Chapter Forty-Eight: Captives of the Yellow Turban-Great Scholars of the Three Kingdoms(A 24-Karat Purely Handsome Raven)

After the battle ended, the entire battlefield was thick with the stench of gunpowder. The acrid smell even masked what should have been a pervasive scent of blood, lending the field an extra air of brutality and grimness. Yet now, this atmosphere was completely shattered by a group of men loudly shouting “Strong and steadfast.” Xu Kang immediately recognized the loudest among them, and his lips involuntarily twitched.

“Damn it, it’s Niu Sheng again—I knew it had to be him!” Although he had caught the culprit responsible for ruining the mood, Xu Kang was powerless to do anything, for from any perspective, Niu Sheng had done nothing wrong. The man was simply shouting “steadfast”—what fault could there be in that? If blame must be laid, it could only be on the immense subtlety of the language itself.

Thanks to Niu Sheng’s antics, even the discomfort Xu Kang had felt from the earlier battle was swept away in an instant. Surveying the wounded and the corpses strewn across the ground, Xu Kang first furrowed his brow, then a sense of reflection flashed across his face. He realized that, when death becomes a familiar sight, a person truly does grow numb.

Back then, in the mansion of He Jin, he had been furious witnessing He Jin slaughter the innocent. When Zhao Hong killed those who had bullied him right outside his own door, the overwhelming smell of blood had turned his stomach. When he led his troops to fight the Yellow Turbans at the border of Changshe County, the cruelty of the battlefield had made him pale, nearly retching. Yet when he set fire to Peng Tuo’s Yellow Turban encampment with his strategy, he could already ride through the camp, spear in hand, galloping amidst the aroma of roasted meat, trampling the enemy’s lines.

Now, with the battlefield scattered with wounded and corpses, all manners of screams and wails reached his ears, yet they only made him feel slightly uneasy. Noticing this change in himself, Xu Kang wasn’t sure if it meant he had grown or simply become cold-hearted. One thing, however, he was certain of: he had begun to adapt to this world and possessed the potential to rise above others.

“The righteous do not manage wealth, the merciful do not command troops. A general’s success is built upon countless bones—such is chaos, such is reality.” He closed his eyes, gently wiped the corner of his eye, then uttered a phrase he once thought childish. “It’s not me who’s wrong—it’s this world!”

After these words, when he opened his eyes again, all hesitation and uncertainty were gone from his gaze. “Send word: Clean up the battlefield. Let the surrendered Yellow Turbans dig pits and bury the corpses of their comrades. Those unable to stand or walk, treat them as corpses as well!”

“As you command!” With Xu Kang’s order, his soldiers immediately raised their weapons and began to patrol the battlefield, finishing off the moaning Yellow Turbans on the ground, ensuring their deaths. At the same time, they barked harsh orders at the surrendered Yellow Turbans, telling them to quickly dig graves and bury the dead. Anyone who moved too slowly was beaten without mercy.

Faced with the rough soldiers, the Yellow Turbans dared not resist, and dug vigorously, fearing a soldier might kill them and leave them to be buried themselves. Soon, the battlefield was cleaned, the once flat ground now covered with mounds of earth—under each mound lay several, or even dozens, of Yellow Turbans in eternal repose.

Perhaps having buried their own friends and family, or perhaps fearing for their own fate, many of the captive Yellow Turbans wiped away tears and began to sob softly. Seeing this, Xu Kang sighed inwardly and ordered the captives to be gathered for a speech.

“The duty of a farmer is to till the fields; the duty of a soldier is to protect the country. The moment you picked up a weapon, it meant someday you might die on the battlefield—that is the fate of a soldier… No, the fate of a warrior!” Hearing this, both the Yellow Turban captives and the Han soldiers fell silent and stood at attention, their eyes fixed on Xu Kang.

Under their gaze, Xu Kang slowly raised his hand and pointed at the grieving captives. “You were once farmers, but now you are Yellow Turban rebels. When you wielded your hoes as weapons to revolt, you should have expected this day. When a man makes a mistake, he must pay the price—you know this well!”

Upon these words, the surrounding Han soldiers raised their weapons and encircled the captives. Clearly, a single order from Xu Kang would turn them into corpses. The captives understood this, and instantly dropped to their knees, crying and begging for mercy.

“General, spare us!”

“Don’t kill us, please, General!”

“Please let us go, General, please…” Amidst the chorus of pleading, Xu Kang’s mind flashed back to scenes he had witnessed in He Jin’s grand mansion. He frowned instinctively and shouted angrily at the captives.

“Enough! Be silent—all who cry again will be killed!” No sooner had he spoken than the Han soldiers encircling the captives shouted as one.

“Kill!”

“Kill!” Faced with such a scene, the previously wailing captives became as silent as if someone had pressed pause—utterly still.

Seeing them quiet, Xu Kang nodded and addressed them once more. “Remember this: When a man errs, he must pay the price. If you want me to spare you, that’s fine—but you must prove your value to me with action.”

He suddenly raised his hand and pointed westward. “There are still tens of thousands of Yellow Turban rebels camped over there—your former comrades and brothers. I give you one day; go and persuade them to surrender to me. If you succeed, I will forgive your rebellion!”

His words brought visible change to the faces of many captives, yet none spoke. Observing their hesitation, Xu Kang understood at once what worried them. He produced his official seal, raised it high, and spoke loudly for all to hear.

“I am Xu Kang, Magistrate of Changshe County in Yingchuan. Today, I swear in the name of my ancestors: Any who persuade former Yellow Turbans to surrender, their past offenses will be forgiven. Any who follow me against the Yellow Turbans, besides receiving military rations, shall be rewarded for every battle—one enemy slain earns a hundred coins, ten enemies slain earns a thousand coins. If I break this oath, let man and heaven abandon me!”

In this era, an oath, especially one sworn by the ancestors, was no trivial matter—it was as binding as a contract in later generations. To break it would bring dire consequences.

Thus, after Xu Kang had sworn, everyone present—captives and Han soldiers alike—showed shock. Then, joy spread across their faces; the Han soldiers were soon cupping their fists and shouting.

“We pledge to follow the General against the Yellow Turbans!”

“We pledge to follow the General against the Yellow Turbans!” For a moment, spirits soared—nearly everyone shouted their vow to campaign against the Yellow Turbans.

Even those captives who had looked so mournful before were now excited, their expressions matching those of the Han soldiers around them. Witnessing this, Xu Kang suddenly conceived an even bolder plan.