Indeed, even if Fan Zeng had a bad temper, he was still capable.
How could one be a ruler without the capacity for tolerance?
Moreover, his foundation was unstable, that was also a fact.
The internal situation of Chu was unstable. Xiang Yu was only of military birth, not royalty, and therefore lacked the authority to intimidate commoners and nobles. He only had the support of Jiangdong.
Finally, the Battle of Chenxia completely destroyed his base, leaving him without strategic depth. He was powerless to continue his campaigns.
"I will not become the Hegemon-King of Western Chu." A glint of brilliance flashed in Lu Ming's eyes. At this moment, he would fight hard to seize power and official position!
"My lord will surely achieve great things." Jia Xu nodded slightly. Currently, the monarch's condition seems good.
The merit of following the emperor was greater than anything else; others might not see it, but he saw it very clearly.
The Yellow Turban Rebellion had hollowed out the Han Dynasty's foundation. The rise of numerous warlords was no joke. Once a powerful force held sway for too long, the Han Dynasty would lose popular support, and the fate of the dynasty would inevitably change, with the imperial power changing hands.
As a cavalryman returned, Jia Xu's heart stirred. "General, now is the time to launch a rescue."
"Wenruo can rest again. I'll be right back. These are just chickens and dogs, nothing to fear." Lu Ming mounted his horse and roared, "All troops, attack!"
Three thousand men against nearly eighty thousand rebels? This wasn't just madness, it was utter insanity!
This wasn't the way to gamble with a small force against a large one. Even if eighty thousand pigs lined up to be slaughtered, it would take days and nights!
Galloping forward, Lu Ming led his trusted men in the charge.
Opening the battlefield map, the troop deployments of both sides instantly appeared in his mind.
Mountains, forests, rivers, plains, and rocks—the terrain all appeared, allowing him to clearly see the location of the rebel leader.
"Xu Rong, you lead troops to reinforce Zhang Sikong. I will capture the rebel leader."
"Yes, my lord." Xu Rong moved his lips, knowing that persuasion was pointless; the most important thing now was to rescue Zhang Wen. As for an attack, three thousand defeating eighty thousand—it sounded like a joke.
A joke? Three thousand against eighty thousand was absurd, but if it was impossible, then Sun Shiwan would have something to say.
Winning with fewer troops simply meant using strategy to defeat them one by one, capturing the leader first.
Only by eliminating the leader could the rebel army fall into chaos.
The rebel army was organized into units of private troops; each general led his own retinue, a force built around private soldiers and ordinary troops.
Eighty thousand men were divided into eight groups, and these eight groups were further subdivided into five or six smaller groups. Unable to concentrate their full strength, a single well-placed attack on the leader's position was possible.
Without a battlefield map, Lu Ming would never have done this. A blind charge wasn't courage, it was suicide!
Now, seeing the leader only ten thousand men away, with a gap he could exploit, how could he miss this opportunity?
One general's success is built on the bones of ten thousand. If he could capture the leader, Bian Zhang, combined with his merit in rescuing Zhang Wen, it would be enough to elevate him to another level!
Oh, he'd need to prepare some money for bribes to secure that position!
This achievement would be invaluable in recruiting generals and strategists later.
Zhang Wen was now utterly despondent. Although he had bribed the Ten Attendants, he was essentially a scholar who wanted to achieve something. Without real ability, he couldn't have reached this position.
He was filled with regret. Why had he come? Was it merely an opportunity for promotion?
If he hadn't insisted on leaving the city, would things have been much better?
Watching the soldiers being slaughtered one by one, even the fiercest Jiangdong Tiger was riddled with wounds.
Now surrounded layer upon layer, how difficult would it be to break through?
Bian Zhang was also laughing maniacally. He had finally seized his opportunity.
It was said that this was the commander sent by the court to quell the rebellion, named Zhang Wen. Now he could kill this so-called commander.
With his head, he could negotiate with the Han Dynasty, suppress Beigong Boyu's group, and perhaps even establish himself as emperor here.
While indulging in these daydreams, with soldiers fighting fiercely ahead, he felt a maddening sense of power, as if the world were his.
"Haha, once we take Luoyang, I'll let you plunder to your heart's content! Everyone will be promoted and rewarded!"
They haven't even dealt with Xiliang yet, and they're already thinking about attacking Luoyang.
They can't even clear the obstacles right in front of them, let alone the western capital, Chang'an, blocking their way. Attacking Luoyang is simply a pipe dream!
Ahead, a commotion arose. A young general, wielding a long spear and riding a fine horse, was charging forward. Wherever he went, men and horses fell, none able to withstand a single blow.
Bian Zhang, still laughing wildly, hadn't realized the gravity of the situation until the young general suddenly appeared before him.
His expression remained contemptuous, even mocking, "Oh? It seems the Han army isn't all useless good-for-nothings. Whose general are you?"
"I am your grandfather! I am Lu Ming, the War God of Xiliang!" With Lu Ming's roar, he spurred his horse, and it charged forward.
His spear began to swing rapidly, his hands twirling it, an invisible force deflecting the incoming spear and piercing the nearby general at an unbelievable angle—a sudden, dramatic shift!
*Thud!* Lu Ming's attack was swift, precise, and ruthless. With a flick, a thrust, and a horizontal movement, the spearhead struck the unarmored throat, shattering the Adam's apple and severing the carotid artery, spraying blood everywhere.
"Kill! Charge! Kill him quickly!" Bian Zhang finally reacted. He had no idea how this killing machine had broken through his encirclement and protection to reach him. His expression was as astonished as Sun Quan's at Hefei!
When the troops pressed forward, their formation loosened, revealing a gap, which was decisively seized and broken in two, leaving them unable to defend themselves.
"Die!" Lu Ming didn't waste words, directly and simply cutting through his opponent, then lifting Bian Zhang into the air with a single spear thrust—a terrifying display of power. "Bian Zhang is dead! Surrender and you will not be killed!"
"Bian Zhang is dead! Surrender and you will not be killed!"
"Bian Zhang is dead! Surrender and you will not be killed!"
The personal guards around him also shouted at the top of their lungs. The unsuspecting rebels turned to look and saw Bian Zhang's corpse hanging there.
Those who were still confused looked at their commander and saw the horrified expression on his face. They immediately understood: their leader had been beheaded, and their base had been raided!