Cunning as a fox, greedy as a jackal—this was Pang Tong's assessment of Han Sui.
It was not that Pang Tong harbored any personal prejudice against Han Sui; this judgment was drawn from a thorough review of Han Sui's past conduct.
From stirring unrest in Liang Province, to raiding the Sanfu region; from seeking to attach himself to Dong Zhuo, to surrendering and then rebelling again; from killing his own elder brother, to slaughtering his brother's wife and children—every one of these deeds bore Han Sui's name.
It could be said that from the first year of Zhongping, when the Yellow Turban Rebellion erupted, up until now, Han Sui's consistent policy in Liang Province could be summed up in just two words:
making trouble.
Whenever he felt strong enough, he rebelled. Whenever he was beaten senseless, he surrendered and sued for peace.
For a moment, Pang Tong even began to doubt—was Han Sui truly Han Chinese?
How was it that he acted more like a barbarian than the barbarians themselves?
As for his current retreat from Yong Province back to Liang Province, the reasoning was simple enough. If you can't win, you run—there was nothing shameful about that. Han Sui, after all, could be said to be thoroughly practiced at it.
All of this lay well within Pang Tong's expectations, and no matter what Han Sui did next, Pang Tong was not worried.
Liang Province had a smaller population than Yi Province, its trade routes were severed, and it could fairly be described as barren land. Han Sui was known to be ambitious; if he wished to rise again, his choices were limited—either push westward to open the Western Regions, or gamble everything on a desperate thrust toward the headwaters of Tubo.
But according to what Cheng Gongying had said, Han Sui—now reduced to what could only be called a remnant force—was still trying to play a game of balance.
Pang Tong shook his head inwardly.
General Han… this water of political balancing is far too deep for you. You simply can't hold it.
Better that I lend a hand.
"In that case," Pang Tong said aloud, "when General Cheng returns, I will dispatch an envoy to travel with you."
"These fine horses are of exceptional quality. It is only proper that we offer our thanks to the General Who Conquers the West in person."
Cheng Gongying nodded with a troubled expression. Pang Tong's request was reasonable and beyond reproach.
Yet Cheng Gongying was loyal to Han Sui and regarded him as his lord. Watching Han Sui fall from a regional hegemon to a state of widespread betrayal—and now planning to rely on Yan Xing to carve out a retreat under Cao Cao—filled his heart with the same sorrowful sigh.
General Han truly has grown old.
Still, this matter was but an interlude.
As Zhao Yun finished breaking the horse, his personal guards began, one after another, to choose their new mounts.
Zhao Yun stood quietly to the side, watching his men laugh and chat as they appraised the fine steeds.
Bored, Zhang Fei wandered over.
"Zilong, why don't you order them all to pick horses of the same color?"
Zhao Yun could not help but laugh. "There's no need."
"General Gongsun did that to intimidate the Hu tribes, and Liaodong had no shortage of horses—only then could such a cavalry be formed."
"Our cavalry is only just taking shape. How could we imitate that?"
The reasoning was sound, though Zhang Fei still sighed regretfully, clearly wishing he could see it.
It was during this exchange that dust suddenly rose on the flat land in the distance.
There were only a few riders, so Zhao Yun's guards merely heightened their vigilance.
That vigilance was quickly dispelled by Zhang Fei.
"It's Ma Mengqi."
All the riders were mounted on Liang Province warhorses, swift as shooting stars. In moments, they flashed before the group.
Before the man even dismounted, his voice arrived first:
"Zhang Yide! I heard that Zhao Zilong of Shijiazhuang has arrived."
"Where is he?"
Zhang Fei chuckled awkwardly and looked up at the sky.
The magnificent Western Liang horses were reined in sharply, and several men leapt down.
Zhao Yun looked over—and his eyes were immediately drawn to the leader.
To be honest, Zhao Yun had seen many handsome men.
Zhou Yu. The Strategist. Jiang Gongyan.
But someone so handsome—and so ostentatious—was truly a first.
His armor was edged with outward-turned fur, studded with gleaming iron plates. Though armored, a jade belt circled his waist, and a fur-lined cloak draped across his shoulders.
For some reason, Zhao Yun suddenly felt that Ma Chao would get along splendidly with that "Brocade Sail Bandit" of Jiangdong.
There was no need to ask Zhang Fei. After Ma Chao's shout, all of Zhao Yun's guards turned their heads to look at their general.
Ma Chao studied Zhao Yun with an appraising gaze.
"Did you truly charge seven times in and out of Cao's army formation?"
"When taken by surprise, could you hold off a thousand with a single rider?"
"When Yi Province was seized, did you break twenty thousand with three hundred?"
"Did you alone suppress the great clans of Yi Province into silence?"
"And also…"
Ma Chao looked Zhao Yun up and down carefully.
"Zhang Yide once told me: First Lü, second Zhao, third Dian Wei, fourth Guan, fifth Ma, sixth Zhang Fei. Now that Lü Bu is dead—does that make you number one under heaven?"
Good heavens.
Zhao Yun stared wide-eyed at his third brother.
Zhang Fei, with nowhere left to hide, chose to surrender outright.
He clapped Zhao Yun on the shoulder, his grin growing ever more unrestrained, and bellowed at Ma Chao:
"My fourth brother—unmatched under heaven!"
Ma Chao's enthusiasm was instantly ignited. He licked his lips and shrugged off his cloak on the spot.
"Then let me, Ma Chao of Western Liang, see this so-called number one!"
Without waiting for Zhao Yun's response, Ma Chao vaulted back onto his horse and galloped toward an open stretch of ground.
As Ma Chao rode off, Zhang Fei's face filled with embarrassment. He opened his mouth to explain, but Zhao Yun raised a hand to stop him.
"Saddle up!"
Zhao Yun's guards moved swiftly. The Qinghai dappled horse he had broken was soon fitted with saddle and reins.
Zhao Yun mounted in one smooth motion, turned back to Zhang Fei, and said solemnly:
"Third Brother—if I am to help Eldest Brother achieve his great enterprise, then I too must be unmatched!"
With that, he snapped the reins. The Qinghai dappled surged forward like an arrow loosed from the bow, chasing after Ma Chao.
What followed needed no further telling. Zhao Yun's guards let out a sharp whistle and mounted in succession, racing after their general.
The cold wind lashed his face, yet Zhao Yun's heart had never burned so fiercely.
The Strategist had been right. Zhao Yun had always been uncontentious by nature—but Ma Chao's words reminded him of his lord's earnest expectations when he left Shu.
To pacify the realm, one needed an elite cavalry force.
He was, by origin, a cavalry general—and later generations would place no small hopes upon him.
Other matters might be yieldable, but when it came to cavalry—
I must stand first.
Ma Chao had already halted ahead. Seeing Zhao Yun catch up, he burst into laughter.
"Old general, how shall we compete? With headless spears? Or—"
Zhao Yun shook his head inwardly. A provocation tactic. It would not work on him.
"Choose what you are best at," Zhao Yun said calmly. "So you won't need excuses when you lose."
The taunt backfired. Ma Chao's anger flared.
"Then armor on, blades drawn! If you die by ill fate, I'll go and throw in my lot with Imperial Uncle Liu and help him pacify the realm!"
Zhao Yun leaned forward slightly, drew the silver spear from its saddle sheath, spun it once in his hand to settle the grip, then pointed it at Ma Chao with grave seriousness.
"I will show mercy. I will not take your life."
Ma Chao wisely shut his mouth. Dark-faced, he rode off with his weapon ready, signaling that he was prepared.
The sudden turn of events left onlookers reeling. By the time Pang Tong and Cheng Gongying arrived, they saw Ma Chao and Zhao Yun locked in tense opposition—one bristling with aggression, the other at ease.
Cheng Gongying panicked.
"If lives are lost here, won't Yong and Liang plunge into chaos again?"
"General Pang, please stop this—do not let things come to a point that cannot be spoken of!"
Cheng Gongying was frantic, but Pang Tong remained unhurried.
"If that truly happens, the General Who Conquers the West will naturally stabilize Yong and Liang. Why worry?"
"How could it be the same?" Cheng Gongying blurted, baffled. "The General Who Conquers the West—" He could not continue.
Pang Tong chuckled softly, sparing him the difficulty.
"Since General Zhao has said he will not harm Ma Chao's life, he will keep his word. Just watch."
In the lands of Yong and Liang, such contests were not unfamiliar—but fighting with live blades was something no one had seen before.
As Pang De's signal arrow shot into the sky, tearing the air with a piercing shriek, the sound echoed across the field.
Then, under the gaze of all, the two riders moved at once.
Both mounts were superb. In an instant they met—and in an instant they separated.
Reining in and wheeling around, Ma Chao's face shone with wild delight. Just now, in the blink of an eye, he had swung his halberd—only for Zhao Yun, striking later yet arriving first, to counter with a thrust that knocked it aside.
What reflexes!
Zhao Yun's expression remained calm, though inwardly he felt a trace of regret.
If I had stirrups just now, I could have sent him straight off the horse.
Even so, the outcome would be no different.
The silver spear leveled forward.
"Within two exchanges," Zhao Yun declared coolly, "you will be defeated."