Chapter Forty-Six: Yang Ding Makes His Move

After Cao Cao arrived at the camp, he did not leave but instead walked into the tent that Cao Chun had prepared for him. Two hours after Cao Cao’s arrival, Dian Wei also came to the camp with the soldiers. Each man carried a large bundle filled with braised meat and fine wine—rewards that Cao Cao had ordered for the troops, known as the “Farewell to Abstinence Feast.”

The meaning of this “Farewell to Abstinence Feast” was that after this meal, the soldiers would take to the battlefield and “break their abstinence” with bloodshed. This was a privilege reserved for new recruits going into battle for the first time. Although among the 5,500 men, some had killed before, they were all newly enlisted, and this feast was an indispensable ritual.

That night, with Cao Cao present, the atmosphere in the camp was lively. Bonfires burned bright between the tents, the aroma of meat and the shouts of the soldiers carried throughout the allied camps. Cao Hong leaned against a tent pole, quietly watching his 200 men drinking, feasting, and making merry. Some even spent their own money at the military market to buy extra ingredients, adding to the festive spirit. This rich, vibrant atmosphere felt both foreign and familiar to Cao Hong.

It felt foreign because he had fought alone for so long. Yet it was familiar, reminiscent of the days when he underwent mercenary training and lived a brief military life. During those days, he and his comrades were just as close. But later, they were dispatched to different corners of the world, carrying out missions through brokers and earning high rewards. After that, they lost contact with one another.

During those years, some died, some were maimed, some got rich, some disappeared, and some retired. Of course, some, like Cao Hong himself, had crossed into another world.

Cao Cao, holding a jug of wine, staggered over and sat beside Cao Hong. As soon as he opened his mouth, the scent of alcohol wafted out. “Zilian, why not join your men and enjoy the festivities?”

Naturally, Cao Hong would not say he was lost in thoughts of his “previous life.” Instead, he asked a question that piqued his interest, “Elder Brother, who exactly is Sun Wentai?”

Of the thirteen armies gathered to oppose Dong Zhuo, eleven had vanished in the chaos of the times. Only the Cao and Sun families managed to stand tall amid the rising warlords. Was this coincidence, historical inevitability, or both? Hearing Cao Cao express such wariness toward Sun Jian today, Sun’s uniqueness was apparent. Since the Sun family would become the Cao family’s greatest rival, Cao Hong naturally wished to understand more.

Cao Cao paused at the question, then showed a thoughtful expression. “Sun Wentai, in my opinion, is a man with boundless ambition. When you were just two, he was still serving as a county magistrate in Xiapi, on the border of Peiguo, and even then, he was renowned. Later, he fought the Yellow Turbans, campaigned against Bian Zhang and Beigong Boyu, suppressed the bandit chief Qu Xing in Changsha—victorious in every campaign, never defeated. His martial skill is indeed extraordinary, but above all, it is his heroic spirit that stands out. He is the kind of natural hero who, without any gesture of kindness, can inspire countless men to follow him unto death.”

Receiving such high praise from Cao Cao was testament to Sun Jian’s greatness. Cao Hong suddenly thought of another question. “Elder Brother, among the thirteen columns of troops, which one does the traitor Dong fear the most?”

Cao Cao smiled, “I would like to say it is our own, but the truth is otherwise. Dong Zhuo likely regards us as little more than ants.”

Such words revealed Cao Cao’s open-mindedness. Cao Hong smiled, waiting for him to continue. Cao Cao said, “The one Dong Zhuo fears most must be Sun Wentai. Sun’s soldiers are fiercely loyal—a steel army that cannot be scattered. If I were Dong Zhuo, I would send my finest troops and generals to keep Sun outside the capital region.”

Cao Hong pondered this in silence. The largest battle he had ever experienced involved fewer than a hundred men, and even then, he had slain dozens himself. As for large-scale battlefield tactics, he was utterly ignorant and could not offer any opinions.

Seeing Cao Hong silent, Cao Cao patted his shoulder with a laugh. “Zilian, great battles are upon us—it’s best to seize the moment!” With that, he rose and left. Watching him go, Cao Hong sighed inwardly. Only now did he realize that, when living through these events, the sparse words in history books were of little help. For instance, he had no idea where the first great battle would erupt, or how things would unfold afterward. How had such a motley, divided alliance managed to drive Dong Zhuo from Luoyang?

Cao Hong had no answer.

After the “Farewell to Abstinence Feast,” the soldiers returned to their tents to rest. Cao Hong lay on his comfortable bedding, his eyes fixed on the sword “Nameless” by his feet, murmuring to himself, “I can only take things one step at a time.”

The next morning, as Cao Hong awoke and prepared to send his personal attendant to fetch water for his morning wash, he heard the drums sounding in camp. The beating of the drums signaled assembly. After three rounds of the drum, the officers were to gather in the commander’s tent, and the soldiers in front of their tents. Anyone not in place would be punished by flogging.

Thus, Cao Hong donned his bright armor, slung “Nameless” over his back, and made his way to Cao Cao’s great tent. Being the closest, he arrived first. Cao Cao was already in full battle attire, with Dian Wei behind him, similarly dressed. Cao Cao greeted him with a smile, and Cao Hong bowed respectfully. Dian Wei also smiled and nodded in greeting.

After Cao Hong was seated, Cao Chun, Wei Zi, Yue Jin, Xiahou Dun, Xiahou Yuan, Cao Ren, and Liao Hua arrived in turn. Once all were seated, Cao Cao began, “Early this morning, my spies in the capital sent a report: Yang Ding has sent out three columns from Hulao Pass—one toward Taixi Pool, one to Peach Blossom Valley, and one to Huancui Valley. All three locations are within a hundred miles of Suanzao, and they are the critical routes from Suanzao to Hulao Pass.”

In those days, spies came in many forms: some hid in the shadows as sentinels, others scouted the roads openly, and still others disguised themselves as civilians—traders, farmers, or even camp followers. Some might even be enemy soldiers. No one knew exactly who or how many spies Cao Cao had, as this was a matter he handled personally.

Intelligence, whether in ancient or modern times, is always the key to victory.

When Cao Cao finished, Xiahou Dun asked, “Why does Yang Ding not simply defend the formidable Hulao Pass, but instead sends troops to hold the dangerous routes? Is this not unwise?”

Hulao Pass was a mighty fortress east of Luoyang, connected to Song Mountain in the south and bordered by the Yellow River in the north. The mountains crisscrossed to form natural barriers. Without scaling the mountains or crossing by boat, the pass was impassable. Its walls rose twenty-five meters high, making a direct assault extremely difficult. It was far easier and safer to defend the pass than to guard the approaches.

That was why Xiahou Dun had asked such a question. Cao Cao replied, “Yang Ding is a man of grand ambition, from a powerful clan in Xiliang. His troops are used to fighting northern tribes, and he has recruited many brave, fierce foreigners. Confident in his own strength, he wishes to provoke a battle and win a great victory, to make a name for himself among Dong Zhuo’s generals.”

Cao Chun nodded. “Elder Brother is right. Dong Zhuo’s generals are divided into factions—none truly submit to one another, and competing for glory is commonplace.” He was familiar with Dong Zhuo’s forces from his service in Luoyang.

Xiahou Yuan said, “In that case, let’s crush them! I refuse to believe our hundred thousand allied troops could lose to mere Yang Ding!”

Cao Cao laughed, “I have already sent word to Benchu at Suanzao, instructing him and Bao Xin of Jibei to march at the same time. We will attack Yang Ding from three directions, shattering his morale. Meanwhile, the rest of our armies will follow behind, and when our three columns, disguised as Yang Ding’s routed troops, trick the gates of Hulao Pass into opening, we will launch a full assault. Once the gates are open, our tens of thousands will pour in—Hulao Pass will surely fall, and then our blades can point straight at Luoyang!”

The generals, hearing this, immediately clamored for battle. Cao Cao was indeed a master of strategy, devising such a brilliant plan in an instant. It seemed entirely feasible. Cao Hong, listening, also thought the plan flawless. Disguising as routed soldiers was a ruse straight from The Art of War and well worth attempting, so he voiced his support.

At that moment, a soldier outside the tent announced loudly, “My lord, an envoy from Governor Yuan requests an audience!”

Cao Cao and the generals exchanged smiles. “At last!” Cao Cao replied in a loud voice, “Show him in!”