Giving Wings to a Starving Tiger
The massive supply convoy that had departed from Namyang Wanhyeon raced day and night for three full days before finally reaching the Yangdong Plain near Sagu Guan. I narrowed my eyes against the jolting motion from atop my horse. The sky was dyed a dark crimson like rotten blood, and a chill wind swept across the earth. But it wasn't just the scenery stimulating my senses. The stench of blood. And the smell of despair. Alarms blared relentlessly in my mind.
This place was so pathetic it barely qualified as a battlefield. Reeking of decayed blood and despair, it was little more than a massive grave. Crows pecked at corpses, and wild dogs tore at flesh. As we drew nearer to the camp, I raised my hand and signaled the convoy.
"Halt."
My quiet command echoed like thunder across the air. The thousands of supply troops and escorts behind me stopped in perfect unison. Far off, atop the barren plain, stood a rickety wooden palisade—Sun Jian's camp. A tattered banner fluttered limply, and a soldier atop the watchtower leaned on his spear like a crutch just to stay upright.
Sensing our presence, a few soldiers staggered out from within. Their eyes were hollow, cheeks sunken. Starvation. That horrific agony that gnawed away at human dignity from the very bottom was turning Jiangdong's elite into ghosts.
In the game screen, supplies hitting zero was just a number. In reality, it was this hell. I smacked my lips bitterly. Reality was far more brutal than anything beyond a monitor.
I tugged the reins and slowly guided my horse toward the camp entrance.
"Halt! Who goes there?!"
A sentry croaked out the challenge in a raspy voice. His spear tip trembled faintly, but his eyes burned undimmed. The eyes of a beast baring its teeth at enemies even on the brink of starvation. True Jiangdong soldiers.
Looking down from my horse, I spoke. "I come bearing supplies and provisions by order of Rear General Yuan Shu. Where is General Sun Jian?"
Though I didn't raise my voice, it pierced deep into the camp. The words had barely left my mouth when the camp stirred.
"Sup... supplies?"
"Yuan Shu's forces are here?"
Moments later, the camp's straw gate flew open with a rough shove, and a group of generals poured out. Leading them was a man with a red turban tied around his head and worn but well-maintained breastplate. Sun Jian, the vanguard of the anti-Dong Zhuo coalition, the fierce tiger of Jiangdong. Even after days without food or proper sleep, his aura was savagely intense. As the saying went, a starving tiger was the fiercest—and he fit it perfectly.
Behind him trailed Cheng Pu, Huang Gai, Han Dang, and Zhu Mu—the founding pillars of Wu—eyes gleaming with killing intent. The moment they spotted me and the Yuan banner behind, they ground their teeth openly.
"Yuan Shu's dogs... you finally show your faces?!"
Sun Jian's roar exploded. No words of welcome. Just raw betrayal and fury tearing at my eardrums.
"When my men were digging dirt and chewing saddle leather, where were you?! Come to cart off the corpses now, you filthy bastards?!"
Sun Jian's hand gripped the hilt of his Fixed Sword. Veins bulged white on his knuckles. He looked ready to draw and sever my head in an instant.
Zing. Instinct screamed a warning in my head. Killing intent. The real deal, forged from countless brushes with death. A lesser civil official or weak-willed general would've been crushed, tumbling from their horse or pissing themselves.
But I saw differently. Beneath Sun Jian's rage lurked desperate anxiety. His arm trembled ever so slightly. Everything was within my calculations. Fear? None. My blood surged hot, mind sharpening crystal clear.
I dismounted with a leisurely smile, planting my feet firmly amid the rising dust and offering a flawless salute.
"General. Swords are for enemies, not allies bringing food."
Sun Jian faltered at my demeanor. Yuan Shu's men were all arrogant or sleazy, yet this young officer seemed well-versed in propriety. Still, how many hard-fought battles had he lost waiting for supplies? Battles he could've won easily with rations. The thought furrowed his brow.
He strode right up to me. "Thought you were just a silver-tongued clerk... but those eyes are sharp."
Sun Jian clamped a hand on my shoulder—a test disguised as greeting. Brutish force bored into me. Enough to make an ordinary man scream and kneel. But I didn't budge. Legs rooted, I channeled energy from my dantian, standing firm as rock.
......!
Sun Jian's eyes widened. He sensed the steel-like density of muscle beneath my robes. And that I took his full strength without a twitch of expression. Curiosity sparked. This youth wasn't just a scholar-official. Had Yuan Shu dressed a warrior in civilian garb? He knew all his generals, yet this face was new. Young, too. Sun Jian's expression shifted to intrigue. He'd clocked a master hiding power equal to—or beyond—his own.
"Hah..."
Sun Jian eased his grip and stepped back. "What's your name?"
"Seowon. Military Strategist dispatched by the Rear General."
"Seowon... I'll remember that. Too good for Yuan Shu's service."
Sun Jian released the sword hilt and jerked his chin backward. "So, what'd you bring? Enough to save my boys?"
I signaled the convoy. At my cue, soldiers yanked the straw covers off the wagons in unison.
Whoosh!
Under the afternoon sun, dazzling gold gleamed. Heaping sacks of rice, cured meats, clear jars of liquor, white flour bags—piled like mountains.
"Ah..."
Gasps erupted across the camp. Soldiers' eyes rolled back. Losing all reason, they surged forward.
"Rice! Food!"
"Meat! That's meat, right?!"
Ready to swarm the carts. Even Sun Jian gulped, staring blankly.
"Distribute it now! My men are dying!"
Sun Jian barked urgently. But I raised a hand to stop him.
"No. Give them meat and liquor now, and they'll all die."
"What?!"
Sun Jian bellowed. "You mocking me? Bring food and then hold it back?!"
I replied coolly, firmly. "General. Your men have starved for days. Their stomachs have shrunk to nothing. Force-feed them fatty meat and strong drink in this state, and their guts will rupture. You want to kill them?"
Sun Jian paused. His battlefield experience told him I was right.
"Th-then what?!"
"Set up pots. Boil rice into thin porridge. Today, only porridge and warm water. That's how they recover strength."
The generals sighed in regret but nodded. But I pressed on. My mind was already plotting the next phase.
"However, General. Porridge alone won't do."
"Now what? You said meat kills!"
I curled my lip in a cold smile. "We eat porridge. But to the enemy, make it look like a meat feast."
"......?"
"Hua Xiong is suspicious but greedy. He knows we're starving and has dropped his guard. Word of resupply will make him wary."
I pointed west to the woods. "Hang pots everywhere, boil meat. Let soldiers smell the broth—but no eating. Feed them porridge till full, then have them sing and dance like they're drunk on liquor and gorged on meat."
Sun Jian's eyes lit up. He grasped it instantly.
"Lure them with the scent...?"
"Yes. The enemy starves too. Meat aroma will torture them. And hearing our revelry? Hua Xiong will strike tonight for this fat prey."
I drove the point home confidently. "Tell the men: Porridge now to settle stomachs. Crush the enemy tonight, and the meat and liquor are theirs. Their eyes will change."
Sun Jian slapped his knee. "Brilliant! Supplies heal my men and bait the trap! Seowon, you got a fox spirit in that head?"
He laughed heartily and issued orders. "Listen up! Pots for porridge, slaughter pigs for scent! Touch the meat, and it's your head! We feast after beheading Hua Xiong tonight!"
The camp buzzed. White steam rose everywhere, mingling scents of rice porridge and boiling pork. Soldiers gulped porridge like water. Color returned to their faces. The teasing meat smell ignited battle lust for the fight ahead.
I watched, mind on the next move. Then, two sharp gazes pierced my back. I turned slowly. Two youths, barely past boyhood, stood there. One with broad shoulders and tiger eyes. The other refined, with deep, scholarly gaze. Sun Ce and Zhou Yu. The twin geniuses who'd forge Wu's future, sizing me up.
Sun Ce spoke first, eyes tracing my muscles. "You're no ordinary man. Took Father's grip like nothing. Scholar robes, but that hidden power's no joke."
He'd sensed my martial prowess instinctively. Eyes burning with rivalry.
I smiled softly. "Sharp eyes."
Zhou Yu stepped forward, locking eyes to probe my intent. "Lord Seowon. Porridge to fill bellies, meat scent to starve the foe... masterful."
"Thanks."
"But one thing. Your eyes aren't on this feast. Like you're seeing... beyond the woods."
True to Zhou Yu. I met his gaze squarely. "Right. I'm smelling something."
"The meat?"
"No."
I nodded to the darkening western woods. "Beneath the meat scent, blood. What does a starving wolf do smelling meat? Bare fangs and charge."
Zhou Yu's eyes widened. He knew it wasn't mere metaphor.
"Tonight... the clash?"
I smiled faintly, patting their shoulders. "Watch closely. When you vie for the world someday, today's lesson will serve you well."
I left the boys and headed for Sun Jian's tent. Their gazes—wariness, respect, curiosity—burned hot on my back. I liked it.
Sunset brought darkness, turning the camp into a bizarre stage.
"Pour it! Drink up!"
"Long live General Yuan Shu! Meat's delicious!"
Soldiers banged empty bowls, swigged water like booze. Bellies full of warm porridge made the act convincing. Bonfires blazed, pork roasting scents wafting everywhere.
Sun Jian staggered over, feigning drunkenness. "Strategist Seowon, how's my acting? Rivals Luoyang's clowns?"
"Perfect, General. I'd charge in blind."
We chuckled lowly. But our eyes gleamed cold behind the smiles.
Camp outskirts, in thick woods and trenches, Sun Jian's elites lay in ambush, breaths held. In their hands: the strength of one bowl of porridge, and hunger for meat.
I climbed the central watchtower. Cold night wind blew. Time passed. As songs faded...
My senses caught faint vibrations through the earth.
Rumble...
An ordinary man would've mistaken it for wind. But I knew: Thousands of cavalry, hooves wrapped for stealth, approaching. Starving wolves suppressing bloodlust, closing on prey.
Staring into the dark, I murmured. "They're here."
The western woods rippled. Drawn by meat, Hua Xiong's army marched into death's jaws.