Chapter Forty-Eight: The Campaign Against the Yellow Turbans (Part Nine)

"Full assault!" Zhao Hong gritted his teeth and issued the command. To be honest, this order was as wrong as it could possibly be, but at this moment, behind him lay the yet-to-be-established camp; the soldiers within were unprepared for a government army charge. If the enemy broke through his lines, collapse would be inevitable. The government troops would seize the opportunity, slaughter the fleeing men, and storm straight into Wan City.

Watching the Yellow Turban Army surge forward, a flicker of doubt flashed in Liu Bei’s eyes, though this turn of events fit perfectly with his own calculations.

Guan Yu and Zhang Fei charged from both flanks, leading their troops into the sides of the Yellow Turban formation. Their two internal energy-infused strikes, though not devastating, dealt a blow to the enemy’s morale.

Within the formation, Zhao Hong, witnessing the prowess of these two, felt a chill in his heart. He quickly ordered a contraction and retreat of the lines, but at that moment, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei had already reached the soldiers at the Yellow Turban Army’s flanks.

Blades and spears danced; even with the physical enhancement provided by the mystical cloud aura, the Yellow Turban soldiers could not hold out. With every attack, the two generals felled a dozen men, gradually tearing two breaches in the enemy ranks.

As the formation fell into disarray, the mystical cloud aura weakened. Sun Meng activated his spiritual sight, quickly pinpointing Zhao Hong’s location. He loosed an arrow—there was no need to look further. He leapt from his horse and charged into the Yellow Turban ranks with the soldiers.

Indeed, none of these men were true cavalry; aside from the first row, which was merely for show, the rest were infantry, trailing branches tied to horse tails to kick up dust and deceive Zhao Hong.

Zhao Hong was preparing to command a retreat. Even if they couldn't defeat the Han troops, he was determined to hold the city gates. But he never anticipated the deadly arrow that came from nowhere, piercing his heart and ending his life.

"The commander is dead!" cried Zhao Hong’s personal guards. The panic spread instantly. The formation dissolved, and the Yellow Turban Army scattered like ants, each man desperate to reach the city in hopes of survival.

They did not realize that the city gates were utterly incapable of withstanding Liu Bei’s assault; yet, in their minds, retreating behind those walls was their only chance to live.

Killing a Yellow Turban soldier at random, Sun Meng tore off the man’s yellow scarf and tied it around his own head. His clothes, already prepared and suitably worn, he ripped a few more holes in and smeared with dust. In this way, he blended seamlessly into the Yellow Turban ranks.

With neither command nor formation, the Yellow Turban soldiers managed to escape back into Wan City, shutting the gates before the government troops could overtake them.

After Zhang Fei paraded Zhao Hong’s corpse beneath the walls with a string of curses, the day’s assault drew to a close. Yet Han Zhong and Sun Zhong were filled with dread.

Meanwhile, once inside the city, Sun Meng quickly learned of a strange area within the walls.

Both Yellow Turban leaders were seriously wounded—killing them would be easy—but first, he was determined to investigate that mysterious place.

With that thought, Sun Meng quietly crept toward the fog-shrouded area.

Just as he was pondering a way to enter, the mist dispersed, and a group dressed as soldiers burst out, attacking the unsuspecting Yellow Turban men.

This was an unexpected development. If Han Zhong and Sun Zhong were both present, it would save him the trouble of tracking them down.

---

From the rooftop where he hid, Sun Meng observed the scene below.

Only a portion of these “soldiers” were actually trained; the rest were civilians clad in leather armor and clutching weapons.

The Yellow Turban soldiers, regaining their senses, quickly rallied and forced the attackers back.

Suddenly the Yellow Turban ranks parted, and two armored men stepped forth.

"Han Zhong and Sun Zhong, disciples of the Way of Peace, greet our fellow cultivator!" the pair said in unison. "We did not know you were within the city and have offended you. Now that the government army is upon us, we must unite as one!" Han Zhong declared.

"Hmph! Yellow Turban scoundrels, who is your fellow?" an old man snorted coldly.

"Is such hostility necessary?" Sun Zhong replied. "This uprising failed in haste; the court will never spare us. Rather than flee and hide, let us stake it all on one desperate struggle!"

Listening to them, Sun Meng found it strange. Could there really be someone here who had mastered the mystical arts of the Way of Peace? He recalled how he had found no trace of such arts with Lu Zhi, which made this all the more plausible.

"The formation you used is that of our Yellow Turban Army," Han Zhong accused. "I have seen Senior Brother Bocai use it before—will you still deny it?"

Narrowing his eyes, Sun Meng let fly two arrows.

"Who—" Han Zhong and Sun Zhong, sensing danger, tried to dodge, but their wounds slowed them and Sun Meng’s arrows were too quick. Driven by the force of the arrows, they crashed into the crowd and died without a word.

"The leaders are dead! Why not open the gates and surrender!" Sun Meng cried, sending an arrow charged with inner energy into the sky—a prearranged signal for Liu Bei.

Outside the city, Liu Bei saw the signal, quickly rallied his men, and marched on the gates of Wan.

Sun Meng, meanwhile, shot down several Yellow Turban captains who showed any sign of resistance. "Open the gates and surrender! You might yet have a chance to live!"

His archery had struck fear into everyone present; none wanted to be the next to fall.

The gates opened, and Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei entered at the head of their troops. Wherever they passed, Yellow Turban soldiers knelt upon the ground. Any lingering thoughts of resistance evaporated the moment the city gates were thrown wide.

With the Yellow Turbans’ surrender, the civilians who had feared for their own safety finally breathed a sigh of relief.

---

The heads of various local families stepped forward to greet Liu Bei.

"General, we wish to offer you a great service!" declared the middle-aged man at their head. "I am Zhang Hai, head of a branch of the Zhang clan of Jing Province. The great merit I speak of is none other than the Yellow Turbans’ inheritance of cultivation arts!"

"Zhang Hai!" an old man rebuked him sharply. "Were it not for A-Chou, you would have been dead long ago!"

Zhang Hai turned to him. "Old Huang, why so agitated? It is only a legacy—not your daughter’s life I am after. Besides, it is clear something is amiss with that inheritance, or your daughter would not be lying comatose now, would she?"

"The Yellow Turban legacy? Could it be the mystical Way of Peace?" Liu Bei’s eyes lit up. Thanks to Zhang Jiao, all under heaven had now heard of the Way of Peace, and who would not wish to acquire it?

Seeing Liu Bei’s reaction, Zhang Hai smiled. "General, the legacy is with Old Huang’s daughter. She used a formation from it to block the Yellow Turban attack, but now lies unconscious."

Liu Bei approached Old Huang. "Liu Xuande pays his respects to Old Huang and thanks you for protecting so many civilians. However, that legacy was left by the rebel Zhang Jiao. The court will never allow it to remain in private hands."

Old Huang glanced at Liu Bei. "You may have the legacy, but you must first awaken my daughter. The legacy is hers alone; I cannot remove it from her side by more than a few paces." Though he despised Zhang Hai’s actions, he knew keeping such a thing would only bring disaster—sooner or later, it must be handed over.

At that moment, Sun Meng arrived at the girl’s side. The mystical Way of Peace, now in the form of a jade slip, was clutched in her hand, but Sun Meng had already tested it—it could not be taken more than three meters from her.

Moreover, he could not take it away from this world by himself.

Suddenly, he remembered something: the contract card, which could bind a non-participant and make them his ally. Previously, Sun Meng had considered contracting someone from a quest or trial world—a character he knew well and who might aid him. After all, bringing someone from Earth would risk exposing his greatest secret.

He produced the contract card and approached the girl. Information appeared on the card:

"Yue Ying, female, human, unawakened."

So little information! But the name Yue Ying rang a bell.

At that moment, Liu Bei and the others arrived. Sun Meng acted at once, contracting Yue Ying before anyone else could. As he did, she slowly opened her eyes, a silver light shining from her brow.

"For the Moon Goddess!"