I dressed as Liu Xie, Emperor Xian of the Han Dynasty, on the day I arrived at the ruins of Luoyang.
The Luoyang in front of us is not the imperial capital, but a cemetery. The ruins of broken walls gnaw at the sky, and weeds emerge from the cracks in the jade steps. What comes in the wind is not the bells and cauldrons, but the whimpering of hungry people and the neighing of crows. The pages of history books turned coldly in my mind: Soon, Cao Cao's soldiers and horses would "welcome" me to Xuchang, stamped with the Emperor's Seal, and start my thirty-year life as a prisoner in the name of honor.
But, that's not my script.
Since fate has allowed me to wake up at this moment, I have to carve a way out of this desperate starting point. Although the dragon robe is torn, he is still the emperor; although the capital city is in ruins, he is still Luoyang, where the hearts of the world are tied. I weaved a web with my remaining righteousness, turning the loyalty of loyal ministers, the desire for survival of the refugees, and even the fragile suspicions among the warlords into usable threads. Food, hearts, swords, everything must be calculated carefully.
What I am rebuilding is not just a palace, but a signal, a beacon that lets the world know that "the Han Dynasty is not dead, and the emperor can still do something good."
So, the scouts came to report that Cao Mengde's banner was already in sight. In the past, he would see a confused young man waiting to be slaughtered; today, he would face an emperor who had regained his footing on the ruins.
In his chess game, "Fengtianzi" is the first move.
On my chessboard, Luoyang has already placed its first live chess piece.
It's time to re-examine the general trend of the world.
