The Three Kingdoms: The entire Cao Cao camp thought I was weak and frail.

"My lord, let's go!"

Uncle Wang shouted hoarsely.

Xun Kun glanced intently at the center of the fire, then mounted his horse. "Go! Southeast!"

The group stopped fighting and, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the bandits, turned their horses around and galloped off in the opposite direction from the fire.

The wind howled in my ears, and behind me were towering flames and heart-wrenching screams.

Safe.

The moment this thought flashed through Xun Hao's mind, everything went black, as if all the strength in his body had been drained away, and he collapsed forward.

"Ah Hao! What's wrong?" Xun Kun panicked and reached out to help him.

The moment his hand touched Xun Hao, Xun Hao's body trembled violently, and he could no longer suppress the metallic taste rising in his throat.

"puff--"

A mouthful of blood gushed from his mouth, spraying all over his plain white clothes.

"Ah-Hao!"

Xun Kun's horrified scream was the last sound he heard before his consciousness faded into darkness.

"Young master!"

"The young master has fainted!"

For the next few months, Xun Hao remained bedridden.

He slept day and night, occasionally waking up for a brief moment, but he was always cold and too weak to speak. Bowls of bitter medicine were poured down his throat, but it was like throwing stones into the sea, showing no improvement whatsoever.

Everyone in the Xun family of Yingchuan knew that the eighth son, Xun Hao, that clever and quick-witted child, had been ill ever since he was frightened by the bandits, and his condition showed no signs of improvement.

The uncles and elders in the clan all sighed with regret.

Only Xun Hao himself knew that this was not an illness, but the price of overdrawing his life force.

That activation of his "last plan" drained thirty percent of his "life essence." He was young and frail; wouldn't he need to rest and recuperate for a while?

"Young master, it's time to take your medicine."

The maidservant, carrying a warm bowl of medicine, carefully helped him up.

Xun Hao obediently drank the bowl of dark medicine, feeling the negligible warmth slide into his stomach; this medicine was a drop in the ocean.

Although the days spent lying in bed were difficult, they also gave him enough time to think about his future.

This era is about to descend into chaos.

The Yellow Turban Rebellion two years later was just the beginning. What followed was Dong Zhuo's tyranny, the fragmentation of China by warlords... and most importantly, the chaos of the Five Barbarian Invasions, leaving nine out of ten houses empty.

The Han Chinese population in the north has plummeted from 3000 million to less than 400 million, and Confucian classics have been reduced to less than one-tenth of their original quantity. This is a turmoil that anyone who knows the future would want to change.

It seems he is destined to spend the rest of his life on a sickbed.

Half a month later, Xun Hao's health finally improved somewhat, and he was able to get out of bed and walk around.

On this day, his father Xun Kun and his seventh brother Xun Yu came to visit him.

At the young age of nineteen, Xun Yu was already hailed as a "talent fit to assist a king," and his name was renowned throughout Yingchuan.

He looked at his younger brother, whose face was still as pale as snow, his eyes filled with heartache.

"Ah Hao, how are you feeling today?" Xun Yu reached out and touched his forehead. Thankfully, it wasn't hot.

"I'm much better, thank you for your concern, brother." Xun Hao smiled slightly, revealing a well-behaved smile befitting his age.

Xun Kun sat to the side, looking at his youngest son's frail appearance, and recalling his son's completely different behavior on the official road that day, his heart was filled with mixed feelings.

"Father, elder brother," Xun Hao seized the opportunity, "I heard from the servants that there are more and more refugees outside now. I'm really worried about Grandmother and Mother. Father's term is over, shouldn't we go back to Yingchuan?"

Xun Yu frowned slightly upon hearing this.

He was more perceptive than his father and had already sensed the impending storm brewing in the world.

Although Jinan was where my father served, it was ultimately not like Yingchuan, which was the foundation of the Xun family.

Time flies, and a year has passed in the blink of an eye.

During that year, Xun Hao completely got used to the role of the "sickly beauty".

He spent most of his time in his room, ostensibly for "quiet recuperation," and refused to see any outside guests.

His daily companions, besides the mountains of books and scrolls, were the bitter medicinal soup.

Xun Kun finally resigned and returned to his hometown, Yingchuan. Yes, the efficiency was that low. By the time the new Chancellor of Jinan arrived and the handover was completed, it was already autumn of the sixth year of Guanghe.

I've heard that there are other local officials who were killed by bandits before they even took office.

To celebrate the move and to allow the renowned elder brother Xun Yu to make more connections with the local scholars and talents of Yingchuan, the Xun family held a grand literary gathering.

On the day of the literary gathering, the Xun residence was filled with guests and distinguished guests.

Almost all the famous scholars of Yingchuan, regardless of age, were present.

They gathered in small groups, engaging in lively discussions; or sat on the ground, drinking wine and composing poems, creating a scene of refined elegance.

As a somewhat socially anxious modern person, Xun Hao has always kept his distance from such occasions.

He quietly chose the most inconspicuous corner to sit down, with a cup of tea in front of him and a scroll in his hands, trying to isolate himself from the hustle and bustle around him.

His figure was thinner than his peers, and the moon-white robe he wore seemed somewhat sparse on him. Perhaps due to his long illness, his skin was an almost transparent white, and his lips were pale. Sunlight filtered through the lush locust tree leaves, casting dappled shadows on him, making his refined and otherworldly face appear even more ethereal.

"Hey, isn't this Wenruo's precious little brother?"

A slightly lazy, yet somewhat mocking voice rang out above his head.

The voice was beautiful, as if it had been infused with fine wine, possessing a unique magnetism.

Xun Hao paused for a moment.

He looked up.

What comes into view is a pair of radiant, captivating peach blossom eyes.

The owner of those eyes was a boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old.

He wore a long, wide-sleeved robe, made of fine material, but it was worn somewhat haphazardly, with the collar slightly open, revealing a section of his fair collarbone. His hair was loosely tied back with a jade hairpin, with a few unruly strands hanging down his forehead, adding to his dashing and unrestrained air.

The boy was slightly bent over, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, as if he were looking at a novel and interesting rare object.

A name almost slipped out of Xun Hao's mind.

Guo Jia.

Guo Fengxiao, the genius of Yingchuan.

This unparalleled strategist, destined to leave a significant mark on history, died young.

At this moment, he was still an unknown young man, but his innate elegance and intelligence could no longer be hidden.

Xun Hao glanced at him briefly before lowering his eyes again to continue reading his book, maintaining a cold and aloof demeanor that kept people at arm's length.

He didn't want to get involved with anyone, especially this kind of womanizing playboy who looked like he was always in trouble.

Guo Jia, seeing that he was being so disrespectful, was not angry at all; on the contrary, he found it even more amusing.

His playful nature was completely aroused.

Guo Jia simply sat down next to Xun Hao, leaning back slightly and teasingly remarking in a slightly irreverent tone, "Tsk, you're really handsome. You look a bit too plain, like a porcelain doll, as if a gust of wind would knock you over. Why do you always have that frown on your face? What's there to worry about at such a young age?"