Youzhou stretched boundlessly beneath fierce, cold winds.
Yan Lin, ruler of Yan State, rode forward. He was tall and fully bearded, clad in armor. Slowly, he spread his arms, and flakes of snow settled on his enraptured face with a faint chill. He seemed to be sighing in wonder, yet also chanting a poem. An Emperor Wu with a poet's air, he marveled, "Is this the snow of the Southern Kingdom?
"It's so warm."
Snowflakes.
Warmth.
When those two words came together, they were so strange, yet coming from the ruler of Yan State, they made people feel how sincere he truly was.
Yan Lin raised the Sharp Sword in his hand high and declared loudly, "Young men of Great Yan.
"The south is warmer still.
"I, the Solitary One, shall obey Heaven's decree and grant you the finest land and beautiful women.
"We shall have everything.
"South!
"Home!"
His voice thundered. He galloped before the vast army on his magnificent steed, and Yan State's finest Imperial Guards raced with him before the ranks.
"South!"
"Home!"
Countless voices rose and fell throughout the Yan State army.
What, exactly, did those voices contain?
Yet that surging vigor, those roars from the depths of their hearts, shook men most of all, sweeping everything away like an autumn wind scattering fallen leaves.
Within the Hebei Army, the somewhat self-satisfied expression on Yuan Shao's face turned utterly grave. Luo Yan rode to his side and said somberly, "My lord, you must be careful. This Yan State cannot be compared to Gongsun Zan."
Yuan Shao looked at his Hebei soldiers, wearied somewhat by years of continuous fighting, and a trace of concern flashed through his eyes. The breath the soldiers had been holding had escaped the moment they defeated Gongsun Zan.
Yan State's sudden appearance