The Imperial Uncle's deep-seated resentment toward high-speed rail, unfortunately, did nothing to alter the unfolding of history on the glowing screen.
[Yangping Pass leaned against the Han River, a textbook example of terrain that favored defense.
Liu Bei, wasting no words, immediately dispatched Chen Shi with three thousand men to cross the Zoumaling ridge northwest of the pass, slipping along the Maming Gallery Road to strike at Xiahou Yuan's rear.]
[Xiahou Yuan, however, hadn't waited at Yangping Pass for half a year for nothing.
Zhang He was already stationed at Guangshi to guard the Maming route, and the moment he received word, Xu Huang was sent to reinforce him.
Caught between two of Cao Wei's Five Elite Generals, Chen Shi not only survived—but managed to bring his battered troops back alive.
That alone was impressive.]
Five Elite Generals?
Several officers straightened instantly.
The "God of Xiaoyao Ford" already ranked among the Four Great Han Generals, standing shoulder to shoulder with Wei Qing and Huo Qubing—an enviable enough title.
And now Cao Cao had five of these?
Zhang Fei was already staring at Liu Bei with unconcealed longing.
Big Brother… look at Cao Cao's roster…
Mi Zhu swallowed and nudged Jian Yong. Jian Yong glanced back, puzzled.
Mi Zhu whispered, "Xianhe, do you think we could rank something like 'Eight Great Han Merchants'? Or maybe 'Four Giants of Han Commerce'?"
Jian Yong looked at him with gentle pity.
This was the first time he'd ever seen a sheep sprint enthusiastically toward the butcher's knife.
"Let me… think about it," Jian Yong said.
Liu Bei, blissfully unaware of the commercial schemes brewing behind him, felt only pride for his subordinate.
Chen Shi had followed him loyally since Xuzhou.
No great achievements. No dazzling exploits.
But diligent, steady, reliable.
From a mere squad leader to a junior officer commanding two hundred men—step by step, without complaint.
Chen Shi lacked the valor of Guan Yu or the ferocity of Zhang Fei.
But an army wasn't built on heroes alone.
It was built on men like Chen Shi—quiet veterans who believed Liu Bei would give them a future worth fighting for.
That realization weighed heavily on Liu Bei's heart.
[If the northwest route was sealed, then try the southeast.
This time, Liu Bei personally led the maneuver, leaving Gao Xiang behind to pin Xiahou Yuan.
With Zhao Yun, Huang Zhong, and Fa Zheng, he crossed the Han River, scaled the Micang Mountains, entered Hanzhong at last—and then climbed yet another mountain, establishing camp atop Mount Dingjun.]
[Xiahou Yuan never imagined that Liu Bei, nearly sixty years old, would pull off a maneuver worthy of an endurance triathlon—looping around to stab him squarely in the back.]
"Where am I?" Zhang Fei asked, utterly confused.
Big Brother had already broken through to the enemy's rear.
A decisive battle was clearly coming.
So where was Zhang the Sixth?
"The Third General is likely still entangled with the Three Caos at Xiabian," Zhuge Liang explained calmly. "The forces in Wudu must be pinned. Otherwise, Cao Wei could slice straight into the Jinniu Road and cut off our lord entirely."
Huang Zhong looked down at his own body, then back at the screen where he followed Liu Bei over rivers, up mountains, down valleys, and back up again.
That's… me?
Wasn't I already seventy by then?
He'd imagined himself holding a pass and striking decisively.
This… was far more exhausting.
Guan Yu assessed the situation coolly. "Xiahou Yuan must attack Dingjun Mountain. Otherwise, morale collapses."
"Yangping Pass is the chokehold," Zhang Fei added decisively. "But if Big Brother is allowed to roam freely behind it, Cao Wei's supply lines won't last."
The screen confirmed their judgment.
[Occupying Dingjun Mountain gave Liu Bei the high ground and the initiative.
Xiahou Yuan panicked and camped at the mountain's base alongside Zhang He.
According to historical records, the two split their forces—Zhang He guarding the eastern approach, Xiahou Yuan the southern—both fortifying with deer-horn barricades, planning a slow grind.]
[Then the Imperial Uncle revealed his true rascal nature.
He broke his troops into rotating small units that descended the mountain to set fires.
If the Wei army advanced, they withdrew.
If the Wei army pulled back, they returned and set more fires.
Over and over.]
Liu Bei was about to protest being labeled a rascal—until the next sixteen words struck him like a temple bell.
So that's how small-unit warfare should be fought.
Around him, the generals were visibly shaken.
"It sounds crude," Zhang Fei admitted, "but the essence of warfare is all there!"
"I'd truly like to hear how this man would judge grand battles like Guandu," he added.
Guan Yu closed his eyes, running the tactics through his mind, confidence growing with every pass.
"To distill such principles—this mind would excel even in legion-scale warfare."
He hesitated.
"Only… that future dynasty—with aircraft carriers and high-speed rail—its wars may be nothing like ours."
Moving territory.
Humanity's pinnacle of military power.
The phrase echoed again, vast and incomprehensible.
What kind of world was that?
Jian Yong and Mi Zhu watched the generals' awed expressions, utterly lost.
We're being excluded again, aren't we?
[This shameless harassment quickly revealed the truth: Zhang He's force was significantly weaker than Xiahou Yuan's.]
[The Shu army split.
Zhao Yun led the main force in a direct assault on Zhang He, plunging him instantly into desperate combat.
Almost by instinct, Zhang He sent urgent pleas for aid to Xiahou Yuan.]
Guan Yu's eyes sharpened.
"Encircle the point. Strike the reinforcements."
"Xiahou Yuan is dead," he said flatly.
[If Zhang He fell, Xiahou Yuan would face a two-front disaster.
He had no choice but to rescue him.
Watching from above, Fa Zheng seized the moment and reported to Liu Bei.
Thus, the last of the Five Tiger Generals—seventy-two-year-old Huang Zhong—charged forth in full armor, striking directly at Xiahou Yuan.]
['A treasured blade gleams like snow, steadying Shu.
Fear not white hair dimming a hero's flame.
The old wolf dons golden armor still bold—
The dusk tiger storms the forest, wind in his wake.']
[Facing the dusk tiger Huang Zhong, Xiahou Yuan fell on the spot.
Wei morale shattered.
Cao Wei's appointed Governor of Yizhou, Zhao Yong, was also slain.
Zhang He, hearing the news, abandoned all hope of battle and led a thousand survivors in a nighttime breakout back to Yangping Pass.
The Battle of Hanzhong had reached its decisive turning point.]
Huang Zhong could no longer contain his grin. He clasped his fists toward his comrades again and again before finally laughing out loud.
"Fear not white hair dimming a hero's flame! Ha!"
Zhang Fei was openly jealous.
Victory was one thing—but victory with poetry?
That was unfair.
Still, thinking of his wife, Lady Xiahou, Zhang Fei quietly exhaled.
Good thing it was Zhang He.
I never liked Xiahou Yuan anyway.
Even Sun Qian, usually calm as still water, stood and bowed deeply.
"General Huang—your valor crowns the three armies."
Liu Bei patted Huang Zhong's shoulder.
The old general's sorrow, Liu Bei understood.
Just last month, he'd sent people to Nanyang to search for surviving relatives of the Huang clan.
News should return soon.
Only Guan Yu remained focused on the wider picture.
"Yangping Pass is now trapped front and rear. Zhang He will fight like a cornered beast."
He paused.
"But Cao Cao will not abandon Hanzhong so easily."