Today is our 100th day
Today is our 100th day
"All right, eat and drink your fill!"
"You've all worked hard. Today, enjoy yourselves and rest well!"
Right after we arrived at the encampment, we held a banquet to celebrate.
Everyone was worn out from the long march, and on top of that, we'd just won a battle—more than enough reason to drink today.
People emptied cups and tore into meat, enjoying themselves merrily.
Under normal circumstances, I'd be relaxing and enjoying it right along with them, but...
Regrettably, right now that was absolutely out of the question.
"Here, have another."
"Yes, Benchu."
With a hand delicate as a gem, Yuan Shao poured another drink into the cup I had just emptied.
That was when—
-Clunk.
A hand caught the bottle Yuan Shao was pouring from.
The touch was rough, with a few calluses, and in an instant, a chill entered Yuan Shao's eyes.
"The sibling affection between you two is truly a fine sight... but I, too, would like to pour a drink for my subordinate."
"... Haah..."
Dong Zhuo spoke with a deep smile.
At that, Yuan Shao let out a heavy sigh and released her hold on the wine bottle.
And then—
"Pour it."
"Hm?"
"You said you'd pour a drink for a subordinate. Go ahead. Right here."
"..."
Yuan Shao thrust her cup forward with utter confidence.
Dong Zhuo froze for a moment at the sight...
then smiled again.
"Heh-heh. Very well, so be it. Here, take it."
Dong Zhuo poured the drink into Yuan Shao's cup.
She filled it almost to the point of overflowing, then made a light gesture toward Yuan Shao.
Yuan Shao took the cup and emptied it in a single breath.
And then, just as Dong Zhuo's gaze began to shift my way—
"One more."
"Ho-oh... Are you sure that's wise? This is rather strong liquor."
"It's nothing to me."
Yuan Shao's voice sounded calm on the surface, but it carried a sharp edge, like a blade.
Yet Dong Zhuo simply answered with that same unhurried smile and filled the cup full once more.
The two of them kept at it, a continuous back-and-forth race of pouring and drinking.
Yuan Shao shoving her cup out as though chased by something, and Dong Zhuo pouring again and again as though daring her to see how long she could last.
Watching the pair of them like they were locked in some kind of competition, I honestly couldn't help thinking, What the hell is wrong with those two?
In the original timeline, the two of them had a clear reason to fight.
Strip away all the elaborate rhetoric, and the fundamental cause was, of course, power.
Dong Zhuo, who used the emperor to wield authority and throw state affairs into chaos,
and Yuan Shao, whose professed cause was to expel the traitor Dong Zhuo and set the imperial house aright but whose real aim was to drive Dong Zhuo out and seize power for herself.
In the end, both of them failed to grasp the empire, but it was self-evident that they both desired that power and saw each other as rivals who had to be crushed to obtain it.
But that was a story for the far, far future—if it ever happened at all.
So why was Yuan Shao showing such hostility toward Dong Zhuo now, when she had neither power nor anything else to speak of?
Was it because Dong Zhuo belonged to the Turbid Stream Faction?
Or was it because she was the one who had forced out the widely respected General Lu Zhi and taken his place?
Or was it simply that their personalities were fundamentally incompatible?
As I ran through one hypothesis after another, I watched the scene unfolding before me...
and seeing Yuan Shao, who only seemed to grow colder the more tipsy she became, I started to feel genuinely worried.
-Thunk!
At last the bottle ran dry, and Yuan Shao emptied her final cup.
Even so, her complexion hadn't changed one bit. She fixed Dong Zhuo, who was holding the empty bottle, with an expressionless, icy stare.
I never realized it because she abstained from alcohol throughout the Six-Year Mourning, but is that woman actually a heavy drinker?
That stuff was pretty strong...
"Quite impressive. Truly befitting a sister of 'our' General Yuan. In that case..."
"Wait. I'm not yet..."
"I'm sorry, but I am the General of the Household for the North leading this army, and I am not in a position to look after only you. Surely I ought to fill a cup for the others as well, wouldn't you agree?"
"..."
With those words, Dong Zhuo picked up another bottle and turned to me.
Wearing a deeply satisfied smile, she held the bottle out toward me.
"Here, General Yuan. You have a drink as well."
"Yes, thank you, Lady Zhongying."
"Heh-heh..."
Dong Zhuo smiled as she filled my cup.
Unlike with Yuan Shao earlier, she poured just the right amount,
and with a gaze that felt stickier than usual, she spoke.
"Now that I think of it, today marks exactly one hundred days since we first met."
"Time has flown, hasn't it."
"Indeed. That day when I was surrounded by Yellow Turbans and in danger, you saved me. Even now, when I recall how you looked then, my heart still flutters."
As she spoke, Dong Zhuo placed a hand over her ample chest.
Her face, faintly flushed, looked nothing like fear no matter how I tried to see it.
Meanwhile, Yuan Shao watched the scene in silence, radiating a chill of her own as a bonus.
"Uhm..."
I had drunk about three-quarters of the cup, which today felt unusually hard to swallow, when—
"Here, Lord Gonglu. Have a drink from my cup as well."
"Huh? Ah... Th-thank you, Aman."
"...?"
"..."
Cao Cao abruptly pushed her way in and filled the cup that still had some drink left in it.
She'd cut in with pinpoint timing, as if she'd been lying in wait. Right after, she raised her own cup, which was likewise filled to the brim, and spoke.
"Everyone's been so absorbed in drinking that not a single proper toast has been offered. With that in mind, let's all raise our cups together to celebrate today's victory."
"Ah..."
"Erm..."
Cao Cao had reminded everyone of a fact they'd all forgotten.
I immediately lifted my cup,
and the others, swept along by the mood, filled their cups and raised them too.
"For the great Han Dynasty and for all of us gathered here!"
"For all of us!"
With that, Cao Cao smoothly and swiftly seized control of the atmosphere, leaving Dong Zhuo behind.
As I once again felt the truth that Cao Cao was still Cao Cao, even as a woman,
I looked at her face for a moment, watching her smile at me.
'She feels a bit different from a year ago, too... The mood is really...'
*
"What? Defeat?"
"We... have no excuse, Lord Zhang Bao."
"Are you even making sense right now?!"
His subordinates were in a wretched state.
Looking at them, the Yellow Turban Army's second-in-command and Zhang Jiao's younger brother—the General of Earth Zhang Bao—let out a furious roar.
"How in the world did you command the army to suffer a defeat like this?! Those bastards just marched hundreds of li! They're exhausted to the point of collapse! Did I not tell you that you could defeat them by launching a surprise attack while they're drained and staggering?!"
"We... we thought the same and were preparing the assault. But reinforcements arrived without warning, and simply..."
"Reinforcements... you say?"
Zhang Bao's face began to fill with consternation.
At that, his subordinates launched into flimsy excuses with desperate voices.
"That's... that's correct. Judging by their banners, they seemed to have come from Luoyang... Their surprise attack cut our army in two, and before we could even form up, we were routed."
"What in the... No, if it's Luoyang, doesn't that mean the court has mobilized an army?!"
"It would seem... the rumors are true. It's said that not long ago in Xu Province and Yang Province, our comrades were also defeated by government troops whose numbers had suddenly swelled."
"Tch..."
Those were reports he'd dismissed at the time as mere excuses to deflect blame for their defeats.
But now that government troops from Luoyang had pushed all the way here into Ji Province, he could no longer deny it—that the court, which he'd assumed was merely warming seats without purpose, had begun to draw their swords in earnest.
'We believed the Han Dynasty was rotted to the core and would soon collapse... Does it still possess this much strength?'
The death of his younger brother Zhang Liang, who had led two hundred thousand troops, and the string of defeats that followed had already shaken him. The Han Dynasty was supposed to be a sinking ship with no strength left, yet its unforeseen resilience caused a thick unease to blossom in Zhang Bao's heart.
Had they perhaps chosen the wrong moment?
Would it not have been better to carry out their coup after spending more time in preparation?
From the start, there had been a sense that they'd rushed the operation too much because of Zhang Jiao's illness. As the situation worsened by the day, the anxiety gnawing at Zhang Bao's mind grew thicker and thicker.
That was when—
"Cough... There's no need to be shaken."
"B-Brother!"
"Great... Great and Worthy Teacher!"
Zhang Jiao walked forward, coughing lightly.
He was trying his best not to show it, but his complexion was poor, obvious to anyone. He lowered himself heavily into the chair before Zhang Bao and the other commanders.
"General of Earth, how great were our losses this time?"
"Yes, elder brother, of the eighty thousand troops, only around twenty thousand have returned. The rest are all dead or captured."
"Eighty thousand... It's no small loss, but there's no need to take too grim a view. If we gather all the allies scattered throughout Ji Province and the surrounding regions, their number alone amounts to a full four hundred thousand. Depending on the coming battles, one defeat can easily be rendered meaningless, can it not?"
"That... that is true."
No, it isn't.
He spoke as though it were a trifling matter, but this was a fact Zhang Bao and Zhang Jiao himself both well understood.
The Yellow Turban Army's morale had already plummeted after Zhang Liang's defeat.
In this situation, to reliably rally the troops, they needed to ignite a spark with a victory, no matter how large or small.
That was the reason they'd rushed a surprise attack the moment word arrived that the enemy had appeared.
Now that it had failed, the situation ahead could only grow more difficult.
In the worst case, they might even fail to muster their forces and see their main camp here swept away in a one-sided slaughter.
It was when Zhang Bao, with his room to maneuver shrinking by the moment, was at a complete loss about what to do—
"Since it's come to this, I will personally take the field in the next battle."
"Y-You intend to, Brother?"
"The Great... the Great and Worthy Teacher in person?"
Since the early days, Zhang Jiao had remained mostly in the background because of his illness.
True, if he took the field, he could boost the soldiers' morale to some extent.
But there was another reason beyond that for the alarm Zhang Bao was showing.
"Are... are you certain you'll be all right? Even now your health is poor. If you were to use that power, even a slight misstep could..."
"If we fail to crush those bastards here, all our lives are forfeit anyway. Our sole path to survival is to commit everything with our full strength."
"Brother..."
"Stand back."
"... Tch..."
At Zhang Jiao's words, Zhang Bao finally stepped back.
Then, leaving his worried brother behind,
Zhang Jiao produced something from inside his robes.
And then—
"Th... this is... No, could it be?"
The eyes of the commanders began to fill with astonishment.
Characters were inscribed upon it.
It was...
"Th-the Essential Arts of Great Peace?"
The artifact that had founded the Yellow Turban Army, said to allow a person to draw upon the power of heaven.
The instant they saw it, the faces of the commanders, who had been utterly dejected by defeat just moments before, suddenly brightened.
"I will show you. That blue sky turning yellow. What the path promised by heaven truly is!"
"Ooh..."
The commanders wore expressions of anticipation.
Zhang Jiao spoke to them with a confident voice, brimming with strength and authority.
"Now, go and issue the muster order and prepare the soldiers. The Azure Heaven Is Dead; the Yellow Heaven Shall Rise. In the Jiazi Year, Great Fortune Will Come to All Under Heaven. (蒼天已死 黃天當立 歲在甲子 天下大吉)."
"The Azure Heaven Is Dead; the Yellow Heaven Shall Rise. In the Jiazi Year, Great Fortune Will Come to All Under Heaven."
The Yellow Turban commanders chanted the mantra once more, then dispersed.
Watching them, Zhang Jiao painfully gathered his ailing body and steeled his resolve.
'I absolutely... cannot let it end like this. Even if this body of mine shatters and turns to dust... I must at least lay the foundation for the great undertaking...'