Chapter Eighty-Four: Let the Hunter Fall into His Own Trap

The banquet buzzed with lively conversation. Yuan Shu, while urging his guests to toast Cao Hong, took the opportunity to introduce those present. All were his own civil and military officials. Among the civil officials, only Zheng Tai was of any particular note; the rest were inconsequential, having neither any prior dealings with Cao Hong nor any mention in the annals of history. Naturally, Cao Hong paid them little mind. He did, however, take note of several of Yuan Shu’s generals.

Their martial prowess was impressive—no fewer than five surpassed his own son-in-law, Huang Yi, in cultivation. One was named Ji Ling, an acting commandant under Yuan Shu; another, Lei Bo, served as colonel. There were also Zhang Xun, Qiao Rui, and Liang Gang, all holding important posts. Each had reached the pinnacle of the Spirit-Refining stage. Of them, Ji Ling was but a step away from breaking through to the next great realm. In terms of individual martial might, Yuan Shu’s generals could not match those of Cao Cao, but in sheer number of high-level warriors, Yuan Shu’s retinue far surpassed him.

In addition to these five was a general named Le Jiu, also at the peak of Spirit-Refining. There was even a yellow-haired barbarian named Chang Nu, gifted with prodigious strength. Though his cultivation was only at the middle stage, his body seemed forged of bronze and iron, suggesting some arcane art akin to Shi A’s legendary swordsmanship.

And this was not to mention those generals stationed elsewhere. At this moment, Yuan Shu could truly claim an impressive array of troops and officers.

After several rounds of drinks, Zheng Tai unexpectedly spoke. “General Cao, are you aware that Sun Wentai has been appointed Inspector of Yu Province by the Rear General’s recommendation?”

Huang Yi, seated nearby, added with a smile, “Indeed. Only the Rear General possesses the strength to support Sun Wentai as governor of a province.”

Cao Hong was taken aback, puzzling aloud, “But is not Kong Zhou, styled Gongxu, the Inspector of Yu Province? Did he not join the campaign against the traitor Dong?”

Zheng Tai sighed. “Kong Gongxu led his troops to resist when Dong’s men pillaged the borderlands of Yu Province, but he was defeated and killed in battle. Now, it is only due to the Rear General’s support of Sun Wentai that Yu Province remains stable.”

Cao Hong fell silent at this. He recalled how Kong Zhou had withdrawn his forces from the Sour Jujube encampment to defend Yu Province, ostensibly to support the coalition, but in truth to guard against Yuan Shu and Sun Ce seizing his territory. No one could have foreseen that, in the space of a few months, he would fall at Dong Zhuo’s hands.

Seeing Cao Hong’s silence, Zheng Tai pressed on. “General Cao, the coalition in the east is plagued by hidden agendas; they make no progress and allow the traitor Dong to rampage unchecked. Your kinsman, Cao Mengde, though he advanced, was defeated and severely weakened. Now only the Rear General and Sun Wentai continue to stand against Dong. Who truly has the will and the power to defend the realm? Surely you can see for yourself.”

His meaning could not have been clearer: only Yuan Shu possessed both the strength and the resolve to oppose Dong Zhuo. Cao Cao had been defeated and left crippled, while Sun Jian’s appointment as Inspector of Yu Province was entirely thanks to Yuan Shu. Had it not been so, after Sun Jian’s defeat in the capital commandery, he would have become a homeless fugitive. After all, Changsha lay within Jing Province, which by now was surely controlled by Liu Biao and the great clans. With no troops, how could Sun Jian return to Changsha?

Ji Ling, too, spoke up. “Precisely. The Rear General is a man of talent and vision, commanding vast forces. Brother Zilian, now that your family fortune is exhausted and you have no way back, do you still believe your kinsman, left with only a handful of worn troops, is the best choice?”

Zheng Tai and Ji Ling, trading remarks, wove a most tempting argument—one that was entirely truthful. In every measure, Yuan Shu outstripped Cao Cao, and Zheng Tai’s allusion to Sun Jian’s appointment was a subtle hint: should Cao Hong wish it, Yuan Shu could just as readily recommend him as Inspector.

Yuan Shu himself merely smiled, watching Cao Hong, savoring perhaps the flattery he had received earlier. This was precisely what Cao Hong had hoped for, since Liu Ye’s plan was to disregard the persuasions of Yuan Shu’s retainers and instead influence Yuan Shu directly, for Liu Ye believed the man himself would be the easier target.

Thus, Cao Hong smiled faintly and said, “Do you all imagine that my allegiance to my cousin was truly out of a desire to right the wrongs of the realm?”

His words startled everyone. If not to restore order—if not to campaign against Dong Zhuo—then why? All the world rode out under that pretext; even his lord, Cao Cao, invoked it to rally the heroes of the land. Was this not a rhetorical question?

Only Yuan Shu seemed to sense something, and with a knowing smile, asked, “Then, Zilian, for what reason do you aid Mengde?”

Cao Hong returned his gaze and answered with a smile, “Naturally, to carve out a name for myself!”

At this, the assembly burst out laughing. Ji Ling said, “Who among us does not wish for fame and glory? Zilian, you are stating the obvious.”

Zheng Tai shook his head with a faint smile. To help Cao Cao win renown? Truly the words of a mere man of arms, ignorant of grander purpose. It seemed persuading him to join their lord would not be difficult.

Yuan Shu, however, recalled Cao Hong’s earlier claim of being a descendant of Emperor Shun. Connecting the dots, his interest deepened. “And what sort of name do you seek to carve out, Zilian?”

Cao Hong did not answer directly, but instead said, “When I returned home to sell off my family property, it was not to raise troops for my cousin, but to rally support for him, urging him to move south into Yang Province and observe the tides of the world from there.”

This was a bombshell. The Cao family was an influential clan in Yang Province. His uncle was Prefect of Wu, his friend Liu Xun served as Prefect of Lujiang, and the Inspector Chen Wen was also an acquaintance. Having grown up in the province, Cao Hong was on good terms with its great families. If Cao Cao truly wished to establish himself there, it would not be difficult.

Yuan Shu’s countenance shifted repeatedly upon hearing this, and Zheng Tai was left bewildered by Cao Hong’s seemingly irrelevant words. The military men, meanwhile, pondered the consequences of Cao Cao’s entrance into Yang Province. Only Cao Hong himself remained unruffled—Liu Ye’s plan was working perfectly.

Liu Ye had predicted that no one under Yuan Shu would suspect his imperial ambitions, for a mere analogy would not lead anyone to such thoughts. When Cao Hong asked him why, Liu Ye had said that, being himself of imperial blood, he alone could accurately judge when another harbored aspirations for the throne. Thus, as long as Cao Hong hinted to Yuan Shu that his intentions were understood, sowed confusion among his persuaders, and then proposed Cao Cao’s entry into Yang Province, Yuan Shu and his advisers would find themselves at odds.

Those advising Yuan Shu to win over Cao Hong would still fixate on that goal, hoping to forestall the threat of Cao Cao seizing Yang Province. But Yuan Shu himself, dreaming of great power with the support of the local magnates, would see the chance to declare himself emperor. Crucially, Cao Hong had spoken of “building a great enterprise,” then mentioned Cao Cao’s entry into Yang Province, and alluded to Yuan Shu’s imperial lineage—every word suggesting that he sought to serve an emperor, not simply restore the Han.

This was music to Yuan Shu’s ears.

At that moment, Yuan Shu acted just as Liu Ye had foreseen. “Ha ha ha! My friends, tonight let us speak only of poetry and the moon, not of statecraft. Zilian, you must stay in my mansion tonight! I wish to talk by candlelight with you long into the night!” Yuan Shu raised his cup in laughter.

Cao Hong replied with a smile, “It would be my honor!”

Zheng Tai and Ji Ling, completely baffled, realized only that now was not the time to press their case. Their lord clearly had other plans. As a strategist, Zheng Tai felt a profound sense of unease, yet found himself unable to voice it. For the first time, he was utterly at a loss.

Was this Cao Hong truly just a man of arms? Zheng Tai could not help but doubt.

Meanwhile, Cao Hong was filled with utter admiration for Liu Ye. This was the mark of a true adviser and strategist—one whose schemes unfolded perfectly even in his absence. Such was true mastery of the art of war.

It seemed the intellectuals of this era possessed abilities beyond reckoning. Cao Hong resolved to be far more cautious in the future.