Who in the world does not know you?

Clearly, the safest approach would have been to defend directly and take that blow head-on. But Su Ming deliberately chose not to do so.

Instead, he thrust his phoenix-winged golden spear straight toward Guan Yun Chang’s chest. No defense—Su Ming opted for attack.

This move startled Guan Yun Chang. Facing Su Ming’s first two strikes, he had chosen to defend. So when Guan Yun Chang delivered his third blow, he naturally assumed Su Ming would defend again.

Never did he expect Su Ming, in the face of that third attack, to choose offense.

Now, Guan Yun Chang was caught in a dilemma. If he continued with his third strike, Su Ming’s spear would pierce straight into his chest. But if he withdrew his blade, the force of his own attack would rebound upon him, and he would inevitably fall from his horse.

In this contest between masters, Guan Yun Chang had clearly fallen behind. Every move he made was within Su Ming’s prediction, while Su Ming’s steps remained unfathomable to him.

Both men were on the verge of mutual destruction. At that critical moment, Guan Yun Chang chose to withdraw his blade.

As he did so, the force transferred onto himself, and he was thrown heavily from his mount onto the ground.

Su Ming dared to gamble; Guan Yun Chang did not. If he hadn’t retreated, both would have suffered grievous wounds. That blade might not have taken Su Ming’s life, but Su Ming’s spear was aimed at his heart—one thrust would mean certain death.

Guan Yu was not afraid to die, but he had greater responsibilities. He still had to escort the two ladies back to his elder brother; he dared not die yet.

Thus, Guan Yun Chang would rather fall from his horse than risk his life in a desperate struggle with Su Ming.

Coughing, Guan Yun Chang struggled to his feet, his expression grave. “I have lost,” he said.

“The loser must accept defeat. Bring the shackles,” he declared.

Su Ming paused, surprised that the ever-proud Guan Yun Chang could admit defeat so readily.

“I trust General Guan,” Su Ming replied. “Please, follow me to the camp. We will wait for the Chancellor’s arrival before settling everything.”

He did not order anyone to bind Guan Yun Chang.

Guan Yun Chang clasped his hands in respect toward Su Ming. “Thank you.”

True to his word, Guan Yu dutifully escorted the ladies’ carriage and followed Su Ming into the Yellow River encampment.

“Qin Qi, arrange a separate tent for General Guan,” Su Ming instructed.

“Ensure all food and drink are provided,” Su Ming added as he addressed Qin Qi.

Having witnessed Su Ming defeat Guan Yun Chang in three moves, Qin Qi was utterly astonished.

“Yes!” he replied promptly. “I will make the arrangements at once.”

...

Yellow River encampment.

Central command tent.

Since Su Ming’s victory over Guan Yu, Sun Shangxiang had been in a sullen mood.

“What’s wrong? Not happy?” Su Ming asked, noticing Sun Shangxiang’s odd demeanor.

Sun Shangxiang tilted her chin, her expression fierce as a little lion, and shouted at Su Ming, “Do you realize you nearly died just now?”

“His blade was only inches from you. If he hadn’t withdrawn, what would you have done?”

“If you act like this again, I... I’ll never speak to you again!”

Upon hearing her words, Su Ming finally understood the cause of her unhappiness: his reckless duel with Guan Yu.

Su Ming reached out and pinched Sun Shangxiang’s delicate nose, smiling. “How could your Brother Su ever do something as foolish as risking life for life?”

“Don’t forget, besides this phoenix-winged golden spear, I also have a pair of golden cudgels.”

“Even if Guan Yun Chang hadn’t retreated, I could have knocked his Green Dragon Crescent Blade aside.”

This was not an empty boast. Su Ming’s switch from defense to offense was precisely because he had a secondary weapon.

His saddle carried a pair of golden cudgels. Even if Guan Yun Chang hadn’t withdrawn, Su Ming could have countered with one of them.

He might not have disarmed Guan Yun Chang entirely, but he could certainly have knocked the blade off course. In that case, Su Ming would at most suffer a minor injury, while Guan Yun Chang would die without question.

Thus, Su Ming never stood to lose in that duel.

After Su Ming explained, Sun Shangxiang asked, half-believing, “You’re not lying to me?”

Su Ming gently rubbed her cheek, comforting her. “Of course not. Your Brother Su is the best.”

“A mere Guan Yun Chang could never be my match. Not just him—even his brothers together would not be my opponents.”

Sun Shangxiang finally brightened, nodding vigorously like a chick pecking at grain. “Mm, Brother Su is the very best!”

“Brother Su is the greatest!”

The two gazed at each other affectionately, and for a moment, the temperature inside the tent seemed to rise.

After days spent together, having survived life and death, they had deeply imprinted each other in their hearts.

Just then, Xu Chu entered, carrying two jars of wine.

“Splendid! Absolutely splendid!” he exclaimed. “Thinking of that arrogant Guan Yun Chang falling from his horse fills me with delight.”

“Brother Su, let’s have a drink!” Xu Chu called out, holding up the wine jars.

Seeing Xu Chu, Su Ming’s face darkened.

He thought, ‘You wretch, your timing is impeccable! If you’d been a moment later, I would have been enjoying myself.’

“I’m not drinking. You drink by yourself!” Su Ming retorted. “If you drink, I’ll just have to see if I beat you with the army rod!”

Xu Chu froze, wine jar halfway raised. He suddenly remembered: this was the army, and drinking was forbidden.

Su Ming was the commander for this operation to block Guan Yu, and Xu Chu the deputy. If he drank, Su Ming had every right to punish him.

“I’m just happy—can’t you make an exception?” Xu Chu asked tentatively.

Su Ming thought, ‘You’re happy, but I’m not! You ruined my moment; not beating you is already lenient.’

“I might make an exception, but the army rod won’t!” Su Ming said, face stern.

Xu Chu shivered, set the wine jar down, and said, “Forget it, I’ll save it for when we return to Xu Du.”

...

On the road to the Yellow River crossing.

Dust billowed, flags snapped in the wind.

Thousands of black-armored cavalry thundered past, all bearing banners marked with the character for Cao.

Beneath the central command banner rode a short, dark-faced figure. If not for the generals surrounding him, one might have mistaken him for a farmer.

But he was no farmer; he was the Chancellor of the realm, one of the few great warlords—Cao Cao, styled Mengde.

Cao Cao’s left and right flanks were guarded by two generals: Cao Ren on the left, Cao Hong on the right.

These five thousand cavalry were the elite Tiger and Leopard Cavalry, newly drilled by Cao Cao.

A messenger arrived at a gallop, halted before Cao Cao, dismounted swiftly, and knelt on one knee.

“Chancellor, they have been intercepted!”