The Deal (1)
As Minju stared piercingly at Diaochan, she showed a faint flicker of fluster.
"Is there something on my face...?"
"Ah, no. No."
Caught off guard in that instant, Minju asked her cautiously.
"What... might your name be?"
"Diaochan."
As expected. Minju's prediction had hit the mark.
As Diaochan withdrew, Wang Yun cut straight to the chase without further probing, his gaze sharpening like a blade.
"I've heard from Paro School Captain Zou why he risked his life to bring you to me. That the court is in dire straits, that leaving the traitor Dong Zhuo unchecked will sever the Han dynasty's lifeline—is that right?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"But Zhang Fei, the world of Luoyang is overflowing with empty talk of such flimsy loyalty. What I truly want to know is this: out of all the ministers, why come to me?"
Minju lifted his head and met Wang Yun's icy eyes head-on. Then, slicing through the hushed air of the study like a thunderclap, he declared in a low, weighty voice,
"Because... Lord Wang Yun is already secretly sharpening the sharpest 'blade' to sever the traitor's head."
With that, Minju's eyes flicked back to Diaochan, whom he'd just glimpsed moments before.
In that instant, the room's atmosphere froze below freezing. Zou Jing, seated beside him, saw his eyes tremble violently—a reaction suggesting he had some inkling of what Wang Yun was preparing.
Wang Yun shot Zou Jing a piercing glare. Zou shook his head vigorously.
"I swear, I never breathed a word of it to Zhang Yide."
The faint, leisurely smile that had lingered on Wang Yun's wrinkled face vanished like a lie. The air of composure evaporated.
"Zhang Fei, was it? Explain what you just meant."
Even under Wang Yun's interrogation laced with killing intent, Minju's voice didn't waver. If anything, it grew clearer, more resolute.
"Dong Zhuo isn't some foe who can be felled by mere clashing soldiers and spears. Flanking him are savage elite troops forged in decades of bloodshed from the Western Liang, and above all, he clutches the Emperor's edicts in his iron grip. To topple such a colossal mountain, you can't just hammer futilely at the gates with a massive army from the outside—it's impossible."
Minju leaned forward slowly as he continued.
"You must carve a fatal crack from the innermost heart of that towering wall, right at the traitor's core. Make the blade he trusts most turn on its master's throat. Shatter the sturdiest shield guarding him from within. Lord Wang Yun... you've already devised that perfect wedge—the Connected Rings Plan, haven't you?"
Crash! Wang Yun instinctively gripped the table to rise and knocked over his teacup.
The legendary genius Wang Yun's pupils shook wildly, as if struck by an earthquake.
"...You..."
After a silence that stretched interminably, Wang Yun rasped out the question with a voice like gravel.
"What... who the hell are you? How dare you spout such nonsense before me!"
It was a roar, but thick with shock. Yet Minju didn't flinch. Instead, in the shadows, he twisted one corner of his mouth into a smirk.
"Merely a commoner who cannot bear to watch four centuries of the Han dynasty crumble away with open eyes."
In that moment—
Shing! Zou Jing drew his sword and leveled it at Zhang Fei's throat.
"Yide. You've crossed a line you shouldn't have."
"..."
"I don't know how you pierced the lord's stratagem, but this operation demands utmost secrecy. I cannot let you leave here alive."
Then... no, Zhang Fei's eyes gleamed with a sharp light.
"Can you truly kill me, Captain?"
"..."
Zou Jing knew it full well. His own martial prowess stood no chance against a battlefield tiger like Zhang Fei.
Yet.
"For the greater cause, I am prepared to offer this body."
His loyalty never bent, even in the face of grim defeat.
That was when—
"Enough!" Wang Yun barked at Zou Jing. "Sheathe your blade."
"But..."
"Now!"
"..."
Zou Jing reluctantly withdrew his sword at Wang Yun's command. Wang Yun slumped back into his seat, speechless for a long while. His aged mind churned like a storm-tossed sea.
The plan he'd been secretly crafting: sow fatal poison between Dong Zhuo and his peerless guardian, the world's mightiest warrior Lu Bu. If he could drive a wedge there, he might breathe life back into the crumbling court—just a faint glimmer of hope.
And now, this young backwater general fresh from crushing Yellow Turbans in You Province had pierced that bone-deep secret strategy perfectly.
Wang Yun growled low, breathing raggedly.
"...So, you claim to know what I intend next."
"Yes. I know it clearly."
"Then are you here to aid it... or to stop it?"
Minju nodded slowly. His answer was firm.
"If I had to choose, the latter."
Blue fire blazed from Wang Yun's eyes.
"You dare? A mere village bumpkin dares obstruct Grand Minister Wang Yun's grand design?"
"Yes. I will obstruct it."
Minju infused his voice with steel.
"Even if your Connected Rings Plan succeeds perfectly and severs the traitor's head... it will ultimately reduce Luoyang—no, the entire realm—to ashes."
Wang Yun sneered coldly, grinding his teeth.
"A country yokel like you—how dare you judge my grand design?"
"Because slaying Dong Zhuo isn't the end! The true hell begins the moment that beast falls."
Wang Yun's facial muscles locked rigid at Minju's resounding, conviction-filled shout.
"Cutting off Dong Zhuo's head won't usher in peace. The instant he dies, tens of thousands of his Western Liang remnants under his banner will rise in mad fury."
When the center collapses, the fringes scatter to survive—self-evident.
"No matter Lu Bu's prowess, he can't fully stem that enraged horde. This imperial capital will drown in irreversible bloodshed once more. Grasping a poison-laced blade to excise rotten flesh will only let the venom spread through your entire body unto death."
A harrowing prophecy only one who had seen the future could utter. Wang Yun's trembling hand slowly clenched the table edge.
"...Then what is your proposal?"
Minju's beastly eyes flashed in the gloom.
"Lu Bu Fengxian. We will tame that tiger completely."
Wang Yun sighed, leaning on his cane.
"...How? By what means will you control that savage beast?"
Minju paused briefly. Then he played his hand: the card Wang Yun most desperately hid, the lethal next move to overturn the board.
"Doesn't Lord Wang Yun already hold the perfect 'trump card' by his side—one that blinds all men's eyes, numbs their reason, and sets their hearts ablaze?"
Minju drove the point home calmly.
"Do not wield that beauty as a bloodied blade. Do not use her as a trap for ruin. Make her the sturdy 'bridge' that Lu Bu will cross of his own accord."
"...Diaochan, that child?"
Wang Yun's lips quivered.
Minju nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. Instead of pitting Dong Zhuo and Lu Bu against each other, give us Lord Wang Yun's daughter. Then we can pull Lu Bu—and his generals and soldiers—over to our side with Liu Bei. Do that, and we'll join the anti-Dong Zhuo coalition to claim the traitor's head once his forces crumble."
"Why such a convoluted path? Just let them tear each other apart."
But Kang Minju thought differently.
"Because this saga's end must take the form of my brother Liu Xuan-de avenging Dong Zhuo's tyranny."
"Why Liu Bei, of all people—a man with nothing? What's the reason?"
"Liu Bei is a distant scion of the imperial house. Distant, yes, but still Liu clan blood of the Han. If such a man cleanses the court's chaos and topples the tyrant Dong Zhuo... it preserves the court's face and authority intact, doesn't it?"
Not borrowing outsider might like Cao Cao or Yuan Shao, but the royal bloodline saving the throne. It gives grounds to uphold imperial prestige.
And for Liu Bei, it's a boon: absorbing talents like Lu Bu, Zhang Liao, Jia Xu into their fold.
A win-win trade.
He stared into the void, lost in thought, then murmured in a voice so quiet even the attendant nearby couldn't hear.
"...Diaochan, come closer."
At those words, Minju's heart began pounding wildly deep in his chest—thump, thump, thump.
"What say you?" Wang Yun asked her will.
Diaochan, who had kept silent, finally spoke.
"I will follow Father's will."
Wang Yun let out another deep sigh. At last, he reached his verdict.
"Zhang Yide, I shall trust your plan."
"My deepest gratitude, my lord."
In that moment, the fate of the four-century Han dynasty and the grand curtain of the Three Kingdoms were rewritten anew from the tip of Zhang Fei's three-inch tongue.