Reborn In The Three Kingdoms
Chapter 792: 755. Ma Chao & The First Group Arrived At Xiapi

Chapter 792: 755. Ma Chao & The First Group Arrived At Xiapi

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Their presence was not mere formality, each of them was a blade in his arsenal, and today, the blades would be unsheathed. Lie Fan let out a dry chuckle as they walked. “Imagine it,” he said, voice tinged with irony. “Some of them actually think I’d reverse course just because a few quills signed their names in protest.”

Sima Yi smirked. “The old tigers cling to the past, my lord. They don’t realize the forest has changed, and they’re no longer the apex.”

Pang Tong scoffed, arms crossed. “They’ve grown fat and complacent. Let them come. We’ll sharpen the stakes with their words, my lord.”

Jia Xu gave a wry nod. “They are pawns, my lord. I would bet my beard that this protest was engineered by more clever men behind the curtains, testing your resolve through disposable fools. We should treat them accordingly.”

Zhuge Liang looked thoughtful, his fan tapping gently against his palm. “I would prefer another method, perhaps reason, perhaps compromise. But since they’ve chosen this path, we must respond in kind, my lord. They came to make a spectacle. Let’s give them one.”

Lie Fan’s chuckle returned, colder this time. “Very well. Let’s put on a show.”

The grand doors of the main hall loomed ahead, already open. Guards in ceremonial armor flanked the entrance. Inside, eight men, representatives of noble families and scholarly clans, stood stiffly, waiting. Their faces bore masks of respect, but their eyes were wary, uncertain. Some trembled behind the practiced poise.

As Lie Fan entered, they bowed deeply. “We greet you, my lord.”

Lie Fan offered a brief, cold glance and walked past them without returning the courtesy. His steps were measured, regal. He ascended the steps to the dais and seated himself upon the elevated chair, the emblem of his authority engraved above him in lacquered wood.

Jia Xu and Sima Yi took their place to his right, Zhuge Liang and Pang Tong to his left. The four of them observed the assembled nobles with the quiet amusement of scholars watching children stumble through a lesson they had long since mastered.

A hush fell over the chamber.

Lie Fan’s gaze swept over the eight men. All were of decent standing. Families with ancient roots, scholars with storied ancestors, but none held real weight now. They had been left behind by time and ambition, his ambition.

“Well,” he began, voice as calm as winter frost, “I was told you came with grievances. Speak.”

The eldest among them, a thin man named Lu Deyuan with narrow eyes and a ceremonial robe too long for his hunched frame, stepped forward. He held a scroll, hands trembling slightly, though whether from age or fear it was hard to tell.

“My lord,” he said, bowing again, “we come with utmost humility to request a reconsideration of the first phase of the educational reform you approved. The implementation of these practical teaching academies, teaching the common people knowledge they shouldn’t have or comprehend is deeply unsettling. Families who have taught Confucian classics for generations now find themselves discredited. Some students question their elders asking about the common people’s education plight they called it. The harmony of tradition is—”

“Harmony?” Lie Fan interrupted softly.

Lu Deyuan faltered. “Y-yes, my lord. Harmony.”

Lie Fan rose, descending the dais slowly. The men instinctively stepped back.

“I once read that a tree must sometimes be pruned to bear better fruit,” he said, walking slowly in front of them. “Tell me, Master Lu Deyuan, when was the last time your clan admitted a student from a farmer’s family into your so called academy?”

Lu Deyuan’s mouth opened, then shut.

Another man, Ping Xin, stepped in. “My lord, surely you understand, the classics require upbringing and cultivated thought. A peasant’s son—”

“—may very well be the next Xunzi,” Lie Fan snapped. “Or the next Wang Can. What you mean is that your families have grown lazy and entitled, hoarding learning as though it were heirloom silverware to be passed down and locked away.”

The eight men tensed. Some looked to the advisors for support. None came.

Jia Xu, standing beside Lie Fan, let out a quiet sigh. “My lord, if I may?”

Lie Fan waved a hand in permission.

Jia Xu stepped forward, his voice smooth as silk. “Gentlemen, let us be frank. You are not here out of concern for tradition. You are here because your power is slipping. And rather than adapt, you cling to the old ways, hoping to stall progress.”

Sima Yi chuckled darkly. “A futile effort.”

Bao Huan, a scholar with a pinched face, bristled. “We are not fools, Lord Lie Fan. We know what this truly is, a purge. You seek to break the noble houses and replace us with your own loyalists!”

For a moment, silence.

Then Lie Fan smiled.

It was not a pleasant expression.

“If I wanted to purge you,” he said softly, “you would already be dead.”

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances. Lie Fan who walked back and forth paused in front of Lu Deyuan once again. The old man looked up at him with a mix of fear and confusion.

“You came here hoping to shake the mountain,” Lie Fan said softly. “But the eight of you forget, I am the mountain here.”

He turned to the guards. “Seize the scrolls they brought. Burn them.”

The guards moved swiftly. Protests rose from the eight men, but they were ignored.

Then Lie Fan spoke once more, his voice echoing across the hall. “Let this be known to all noble and scholarly clans, the first phase will continue. The second phase will be harsher. The third will be permanent. I will raise a generation of thinkers who serve the people, not themselves. If that frightens you, then you are not fit to be part of my vision.”

The eight men were dismissed, and escorted out not with dignity, but like errant schoolchildren caught lying. The doors shut behind them with a final, echoing boom.

Silence held for a moment.

Then Jia Xu spoke, pleased. “That will rattle the ones hiding behind them. They’ll reconsider before sending more fools.”

Sima Yi nodded. “A fine performance, my lord.”

Lie Fan returned to his dais, exhaling. “Let it be done. Now…”

He glanced at a fresh report brought in, Ma Chao’s group had reached a fortified checkpoint near the Great Wall. The guards reported seeing elders and children weeping at the gates, not from fear, but relief.

Lie Fan smiled again. “Now let us continue to prepare a proper welcome for our coming guests.”

Three weeks drifted by in relative calm, but beneath the surface of Xiapi, the tide of preparation surged ever onward. Messages were dispatched, messengers arrived, supplies accounted for, and the entire city braced for what was to come, not a siege, but a swelling of power.

Word had already spread like wildfire through the provinces under Lie Fan, that Ma Chao and his entire clan, were coming east not to fight, but to kneel toward Lie Fan.

And at last, on a brisk morning where clouds hung low like banners of mist, Ma Chao’s entourage arrived.

Xiapi received them with solemn grandeur.

The vanguard came first, riders bearing the Ma Clan standard, flanked by cavalry clad in the distinct armor of Liang Province, their faces dust-streaked but eyes sharp.

Behind them rolled carriages and wagons, supplies, families, retainers, scribes, and servants. Ma Chao had brought not just warriors, but his legacy. His people. His clan. They had journeyed far, through rough passes and along dry roads, and as they approached the outer gates of Xiapi, all eyes lifted.

The outer walls stood like mountains themselves, high, wide, and polished to a dusky gray that reflected the morning light like tempered steel.

Their size dwarfed anything the Ma Clan had seen, even the grand gates of Chang’an. Towering watchtowers crowned the ramparts, soldiers in uniform armor standing at attention, motionless as statues but alert like hounds.

From his horse, Ma Xiu couldn’t hide his astonishment. “So this is the city that grew under the hand of the hegemon of the central plain,” he murmured.

Even Pang De, hardened by a life of warfare, gave a slow nod. “A city that commands respect before a single word is spoken. It’s the most defensible city I have ever seen.”

Ma Yunlu, riding beside Ma Xiu, leaned forward, eyes wide. “The outer walls are thicker than the walls of Chang’An! Look at the bastions, double reinforced.”

Ma Chao remained silent, his sharp eyes scanning the battlements. But in his chest, pride mingled with caution. After succeeding his father, he had a new perspective as a leader and realized that Lie Fan was no ordinary ally.

The city guards, clad in polished armor, escorted them through the gates. The streets were clean, and bustling with merchants, artisans, and laborers. There were no beggars, no signs of famine or neglect. Everywhere they looked, there was order, controlled, deliberate, and absolute.

Soon enough, the group reached the grand avenue leading to the inner city. There, even Ma Chao had to breathe in deeply. The city changed from prosperity to splendor. Roads paved with lacquered stones, lanterns of carved jade, merchant halls lined with colored awnings.

At the heart of it all lay the palace, more fortress than manor, a structure of layered elegance, red pillars rising like spears toward the sky, roofs of emerald green with golden tips gleaming in the light.

At the gate to the palace, three figures awaited them, Chen Qun, Lu Su, and Xu Shu, each clad in refined robes of state. Their postures were composed, yet welcoming, eyes respectful yet discerning.

As Ma Chao dismounted, recognition flickered in his eyes. These were not mere attendants. These men were part of Lie Fan’s inner council. He stepped forward with a confident smile, clasping his fists in greeting.

“Masters Chen, Lu, Xu,” Ma Chao said, bowing slightly. “It’s good to see familiar faces again.”

Lu Su smiled warmly. “Lord Ma Chao. Welcome back to Xiapi.”

Ma Xiu, Pang De, and Ma Yunlu followed suit, bowing respectfully. Behind them, the Ma Clan elders emerged slowly from their carriage, adjusting robes and leaning on canes. They too offered proper greetings, some more hesitant than others, their eyes lingering on the grandeur of the palace grounds.

Lu Su turned to address them all. “By Lord Lie Fan’s order, only Lord Ma Chao, his siblings, General Pang De, and the elders will proceed to the palace. The rest of your family will be escorted to the estate prepared for them.”

Ma Chao nodded. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Lu Su waved a hand. “Do not thank me. This was Lord Lie Fan’s command.”

With that, the majority of the Ma Clan were led away by guards, their faces a mix of exhaustion and relief. They had survived. They had reached safety.

Chen Qun stepped forward, gesturing politely toward the main courtyard. “This way, my lords. Lord Lie Fan awaits.”

The inner court of the palace was a masterpiece of refinement and purpose. The main hall they entered was not the imperial court, but a receiving chamber of distinction.

A long hall with polished floors, two rows of pillars like orderly sentinels, and banners of golden thread swaying lightly in the breeze from high windows.

At the far end, Lie Fan sat upon a raised dais, his posture relaxed but his presence undeniable.

He was not clad in ceremonial robes, nor did he wear the trappings of a ruler trying to impress. Instead, he was dressed simply, as if this were just another meeting. Yet the moment Ma Chao and his family entered, Lie Fan stood. “Welcome, Lord Ma Chao, Young Lord Ma Xiu, Lady Ma Yunlu, General Pang De, and honored elders of the Ma Clan. I hope your journey is not to tiring.”

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 34 (201 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 1325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 951 (+20)

VIT: 613 (+20)

AGI: 598 (+10)

INT: 617

CHR: 96

WIS: 519

WILL: 407

ATR Points: 0

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