Chapter Eighty-Two: The Fall of Guangzong City

Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang had barely returned to the council chamber, still caught in the depths of grief, when they saw a figure anxiously waiting inside. It was the same Yellow Turban soldier who had delivered the message earlier.

Spotting Zhang Bao, the soldier’s face lit up and he hurried forward to report, “General of the Earth, I have investigated thoroughly. The northern gate flies the banner of Huangfu. The western gate bears the Zhu banner. The southern gate has a Dong banner, along with two Yuan banners. Finally, the eastern gate is guarded by the banners of Cao and Sun, and one more Liu banner.” As he finished, his voice faded into uncertainty.

Zhang Bao paid little heed to these details. To him, Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun posed no immediate threat; he knew their strength well enough. As for Dong Zhuo in the south, he was even less of a concern, having already been defeated by Zhang Bao before. The two Yuan banners were unfamiliar and thus not worth worrying about.

The east, however, was crucial. There, not only was the fierce Tiger of Jiangdong, Sun Jian, leading his troops, but most worrisome was Liu Yao, whom Zhang Bao feared the most.

“Go, deliver my command: dispatch ten thousand soldiers to reinforce the eastern gate,” Zhang Bao ordered.

The Yellow Turban soldier obeyed and left at once to relay the command.

At the eastern gate of Guangzong City, carnage reigned. The clash of steel and cries of agony rang out everywhere; with each passing moment, more lives ended, and the ground became a gruesome mill of flesh and blood.

Cao Cao and Sun Jian led their forces in relentless assaults against the city walls. Liu Yao and his five thousand elite troops stood not far behind, observing the scene, making no move to join the fray.

Cao Cao and Sun Jian certainly noticed this, but they were secretly glad Liu Yao chose not to participate. If his troops competed for glory, they might end up with nothing but scraps in the end.

“Master, why don’t we join the attack? Are we going to let those two take all the credit?” Shi Ah asked.

Liu Yao smiled, “Ah, Shi Ah, you don’t understand. As commander, if I claim all the merit and leave nothing for others, what do you think they’ll feel? Besides, these minor achievements are beneath me. If I’m to claim something, it should be the heads of Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang.”

Shi Ah nodded, still somewhat confused; as a wandering swordsman, he was not versed in such matters.

“Charge! No retreat!” A Yellow Turban officer shouted, striking down a fleeing soldier with his blade. He slaughtered seven or eight in quick succession, instilling fear in his men and preventing further attempts to flee.

The city gate commanders were Zhang Jiao and Zhang Bao’s most loyal followers—men who would rather die than betray them. Thus, Zhang Bao entrusted them with such crucial tasks.

Liu Yao saw the moment had come and glanced at Huang Zhong.

Huang Zhong understood, bringing forth the fire arrows he had prepared and shooting them into the night sky.

Three sharp streaks of fire pierced the darkness.

On the city walls, several Yellow Turban soldiers spotted the fiery signals, a glint of understanding in their eyes. One quickly approached the gate commander from behind and cut off his head with a single blow.

The commander, never suspecting a comrade would turn on him, was caught unprepared and killed instantly.

The Yellow Turban soldiers, who had been hurling stones and logs down the walls, froze in shock as their leader was slain by one of their own.

The attacker, holding the severed head aloft, shouted, “Brothers, must we continue to serve this tyrant? Look at how many of us he’s slaughtered! If we keep fighting for him, we’ll only die in vain. Surrender and live!”

His words struck deep, igniting the suppressed fear and resentment among the troops. They had never wanted to fight, only forced by the commander’s threat. Now, with him gone, their hesitation melted away.

“That’s right, I don’t want to die!” one called.

“My mother is still alive at home—who will care for her if I die?” another cried.

“Let’s surrender! I trust Lord Liu will not break his word and will pardon us!” came more voices, accompanied by the clatter of weapons dropped.

With someone leading the way, the rest followed suit, discarding their arms and preparing to surrender.

“Let us go down to welcome the imperial troops into the city!” someone else shouted, and the Yellow Turban soldiers began descending from the wall. The first among them turned back and, with a subtle gesture, saluted Liu Yao.

Indeed, these were Liu Yao’s covert agents, planted within the enemy ranks. Though they could not infiltrate the upper echelons, today they had fulfilled their greatest purpose. Their faces now exposed, they would never again act as spies, but their work was more than enough.

Outside the city, Sun Jian and Cao Cao watched the turn of events in disbelief. They immediately ordered their men to cease the attack, casting puzzled looks at Liu Yao, instinctively sensing his hand behind it all.

Liu Yao met their gaze with a smile and a nod.

Sun Jian and Cao Cao exchanged glances, each seeing the bitter smile in the other’s eyes. They had lost two or three thousand men and barely scratched the walls, while Liu Yao, with a simple scheme, had taken Guangzong in an instant. The difference was staggering.

Before long, the massive gates of Guangzong, once as impenetrable as iron, swung open. The Yellow Turban defenders surrendered, throwing down their weapons and capitulating to Liu Yao.

“Wentai, Mengde, you two now go to the northern and western gates to assist General Huangfu and General Zhu in breaking through. Remember—do not slaughter those who surrender,” Liu Yao instructed Sun Jian and Cao Cao.

“We obey,” they replied, splitting their forces and heading off to assist Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun.

Liu Yao remained, leaving two thousand troops to gather prisoners, while he led the remaining three thousand towards the city lord’s mansion where Zhang Jiao resided.

Inside the mansion, the same Yellow Turban messenger burst in, breathless. “General, the eastern gate has been breached. The Han troops are in the city!”

“What?!” Zhang Bao was stunned. Though the fall of Guangzong had always seemed inevitable, hearing it confirmed left him in disbelief.

“Brother, stop dawdling! If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late!” Zhang Liang pushed the dumbfounded Zhang Bao.

Zhang Bao snapped back, panic etched on his face. “Escape—yes, we must flee! Third Brother, which direction should we take?”

“Brother, the eastern gate is impossible. The north and west are defended by Huangfu Song and Zhu Jun—both formidable. We should take the south. Dong Zhuo, our beaten foe, is nothing to fear. That way, we can head back to Julu and perhaps find a glimmer of hope.”

“Very well, let’s do as you say! Hurry, gather our men!” Zhang Bao urged, rushing out of the mansion. Zhang Liang lingered for a moment, gazing wistfully at the rear courtyard before steeling himself and following Zhang Bao.