Her Defeat
Her Defeat
"Hiiing... I've lost... My lord, I'm truly sorry..."
"It's all right. It was nothing more than a bit of entertainment."
Dong Zhuo comforted Hua Xiong, who was even shedding tears.
It was an affectionate touch, as always... but Hua Xiong, watching this side of Dong Zhuo, felt a deep, bitter taste spreading through her heart.
'Sniffle... She says that, but I can see it... That face is full of regret... It's all because Hua Xiong lost...'
Dong Zhuo was trying hard to hide it, yet a faint lingering trace of disappointment seemed to show on her face.
Seeing her lord like that filled Hua Xiong with genuine remorse...
But at this very moment, inside the head of the person wearing that shock-and-regret-filled face, the outcome of Hua Xiong's match had already ceased to matter.
Losing a spar against an ally was never particularly important to begin with.
What Dong Zhuo was actually concerned about was the person standing right beside her, watching the sparring together.
It was her "defeat" at Yuan Shu's hands.
'Why...? How... how could this be...?'
*
Dong Zhuo had deliberately used the sparring as cover to shift next to him.
Immediately afterward, she began to edge closer into an "attack," deploying one of the most powerful weapons in her arsenal.
No man can resist a woman's chest.
She had hundreds of subordinates who had succeeded in seducing men and getting married using exactly this approach.
And those women's assets were even smaller than hers.
She had always been confident that with assets superior to every girl she had ever met, she could easily make any man hers.
Even now, when she walked around, was it not easy to spot men who couldn't tear their eyes away from her body?
Though she herself had reached the age of thirty without ever actually having been with a man,
the knowledge she had seen and heard was more than sufficient—overflowing, even—so Dong Zhuo was sure that this would slowly melt a man's heart.
And so she slowly pressed her body toward that man... toward the youth called Yuan Shu.
She would be lying if she said she didn't wonder whether she really had to go this far.
However much it was to win over a talent, she had never imagined that she, of all people, would be directly tempting a man like this, as a woman.
But the other party was not only capable—he was, above all, regarded as the next successor of the Yuan Clan.
A presence so grand that he could never be acquired by simply extending a hand the way she had with Hua Xiong or Li Ru.
Showing ordinary goodwill was out of the question, and even bribery had its limits.
Dong Zhuo knew well that to get him, she would have to deploy every means and method at her disposal.
And one more thing...
She, who normally disliked this sort of behavior, felt almost no reluctance about this particular situation.
She had always believed that force and authority were enough to handle men...
But when it came to this man, she thought that using a little of her feminine charm might not be so bad.
Was it because his strength exceeded hers?
Or was it simply because of his handsome face?
Or else... was it the sense of closeness she felt as someone who owed him a debt?
Whichever it was, along with the thought that the fact remained unchanged—she had to bring this man into her grasp to fulfill her ambition—
she acted, drawing on the feeling of how her subordinates had chatted about it among themselves.
Naturally, so it wouldn't feel awkward,
she deliberately leaned close beside him and subtly pressed her chest against his shoulder.
'Ah...'
In that moment, through her chest, she felt the texture of that man.
The sensation it gave her was not unpleasant at all.
Contrary to his lean-looking build, his body was surprisingly well-muscled.
Firm and hot—it felt like touching a finely crafted work of art.
At the same time, the scent of the man carried a pleasant sweetness...
a sweetness like honey.
'Hmm... This is... a little more embarrassing than I thought...'
Unlike when she had started out full of confidence, now that it was happening, a vague, sheepish feeling began to creep in.
Her heart pounded.
Her face grew slightly warm,
and her body trembled a little for no reason.
The goal here was purely to please this man and win his favor, yet somehow she felt as though she were the one growing excited first.
'Well... it's... fine. Since I'm feeling like this, that side must be even more...'
Don't they say that a man turns into a beast the moment a woman shows the slightest temptation?
If she was already feeling this elated, she thought that he must surely have been deeply shaken.
But...
'... What is this? Somehow, his reaction...'
Despite her actions,
the man didn't even glance her way and simply kept looking straight ahead.
She tried pressing closer just in case, but as she watched Yuan Shu, who seemed focused solely on the sparring, Dong Zhuo was seized by deep bewilderment.
'... Th-this can't be... Why? Did I... make some kind of mistake...?'
If he had shown embarrassment or outright refusal, she could have judged that the man was simply shy or still wary of her.
But his complete lack of expression—that attitude, literally like a block of wood—left her feeling far more bewildered.
She had theoretical conviction.
She even had visual conviction as an observer.
But no matter how well you understood the art of war or how many battles you had witnessed, there was a gap between that and personally leading troops for the first time.
A faint unease about that fact was inevitable.
By Dong Zhuo's inherently confident nature, it was a mere speck, but now, with things not going according to plan from the very start, that unease suddenly began swelling like a snowball.
'Or else... Was I wrong from the beginning...?'
Perhaps she had thought about it far too simply from the start.
Some other man, maybe, but her target was the one called the Young Dragon of the Yuan Clan.
It would hardly be strange for him to possess a mental fortitude utterly unmoved by a woman's breasts.
Or else, unlike her, he might already be thoroughly accustomed to such things...
'... Tch.'
The moment that thought struck her, an unpleasant feeling abruptly surged up.
With something already blocked from her very first attempt,
Dong Zhuo had no choice, once the sparring was over, but to move her feet and follow Yuan Shu, who had risen abruptly and left the place without so much as a backward glance.
Led by unresolved questions and discomfort, carrying a genuine sense of frustration, confusion...
and a faint feeling of defeat...
*
Henei Commandery, Wen County.
Once we arrived, we set up camp, let the troops rest for a while, and began surveying the surroundings.
Wen County, one of the larger towns in Henei, had obvious advantages in sheer size,
but its greatest advantage was being a place entirely untouched by the Yellow Turbans, unlike other regions, which let us establish our main camp with peace of mind.
Moreover, being right alongside a river made it easy to procure water.
And so, while Cheng Pu gathered information on the overall situation and the enemy's movements, we took a rest period to shake off the fatigue of the march.
"Where are you off to, my lord?"
"Just into town for a bit. It gets stuffy staying inside the camp."
"Good timing. I was getting a craving for a snack. Might as well grab a bite while we're at it."
With Ji Ling naturally falling in as my guard, I headed straight into town.
Though war was right before them, the town still showed a normal face.
Unconcealed anxiety hung on their faces,
but for now, most of them were going about their livelihoods, watching how matters developed.
"The soldiers haven't been causing any trouble, have they?"
"Don't worry. I laid it out as firmly as always. I warned them that if anyone stirs up a fuss, I'll take his head off faster than any Yellow Turban could."
"Good. Remember what I always say: in some ways, that matters more than winning the battle."
"Yes, understood, my lord... Huh?"
In that instant, Ji Ling's expression abruptly shifted.
A question had just flickered across my face when—
-Smack!
"?!"
"Tch... That was close..."
Ji Ling's hand had shot forward in an instant.
Inside her grasp, I could see a leather ball that had been flying toward my face, now halted.
A common soccer—no, a cuju ball, the kind used in a ball game.
Seeing it, I suddenly felt a childhood déjà vu.
The thing that had often happened when you walked past the school yard.
The phenomenon where a soccer ball inevitably flies toward a person seemed to be an unwritten rule in this era as much as in the modern day.
"Ah... I'm... I'm sorry."
"We're truly sorry, sir."
A moment later, a gaggle of kids came swarming toward us like high tide to apologize.
I watched four kids, maybe under ten—lower elementary schoolers in modern terms—shuffle about, eyeing us warily, and I let a faint smile touch my lips.
"It's fine. Nothing wrong with playing, but try to pay a little attention to your surroundings."
At those words, I glanced sideways, and Ji Ling immediately tossed the ball back to the kids.
Right afterward, like an ebbing tide, they rushed back toward the open space and resumed the game.
On the surface, it was just a scene of children playing peacefully,
but watching them stirred a growing sense of responsibility in me.
"If we lose... peace like that ends too, doesn't it?"
"Yeah... I suppose it does."
"Let's give it our all. Let's win... so those kids can keep on enjoying themselves."
"I'll keep that in mind, my lord."
Recalling a duty I had briefly forgotten, Ji Ling and I renewed our resolve.
The obligation we bore as generals and as officials.
We set our hearts on protecting the smiles on those little ones' lips.
And then.
"You guys are fucking awful! How do you not block that?"
"..."
Our resolve was shattered into splinters within five minutes of watching the kids.
"What's the point of me doing well if every single shot just goes right through you?"
One young girl shouted in a voice thick with rage.
She had short-cropped brown hair and green eyes,
and a frame noticeably smaller than the rest. The child was fiercely shouting at the others, who looked utterly cowed despite being a head or two taller than her.
"I... I'm sorry... seriously..."
"Those guys are just way too good..."
"Forget it! I'm not playing with you anymore! Playing with you was miserable, and I hope I never see you again!"
With that, the girl stormed off from the open space, yelling at the top of her lungs.
Ji Ling and I, who had been watching, let out a small sigh and began walking again.
It hadn't been the kind of vow we'd intended, but anyway, we felt a vague sense of duty, as though we might need to offer a little help.