A few days after the three brothers had laid their grain upon the back courtyard of Jizhou (冀州), Yuan Shao's (袁紹) seven hundred thousand great army arrayed itself before the plain of Guandu (官渡).

Cao Cao's (曹操) three hundred thousand main army arrayed itself south of the river at Guandu. Between the two armies flowed a narrow river (渑水). Yuan Shao's seven hundred thousand spread across the wide plain north of the river; his banners alone seemed to stretch a thousand li (千里).

Yuan Shao spoke low before the great table. "My force is more than double Cao Cao's. Let us strike at a single stroke and break his army." Ju Shou (沮授) offered a quiet remonstrance. "My Lord. Cao Cao's force is not shallow. His grain (糧食) has grown thin. Wait by protracted warfare (持久戰), and cut at his grain first."

Yuan Shao shook his head. "Ju Shou. Seven hundred thousand cannot stand long. Let us strike at a single stroke." Ju Shou swallowed a low sigh. He knew his own counsel was being emptied.

Meanwhile, inside Cao Cao's main camp, Guo Jia (郭嘉) spoke quietly. "My Lord. Yuan Shao's force is great, yet slow to decide. Our force is shallow, yet quick to decide. This seat is our seat. Save the grain, and find a seat to break him from within his own tent."

Cao Cao nodded deeply. Stockades (防柵) were raised high on the southern bank at Guandu. Yuan Shao's arrows flew across the river; Cao Cao's arrows flew across. The two flights of arrows swallowed the air above the river together.

The standoff (對峙) at Guandu stretched on, and neither side broke. One month passed, then two. Yuan Shao's seven hundred thousand began to loosen upon the plain. Cao Cao's three hundred thousand also grew thin in their stores.

The two armies waited upon each other. Whose force would break first; whose grain would first show its bottom; that would decide today.

Meanwhile, inside the inner chamber at Xudu (許都), Dong Cheng (董承) was preparing, one thread at a time, the Girdle-Robe Edict (衣帶詔). The first line sewn into the inside of Dong Cheng's hem would begin to move after the standoff of Guandu.

Inside Ju Shou's tent at Yuan Shao's camp, a lamp burned past midnight. Ju Shou had laid two small maps upon his low table: one of the grain routes from Yecheng to the river, and one of the camp's own granary and its guards. He read the two side by side. The grain routes were long; the granary was concentrated at a single place called Wuchao (烏巢), thirty li to the north. A counselor who has read two such maps side by side rarely sleeps the same night. He did not sleep. At dawn he rolled the maps up, slid them into his sleeve, and did not show them to his lord. His lord had already set aside two remonstrances; a third, carrying a map of his own granary, would likely meet a fate colder than silence. Ju Shou walked out of his tent in the first grey light and looked toward Wuchao. The direction was calm; no smoke rose. Not yet.

Far to the south, at Xudu, Xun Yu wrote a short reply to a courier from Cao Cao's main camp. The reply held a single line of instruction: hold the stockades, count the grain, and wait for the first small signal that would come from inside the enemy's own tent. Xun Yu sealed the reply and handed it to the courier before the man had finished his morning tea. A counselor whose lord has just begun a standoff with thinning stores rarely lets a courier finish tea. The courier drank a last sip and rode. Xudu's reply would reach Guandu before the second month had closed.

Inside Yuan Shao's main tent, another counselor named Xu You (許攸) sat alone with a cup of unfinished wine. That week he had proposed a strike against Xudu's rear while Cao Cao was tied at Guandu; his lord had set it aside. The next day he had proposed that the granary guards at Wuchao be doubled; his lord had set that aside as well. Tonight Xu You was reading a small letter from an old friend at Xudu who had written under a false name to ask after his health. The letter contained no plan. Yet its very politeness had begun to open a door inside Xu You's chest that had long been lightly closed. He did not walk out of the camp that night. He only read the letter twice and laid it inside his sleeve. Some letters, read twice inside a sleeve, stand for a longer distance than any map.

The eighty-ninth night of Book 3 deepened quietly upon the river at Guandu. The three characters Gwando-dae (官渡對, the standoff at Guandu) were planted as a seed: one breath in which the stockades of a river, the two flights of arrows, the loosening of a month, and the hem at Xudu all sat at one seat. The reunion of Day 88's Gijuhoe (冀州會) was laid, this night, beside the standoff at Guandu.

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