasting was one thing, but he didn’t expect anyone to take it seriously.
He protested loudly, “Chen Zining! Don’t slander me. When did I ever say that?”
“All right, enough squabbling.” Yuan Shao rubbed his aching temples and said irritably, “Tomorrow’s defense will be entrusted entirely to Mend, end of discussion. Dismissed.”
The crowd exchanged thoughtful glances and withdrew.
In truth, Cao Cao himself was at a loss…
But often, the outcome of war depends not on how weak your comrades are, but on whether your opponent gives you a chance.
…
Liang army camp.
Niu Fu, who had lost face and was now too scared to fight, called Dong Zhuo “father-in-law” a few extra times.
In the end, he only got a scolding and nothing more.
Meanwhile, Xu Rong, though he had distinguished himself, received no reward. As he explained his tactics with a map, Dong Zhuo slumped on his cushions, yawning incessantly, impatience written all over his face.
The lamplight flickered; time passed slowly.

Xu Rong’s tactical summary neared its end.
Pointing at the map, he concluded,
“A direct assault is unwise. Better to split the force: one crosses the Ji River, passes through Henei to Ao Cang, then divides to hold Chuilong and Guancheng, blocking three key roads, and leaves the southern route open. With so many rival chiefs, they won’t risk all against the Grand Tutor.
If we lure them south to Mi County, the Wei River cuts off the southwestern road, and Meishan blocks the east. There, we’ll bury three hundred thousand rebels.”
“Enough, enough, I’m tired,” Dong Zhuo interrupted, “I expect you to take Sishui Pass in three days. If you succeed, I won’t stint on rewards.”
Xu Rong was left speechless.
He’d spent half an hour explaining, and the Grand Tutor’s conclusion was…
Take Sishui Pass in three days?
And not as commander of the whole army, but just leading the vanguard?
“Grand Tutor, if I may—Sishui Pass is…”
“That’s enough.” Dong Zhuo waved him off. “A band of rabble, nothing worthy of Xiliang’s elite.”
Xu Rong opened his mouth, then clenched his teeth and said, “Your subordinate is incompetent.”
“Hmm?”
Dong Zhuo abruptly straightened, studying Xu Rong intently.
A long silence…
“Very well. Since you held the line, I won’t punish you. If you’re incompetent, Fan Chou!”
Fan Chou’s face lit up; he stepped forward and saluted deeply. “Your subordinate awaits orders!”
“You’ll supervise the vanguard. In three days, I want to sleep soundly atop Sishui Pass.”
“As you command!”
Dong Zhuo yawned hugely and left the tent, two dazzling beauties falling into his embrace.
Laughing, his bloated figure receded into the distance…
Li Ru, as if asleep, had not spoken a word throughout.
Whether Xu Rong was truly talented or Fan Chou a genuine fool—
It no longer concerned him…
“Master Wenyou.”
Li Ru opened his eyes, glanced indifferently at Xu Rong, folded his sleeves, and returned the salute.
“What guidance do you have, General Xu?”
“My suggestion just now—”
Li Ru cut him off. “The Xiliang cavalry are unmatched. Why, General, do you bolster the enemy’s morale and undermine our own?”
Xu Rong was stunned.
Looking at the familiar figure, he suddenly felt like a stranger.
Of what use was boasting of Xiliang’s cavalry if he had only three days to take the pass?
No matter how valiant the Flying Bear Army, they couldn’t sprout wings and fly.
Li Ru waved his sleeve. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”
Xu Rong could only force a bitter smile, clasped his hands in salute, and said, “Farewell, Master.”