Reborn In The Three Kingdoms-Chapter 993 - Capítulo 993: 943. Imposing The Hengyuan Letter

Capítulo 993: 943. Imposing The Hengyuan Letter
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The whispers rippled across the hall, growing intentionally loud enough for everyone, including the Hengyuan envoys, to hear. Emperor Xian’s eyes closed briefly. He knew this game. He knew this provocation. Fa Zheng and his faction wanted him to lose control.
To erupt in anger before Zhuge Liang and Lu Xun. To make himself look small, emotional, unfit for a throne he barely held.
He willed himself to remain still.
He had long grown accustomed to swallowing the humiliation burning at the back of his throat.
Zhuge Liang and Lu Xun heard every word of the murmuring officials. But neither reacted. Neither shifted. Neither so much as blinked.
For them, this was simply another stage on which a carefully crafted performance unfolded, a theater constructed by the Han ministers, but one that just so happened to align perfectly with Hengyuan’s own interests. So they allowed the scene to play out, silent, composed, letting every insult directed at Emperor Xian linger like smoke in the air.
Slowly, Emperor Xian rose from his throne.
“If Emperor Hongyi has issued his response,” he said, dragging stability back into his voice, “then let me hear it.”
Lu Xun bowed slightly and passed the scroll to Zhuge Liang.
Zhuge Liang lifted the scroll, broke the seal, and let it unfurl with a smooth, practiced motion. The silk glimmered under the hall’s lantern light, gold threads glinting like strands of sunlight woven into the fabric.
He inhaled softly, a quiet breath, a steadying breath, and then he began to read.
His voice filled the hall, calm and resonant, carrying a refined yet unmistakable authority. And beneath that authority, a subtle arrogance, like a man reading the decrees of heaven itself.
“In the name of Heaven and by the Mandate vested in me, I, Emperor Hongyi of the Hengyuan Dynasty, respond to the proposal presented by Emperor Xian of Han.”
Every official in the hall straightened.
Even the murmuring ceased.
Zhuge Liang continued, his tone smooth, almost gentle, yet each word cut deeper than a blade.
“It brings me great joy to learn that Emperor Xian sincerely wishes for a lasting marriage alliance. To hear that the Han court values this bond enough to offer its resources, whether treasury or natural wealth, is a gesture that speaks volumes of its earnestness.”
Gasps flared through the hall.
Emperor Xian’s eyes snapped wide.
Because this was not what he had written. Not what he intended. Not what he have read.
“…offers its resources?”
“…whether treasury or natural wealth?”
“…sincerely wishes?”
“…earnestness?”
No. No, those were not the original letter. Those were not his intentions at all.
He had to bow himself and act like he have asked for an alliance, yes, but never for subservience. Never with such humiliating terms. Never with an offer that suggested Han was groveling.
A faint tremor ran down his arms.
Zhuge Liang, unchanged, continued reading.
“Furthermore, Emperor Xian’s willingness to heed the counsel of the Hengyuan court, whatever the needs may be, is proof of his sincerity in binding the Han to the carriage of Hengyuan.”
A shock rippled across the hall like a physical force.
Officials gasped. Some stiffened. Others blinked in disbelief.
And Emperor Xian…
…felt the room tilt.
Whatever the needs may be. Willingness to heed the counsel of Hengyuan. Binding the Han to the carriage of Hengyuan.
These were not the words of a friendly alliance.
These were the words of vassalage. Of submission. Of surrender.
He would go fight with his teeth and nailsif the original letter was filled with such language. He would never permitted such degradation.
His chest tightened.
Fa Zheng. Zhang Song. Meng Da.
They had fooled him by making another proposal.
They had sharpened its humiliation. They had turned it into an offering of servitude. And now Lie Fan’s response reflected exactly that.
They had planned this.
They had deliberately orchestrated his disgrace.
Across the hall, Fa Zheng’s lips curved in a tiny smirk.
Zhang Song hid a smile behind his sleeve.
Meng Da’s shoulders shook with poorly suppressed amusement.
They enjoyed watching the emperor’s face slowly crumble.
They enjoyed seeing him drown.
Zhuge Liang’s voice wove through the hall like silk soaked in poison.
“As such heartfelt sincerity deserves recognition, I shall accept Emperor Xian’s proposal with great pleasure. The marriage alliance shall proceed, and in honor of Han’s loyal devotion, Hengyuan will ensure this bond strengthens peace and unity throughout the realm.”
Zhuge Liang lowered the scroll slightly, allowing the words to hang in the air.
It felt as though the hall itself held its breath.
Emperor Xian remained frozen where he stood, his face pale, his mind reeling. His chest rose and fell in a slow, painful rhythm.
He felt as though he were carved from ice.
And beneath the ice, cracks forming.
Zhuge Liang lifted his gaze, eyes calm, unreadable.
He had read every word with flawless neutrality.
Not a single syllable exaggerated. Not a single hint of mockery. Not even a glance toward Fa Zheng’s faction.
Just the professional delivery of an imperial decree.
Lu Xun remained perfectly still beside him, his expression one of dignified respect, but his eyes missed nothing.
He saw every shift in Emperor Xian’s breathing.
He saw the flicker of pain in the emperor’s gaze.
He saw the triumphant glints in the eyes of the three schemers below.
This hall was a battlefield, and the quiet tension was a warcry.
Zhuge Liang continued reading the closing passage.
“May the bond between Hengyuan and Han be one of harmony, unity, and loyalty.
May the Princess of Han find a prosperous future within Hengyuan’s embrace.
This is my decree.
—Emperor Hongyi.”
Silence descended.
A silence so absolute it felt like the world had stopped.
Zhuge Liang rolled the scroll closed with a soft rustle. He exhaled quietly, then looked up toward the throne with impeccable diplomacy.
“The words of His Majesty Emperor Hongyi have been delivered.”
Those words struck Emperor Xian harder than any blow.
He swayed, almost imperceptibly, then steadied himself by gripping the armrest again.
Harmony.
Unity.
Loyalty.
They were beautiful words when spoken between equals.
But when spoken from power to weakness…
…they were chains.
Emperor Xian’s daughter, his only daughter, was being given away not as a bridge of peace, but as an anchor. A tether. A bond meant to bind the remnants of Han to the future of Hengyuan.
He opened his mouth.
No sound came out.
Fa Zheng stepped forward smoothly, bowing toward the envoys with exaggerated enthusiasm.
“What a magnificent decree!” he said loudly. “Truly, Emperor Hongyi’s generosity blesses Han. We must all rejoice!”
Zhang Song added, “Indeed! With such strength behind us, Han will surely prosper in the years to come.”
Meng Da clasped his hands behind his back, leaning toward the other ministers.
“To think Emperor Xian’s sincerity moved Emperor Hongyi so deeply… Truly, His Majesty’s vision knows no bounds.”
The room erupted in murmurs again.
“Emperor Hongyi is truly powerful…”
“Our court is fortunate…”
“We must align ourselves properly…”
“His Majesty should be grateful…”
“A wise decision, to follow Hengyuan’s lead…”
Emperor Xian’s jaw trembled.
Grateful?
Fortunate?
Wise?
They were praising Lie Fan. They were praising Hengyuan. But not him, never him.
He forced himself to draw breath, slow, careful, and deliberate.
“Envoys…” he finally managed, voice hoarse. “The Han… acknowledges the decree of Emperor Hongyi.”
The words tasted like ashes.
He had no choice but to accept.
No power to resist.
No authority to deny.
The Han had already been bound before he ever saw the rope.
Zhuge Liang bowed.
“Then we shall your acceptance to Emperor Hongyi.”
Lu Xun followed suit.
“We thank Your Majesty for receiving us with grace.”
Grace. What grace was left?
The officials continued murmuring, some praising, others gossiping, many smirking at Emperor Xian’s discomfort.
And the emperor…
…looked down at his hands.
They trembled.
Not visibly. Not obviously. But enough that he felt it.
He swallowed.
He did not look at Fa Zheng. He did not look at Zhang Song. He did not look at Meng Da.
If he did, he feared he would break.
Instead, he looked at Zhuge Liang and Lu Xun, two men who served a ruler who commanded loyalty effortlessly, a ruler who inspired brilliance, a ruler whose envoys stood like unshakable pillars.
Emperor Xian felt smaller than he had in years.
His voice was barely audible when he finally spoke:
“…The court will arrange rest for the envoys. There will be a formal banquet prepared in the evening.”
Zhuge Liang bowed gracefully.
“We accept Your Majesty’s hospitality.”
Lu Xun mirrored him.
“We shall await the court’s summons.”
With that, the two envoys stepped back, preparing to leave the hall.
The doors creaked open behind them.
Light spilled into the chamber.
And as Zhuge Liang and Lu Xun turned to walk out, their figures casting long shadows across the polished floor…
Emperor Xian felt his last fragments of authority drifting away like dust in sunlight. And the marriage alliance, dressed in silk and ceremony, was nothing more than a seal on Han’s quiet submission.
The great doors of the hall closed behind Zhuge Liang and Lu Xun with a heavy thud that echoed across the chamber like the final note of a funeral drum. Their shadows disappeared into the sunlight beyond, leaving behind a silence that felt strangely naked now that their calm gravity was gone.
For a moment, Emperor Xian simply stood there.
Still. Cold. Breathing through air that suddenly felt too thick to swallow.
The murmurs from the court had died down, but the aftertaste of their words still lingered in the hall like smoke after a fire, clinging to the pillars, clustering in the corners, thickening the very air around him.
He opened his eyes.
“Court is dismissed,” he said quietly.
Some of the ministers bowed. Some muttered. A few barely glanced his way. And many looked instead toward the three towering shadows standing several steps in front of the throne, Fa Zheng, Zhang Song, and Meng Da.
The three men didn’t bow deeply. They didn’t rush to follow the emperor’s instruction.
Instead, the moment his voice reached the edges of the hall, they moved.
Fa Zheng lifted one hand in a lazy, almost bored gesture, nothing more than a flick of his fingers.
And suddenly, the reaction in the hall changed.
The officials straightened. Their shuffling steps quickened. Their whispers stopped as if someone had placed a knife at each of their throats. The courtiers bowed, to the three, and began filing out like obedient cattle.
Not a single one waited for Emperor Xian’s second word.
Not a single one looked at him with respect.
Not a single one acknowledged him as the Son of Heaven.
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He couldn’t afford to show how deeply it cut.
And then, with a voice he forced into calm, he added.
“Fa Zheng. Zhang Song. Meng Da. Stay.”
That, at least, gave the crowd pause, brief, uncertain, but the three men reacted faster. Fa Zheng stepped forward immediately, lips pulled in that delicate half smile that always seemed carved just to mock the world. “We hear and obey, Your Majesty,” he said, tone smooth, casual, as if he was humoring a child rather than addressing an emperor.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty
Age: 35 (202 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 2325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 966 (+20)
VIT: 623 (+20)
AGI: 623 (+10)
INT: 667
CHR: 98
WIS: 549
WILL: 432
ATR Points: 0
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