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Lie Fan knew that the Ma Clan, especially Ma Chao, would notice. Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, once bound to Liu Bei with an oath of brotherhood, now stood among Lie Fan's men. It sent a message that no envoy could deliver as effectively. It showed power, but also loyalty. That Lie Fan could not only inspire men to follow him, but men of conviction, legacy, and principle.
"I apologize for my lateness," Lie Fan said, stepping forward with a faint smile.
Zhang Liao, Zhao Yun, Wen Pin, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei, immediately cupped their hands in salute and bowed deeply, their voices unified. "It is our duty to wait upon our Lord."
Ma Chao's group followed suit with respectful nods, Ma Chao himself replying evenly, "We have only just arrived. No apology is needed, Lord Lie Fan."
Lie Fan offered a courteous nod. "Then let us begin."
He turned, surveying the circle. "This is not a contest, nor a tournament. It is an exchange. A meeting of strength and spirit, to learn from one another, to grow and understand. Who among us would like to begin?"
There was a beat of silence, until a soft voice rose with unexpected resolve.
"I will go first."
Ma Yunlu stepped forward, her expression composed but burning with inner fire.
There was a startled pause. Her brothers and cousin turned to her in surprise.
Ma Xiu opened his mouth, only to glance at Ma Chao, who already wore a conflicted expression.
"Yunlu—" Ma Chao's brow furrowed.
"I'm not a child, elder brother," she said, her voice steady. "I've fought in battles just as you have. If this is an exchange, then let me exchange."
Ma Chao hesitated, his protective instincts warring with his respect for her skill.
Lie Fan intervened gently. His eyes settling on Ma Chao. "Is this acceptable to you, Lord Ma Chao?"
She stood defiant, unmoved, and something in her stance told everyone that no argument would move her.
Lie Fan continued, "If so, I will ensure that she is matched with care. No harm will come to her in this exchange, I promise it."
Ma Chao looked to his sister, who gave him a short nod. He exhaled, shoulders easing only slightly, and bowed his head to Lie Fan. "Then I place her safety in your hands, Lord Lie Fan."
With a faint smile, Lie Fan turned to Zhao Yun. "Zilong, will you accept this honor?"
Zhao Yun stepped forward with calm grace, his silver armor reflecting the sun. He bowed slightly toward Ma Yunlu. "It would be my pleasure to face you, Lady Ma Yunlu."
Ma Yunlu nodded sharply. "Let us begin, then."
The crowd gave them space, forming a loose circle around the training ground. There was no ceremony, no drumbeat, just the quiet anticipation of warriors watching two talents meet.
Ma Yunlu rolled her shoulders, her stance light but ready. "I've heard of you, Zhao Yun. The 'Dragon of Changshan.'"
Zhao Yun smiled faintly. "And I've heard of you, Lady Ma Yunlu. The 'Tigress of Liangzhou.'"
She smirked. "Good. Then you know I won't go easy on you."
"I would expect nothing less."
Ma Yunlu moved first, light on her feet, a blur of crimson and steel as she lashed forward with the speed of a striking falcon. Her blade gleamed, dancing through the air in precise arcs.
Zhao Yun deflected each strike with measured grace, his spear moving with minimal effort but perfect efficiency. He did not overpower, he guided, redirected, gently tested.
To the casual eye, it was sparring. To the trained warrior, it was dialogue. A conversation in steel.
Ma Yunlu pressed harder, feinting left, then spinning right, trying to get behind him, but Zhao Yun stepped into her move, pivoting and lightly tapping her shoulder with the shaft of his spear.
"Point," he said quietly, but not unkindly.
She bit her lip, then nodded. "Again."
This time, she didn't hold back.
For several exchanges, she pushed herself to her limit, her form elegant, flowing, precise, refined by years of training and sheer will. Zhao Yun responded with an easy, unflinching rhythm, like a river diverting rocks, never stopping her, but never letting her land a clean hit either.
Finally, Ma Yunlu leapt, aiming a downward slash with all her weight behind it.
Zhao Yun caught her wrist mid-air, twisted gently, and they both landed in a controlled tumble. He released her immediately, stepping back with a respectful bow.
Ma Yunlu lay still for a moment, catching her breath.
Then she sat up, looked at him, and for the first time that day, smiled, genuine, appreciative.
"You're good," she said simply.
Zhao Yun offered a slight grin. "So are you."
Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them.
Lie Fan watched closely, hiding his satisfaction. A seed, he thought. Perhaps even a spark.
Ma Chao folded his arms, but there was no scowl on his face. Just silent acknowledgment.
Zhang Fei snorted with amusement. "She fights fiercer than half the men I've known."
Guan Yu nodded. "And with more precision."
Lie Fan raised his voice. "A fine exchange. Who will follow?"
After Ma Yunlu and Zhao Yun's duel, the atmosphere loosened. The martial exchange became more spirited, with warriors stepping forward to test their skills against one another.
Ma Tie and Ma Xiu faced Wen Pin together after Wen Pin challenged the both of them, their bout ending in a draw after a fierce exchange of spear techniques, strength, speed, and agility.
Ma Dai dueled Zhang Liao in a rapid dance of footwork and clever feints, each trying to outwit and outstrength each other. Ma Dai lose clean in the end but gained valuable insight from the older general's tactics.
Pang De, the stoic warrior, chose to face Guan Yu, a matchup that drew murmurs of anticipation. The two titans clashed with brutal efficiency, their movements honed by years of battlefield experience. In the end, Guan Yu emerged victorious, but not without acknowledging Pang De's skill.
"You fight like a man with nothing to lose," Guan Yu remarked.
Pang De smirked. "Isn't that the best way to fight?"
Finally, it was Ma Chao's turn.
All eyes turned to him, waiting to see who he would choose.
To everyone's surprise, he looked at Zhang Fei.
"General Zhang Fei," Ma Chao said, his voice calm. "Would you honor me with a match?"
Zhang Fei, who had been leaning against a weapon rack with his arms crossed, let out a booming laugh. "Ha! Finally, someone with sense!"
He grabbed a practice spear and strode onto the field.
The two warriors circled each other, the air between them crackling with tension.
Then, without warning, they lunged.
Their duel was nothing like the others. This was not an exchange of techniques, this was a storm. Blows came faster than the eye could follow, each strike carrying the weight of a lifetime of battle. The sand kicked up around them, the sound of clashing wood and steel echoing like thunder.
Lie Fan watched intently. This was more than just a spar. This was a test, test of pride, of strength, and of resolve.
In the end, neither emerged as the clear victor. Both men were breathing heavily, their weapons locked in a stalemate.
Zhang Fei grinned. "Not bad, kid."
Ma Chao smirked. "Likewise, old man."
The tension broke, and the onlookers erupted into laughter and applause. At this time the sun had risen higher now, casting warm light over the yard.
Lie Fan stepped forward again, his expression warm but commanding. "You have all honored us with your skill and spirit today. Let this day be remembered not as a contest, but as a bond. A bridge."
A round of nods, bows, and quiet acknowledgments followed. The formal exchange was over, but something more valuable had been forged, respect, understanding, and the first bricks of a budding alliance.
As the others began to disperse, Lie Fan approached Ma Chao, whose brow was still slick with sweat from his match with Zhang Fei.
*You've not lost your edge, Lord Ma Chao," Lie Fan said with a smirk, offering a water flask.
Ma Chao accepted it with a grateful grunt, tipping it back before letting out a soft sigh. "While you may think so Lord Lie Fan, but General Zhang Fei is a beast of his own level. I think I'll feel that last blow in my shoulder for a week."
The two shared a low chuckle, and what began as polite remarks quickly warmed into easy conversation. They talked of everything and nothing, of battles fought and avoided, of court gossip and the folly of officials, of favorite horses and the quality of saddle leather.
Ma Chao gestured to the others, and soon Ma Tie, Ma Xiu, Ma Dai, and Pang De joined them, each one easing into the fold as if they had always been part of the same circle.
Lie Fan welcomed them with a nod. "Come, don't just hover. We're not hatching strategies, just talking like men who know war and life in equal measure."
Yet not all were drawn to the circle.
Ma Yunlu, who had watched the martial exchanges with keen eyes, slowly walked away from the gathering. Her footsteps were light but deliberate, the hem of her red training robe fluttering faintly as she wandered deeper into the courtyard.
The training yard sprawled like a small garrison of its own, rows of practice dummies, finely maintained weapons racks, carved archery targets, reinforced sparring circles. Everything was well maintained, polished, efficient.
There were even cooling water troughs and shaded rest areas. Compared to the rougher, weather worn field in Wuwei, this was a palace of discipline and preparation.
Her fingertips brushed along a polished training spear hanging on the rack. The metal was newer than anything she'd trained with. Her eyes softened slightly.
"Father would have loved this place," she thought. Everything sharp and in its place. No rust, no half broken shafts tied with rope. And no compromises.
The thought turned bittersweet. She had loved Wuwei, but she had given it up, along with the familiar training routines, her friends, and the mountains of her home. Survival demanded it.
A respectful voice broke through her thoughts.
"Lady Ma Yunlu."
She turned, hand still lightly resting on the training spear.
There he stood, Zhao Yun.
His silver armor still gleamed despite the morning's exertions, his hair tied back, eyes calm and respectful, a warm smile on his face.
"General Zhao Yun," she said evenly, recognizing him, though not outwardly impressed. She had grown up among strikingly handsome men, her brothers were nothing short of intimidatingly handsome warriors. No, it wasn't his face that caught her attention.
It was his presence. That centered, quiet strength. And more than that, his skill. She had felt it earlier, the difference. "He fights like Eldest Brother... no, perhaps even better."
Zhao Yun bowed slightly, his voice as steady as ever. "If you have time, Lady Yunlu, would you allow me to offer a tour of the grounds? Perhaps try some of the training equipment yourself? I've visited here often under Lord Lie Fan's permission. He intends this place to become a training haven for his elite guards."
Ma Yunlu's eyes lit up, the earlier melancholy swept aside like leaves in a strong wind.
"Really? You mean it?"
Zhao Yun blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the spark of excitement in her expression.
"I… yes. Of course. It's not a secret area, and certainly not restricted to trusted guests."
She beamed, her earlier discipline melting into a more youthful enthusiasm. "Then let's go!"
Before Zhao Yun could respond properly, she took his hand without a second thought, tugging him forward toward a set of reinforced training dummies near the far wall. He followed, stunned but bemused, coughing into his free hand with mild embarrassment. The hand she held was strong, calloused, but she seemed utterly unaware of the impropriety, driven only by genuine eagerness.
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Name: Lie Fan
Title: Overlord Of The Central Plains
Age: 34 (201 AD)
Level: 16
Next Level: 462,000
Renown: 1325
Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)
SP: 1,121,700
ATTRIBUTE POINTS
STR: 951 (+20)
VIT: 613 (+20)
AGI: 598 (+10)
INT: 617
CHR: 96
WIS: 519
WILL: 407
ATR Points: 0