My name is Jun Mowu.
The tyrant stripped me of my real name and stole my fortune.
Three years ago, I tried to counsel the king with a song called "Jun Mowu," but was driven from the palace and sentenced to never set foot in the capital again.
Dogged by misfortune, I dodged open attacks and hidden arrows along the way. I failed to protect the orphan of a loyal minister and could not hold the eight-thousand-mile frontier defenses. Forced to raise troops to protect myself, I became a regional warlord.
Three years later, the Xijue army marched on the city, surrounding the capital.
Emperor Hong ordered the eighteen regional lords to come to the capital and rescue the emperor, but not a single one obeyed. I gave a cold laugh, led a fleet of one hundred thousand north alone, and supported the young emperor, defended the land, and sheltered the refugees.
The Xijue army retreated, and the people rallied to my side.
Yet when peace finally came to the land, would "Cao Cao" really die rather than ascend the throne?
