The Pit Digger · Wang Xuan

Two days later, at Han Fu's residence, he stared at the endless stream of urgent reports spread across his desk. Every one of them reported that Gongsun Zan was gathering troops and charging toward Jizhou from three directions. Han Fu's brows were tightly knitted, his face heavy with worry.

Before he could think of a countermeasure, the guards' report sounded from outside. The prominent families of the Jizhou faction within the city had arrived at Han Fu's residence one after another, as if they had arranged it beforehand.

They had only one purpose: to ask for advice!

Did Han Fu have any way to deal with Gongsun Zan's massed army bearing down on them?

Pressed repeatedly by the heads of the great families, Han Fu was sweating all over. He was so restless that he could neither sit nor stand. How could he possibly have a countermeasure in this situation? That was Gongsun Zan, the White Horse General, whose White Horse Yicong were a world-renowned elite force that moved like the wind. With more than fifteen thousand men, he was a fierce warrior who had slaughtered the northern nomads until they dared not look south. What could Han Fu do?

He was nearly scared to death.

After finally placating the people from the great families and sending them home to await developments, Han Fu sat alone in his study. His face was so gloomy it seemed water might drip from it. He reached into his robes and tightly gripped the object there, then took several deep breaths before summoning a trusted servant and giving him some orders.

After a long while, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a resolute face entered from outside and bowed to Han Fu. "Greetings, Lord Han."

"You Ruo, there's no need for formalities." Han Fu raised