Chapter 17: The Bingzhou Brotherhood

As the saying goes, a person cannot stand without trust, and a trade cannot prosper without credibility. Both Wang Mang of the Han dynasty and Sima Yi of the Jin dynasty were masters of this principle, exchanging a lifetime of accumulated trust for the establishment of vast empires.

Such is reality, and naturally, the same applies in the game world. In the realm of True Three Kingdoms, personal reputation influences everything—from the attitudes of various factions toward oneself to the discounts merchants offer on goods.

Although Su Yao did not currently have major expenditures that would consume his reputation points, he had no intention of wasting his precious reputation on this worthless scoundrel.

But that did not mean he would let war criminals slip through the cracks; judgment would come, and he would not tolerate delay...

—Whoosh—

In full view of everyone, the Hundred Cavalry Commander, who had just fled the large camp, was pierced through the heart by an arrow.

“What?”

“Who?!”

The crowd turned to see the archer—none other than the previously bullied Lady Wang. This stunning woman now stood in full armor, bow in hand, her stern expression a stark contrast to the humiliation she had endured before.

“Swallow?!” Cheng Lian gasped, then sighed. “Your archery is still as precise as ever.”

It turned out the two had been childhood neighbors. Life had taken them on different paths—one to the military, the other married far away—and now they met again on this battlefield.

The woman approached, paused before Cheng Lian with a nod, then bowed deeply to Su Yao.

“Lady Wang thanks General Su for the rescue, and even more for allowing me to avenge my enemy with this shot!”

Su Yao waved his hand.

“No thanks needed. Your arrow that killed the enemy not only upheld the honor of the Han woman but also solved my problem. That is enough.”

With that, Su Yao turned away without another glance.

Outside the tent, over forty rescued villagers and seventy-eight prisoners of war stared at him with hundreds of eyes, awaiting their fate.

The heavy air and complex gazes caused Su Yao's expression to harden as he paused momentarily.

The game’s powerful engine sometimes gave him a strange illusion. These NPCs, each with common faces, were independently modeled with carefully drawn variations and subtle facial expressions. Their reactions changed depending on his actions, making it seem as if these NPCs were not mere AI constructs but living, breathing people.

Science truly advances by leaps and bounds, yet such realism could sometimes feel unsettling, could it not?

Su Yao shook his head, tightened his face, dismissing the jumbled thoughts, and focused on the task at hand.

Because the enemy forces were too numerous and surrendered too rapidly, some escaped capture.

Su Yao sensed that, with the intelligence of these AIs, new developments might soon arise.

Regardless, his goal to conquer the Hundred Cavalry Commander remained unchanged. Facing a regional boss commanding thousands with only a mere ten of his Iron Cavalry from Bingzhou, he had to act swiftly and severely, striking before the boss could react or call reinforcements, cutting down the minions as much as possible.

Every second was precious for exploiting such timing gaps and picking off isolated foes.

After entrusting the rescued villagers and spoils to Lady Wang to return them safely to Wang Family Village’s fortress, Su Yao led his knights to mount fresh captured steeds and pressed the assault without pause.

...

Night had fallen over the temporary Han army camp in Qixian County, yet lights burned brightly.

Cheng Lian placed two buckets of wine on the table and called out loudly.

“Brothers Wei, and Old Marquis Song Xian, come—let’s drink!”

“Oh, Xiao Cheng, how long has it been? You’re glowing with health!” Hou Cheng sniffed the wine enthusiastically, delighted. “Good stuff! What’s the occasion?”

Cheng Lian smiled without replying.

At that moment, the Wei brothers, Wei Xu and Wei Yue, arrived. More concerned with news than the sudden feast, they asked:

“Cheng Lian, how is Fengxian? And why haven’t we seen Zhang Congshi return?”

“Don’t worry, Old Wei. Your sister won’t become a widow so easily. Lieutenant Lü is unharmed but needs a few days to rest. As for Zhang Congshi, he has some official duties in the Wang family area and will return tomorrow.”

“So, we’re just left here to keep watch, then?”

Song Xian arrived last, scowling.

“Zhang Congshi even brought wine, so what’s to complain about? Drink up!” Hou Cheng patted Song Xian’s back and pulled him down to sit. The two were old friends from the same hometown, their bond strongest here.

“Wait, wait,” Cheng Lian interrupted, pulling the wine bucket back from Hou Cheng.

“First of all, this wine wasn’t given by Zhang Congshi.”

Wei Xu’s expression changed sharply.

“Cheng Lian, what do you mean? Bringing wine into camp without permission is a serious offense. Don’t drag us into trouble.”

“How can it be unauthorized? Zhang Congshi knows about it. This is our company’s celebration wine, specially entrusted to me by our battalion commander to share with everyone.”

“But your battalion commander? Isn’t he dead?”

Wei Yue looked puzzled.

“And a celebration? What’s going on? I’ve only slept a day here, and the world’s changed?”

“Come on, Cheng, stop teasing and open the wine already!” Hou Cheng pleaded eagerly.

“Ha ha ha!” Cheng Lian slapped the bucket, laughing heartily.

“Believe it or not, today we were magnificent—ten riders against hundreds of enemies. I personally fought through the barbarian ranks three times, covered in blood. We beheaded over a hundred, captured nearly a hundred prisoners, and hauled off entire carts of supplies and horses. And not a single one of us died—only one unlucky fellow got a scratch. Don’t you think we deserve a celebration?”

“You’re already drunk before drinking?” Hou Cheng slapped Cheng Lian’s shoulder and tried to grab the wine.

“Not convinced yet?” Cheng Lian dodged with a smile.

“Over a hundred beheaded and captured? We’re no rookies. How could ten of you all be reincarnations of warlords, breaking a thousand-rider force?” Song Xian snorted coldly.

“Not a thousand, but we did break two hundred-rider units.”

Cheng Lian poured wine for his comrades.

“As for being reincarnated warlords, that’s fitting. Our new battalion commander is truly outrageous.”

“New battalion commander? Who is it?”

“Really that capable?”

Seeing his comrades intrigued, Cheng Lian enthusiastically recounted the two fierce battles of the day in vivid detail, leaving everyone spellbound and amazed.

“Stronger than Fengxian? And only barely twenty?”

“Single-handedly stormed the enemy camp?”

“Firing arrows that hit targets from a hundred paces?”

“When he strikes, heads fly?”

“Tell us more, tell us more. When I get back, the storyteller will like your tale and might even help embellish it further.”

As the wine flowed, laughter filled the air, tears streaming from their eyes.

“Hey, who told you all this?” Cheng Lian protested.

“Take your story to Zhang Congshi and have him record your merits. If he doesn’t scold you to no end, I, Hou Cheng, will take your surname!” Hou Cheng laughed, clutching the wine jar.

“Oh, Old Hou, I think you’ve just changed your name,” Cheng Lian teased, stepping on the table, pressing Hou Cheng’s head down with a laugh.

“Our deeds are recorded now.”

Stories can be fabricated, but battle results cannot.

When Su Yao and his group returned to Wang Family Village with over a hundred rescued people, prisoners, and abundant supplies, Zhang Yang’s mouth dropped wide open—large enough to fit a ball inside.