Thirty Years at the End of the Han Dynasty

“I hardly deserve to be called a gentleman. My surname is Xu, my given name Fu, and my courtesy name Yuanzhi. I studied under Master Shuijing.” “Autumn winds rise, white clouds fly; grasses and trees wither and yellow, and geese return south. Xu is here and has been waiting for you. Please come aboard, my lord.” “Promise me one last thing. After I am gone, Marquis Wen, do not throw your life away! Otherwise, my father-in-law and I will never rest in peace, even in the afterlife!!” “...I don't want my best brother to die unknown. I want the name Hu Che'er to leave a lasting mark on history!” “Zhu Jun! I've disliked you for ages. Not one of you is getting away today! You're all staying right here!” “Diao Chan, the game is over. I know my adoptive father doesn't want to cause any more bloodshed. Leave now. For old times' sake, I won't hurt you, that man's wife, or Zhu Jun and the others... But that man must die!” “The Seven Probes Serpent Spear... Are you Tong Yuan?!” “The greatest divine general of our age truly lives up to his reputation. Even in my youth, I would have had only a three-in-ten chance of beating you.” “My worthy nephew is right. Let the people of the Central Plains fight over their chaos. At this rate, they won't settle anything for a century or more! And if the worst comes to pass, we'll sail overseas, seize Zhuya Prefecture, and declare ourselves emperors!” “I'm sorry, Imperial Uncle... So many people have died for me. I... have to strike this blow myself!” “If our eyes knew no parting sorrow, who would believe that people could turn gray with grief? You... are Diao Chan?” “The provinces of Yong and Liang... I, Cao, have spent nearly ten years plotting to take them. I never thought it would all come to nothing...”