HNYWEF -Chapter 71 Hulao Pass

Before nightfall, the walls of Hulao Pass came into view.

The soles of Zhou Yi’s feet were aching from all the walking. The moment he spotted those dull gray walls, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He quickened his pace and caught up with Zhou Xiong ahead of him.

“Dad, are we staying here tonight?”

Zhou Xiong nodded.

After entering the city, they found the streets mostly empty. More than half the shops had already closed, and only a few inns still had their lanterns lit.

Zhou Xiong paused at the mouth of an alley, looked around, then chose one that seemed clean enough and pushed the door open.

The inn wasn’t large. Right past the entrance was the main hall, with five or six tables scattered around. A few guests sat here and there.

Behind the counter, a drowsy attendant had been nodding off. Hearing the door open, he lifted his head groggily.

“Need a meal or a room?”

“A room.”

The attendant perked right up and hurriedly flipped through the register. Zhou Xiong took out some copper coins and placed them on the counter. The attendant accepted the money, handed over a key, and pointed upstairs.

“Second floor, turn right.”

But Zhou Xiong didn’t move.

He glanced at the tables in the hall, then at the wall beside the counter. A yellowed sheet of paper was pasted there, several faded lines of writing barely visible on it.

Then he spoke.

“Got anything to eat?”

The attendant nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, the kitchen’s still open. What would you like?”

Zhou Xiong didn’t answer.

He walked to an empty table and sat down.

Zhou Yi followed and sat across from him, watching his father.

The attendant came over and wiped the table with a rag.

“What would the two of you like?”

“Just bring whatever. Two dishes and a pot of wine.”

The attendant answered and hurried toward the kitchen.

The hall quieted down again.

At the neighboring table sat two traveling merchants eating with their heads lowered, occasionally exchanging a few idle remarks.

In the corner sat an old man drinking alone, eyes half narrowed, no one knew what he was thinking about.

Zhou Xiong’s gaze swept across the room.

Then he spoke again.

“Hulao Pass.”

His voice wasn’t loud.

But for some reason, the moment those two words left his mouth, the two merchants at the next table paused mid-bite.

Zhou Xiong didn’t look at them.

He stared at the lantern on the wall, as though talking to himself.

“Know what battle was fought here?”

No one answered.

Zhou Xiong waited a breath.

Then he continued.

“Lü Bu.”

The old man lifted his head.

Zhou Xiong’s voice remained calm and unhurried, like he was recounting something from a very distant past.

“Back then, when the Eighteen Warlords campaigned against Dong Zhuo, this was where they fought. Lü Bu stood alone before the pass, riding Red Hare, holding his Fangtian halberd, slaughtering enemies so fiercely that none of the warlords dared face him.”

The two merchants at the neighboring table had already stopped eating.

Zhou Xiong continued:

“Later, three men charged out.”

The old man’s wine bowl froze halfway to his mouth.

“Liu Bei. Guan Yu. Zhang Fei.”

The hall suddenly fell silent.

So silent that the sounds of spatulas clanging in the kitchen could be heard clearly.

Zhou Xiong lifted his teacup, took a sip, then set it down.

“Liu Bei wielded twin swords. Guan Yu wielded the Green Dragon Crescent Blade. Zhang Fei wielded a丈八 snake spear. The three of them surrounded Lü Bu and fought for over fifty rounds, yet still couldn’t determine a victor.”

At some point, the attendant had come back out from the kitchen. He now stood beside the counter clutching his rag, utterly motionless.

Zhou Xiong went on:

“Lü Bu’s halberd techniques truly were unmatched under heaven. Slashing left and thrusting right, blocking front and rear, he held off all three men alone. But Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei weren’t weaklings either. Their coordination was flawless—you advance, I retreat; you attack, I defend. They managed to keep Lü Bu tied down no matter what.”

The old man’s mouth had fallen open.

The two merchants’ eyes were wide as saucers.

Zhou Xiong paused.

“They fought for eighty rounds. Eighty rounds, until the sky had gone dark. In the end, Lü Bu feinted with his halberd, turned his horse, and fled. Liu Bei and the others gave chase, but couldn’t catch him.”

He finished speaking.

Then he picked up his teacup and took another sip.

The hall remained silent for three breaths.

Then—

“Good!”

The old man slapped the table so hard his wine bowl jumped.

“Well said!”

The two merchants finally snapped out of it and began clapping loudly in agreement.

“This brother here, with your gift for storytelling, it’d be a waste if you didn’t become a professional storyteller!”

“One more story! Another one!”

Even the waiter came over, grinning from ear to ear.

“Sir, what tale was that? I’ve lived at Hulao Pass for twenty years, and this is the first time I’ve heard anything that exciting!”

Zhou Xiong sat there, his face completely expressionless.

He looked at the people applauding for a while.

Then he waved his hand.

“That’s all.”

Just two words.

But the old man still refused to give up.

“Hey, brother, what happened after that? What became of Lü Bu?”

Zhou Xiong said nothing.

He picked up his tea bowl and took another sip.

The two traveling merchants exchanged glances. One of them finally gathered the courage to ask:

“Big brother, where did you hear all this? Is it written in some book?”

Zhou Xiong set the tea bowl down.

He looked at the man.

Looked at him for three breaths.

Then he spoke.

“It isn’t.”

The man froze for a moment.

“It isn’t? Then you—”

“Heard it from someone else,” Zhou Xiong said.

The man asked again, “From who?”

Zhou Xiong did not answer.

He simply sat there, looking at the lamp on the table.

The lamplight flickered gently.

Then the old man suddenly spoke again.

“Brother, that story you told—I’ve lived more than sixty years, and this is the first time I’ve heard it. But listening to it… it sounded real.”

He paused.

“Did you see it with your own eyes?”

Zhou Xiong’s eyes shifted slightly.

Just once.

Then he shook his head.

“No.”

The old man nodded and asked no further questions.

But those cloudy old eyes remained fixed on Zhou Xiong.

The two merchants continued whispering to each other, occasionally sneaking glances over. The waiter wiped the counter, but halfway through, he stopped and looked over as well.

Zhou Yi sat beside his father, watching him.

He did not know what to say.

He only knew that the words his father had spoken just now had stunned everyone in the common hall.

The way those people looked at him now was different from before.

It was no longer the look people gave a blacksmith.

It was something else.

Zhou Xiong picked up his wine bowl and took a drink.

The old man suddenly raised his own bowl toward him.

“Brother, let me toast you.”

Zhou Xiong glanced at him.

Said nothing.

But he lifted his own bowl as well and raised it toward the old man.

Separated by several tables, the two men drank at the same time.

After finishing, the old man set his bowl down and narrowed his eyes with a smile.

“This trip was worth it today.”

Zhou Xiong said nothing.

He put down the wine bowl, picked up his chopsticks, and took a bite of food.

Gradually, sound returned to the hall again. The merchants resumed their quiet conversation, the waiter continued wiping the counter, and the old man poured himself another bowl of wine.

But that feeling still remained.

Zhou Yi could feel it.

Every so often, those people would still glance their way.

As though they were looking at someone—

Even he could not quite describe it.

Zhou Xiong continued eating, his face devoid of expression.

But at the corner of his mouth, there seemed to be the faintest curve.

Very faint.

Zhou Yi saw it.

He said nothing.

Lowering his head, he continued eating.

He only knew one thing.

The story his father had just told… was not in the Records of the Three Kingdoms.