I fell in love with this pairing nearly ten years ago when I lacked the historical context to develop it beyond one-shots and modern alternate universe fluff. After learning much more of said context, I had been itching to give it a more comprehensive go. Huge thanks to ChibiGingi for inspiring this work with a sketch of the final scene and her own detailed take on the life story of Lü Meng.
Originally posted on AO3, January 2016 to July 2017.
Fan Castle, 219
Cao Ren paced along the ragged outer wall of the rampart. The archer towers were deserted, their torn and faded banners rustling in the chill wind of impending autumn. The land stretched before him, grimly silent in the absence of battle.
Sima Yi appeared beside him, fan of black feathers in hand. "You must be proud."
Cao Ren continued to ponder the bleak and ravaged plain. The fields of mud, stripped of their crops and strewn with debris. The broken blades, the spent arrows, the corpses awaiting the dignity of their funeral pyre.
"For three months you held this place. Three long and arduous months at every possible disadvantage. Your support armies vanquished, your food stores dwindling, your walls crumbling before the flood waters. Your advisers hatching plans to flee if the situation continued to deteriorate. Yet you kept your resolve and inspired that of your men, and so you have earned your deserved triumph."
Cao Ren supposed he should take pride in the stoicism of his military leadership, pleasure in praise from a man so rare to give it without his usual tinge of condescension. He could only muster a sigh. "Our roads are impassable. Our farms will lie barren for seasons to come. I struggle to find triumph in the suffering of our people."
"Suffering is a necessary part of warfare. You of all men should be well aware of that by now."
"I am." Cao Ren bowed his head. "I still have my limits in hardening myself to its toll."
Banners were retreating over the distant southern hills, blood red against the leaden sky. Lü Meng and his army had come in pursuit of Guan Yu - perpetrator of this invasion, this water attack, this ensuing carnage. Guan Yu had long since fled the front lines of Fan. Lü Meng was now on the hunt for his head.
"Off they go, scampering after their prize." Sima Yi chuckled. "Southern rubes and their easily harnessed avarice."
Cao Ren's stomach twisted. "That's a harsh assessment."
"Is it, now? Guan Yu was a powerful ally to Wu. If they had supported his attack, we may have been on the run ourselves. Yet Sun Quan was so quickly convinced to backstab him. And for what? Envy of his strength? Or perhaps some petty grudge about territory?"
"That may be so." Lacking a rebuttal on long-term political strategy, Cao Ren refrained from further comment. "Still, you speak of appreciation for allies. Lü Meng has proved himself such. I ask that you grant him due courtesy."
"I suppose." Sima Yi flapped his fan. "He did act in our favor, after all."
Cao Ren kept his eye on those red banners, wondering what awaited them. Perhaps Guan Yu was near defeat. Or perhaps he would exhaust Lü Meng in pursuit, then regroup for a counterattack. If he joined up with reinforcements, or his sworn brothers - Cao Ren shuddered at the thought of facing down the terrible Zhang Fei, especially after the stress of this protracted campaign.
"We can spare some troops." Cao Ren scratched his beard. "Xu Huang's relief unit is fresh on the field and trained to my standards. Surely it would accept my direct leadership."
"What are you going on about?"
"I should offer my aid to Lü Meng. Help him put this campaign to rest."
"You should take a rest yourself until you start talking sense again." Sima Yi began to lead them both off the rampart. "We never agreed to owe anything to Wu."
"Guan Yu won't fall easily."
"Guan Yu is no longer your concern."
"If he survives? He very well may be. Not right now, of course, but I trust that you prepare for the future by preparing for the worst."
"Hmm. You do have a point." Sima Yi paused. "Even so, why must you be the one to lead? As you said, Xu Huang just recently arrived. Why not send him in your stead?"
"I wish to spare Xu Huang the pain of finishing off his honored rival." Cao Ren took a deep breath. "I also wish to support my own in his time of need."
"Rival? Well then." Sima Yi arched a brow. "I never knew you and Lü Meng shared such a history."
A slight smile. "You never asked."
Jiangling, 208
"It's been quiet. I don't like that." Niu Jin frowned, studying the map spread out in the officers' meeting room. "Zhou Yu must be up to something. What do you think he's planning?"
Quiet was the same background rhythm of these past few months - the creak of catapults and ballistae, the thud of cast boulders and bolts, soldiers and engineers scurrying throughout Jiangling city to maintain siege weaponry and patch the earthen walls. Quiet was occasionally punctuated with a raid on the enemy staging grounds, an approaching siege tower, or the one foiled effort to dig a tunnel. As of late, Zhou Yu's end of such punctuation had been intermittent and called off at first resistance.
"I think his forces are as exhausted as ours." Cao Ren examined the markers for enemy bases of field operations, which moved now and then but gave no sign of expansion. "Zhou Yu took an arrow to his chest and fled to his main camp. No scout has spotted him since. If the wound is severe, his retreat is inevitable. We must simply carry on and prove ourselves more stubborn."
"We need to get out there and fight. We're men of Cao Cao's army, not a bunch of scared little mice. Let's do something different. Something bold. Something Zhou Yu would never expect."
"We don't need to cross the line between risk and recklessness." Cao Ren cast a resigned stare at the map. "Then again, I would have said the same about our enemy's tactics before seeing them in action."
Zhou Yu had repeatedly defied Cao Ren's prudence with strange and successful gambles. His men had sneaked west along the southern bank of the Yangtze, three days' hard march into Cao Cao's territory. They had sacked Jiangling's lone reinforcement point of Yiling, forcing the city into immediate surrender. They had sent the bulk of their army to Yiling when Cao Ren conservatively split his own to retake it, guarding their own camp with a minimal force that repelled his best generals until the others returned from upriver.
Warning bells rang from the watchtowers. Cao Ren and Niu Jin rushed to the southern lookout on the city walls, where they received an answer to their speculation. From all appearances, Zhou Yu hoped to overwhelm them with numbers. The vanguard, several thousand all told, advanced in broad lines across the plain.
"There he is! That filthy mongrel." Niu Jin shot a rude gesture at a distant banner. "Bet he can't fight without any place to hide."
Cao Ren had heard the story countless times over as many bowls of wine. Niu Jin had led the charge to retake Yiling. Lü Meng - the filthy mongrel in question - had defeated him in a surprise attack, and also blocked the forest trails with logs to steal his cavalry as he fled. Irked as he was to lose valuable horses, Cao Ren had to begrudgingly admire the foresight at work.
"Let's arrange a rematch." Cao Ren turned to a nearby lieutenant. "Muster a shock unit. Three hundred men."
Zhou Yu might have numbers, but Cao Ren prided himself on discipline. He relentlessly drilled his men in battle formations, in keeping their will to stand firm against enemy intimidation. Niu Jin might not take many heads from the vanguard, but he could force it to retreat, and give a good rousing show to the rest of their weary forces.
Niu Jin and his unit flowed out of Jiangling's south gate. The shield infantry curved into a wall backed by pikemen and archers. Their first charge sent a shockwave through the front lines, throwing them into unevenly packed confusion. Zhou Yu's men struck back without coordination, regaining minimal ground. This ebb and flow continued in Niu Jin's favor, forcing the vanguard away from the city walls. But his charges began to weaken, and the enemy closed around him like a fist.
Cao Ren thought to pound the gong, to call for the retreat he had so unwisely delayed, to pray that Niu Jin could claw his way out of the ruckus alive. Instead he gave three decisive strikes to his command bell, the signal of supreme authority. Cao Ren raced down to the armory, where his weapon bearers were lined up to dress him for battle.
Assistants helped Cao Ren into the thick layers of his armor - broad pauldrons, padded breastplate and hip skirts, high boots and flared leg guards, a spiked helmet and a streak of war paint beneath each eye. A servant presented his shield, a great wooden oblong reinforced with a rim of steel.
Cao Ren mounted his favorite horse, a gelding he had trained to move as an extension of his own body. His personal guard of elite cavalry, who had prepared themselves at first strike of the bell, followed in a precise grid.
Chen Qiao, chief clerk of Jiangling, scurried to block the city gate. He spread his arms, facing down the armored riders in his wide robes and beaded headdress and embroidered sash heavy with jade ornaments. His right hand clenched a scroll as if to weaponize it by force of will.
"General Cao! What on earth is this foolishness?"
"My troops are in danger. There's no time to discuss. Open the gate!"
"With all due respect, keep your head! Would you risk this city for the lives of a few?"
"Those few are my men. Their lives are my responsibility. How can I guard this place if I cannot protect them as well?" Cao Ren raised his voice. "Now open the gate!"
Chen Qiao got out of the way, instructing the guards to do as told. The city doors swung open as Cao Ren accelerated through them, focusing his gaze on the hordes ahead. Time began to dilate, slowing the gait of his gallop to heartbeats. Weak spots appeared in the miasma of enemy soldiers, formless squads readily frightened by the thunder of cavalry. Cao Ren found his opening and aimed for it.
Cao Ren cleaved the vanguard as a battering ram, shielding himself against the bombardment of blades and arrows. His riders followed close behind him in a tight spearhead. A stream of soldiers escaped in the cavalry's wake. Further out, a single banner remained, sagging and about to fall.
From within the gates, Niu Jin was pounding a drum to signal his safety. Cao Ren ignored him and plunged back into the melee. The banner dropped before Cao Ren reached it. He cleared a path through the hordes, revealing a handful of injured soldiers and the bodies of those he had failed to save. The shocked gratitude in the eyes of the living helped to mitigate his regret over the dead.
The enemy troops scrambled and fled, called back by their commanders' gongs. As Cao Ren began his own retreat, Lü Meng's drum unit fired up with an urgent rhythm. Cao Ren wheeled around as a flash of red and gold made a break for him.
Cao Ren crouched low and charged. They clashed on the plain, bout after bout, as Cao Ren endured the shock of glaive against banded wood. As his arm began to weigh heavy, and the strike sounds took on a worrisome edge of splintering. As Cao Ren steeled his stance against the burning fatigue in his thighs, and Lü Meng started to wobble on his own mount.
They rushed at each other yet again. Cao Ren measured the closing distance, anticipating the time until collision. One breath before, Cao Ren's shield drifted down from his face. As Lü Meng rose up and lunged to skewer him, Cao Ren ducked and clenched his horse tight. He threw his weight sideways, knocking Lü Meng to the ground.
Cao Ren unbuckled his shield and dropped it. He dismounted and removed his helmet, holding it to his chest like an offered gift. It was an empty show of vulnerability, as his cavalry stayed close, and archers and siege engineers watched from the city walls. Yet it carried enough symbolic weight that Lü Meng stood up and composed himself, leaving his glaive where it fell.
Lü Meng wore light armor adorned with brass lions and golden tassels. His hair was bound in a low ponytail, his rugged face unshaven, his eyes incisive and suspicious. This was the thorn in Cao Ren's side, the wedge into his defenses. Perhaps to be resented for choking off Jiangling - more so to be admired for his gumption in tactics and dueling and trusting this impromptu reprieve.
"So you're the brick wall we've been beating our heads on for these past months." Lü Meng studied Cao Ren as if evaluating him. "I can't say I'm disappointed."
"And you're the horse thief I've heard so much about. Quite clever, I must admit."
"They're well bred horses - well worth the trouble." Lü Meng indicated his mount, which patiently stood at attention. "Perhaps you recognize this one."
The steed's coat was unremarkable, but its behavior seemed in line with Cao Ren's standards. "Perhaps you would care to return it."
"You want me to give up my spoils of battle?"
"I'd want you to stay on as its rider. You two make a good team."
Silence.
Cao Ren continued. "Consider this my personal invitation to surrender."
Lü Meng considered it, his gaze sharpening into a proper glare.
"Renounce my lord's vision of growing our homeland into a kingdom. Spit on the trust and education of my mentors. And for what? To grovel before a tyrant such as Cao Cao?" Lü Meng dropped to his knees, lifting his chin to expose his throat. "You want me to bow my head to that demon? Then go ahead and take it."
The insults cut deep as the worst of Cao Cao's ruthlessness - surrendered troops buried alive for lack of food, an entire province slaughtered over the wrongs of its leader. Cao Ren swallowed a retort, choosing calmer words to ease Lü Meng's anger and his own guilt over its root.
"I have no need nor desire to do so."
Lü Meng kept his unflinching reserve.
"My lord is harsh. I will not deny or defend that. I will say that his conquest serves the common people." Cao Ren took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Cao Cao provides academies within the reach of peasants, farms for hungry soldiers to earn their keep. Structure so critical to the rebirth of our war-ravaged north."
No response. No movement. No expression.
"I believe in the boon of Cao Cao's vision, and thus I fight for it. I also fight to lessen its price in whichever way I can." Cao Ren set down his helmet and approached. "And so I refuse to waste the lives of good men."
Lü Meng remained unmoved as Cao Ren stood before him. Only when Cao Ren extended an arm did he look up, eyes narrowed with confusion. As Lü Meng took that arm and got back on his feet, his gaze softened with a curiosity beyond the relief of being spared.
"Curse my lord as you must." Cao Ren motioned for his men to bring Lü Meng his weapon and horse. "But return to your own with honor."
Lü Meng mounted up as the guards refrained from making any move against him. He backed away, puzzling at Cao Ren for a good long moment before turning tail for his own camp.
Fan Castle, 219
"You didn't think to kill him?" Sima Yi refilled both of their wine bowls. "Not for a single moment?"
Cao Ren snorted. "Was that even a question?"
Sima Yi had invited Cao Ren back to his quarters, a surprising act of hospitality. The otherwise distant adviser had even managed to relax, his chill fading like frost in the early spring thaw. Perhaps this amity had more to do with the sharing of liquor than companionship, but it was welcome nonetheless.
"You sent Niu Jin out to inspire your men. Slaying a general would have boosted their morale even further."
"It wouldn't have saved the city. Our supplies were dwindling, our troops falling to injury. And what if Lü Meng came to change his mind? Some of our best men were once our enemies."
"Xu Huang, White Wave bandit. Zhang Liao, former right hand of the treacherous Lü Bu. It is true. One must keep a man alive to put him to use."
Cao Ren ignored the callous edge on that last bit. "Who knew what favor I could ask in the future. What friendship I could forge, if I were fortunate enough to do so."
"A strategically soft heart." Sima Yi shook his head in amusement. "That's new to me."
"It shouldn't be. You must know that southern Jing province fell into the hands of Wu."
"I'm well aware. Guan Yu will have quite a ways to run if he wishes to save his own head."
"Then you must also know that Lü Meng took it peacefully. He refused to harm one hair of a citizen. He sailed upriver in merchant's disguise and gave out food, supplies, and medicine. In turn, the people welcomed Lü Meng and gave Guan Yu no quarter."
"So, a sneak attack. Well played, expected as it might be from those river rats."
"Such ploys are an art to Wu." Cao Ren took a sip of wine. "Even more so than fire."
"Shall I presume that you know this from personal experience?"
Cao Ren laughed. "Was that even a question?"
Ruxukou, 217
The Ruxukou fortress guarded Sun Quan's docks on the north shore of the Yangtze where it met the Ruxu tributary. From the distance of Cao Ren and Zhang Liao's approach, the stronghold appeared as a toy block, its defense force marching ants. Warships gathered in the harbor, preparing to clash with the allied fleet from upstream.
Zhang Liao spoke as if his voice were a blade to pierce the walls from afar. "This is it."
"The end of this useless enmity? It's well past time for that."
"Indeed it is, my friend. We can count our share of triumphs." Zhang Liao fell silent as if thinking back to his legendary defense of Hefei, where he scared off Sun Quan's massive army with a small and aggressive force. "Even so, what purpose was there in all of this back and forth sniping? What greater sense of achievement?"
"We bolstered our defenses along the river, both in fortifications and in numbers." Cao Ren paused in thought. "Yet we grew those ranks by uprooting citizens from the north. I can keep my men productive, but I cannot cure every ache of displacement."
"There's no use in letting that guilt weigh on you. Perhaps not so much in those defenses, either, thanks to this damned bridge from the south."
Twin to a naval base on the opposite bank of the Yangtze, Ruxukou was a convenient crossing for waterborne troops and a constant threat of invasion. Sacking the stronghold would seal off that threat. A quick and decisive victory would hammer the message home, deterring Sun Quan from any schemes to strike elsewhere - and perhaps forcing him into submission.
Zhang Liao turned his head with a knowing gaze. "Why so concerned?"
Cao Ren took care to keep a neutral expression, to present himself as a rock to his men. Though often seen as emotionless to the point of apathy, he never managed to fully hide his thoughts from the eyes of Zhang Liao.
"Our armies once tried and failed to capture this place. The defenses have surely been tightened in the four years since. I expect we'll face an even greater challenge."
"As do I, but we've learned much from that campaign. Our window of attack may be short." Zhang Liao had no need to elaborate. In winter, Ruxukou maintained a small navy. The high waters of spring would carry a full fleet of reinforcements - perhaps even a counterattack. "But our swift strike will bring the enemy to its knees."
"What if it doesn't?"
Zhang Liao refused to show any hint of doubt in all but the most secretive discussions. His expression maintained its steel confidence, as if apprehension were a leaf on the wind to carry back to the troops twenty paces behind their horses. Still he took a long moment before replying.
"Then we do as we must."
Ruxukou loomed, its defenders unmoving. Zhang Liao spurred his vanguard into an early rush, forcing the enemy to charge. His squads pierced the front lines, scattering their initial formations. Cao Ren's infantry followed close behind to prevent the stragglers from regrouping.
Steadily and surely, the defense force was pushed back to the fortress moat. Cao Ren relaxed a notch, internally chiding himself for his prior unease. Then he saw movement, hordes of men lining up shoulder to shoulder.
A curtain of crossbow bolts swept down from the rampart. The vanguard troops stumbled, fell. They backed away in awkward formation, clenching their small shields even as they began to split under barrage after subsequent barrage. Some of the archers tried to retaliate, but their sparse and few shots were pebbles against the hailstorm.
Cao Ren and Zhang Liao called for retreat. Their armies made double time over a hard hour back to the encampment, a makeshift fortification encircled with earthworks and spiked barricades cut from the nearby woodland. The generals retired to their command tent as medics cared for the wounded and troops groaned about the ambush that had driven them off in such disarray.
"So my courage crossed the thin line into arrogance." Zhang Liao took a long sip of tea. "I should have known it wouldn't be that simple."
"You led superbly as usual. No one expects you to be prescient."
"I led my men into injury and death, and all for nothing. No gain in morale or territory or resources. Without a better approach, I only see more of the same in our future."
"This fortress cannot be isolated into submission, at least not by the end of winter. Or convinced to preemptively surrender, judging from the welcome we received."
"Then we force our way in, or wear the enemy down to the same effect."
"In other words, we prove ourselves more stubborn." Cao Ren poured himself another cup as an idea began to form. "I just might have some thoughts on that matter."
Zhang Liao smiled. "I would expect nothing less from you."
Preparations were made over the following week, and the armies gathered for another march on Ruxukou. Oxen accompanied the rearguard, hauling cartloads of thick wooden shields - tall as a man and twice as wide, with an eye slit at appropriate height. Convinced by Zhang Liao to show some flair, Cao Ren had let the engineers decorate his own with metal bands and elaborate painted detail.
Cao Ren's troops equipped themselves and formed a tight line. They approached the fortress, marching steadily as the crossbowmen appeared and raised their weapons. Archers and infantry followed behind the shield wall. The field was empty of ground defenders - cleared for the coming storm.
The human wall stopped, rooted itself, waited. Cao Ren had no need to pound the war drums, or to order his men to thump their shields to similar effect. This show of defiance spoke for itself.
The crossbowmen unleashed their first bombardment. Rejecting his instinct to flinch, Cao Ren braced his shield as he ducked below its eye slit. Bolts deflected off the heavy wood in a deluge of thumps. One lodged in the peephole, barely missing his helmet.
Cao Ren absorbed two more barrages as he honed his sense of their timing. Just before the crossbowmen stood back up for their next round, he commanded the archers to shoot. With limited visibility through the shield gaps, many of their arrows went wild. A few struck home, sending several crossbowmen out of sight with injury. A mere chip in Ruxukou's defenses, but nonetheless satisfying - a wedge into a crack that might, with patience, be widened.
A lightly armored figure watched from the rampart, unmistakable even across nine years' time. Lü Meng's ponytail was wild and windblown, his brass pauldron agleam in the sun. His gaze stretched far into the north, periodically dropping to survey the battlefield. Cao Ren peered up through his shield as if he could invite those deep and brooding eyes to meet his own. He swore they burned for one brief moment before looking away without acknowledgement.
"What exactly are we dealing with?" Zhang Liao grumbled. "A fortress, or a porcupine?"
"Same difference, I'd say, given that we haven't yet seen its underbelly." Cao Ren refrained from adding his doubts on whether Ruxukou had one.
They were marching for the third time in as many weeks since their initial assault with the shield wall. Cao Ren and Zhang Liao meant for the enemy to waste their resources, turning to reckless measures that would leave them vulnerable. Ruxukou had no apparent shortage of materiel or men. The bolt rain was constant and heavy, the odd injured crossbowman quickly patched up or replaced, the stronghold impregnable as ever.
"I suppose we should expect as much from our opponent. Lü Meng put up one hell of a fight during the retreat from Hefei." Zhang Liao smiled slightly. "About what you would have given me, had we ever been so unlucky as to cross blades."
"Lü Meng was key to breaking my defense of Jiangling. Clearly he can mount one of his own as well."
"How much ammunition must he be hoarding?"
"Enough that I'm starting to question my personal habits of supply management."
"Watch. When we get in there, that's all we'll find. One great heap of bolts."
Cao Ren had to chuckle at the thought. "At least they'll make for a great victory bonfire."
The battle began like the others before. An approach with the shields, now pockmarked with dents. An exchange of shots mostly blocked or missed on both sides. A charge from the defense infantry, repelled by Zhang Liao's units before it could circle around the shield wall.
Lü Meng appeared dead center on the rampart. His left hand held a bow - his right, a bulky arrow. With smooth and sure precision, he took aim and let fly. His shot bounced off Cao Ren's shield, landing at his feet.
Flags of armistice went up, and the crossbowmen lowered their weapons. Cao Ren signaled his own soldiers accordingly and went to retrieve the arrow. As he had noticed during its flight, it carried a message - an invitation to talk.
Ruxukou opened, and Lü Meng strode out alone - no weapon in hand, no troops lined up behind him in the courtyard visible through the fortress gates. Cao Ren stayed with his men, wary of going forth in kind. Perhaps Lü Meng was sincere about negotiating like a gentleman. Or perhaps he schemed to greet Cao Ren with the blare of a war horn and a barrage to end his life.
"Quite the noble shield you have, but it's not what I came out here to see." Lü Meng's yell carried a friendly note. "Put that down for a moment, why don't you? I'd like to talk face to face."
"I'd like to avoid being lured into an ambush."
"Do you really expect me to kill you?"
"You already tried once before."
"That was a long time ago, back when I had more anger than forethought. I've since learned much from those wiser than myself." Lü Meng paused for effect. "And so I refuse to waste the lives of good men."
That last line resonated as Cao Ren dropped his shield and walked out to close the distance between them. Lü Meng had once challenged him as a young man full of fire and fury, prepared to kill or die in the same reflexive breath. His features were since chiseled by maturity, his eyes calmed into measured vigilance. Still they smoldered with a spark of appreciation that brought a heat to Cao Ren's face beneath their scrutiny.
"You flatter me," Cao Ren said.
"It's an honest compliment. I hadn't expected such honor from a relation of Cao Cao, especially when I did nothing to deserve it."
"All men deserve honor unless they prove themselves unworthy. What was your transgression?"
"I insulted your lord and your offer of employment. I could have stood to be a bit more diplomatic."
"Harsh words are expected from one's enemy, and need not be taken to heart." Cao Ren recalled an omission thereof that had stuck with him enough to wonder if he gave it too much weight. "Furthermore, you didn't insult me."
"Would you have taken my head if I did?"
"Not by choice, and not just for that. Only by necessity - only when more harmonious measures have failed."
Their armies kept their reprieve as warships clashed in the river behind them. Two small boats rammed a great castle ship of Cao Cao's, then latched on with hooks and spars. Sailors nimbly leaped aboard as the gangways were being extended, rushing a crew still reeling from the shock of collision.
Lü Meng spoke with wry commiseration. "Not much harmony to be found in this battle, is there?"
"Not much at all, apart from this talk of ours."
"Would you agree it's a start?"
"It is, though I wonder what resolution we could come to. We can share words. We cannot share a fortress."
"We could share a truce - your lord and mine - if someone would take the first step of putting down the sword."
Strange words from a commander of Sun Quan, who had launched so many attacks against Cao Cao. Still, a man could act loyally in his lord's service while questioning the wisdom of his directives. Lü Meng might simply be playing to Cao Ren's biases. But he had been the one to initiate this talk, and he sought to convince with the peace of a treaty rather than the threat of imminent defeat. Idealistic as the thought might be, perhaps he was of similar mind.
"I have my orders," Cao Ren said. "Yet their details might be up for interpretation. After all, a campaign must adapt to the rigors of the field."
"As with that shield wall of yours. Defense as offense - well played." Lü Meng smiled. "For a bulwark personified, you do know when it comes time to bend."
"I cannot promise that this is one of those times. I can give my word that I'll consider it."
The generals bowed to each other, calmly backing away before signaling their respective retreats.
Cao Ren took a sip of tea, not realizing he was about to inhale it until the wayward liquid sent him into a racking cough. Zhang Liao pounded him on the back until his breathing settled to normal.
"Tell me that was entirely the fault of your tea."
"It was."
"Now tell me you aren't lying for my benefit."
"Why would I?" Cao Ren snorted. "That would be an endeavor doomed to fail."
The parallel hung between them unspoken. Their time was running short, and they had gained neither foothold nor traction. Now the sickness of spring had come early, threatening to sweep the camp despite their best efforts of quarantine.
"Our morale is low, and our men need their rest." Zhang Liao pressed his lips together in a firm line. "Yet I hate to leave this place empty-handed."
"You said yourself that we would do as we must. Sometimes retreat is the best course of action."
"Sometimes it is - when no other option remains."
Zhang Liao had scoffed at Lü Meng's suggestion to withdraw their troops, considering it an obvious ploy from a commander about to crack under continued pressure. In the weeks since, that pressure had only hardened the stalemate. The navy was faring no better, too preoccupied with its own struggles to aid the campaign on land.
"Tomorrow, we march once more." Zhang Liao's tone was grim. "And whatever the result, so be it."
Night fell dark and overcast, its haze dimming the camp torches to a sickly glow. Cao Ren shifted restlessly on his pallet, exhausted but unable to sleep. The soft jingle of bells seemed to filter through his tent wall. Cao Ren focused on breathing with deep and relaxing rhythm, driving the aural illusion from his tired mind.
Camp erupted in shouts and the fitful stampede of boots. Cao Ren scrambled into the light armor kept in his tent for emergencies. He armed himself with a halberd, applying his war paint to clear the last cobwebs of slumber before charging out into the raid.
Mayhem came into focus through flickers of firelight. Disorganized troops flailed about in fear of hitting their compatriots. Raiders struck like wild beasts uncaged, igniting tents and hunting down stragglers attempting to flee.
That jingle sounded again, louder and closer and no longer a waking dream. Its originator charged from the haze, a bare-chested specter becoming flesh in the light of conflagration. His pants and head scarf were of shining rich silk, his waist adorned with a string of bells, his eyes ablaze with bloodlust. He carried a double-headed chain flail, twirling one end with barely restrained menace.
"The name's Gan Ning." A sneer. "Try not to forget it before I cream your head into porridge."
Cao Ren stood his wary ground, shifting his stance as Gan Ning shuffled left and right in attempts to flank him. The camp was in flames, and they could only hope to retreat with minimal casualties. Ideally Cao Ren would lead a rearguard, but the fear and fire and smoke prevented his men from regrouping. Within this chaos, dueling the enemy leader was the best protection he could offer.
"Nice eye makeup you've got there. What are you? A sing-song girl?" Gan Ning struck straight out as Cao Ren dodged to the side. "Guess that explains why you'd rather dance than fight."
The armory was well across camp, its great shields likely lost to the fire, and a polearm a difficult match for a weapon as erratic as its owner. Perhaps Gan Ning could be lulled into predictability by indulging his arrogance.
"This is pathetic. I almost pissed myself when I heard I'd be going after Cao Cao's finest." Gan Ning swept at knee height, causing Cao Ren to jump backward. "And here I find out he's running a chicken farm."
Gan Ning hopped from foot to foot, clucking as he continued to threaten with the flail. When Gan Ning began to flap his arms, Cao Ren chanced his first strike. It was easily dodged and countered with a shot at his head.
Cao Ren offered up another basic stab. Gan Ning launched into a series of swings, a dizzying tornado of various heights and angles. Cao Ren dashed back repeatedly to stay out of range, his halberd braced as if testing the possibility of parrying. Instead he braced for an attack that his defensive stance was to bait Gan Ning into attempting.
Gan Ning lashed out in a vertical arc. The chain of his flail wrapped tight around the halberd haft as his eyes lit up in triumph. Cao Ren threw his weight backward. Gan Ning lurched momentarily, digging in his heels before he was yanked flat on his face.
"Finally." Gan Ning laughed, pulling himself forward along the trapped chain. "About damn time you joined the fun."
"Fun? What part of this is amusing to you?"
"Setting fires, killing vermin, sticking their heads on spikes to fancy the place up a bit. Just wish I'd brought some wine to the party."
"Those 'vermin' are fleeing. They mean you no harm. Yet you hunt them down while mocking my valor."
"What the hell else am I supposed to do with a bunch of rabble?" Gan Ning got himself face to face. His breath reeked of the remnants of liquor. "In case you haven't noticed, we're at war here."
"I'm well aware, but there's no honor in worsening its pain."
"What do you want, then? A pillow fight? Don't act all pure like you never killed anybody."
"I shed blood when I must. I don't claim to enjoy doing so." Cao Ren gave a sharp tug on the halberd. "And I've long since grown past wallowing in it like a pig in the mud."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Killing is bad, except when you say it isn't. Save me the lecture. I already get enough of that from my old man Lü Meng."
Cao Ren's stance slackened as the name sent a shock through him. Gan Ning leaped forward into a tackle, knocking him flat and momentarily breathless on his back. Blinking the stars from his eyes, Cao Ren braced his halberd as Gan Ning fought to shove it into his throat.
"What was that you were saying about mud?" Gan Ning cackled. "Here, piggy piggy. Nice to see you're already fattened up for the slaughter."
Cao Ren ignored the petty insult, tautening his arms as they began to tremble with exertion. Gan Ning leaned harder on the halberd. Sweat dripped from his forehead, a stinging blur in Cao Ren's eye.
"You feel that? Drip, drip goes the clock. That's your life running out."
A blade whipped over Cao Ren's head. Gan Ning ducked and dropped the halberd, rolling away before Zhang Liao's next strike buried itself in his torso. Looking around wildly, Gan Ning scurried to grab the sword of a fallen soldier. He charged back in with a cocky scowl and the blade awhirl in his hand.
"You think I'm done? Running scared?" Gan Ning grinned, twirling his sword even faster. "Joke's on you. I'm just getting started."
"Go. Lead the retreat." Zhang Liao jerked a commanding nod as he brandished his own polearm. "I'll put this braggart in his place."
Camp was a burning beacon on the moonless plain, surrounded by uncertain flocks of escaped soldiers. Cao Ren sounded a call to assemble on his war horn, mobilizing the daunted and disordered troops for their long march back up the Ruxu.