Reborn In The Three Kingdoms - Chapter 767

Chapter 767: 733. Palace Finished
Lie Fan raised his own cup in somewhat mock acknowledgment to Zhen Yi’s words, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Jia Xu leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Shall I have someone ‘assist’ him to his quarters, my lord? Before he embarrasses himself and you further, my lord?”

Lie Fan’s lips twitched. “Not yet. Let him enjoy his triumph a little longer.”

As the night deepened, the feast grew louder, the wine flowed freely, and Zhen Yi’s retainers, equally drunk, began boasting of their clan’s influence, of how this marriage would surely make the Zhen Clan indispensable to Lie Fan’s reign.

Lie Fan let them talk. “Let them believe what they want.”

When the last toast had been offered and the last course served, Zhen Yi rose, swaying slightly from drink, and offered his farewell.

Zhen Yi, swaying slightly, clasped Lie Fan’s arm in a show of false camaraderie.

“My lord, my daughter is in your care now. Treat her well, eh?”

Lie Fan’s grip tightened just enough to make Zhen Yi blink. “Of course. She is part of my household now. No one will harm her.”

The underlying threat was clear, ‘not even you.’

Zhen Yi, too drunk or too arrogant to notice, simply laughed and stumbled toward his horse, his retainers scrambling to keep him upright.

Lie Fan saw him with the practiced courtesy of a statesman, watching as Zhen Yi was helped to mount his horse and rode off into the deepening dusk alongside the Zhen Clan’s procession.

After that, Lie Fan returned to his residence, and as the lanterns were lit and the sounds of the city softened into the night, Lie Fan finally allowed himself a long breath.

Meanwhile, in the eastern wing of the residence, Zhen Ji sat in her new quarters, the sounds of the banquet distant echoes. The room was spacious, tastefully furnished, a far cry from the gilded cage of her father’s estate.

A soft knock at the door.

“Enter,” she called.

Ying Yue stepped inside, carrying a tray of tea. “I thought you might like something to settle your nerves.”

Zhen Ji accepted the cup gratefully. “Thank you, my lady.”

Ying Yue smiled. “No need for formal titles between us. We are sisters now.”

Diao Chan’s voice floated in from the hallway. “Speak for yourself, Sister Yue. I still want to be called ‘Goddess of Beauty.'”

Cai Wenji sighed, following her in. “Ignore her, Sister Zhen. She’s been like this all day.”

Lu Lingqi, leaning against the doorframe, smirked. “So. Ready for your new life here, Sistern Zhen?”

Zhen Ji looked around at these women, sharp, kind, formidable in their own ways, and for the first time in years, she felt something akin to hope.

“I think I am,” she said softly.

On the other hand, far from the Lie Clan residence, in the shadowed corridors of Xiapi, the Oriole agents were already at work, receiving Jia Xu’s order. A missive was sent. A name was circled. A plan is set in motion. Zhen Yi’s days as patriarch of the Zhen Clan were numbered.

After that, days slipped by slowly like water between cupped hands, unnoticed at first and then suddenly gone. In the blink of an eye, a month had passed, and with it came the turning of the year, from 200 AD to 201 AD, gracing the land with an older time.

The cold of early spring still lingered in the air, wrapping Xiapi in a thin mist each morning as the city awoke to the sounds of vendors, laborers, and soldiers preparing for the day. But within the walls of the Lie Clan residence, there was a different kind of quiet, the quiet of patience, of plots taking root in the dark.

In the guest quarters, the Ma Clan’s messenger, still lodged comfortably, continued to be fed a steady stream of carefully prepared lies.

Each day brought him new ‘reports’ about the gathering of grain, the shuffling of troops at the borders, and the ‘logistical difficulties’ faced by Lie Fan’s generals. Servants ‘accidentally’ let slip news about wagons of supplies and troop rotations, letting the messenger catch just enough to fill his reports back home with hope.

What the messenger didn’t know, what he couldn’t possibly know, was that the Ma Clan’s situation in Tianshui was slowly collapsing. Their rebellion, once a blaze of defiance, was flickering under the weight of relentless pressure from Cao Cao’s armies.

Ma Teng, desperate, had already sent several messengers eastward, hoping to reach Xiapi and plead for aid in person. But none made it past the deadly net cast by Cao Cao’s forces.

One by one, they were intercepted, interrogated, and executed, their bodies left to rot as warnings along the roads. And so, in Tianshui, Ma Teng and Ma Chao clung ever tighter to the fragile hope that Lie Fan’s armies in the east would soon march or all would be lost.

Meanwhile, in Xiapi, great change was stirring.

It was Liu Ye who brought the news to Lie Fan one crisp morning, bowing low before his lord as he sat reviewing scrolls in his study. “My lord,” Liu Ye said with a rare smile, “the palace is complete.”

Lie Fan paused, setting down his brush. For a moment, he simply let the words settle over him, feeling their weight. A palace. His palace. A symbol not just of power, but of permanence.

He rose without a word, calling for his cloak. The journey through the bustling streets was swift, soldiers and citizens alike parting before his retinue as they crossed Xiapi’s inner city toward the heart of its reborn power.

When they arrived, the palace rose before them like a vision from a dream. Broad gates of lacquered wood, their beams carved with dragons and phoenixes, stood flanked by high walls of white stone. Banners snapped in the chill breeze, bearing the sigil of the Lie Clan, and lanterns still hung from the completion feast the night before.

Before the gates, the full might of Lie Fan’s inner circle awaited him, Jia Xu, Xun You, Chen Qun, Liu Ye, Chen Gong, Lu Su, Sima Yi, Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu.

As one, they cupped their hands and bowed deeply. “Congratulations, my lord,” Jia Xu intoned. “Your house now has a roof worthy of its master.”

Lie Fan smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Enough bowing. Come, let us see what we have built.”

With Liu Ye leading the way, they passed through the great gates and into the courtyard. There, the winter sunlight danced on polished stone, the space broad enough to muster a company of soldiers or host a grand feast.

Liu Ye’s voice echoed as he described each part, the guest halls, the council chambers, the gardens carefully laid with plum and pine, and the library where scrolls from every corner of the empire would soon rest.

And then, at last, they came to the main hall.

The doors swung open with a heavy creak, revealing the vast chamber within. Pillars soared toward the ceiling, each carved with scenes of myth and legend. At the far end, raised upon a dais of seven steps, stood the throne.

For a long moment, Lie Fan simply looked at it.

Then, slowly, almost thoughtfully, he ascended the steps. As he reached the throne, his fingers brushed its armrest, feeling the smooth polish of wood and jade. He turned, seated himself, and let out a long, quiet breath.

From this seat, he would rule. From this seat, he would defy the old order and carve his name into the bones of history.

His gaze swept over his advisors. “It is almost time,” he said softly, but with iron beneath the words. “Prepare the announcement. I will no longer be merely a lord. The Han Dynasty has fallen, and I will lead a new Dynasty. Draft letters to the Sun Clan and Sheng Xian. Inform them that the time to reveal their allegiance draws near.”

The council exchanged glances, some smiling faintly, others merely nodding. They had known this day would come, but now, it was real.

As his advisors bowed in acknowledgment, their minds already racing with the tasks ahead, Lie Fan leaned back on his throne, a sense of quiet triumph settling over him.

The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but with his trusted advisors by his side and his ambition burning brightly, he felt ready to embrace the destiny he was forging, changing the history he knew as a whole with the founding of his dynasty.

As the last echoes of his council’s bows faded in the vast hall, Lie Fan slowly rose from the throne, his fingertips lingering for a heartbeat longer on the polished armrest before he turned away. The heavy doors of the main hall swung open once more, and the sharp scent of winter air swept into the chamber as he stepped out onto the palace steps.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon, setting Xiapi aglow in soft amber hues, lanterns flickering to life along the streets and courtyards. Soldiers at attention and servants bustling about lowered their heads respectfully as Lie Fan passed.

But his thoughts were already elsewhere, across the stone roads, beyond the gates, back to the quiet sanctuary of his residence.

The walk was unhurried, a measured pace that let his mind settle. He felt the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders, but also the strange lightness that came with resolve, like the deep breath taken before a plunge.

At the residence, the warm glow of the inner living room welcomed him, soft lamplight reflecting off silk hangings and polished wood. Without delay, Lie Fan summoned a servant and spoke quietly, “Call all off my wives and my concubine here.”

Moments later, Ying Yue arrived first, graceful and calm as always, followed closely by Diao Chan, her laughter soft even as she entered, eyes curious.

Cai Wenji came next, her long sleeves trailing like wisps of cloud, and then Lu Lingqi, striding in with the sure step of a woman used to command. Finally, Zhen Ji entered, composed and elegant, though her eyes flickered with an anxious curiosity.

They gathered around him in the warmth of the room, the hush of anticipation settling over them like a gentle snowfall.

Lie Fan let his gaze sweep across their faces, the women who had stood beside him through triumph and turmoil, each brilliant in her own way.

For a moment, he allowed himself to simply appreciate them, this small circle that knew him not as a warlord or a rising sovereign, but as the man behind the mantle. He folded his hands behind his back. “The palace is complete and preparations have begun,” he began softly. “Soon, I will make the declaration. The world will know me as Emperor.”

______________________________

Name: Lie Fan

Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains

Age: 33 (200 AD) -> 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