Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3831: External defense
Old Wang's sudden turn of events caused Li Qi to pause for a moment.

Old Wang was panting heavily, his eyes darting back and forth between Zhu Ling and Li Qi, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly, yet tinged with relief, "You little rascal...you're really something...trying to drag me along...to find a new way to live, huh?"

"That's right..." Li Qi said in a low voice, the short blade still pressed against Old Wang's throat, "Brother Wang, let's try another path... whether it's a dead end or a life-or-death one depends on your choice... Brother Wang, you know how Cao Cao's army has treated us. The Flying Cavalry... it's different... you know how they've been these past few days... at least they've been eating proper meat and bread..."

"Proper meat..." Old Wang paused for a moment, then sighed deeply, slowly pushing away the short blade at his neck. "Count me in... I never thought this day would come. Proper meat... Sigh! If there's something decent to eat, who the hell would want to eat... that stuff?"

Yes, if there were proper stir-fried dishes prepared in large pots, who would want to eat that...?

The key point is that it still needs a proper price!

Even if something is boasted about with earth-shattering and supernatural force, you can understand it simply by looking at whether the rulers of feudal dynasties actually ate it on a daily basis or whether they put on a show for others.

Zhu Ling stepped forward, staring at Old Wang, "Want to live? If you take the mountaintop camp, you'll be a hero. If you try anything funny..."

Zhu Ling's gaze swept over the still-warm corpse on the ground, her unspoken meaning clear.

Old Wang looked at the corpses of Cao Cao's soldiers around him, sighed, and nodded dejectedly: "I...I'll listen to you. Zhao Mazi at the mountaintop camp...I have some connections with him, perhaps...perhaps he can put in a good word for me."

"If there's only a possibility, then you're finished!" Zhu Ling said in a deep voice.

"Absolutely! Definitely!" Old Wang patted his chest confidently. "Absolutely!"

Zhu Ling pondered for a moment, then waved her hand, "Take him up! Keep an eye on him!"

Then he said to Old Wang, "Our cavalry keeps its word. If we succeed, you'll not only be spared death, but you'll also receive merit! If we fail, you'll be the first to die!"

"I understand, I understand..."

As night deepened, Mount Beiman was shrouded in silence, with only the mournful sound of the mountain wind whistling through the bare branches.

Old Wang walked in front, followed closely by Li Qi and one of Zhu Ling's men on either side. Behind them were several elite cavalrymen disguised as Cao Cao's soldiers. In the darkness, the bloodstains and dirt on these hastily donned Cao Cao's armor were not noticeable.

They made their way along a path that was hardly a trail, towards the largest Cao army outpost on the mountaintop.

The mountaintop campsite was indeed much larger than the one below, and the wooden watchtower stood like a silent giant in the darkness.

There were a few sentries scattered around the edge of the camp, but perhaps the long period of calm had numbed their senses, or perhaps the chill of the autumn night made them huddle up, so the vigilance was not very tight.

"Halt! Who goes there?" A somewhat hoarse voice shouted as they approached the camp fence, accompanied by the slight sound of a bowstring being pulled.

"It's me! It's me!" Old Wang responded quickly, holding up the wild rabbit in his hand. "And Brother Li Qi! Got some game? Come find Zhao Yingtou for a drink! This awful weather, it's freezing!"

Wild rabbit, not wasted, brought out again.

The position of "Yingtou" wasn't a proper official post, but the wild rabbit in Old Wang's hands was a legitimate food source.

Is an improper official position more important, or the proper food in Old Wang's hands?
A moment later, the answer was found.

When proper food is plentiful, improper official positions can be effective.

A Cao soldier with a bow emerged from the shadows behind the bushes. Using the dim light of the campfire in the center of the camp, he sized them up, recognizing Old Wang and Li Qi. Looking at the blurry figures behind them, he muttered, "Oh, it's you... Commander Zhao is warming himself by the fire in the shack. Go inside, don't make a sound."

Old Wang secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then turned back and gave Zhu Ling a wink. The group quickly slipped into the camp.

In the center of the camp, several Cao soldiers were whispering to each other around a small campfire.

A little light shone from a large shack near the watchtower.

Old Wang led the group straight to the shack, lifted the straw curtain to block the wind, and a smell mixed with sweat, smoke and cheap liquor hit them.

Although some people wondered why Old Wang's "men" dared to enter the camp's shacks, no one wanted to meddle.

Inside the shack, a burly military officer named Cao Jun, whose face was covered in pockmarks, was warming himself by a small fire pit, holding a wine flask in his hand.

"Zhao Yingtou!" Old Wang called out, forcing a smile, "Look what your brother brought you!"

Zhao Mazi raised his head, his eyes still blurry with drunkenness, and looked towards the door. He first saw Old Wang and the rabbit in his hand, grinned, and then his gaze swept over Li Qi who followed him in, as well as the unfamiliar faces behind Li Qi, who, although dressed in Cao army armor, had a solemn and imposing aura.

Zhao Mazi's smile froze for a moment. "Old Wang? Li Qi? What are you all doing together? And with some unfamiliar faces..."

Li Qi stepped forward, tossed the other wild rabbit he was carrying to the ground, and said with a smile, "Brother Zhao, I got this down the mountain. I thought it would be warm here, and you have some wine, so I brought it along... This one's new here down the mountain, so I thought I'd come and meet Commander Zhao..."

Zhu Ling and the others stood silently behind Li Qi with their heads down, seemingly casually, but actually blocking the entrance to the shack.

"New here?"

Zhao Mazi's gaze lingered on Zhu Ling for a moment.

Although Zhu Ling kept his head down, the straight back and the faint murderous aura emanating from him intensified Zhu Ling's unease, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that made him uneasy. He'd been plagued by so many anxieties lately that he'd become somewhat numb.

The normal procedure is that newly recruited personnel should report to him first, but thinking about it, don't these people also have to walk up from the foot of the mountain and pass through Li Qi's checkpoints?
Thinking about it that way, it seems to make sense?
Zhao Mazi chuckled dryly twice, gesturing, "Come, come, sit down, everyone! Since we're brothers, there's no need for formalities... It's quite cold outside... There's not much wine left, just have a drink."

Old Wang sat down, tossing the rabbit to the ground, but instead of taking Zhao Mazi's wine flask, he sighed and said directly, "Brother Zhao, when will this ever end..."

Zhao Mazi squinted, poking at the firewood in the hearth. "Who knows... I heard the fighting is fierce in Shaanxi and Tianjin... Sigh, we're lucky to even survive on this mountain."

"Save our lives?" Li Qi interjected, lowering his voice. "Commander Zhao, do you really think... we can save our lives like this? We haven't received our pay, we don't have enough food, and if the Flying Cavalry really attacks, with so few of us on Mount Beiman... who can we possibly hold off?"

The atmosphere in the shack instantly became somewhat stagnant.

Zhao Mazi looked up at Li Qi, seemingly sobering up considerably. He glanced at Old Wang, then his gaze settled on the silent Zhu Ling, his expression slowly hardening. "What...do you mean by that?"

Old Wang steeled himself and said, "Brother Zhao, don't play dumb! Don't you know what kind of people Cao Cao's army is? The Flying Cavalry has already..."

Zhao Mazi's expression changed, and he suddenly reached for the ring-pommel sword beside him!

Just as he started moving his hand, Zhu Ling, who had been keeping her head down, suddenly moved!

Zhu Ling sprang up, kicking away the ring-pommel sword in Zhao Mazi's hand. She then tackled Zhao Mazi to the ground, gripping his neck like an iron clamp with one hand, while simultaneously slamming her knee into Zhao Mazi's abdomen!
"Ugh!" Zhao Mazi groaned, the excruciating pain instantly draining his strength.

Li Qi and Old Wang rushed forward at the same time, pinning Zhao Mazi down and covering his mouth.

"Brother Zhao! Don't be foolish! Do you want to die or live?!" Old Wang growled in Zhao Mazi's ear.

Zhao Mazi struggled a few times, but Zhu Ling's strength was far beyond his ability to resist, and the excruciating pain in his abdomen made him weak all over. Looking at the cold gazes of the people in front of him, and feeling the sharpness of his vital points, his struggles gradually weakened, and his eyes were filled with fear and despair.

Zhu Ling leaned closer to him, her voice icy, "If you shout, you'll be dead. Cooperate obediently, take the camp, and you might have a chance to live, maybe even... a new path."

Outside the hut, several of Cao Cao's soldiers by the campfire seemed to have heard some slight noise.

"Head of the camp! Is there anything I can help you with?"

Someone called out.

A cavalryman guarding the entrance to the shack immediately laughed and shouted outside, "It's nothing, it's nothing! Commander Zhao was a bit drunk and tripped!"

Those outside were skeptical, but seeing that nothing much was happening and Zhao Mazi didn't say anything, they stopped paying attention.

Inside the shack, Zhao Mazi was panting heavily, cold sweat pouring down his face. Finally, like a deflated balloon, he stopped struggling and nodded with difficulty.

Zhu Ling gestured for Li Qi and Old Wang to loosen their grip a little, but still maintained control.

"Get your men back to camp..." Zhu Ling said succinctly, "Put down your weapons and keep them under close surveillance! Anyone who dares to resist will die!"

With Zhao Mazi's cooperation, the process went surprisingly smoothly.

Although the Cao army soldiers outside were somewhat puzzled, they still entered the shack one after another under Zhao Mazi's orders.

What awaited them was swift and silent subjugation and disarmament. Occasionally, one or two who became alert and tried to resist were instantly dealt with by the cavalrymen with sharp blades and crossbow bolts, without making much of a sound.

In less than half an hour, the entire Cao army camp on the mountaintop was under the control of Zhu Ling and his men. Thus, the former Cao army spy on Beiman Mountain was completely under the control of the Flying Cavalry.

The ferry crossing just a stone's throw below the mountain, and Cao Cao's army in Luoyang, remained completely unaware of this silent upheaval.

Zhu Ling stood on the watchtower, looking north.

As night deepened, the Yellow River, like a giant black ribbon, surged and flowed in the distance.

"Send a signal to the other side..." Zhu Ling ordered his men.

Three bonfires, arranged in a triangular pattern, were lit.

……

……

Great historical events are often recorded only by the name of a hero or a few important figures involved. However, in reality, the main participants in any great historical event are always ordinary people and soldiers.

Old Wang, Zhao Mazi, and a whole host of other people who didn't even have names.

The rulers of feudal dynasties liked to attribute scriptures to sages and history to heroes. In the beginning, perhaps because the common people liked such plots and stories, they went along with it and concentrated the power of the majority on a certain person to satisfy the people's sense of identification.

But what's interesting is, where does this need for public identification come from? Is it before or after the public vaguely realizes that they are the driving force of history and the great witnesses?

Was this centralized historical narrative of "heroes" intentional or unintentional?

And who did this?

The origin of the "hero" model in historical narratives lies in the combination of power and narrative, and in the need for legitimacy and authority of feudal dynasties. This narrative model is not "unintentional," but often a "deliberate" construction aimed at simplifying complex social movements, fostering popular worship and dependence on the ruler, and thus reducing challenges to existing power.

If you're in trouble, just wait for a 'hero' to come to your rescue!

The official promotion of Guanyin Bodhisattva, who is believed to save people from suffering, by feudal dynasties is actually a common tactic...

By highlighting heroic narratives, rulers can direct public attention and obscure social contradictions or the true power of the people. As someone once said, historical narratives are always intertwined with power relations; whoever controls the narrative controls the meaning of history.

Of course, this isn't all bad; every problem has two sides.

The public may vaguely realize that they are drivers of history, but this awareness is often suppressed or obscured. Therefore, narratives of heroism become a compensatory mechanism. By identifying with heroes, ordinary people indirectly feel a sense of power. Ordinary soldiers may find their value in praising their leaders, but this actually reflects their inner desire for a meaningful role.

The portrayal of heroes also provides role models for behavior and values. By identifying with these heroes, the public learns how to cope with challenges, thereby strengthening social cohesion…

However, the problem lies in how to understand it correctly and how to provide proper guidance.

However, emphasizing someone's strength or absolutizing someone's wisdom will ultimately lead to bitter consequences.

Just like Xun Yu in the present day.

The chill of late autumn, like an invisible tide, quietly seeped into every inch of Cao Cao's camp in Shaanxi and Tianjin.

As night falls again, the faint sounds that were drowned out by the gunfire and shouts during the day begin to amplify and echo in the silence.

Xun Yu dragged his exhausted body back to the central command tent. Without even removing his armor, which was stained with blood and dust, he collapsed onto the table and fell into a deep sleep.

The relentless, sleepless supervision of the battle, coupled with the psychological impact of wielding his sword to kill his subordinates, had pushed his mental and physical limits to the brink.

However, he was unable to sleep for long.

Around midnight, a sudden burst of noise abruptly entered his ears!

Xun Yu suddenly awoke with a start.

A commotion?!
Xun Yu suddenly stood up, grabbed his sword, and rushed out of the tent.

The rear camp was responsible for the encampment of supplies and auxiliary troops, and was also the area for treating the wounded and sick.

This place is usually filled with either the smell of cattle and horses or the faint groans that drift through the air.

But at this moment, the firelight flickered, and shadowy figures moved about. Hundreds of soldiers gathered together, and the atmosphere was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.

They surrounded the tent where the supply officer was located, and excited shouts erupted from the crowd.

Why are you withholding our rations?!

"The officials are eating their fill of greasy food, while we can't even afford thin porridge!"

"So many brothers died today, and you won't even give them a full meal?"

Surrounded by guards, the supply officer, pale-faced, desperately pleaded, "There was no embezzlement! It's...it's just that the supply route was cut off! This is all that's left in the warehouse! Priority must be given to the frontline troops..."

"Soldiers? Aren't we risking our lives?"

"Which of our wounded brothers around here didn't face death on the front lines?"

"It's clearly you corrupt officials who are lining your own pockets!"

In the chaos, someone pushed someone first, and then the conflict broke out.

First came the waving fists, then it evolved into the waving of knives and guns.

The blood, like water droplets splashed into a hot oil pan, instantly ignited long-suppressed resentment.

The crowd completely lost control, surging forward like a flood bursting its banks.

The guards protecting the rear camp's grain officer were instantly scattered.

The grain official was dragged to the ground and subjected to a barrage of punches and kicks as the attackers vented their anger.

But many more people were grabbing anything they could see in the chaos...

Food, clothing, medicine, even a wooden bowl—anything they could find acceptable.

When Xun Yu arrived, he was met with a scene that resembled hell.

Xun Yu immediately dispatched his personal guards to forcibly suppress the rebellion.

At this point, it would be meaningless to claim to represent the Han Dynasty or the Prime Minister.

When the needs of the common people and ordinary soldiers could not be met, the "heroes" of the feudal dynasty could not control the situation, and their "wisdom" became ineffective.

Are the demands of ordinary people and soldiers really that high?
Indeed, the needs of ordinary people are "growing," but even in later generations, this growth cannot keep up with inflation. Ordinary people enjoy entertainment, but they don't need a huge song and dance troupe to accompany them year after year. As long as they can dance a little on their phones, they'll be content.

Just like in Shaanxi and Tianjin today, ordinary soldiers don't need to eat delicacies that cost tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars per meal. A few cornbread buns or flatbreads to fill their stomachs are enough...

But even this demand was ignored.

Did these people not mention it to Xun Yu?

Was there no warning sign beforehand?
How did Xun Yu respond?
First they dealt with it perfunctorily, superficially, and fobbed it off. But when the current contradictions suddenly erupted, all that was left was violent suppression.

Xun Yu was a "wise man," and in some ways, he could even be considered a "hero" of the Han Dynasty. However, he belonged only to the "Han Dynasty." And throughout history, how many "heroes" have employed the same methods as Xun Yu? Stealing even the last few steamed buns and bread from the common people and ordinary soldiers? Was he being intellectually challenged again? Why did the rulers of these feudal dynasties repeatedly repeat this contradiction?

Xun Yu's timely arrival suppressed the riot and temporarily averted the crisis, but both morale and combat strength of the troops he faced plummeted.

As dawn broke, Xun Yu looked at the chaotic scene before him and remained silent.

"My lord, my lord! What should we do? What should we do?"

Anyone with half a brain knows that this situation is a big problem!
Even if we manage to get through today, what about tomorrow?
Xun Yu looked up to the sky and sighed deeply. After a long while, he slowly said, "Withdraw the troops..."