Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

The lights in Chengde Hall stayed on until late at night.

Liu Bian did not sleep.

Wang Ming had to urge Hua Tuo to finish the medicine three times before he finally picked it up, drank it, put it down, and continued sitting.

After Xun Shuang and Xun Yu left, the hall was as quiet as a dry well.

Liu Bian sat there thinking all night.

The issue wasn't how to break the deadlock; it was an earlier problem—

He thought he could see history, could see that map, so he moved faster and more urgently than anyone else.

But history is static, while people are dynamic.

Emperor Ling of Han is alive, Yuan Shao is alive, and everyone in this world is making their own choices based on his every move.

He wasn't looking at a map.

He was walking a completely different path from the map, yet he kept thinking he was on the path shown on the map.

Just as this thought subsided, the first ray of light appeared on the horizon.

Liu Bian looked at the light, but his vision gradually blurred, and then darkness followed.

Wang Ming stood guard by the door, not daring to make a sound, only occasionally glancing inside. Every time he looked, the young prince was in the same posture—his back straight, his gaze fixed on a certain spot, motionless.

Finally, as the sky began to lighten, Wang Ming looked inside again and saw Liu Bian lying motionless on the table.

Wang Ming hurriedly stepped forward and helped Liu Bian to the bed.

He looked at the boy on the bed and sighed softly.

-

The Yuan residence.

It was late at night, but Yuan Shu was still laughing.

He slammed his wine cup down on the table, his laughter so loud it could be heard throughout the corridor:

"The Crown Prince?"

"A twelve-year-old kid, he really thinks he's a chess player."

He raised his wine cup and gestured towards Yuan Shao: "Second Brother, you spoke well this time."

"It didn't make His Majesty feel that our Yuan family was trying to seize military power. On the contrary, it made His Majesty feel that he himself wanted to establish the Western Garden and that he himself wanted to guard against the Eastern Palace."

Yuan Shu's smile deepened, but his voice became even more menacing:

"The best part is that you've planted a thorn in His Majesty's heart—the Crown Prince has overreached and is too impatient."

"From now on, if he makes another move, His Majesty will be suspicious."

Yuan Shao sat opposite him, with a cup of wine beside him, but he didn't pick it up.

He simply listened to Yuan Shu speak, his expression calm, with a very faint smile playing on his lips.

That curve wasn't a smile; it was more like a deep, restrained satisfaction.

"The highway," he began, his voice lower and more steady than Yuan Shu's. "Say less."

"What's wrong?" Yuan Shu put the cup down on the table, looked up at him, and said, "We've already won, can't I even say anything?"

"We've won," Yuan Shao said, "but it's not over yet."

Yuan Shu was taken aback for a moment, then frowned: "What do you mean? Wasn't the Crown Prince confined to his quarters? Wasn't Liu Bei's side intercepted? Wasn't Liu Bei's name suppressed? You still say the victory isn't over?"

Yuan Shao picked up his cup, took a sip, put it down, looked at Yuan Shu, and spoke in his usual unhurried tone:

"Gonglu, what kind of person is that Crown Prince?"

He paused, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes:

"But when he was eight years old, he was able to build a business guild from scratch in the Eastern Palace."

"When he was ten years old, he was able to drive Zhao Zhong to the brink of despair, ultimately leading to his death."

"When he was eleven years old, when the Yellow Turban Rebellion was raging, he stabilized grain prices in Luoyang, pushed forward the matter of lifting the ban on the party members, and even managed to get Lu Zhi out of the prison cart."

He recounted these events one by one, his voice still calm, yet possessing a power that compelled listen attentively:

"He panicked tonight and tripped. What will he figure out from this fall?"

Yuan Shu paused for a moment, and the ease on his face faded slightly.

Yuan Shao picked up his cup again, took a sip, and said nothing more.

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Because the answer was already in his words.

A person like that, after taking a fall and figuring things out, will be even more difficult to deal with than before the fall.

Yuan Shu sat there, went over the idea in his mind, and then dismissed it.

He wasn't one to create trouble for himself. He picked up his glass, took another sip, and forced those uncomfortable feelings into the drink.

"Second brother, you sometimes overthink things."

Yuan Shao did not refute.

He simply put down his cup, stood up, and slowly walked a few steps in the front hall, his hands behind his back, as if he were thinking about something else.

"West Garden is built, and Jian Shuo is pressing down on it," he said in a low voice, as if talking to himself.

"In this game of chess, once you've made the first move, you have to think about the third."

Yuan Shu did not respond.

He didn't actually understand.

He simply sat there, finished the last sip of his drink, yawned, and felt he had won enough for the night; tomorrow would be another day.

The lights in the hall burned down to their last bit, and the light began to flicker slightly.

Yuan Shao stood in the lamplight, his back to Yuan Shu, and said nothing more.

He was thinking about something—

What will that twelve-year-old child see if he falls into the pit tonight, climbs out tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow?

-

Lu Mansion.

Only one lamp was lit in the study.

Lu Zhi sat at his desk, on which lay the copy of the recommendation letter that had been left untouched, as well as several other documents.

He is a meticulous person.

Before he even sent out the letter of recommendation, he was already thinking about what to do next if it didn't work.

He spent thirty years in the military, witnessing too many battles that seemed won but were lost, and also too many battles that seemed lost but had a backup plan.

While in the prison cart, he realized something: there was no shortage of loyal and brave people, but not enough useful ones.

All he can do is keep himself useful.

The documents on the table were things he had secretly obtained over the past few days.

The list being checked wasn't from Xiyuan—nobody knew this before the list was released.

He investigated the process, specifically who Emperor Ling of Han handled the list, which court officials he consulted, and the opinions of those officials.

He wasn't looking at the "list"; he was looking at what kind of people His Majesty wanted to be placed in the West Garden without worry.

Avoid factional strife, do not have connections with the emperor's family, do not come from prominent official families, and ideally possess a touch of "frontier spirit" and "popular reputation"—

This way, it can maintain the facade of "selecting generals for the country" without giving people the impression of "a prestigious family holding military power" like Yuan Shikai's case.

He looked at it for a long time, and finally picked up his pen and wrote a name on a new draft.

Lu Zhi finished writing the name, stopped writing, and looked at it for a long time.

He recalled what Liu Bian had said to him when they first met—"Take advantage of the situation."

He just listened and thought the boy was practical and didn't take credit for himself.

Now he understood. It wasn't just about not taking credit; it was a way of doing things—not pushing things yourself, but finding a fulcrum and letting the momentum and events take advantage of it.

What he needs to do tonight is to find a foothold for that child.

The fulcrum is not in the Eastern Palace, not in Xun Yu, and not in Lu Zhi's own name.

It was in a place no one expected.

Lu Zhi stood up, walked to the wall, and looked at the map hanging on the wall.

Luoyang, Xiyuan Garden, Yuan Mansion, and Donggong Palace. These four points form a line.

He looked at it for a long time, then reached out and gently touched the spot on the East Palace.

The crown prince has been placed under house arrest.

Being confined to one's home does not mean that one cannot do anything.

He turned around, blew on the ink to dry the name on the paper, folded it, sealed it in an inconspicuous wooden box, and summoned the butler:

"Tomorrow morning, deliver this to the residence of Xu Guan, the Prefect of Henan. Hand it to Xu Guan personally, without letting it pass through a third person."

The butler took the wooden box, then hesitated for a moment: "Master, this..."

Lu Zhi looked at him and said only one sentence:

"He owes His Highness, and it's time to repay that debt."