Empress Feng

"Kill!!"

In front of the Hefei county yamen, Cao Xin was dressed in a white undershirt and wide-legged silk trousers, practicing his spear technique on the training grounds. His figure leapt and spun, wielding a thick, long iron spear with such ferocity that shadows of the weapon danced everywhere, dazzling as the tail feathers of a phoenix.

Suddenly, with a thunderous shout, the spear shot forward like a dragon, the tip bursting forth with nine sharp flashes of cold light, piercing the wooden stakes set on the field.

With a series of explosive cracks, the stakes shattered, fragments scattering across the ground.

“Not bad at all!”

Cao Xin withdrew his iron spear, wiped the sweat from his brow, and a hint of a smile played at his lips.

Not long ago, he had pushed his strength to a hundred, his speed to ninety, the level of an elite general. He was now only surpassed by Lü Bu in terms of speed. With his strength maxed out, not only had his power increased exponentially, but he had also gained a special ability—Super Vitality—tripling his recovery rate and greatly enhancing his stamina and endurance.

Furthermore, he had mastered the Hundred Birds Facing the Phoenix Spear Technique to the level of "Nine Stars in a Single Strike." According to Zhang Xiu, this spear technique originated from the military strategists of the Warring States period, passed down for over four or five centuries. His master, Tong Yuan, at the height of his prowess, had also achieved "Nine Stars in a Single Strike."

But Master Tong Yuan had said that this was not the true limit of the technique. Legend had it that, when perfected, the Hundred Birds Facing the Phoenix would unleash a storm of spear shadows, felling a dozen men in a single breath.

Cao Xin had once thought Zhang Xiu was exaggerating. Yet upon reaching the "Nine Stars" level, he realized there was still room for growth; with enough power, speed, and stamina, even "a hundred stars in a single strike" was not impossible.

Still, with his current skills, there were few in the world who could match him. Whether or not he reached the absolute pinnacle of the art scarcely mattered.

“Invincibility truly is a lonely thing,” Cao Xin mused, gazing at the blazing morning sun over the wall. He hung up his iron spear and returned to the inner residence.

“General!”

A beautiful young woman awaited him in the rear courtyard, accompanied by maids bearing hot water, toiletries, clean robes, and a basket of fresh fruit. Upon his arrival, she and the maids bowed gracefully in the courtly style, their movements elegant and practiced.

“Rise, Juan!” Cao Xin gently took the woman’s delicate wrist and helped her up.

She was in her late teens, petite yet voluptuous, exquisitely beautiful, dressed in a pink palace robe, her hair adorned with a jade comb. Every glance and smile radiated a delicate charm—a veritable enchantress.

This was none other than Feng Juan, the beauty he had rescued from Yuan Shu’s palace just a few days before.

Why “rescued”? This was no idle boast.

Feng Juan hailed from a distinguished family; her father, Feng Fang, had been one of the Eight Commanders of the Western Garden appointed by Emperor Ling of Han, equal in status to such luminaries as Yuan Shao, Bao Hong, and Cao Cao. A hero of his age. But soon after the Eight Commanders were formed, Emperor Ling died, Grand General He Jin was slain by eunuchs, Dong Zhuo marched on Luoyang, and the Eight Commanders collapsed before his advance.

Feng Fang fled with his family to Yangzhou, where he died three years ago.

At the start of the year, Yuan Shu had declared himself emperor and filled his harem with beauties. Feng Juan, famed for her stunning looks, was chosen at a glance and brought into the palace. Her beauty, however, made her the target of jealousy and intrigue among the other consorts.

One told her, “Juan, His Majesty most admires women of ambition and virtue. You should weep with melancholy at all times—he will surely respect you all the more.”

Feng Juan believed her. Whenever she saw Yuan Shu, she would sigh and weep, and Yuan Shu, convinced she was a woman of great ambition, favored her even more, vowing to make her empress. The other women, fearing her potential revenge, decided to strangle her during the chaos of the Cao army’s assault.

When Cao Xin stormed the palace days ago, he found several corpulent consorts throttling Feng Juan with silk sashes, her tongue lolling as she struggled for air. The women scattered in panic when his soldiers arrived.

Cao Xin, noting her beauty and figure, simply asked if she wished to leave with him. Feng Juan nodded eagerly.

Thus another beauty joined Lord Cao’s household.

Nor was this woman an obscure figure in history. Cao Pi, in both his “Discussions” and “Annals of the Nine Provinces,” mentions Feng Juan as the daughter of Feng Fang, praising her peerless beauty. The notorious philanderer Cao Pi often lamented her untimely death.

Cao Xin himself was glad, after the capture of Shouchun, that he had sought out beauties in Yuan Shu’s harem first, rescuing such a rare treasure as Juan. Had he followed his elder brother’s advice and gone looking for some worthless rock at the front, he would have missed out on such delightful company.

“General, I had the palace tailor make you a new robe. Would you like to try it on?” Feng Juan asked with a bright smile, holding up a suit of dark gold silk.

“It’s excellent, you’re very thoughtful, Juan.” Cao Xin ran his hand over the smooth fabric, finding it comfortable to the touch, and affectionately pinched her cheek.

She shyly bowed her head, but pressed her cheek into his palm with gentle affection.

Cao Xin laughed, “Juan, do you have any family left? If any among them wish to win merit on the battlefield, serve as officials, or make money in trade, I can make all the necessary arrangements.”

“Thank you, General!”

Feng Juan brightened, and in her gentle Wu dialect, began to recount the affairs of the Feng family in Yangzhou.

She had three elder brothers, two younger siblings, and a host of cousins and uncles—some in Yuan Shu’s service, others under Yuan Shao, and some serving Liu Biao in Jingzhou.

As he listened, Cao Xin suddenly understood why his elder brother relished the role of “Cao the Bandit.”

In times of peace, beauties might be found in brothels or the entertainment world. In times of chaos, however, the most desirable women were monopolized by the warlords. Defeat a warlord, take his wives and concubines, and one could gather beauties without scouring the land—a simple, efficient approach that spared both the people and the treasury.

Moreover, these women often came from prominent families, bringing with them political, intellectual, and financial resources—a triple boon.

For instance, Zou Liniang’s family was a notable clan in Chang’an, said to descend from Zou Yan the philosopher, and Gan Yuniang’s family was likewise influential in Xiao Pei. After both women joined Cao Xin’s household, their families gravitated toward his side—joining his army, business ventures, or serving as minor officials in Nanyang, all lending their talents to his cause.

The Feng family was an even greater clan in Huainan, more illustrious than the Gans or the Zhous. Yuan Shu’s desire to make Feng Juan empress was no doubt a bid for the Fengs’ support, but their most talented sons—Feng Li, Feng Fu, Feng Kai, and Feng Xi—had all taken office in Hebei or Jingzhou, leaving only mediocrities by Yuan Shu’s side.

“General, my eldest brother once served as magistrate of Chengde County and is quite capable. Could you help him win promotion?” Feng Juan asked, clinging to his arm.

“Haha, of course. I’ll recommend him for the magistracy of Chengde, and in a few years perhaps make him an assistant prefect or governor. How about that?” Cao Xin replied, stroking the jade comb in her hair.

“Thank you, General. You are far too good to me!” Feng Juan exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms, clinging to his waist and pouting playfully, her soft figure making his heart stir.

Cao Xin curled his lips in amusement. This woman was certainly beautiful, but her youth and naivety were plain to see. Had she been cleverer, she would not have been so easily duped and nearly lost her life in the palace. He wondered whether, once in Xuchang, she would be able to hold her own against the likes of Zou Liniang.

Unable to resist her coquettish antics, he scooped her up and teased her for a while.

“General, the Chancellor requests your company for breakfast,” a maid called softly from outside the door.

“Tell him I’m at the training ground and will come shortly.”

“Yes, General,” the maid replied, her cheeks flushed as she withdrew.

——