Happy New Year. Someone finally got promoted… out of unemployment.
Ma Su's temporary doorman had officially stepped down.
The original gatekeeper had rushed back before the Spring Festival, proudly announcing that he'd brought his elderly parents and his wife to settle in Public Security County.
"Thanks to Governor Liu's protection," the man said, grinning from ear to ear,
"my wife just gave birth to a big, healthy boy."
His face was dark from years under the sun, but the joy on it could have lit a lantern.
Ma Su felt the wording was… a bit odd.
Still, he happily accepted the red-dyed boiled egg that was passed to him.
The taste wasn't bad at all.
He was halfway through eating when he looked up—and met Zhuge Liang's smiling gaze.
Ma Su's face immediately flushed.
Eating while walking. No decorum at all.
Zhuge Liang waved him over, smiling warmly, and assigned him a new task.
"Chopping firewood?"
Ma Su looked confused. And mildly wronged.
"Not ordinary firewood," Zhuge Liang explained patiently.
"I'll give you ten strong men. Go around Public Security County and cut various types of plants and trees. Sort them by category. Thirty jin of each. Bring everything back to the county office."
Ma Su blinked.
What possible use could this have?
Was the county office planning to host a massive New Year pork stew?
Still full of questions, Ma Su accepted the order and left.
Behind the county office, Sun Qian summoned craftsmen once again.
Since Zhuge Liang had officially moved his workspace to the side hall, several public rooms now sat unused. Liu Bei took one look and made a decisive call:
"We have the formula now. We'll make paper ourselves."
After Zhuge Liang carefully broke down the cost and selling price of Zuo Bo paper for Liu Bei, no one present could remain unmoved.
One roll of Zuo Bo bark paper was nearly equal in value to a bolt of silk—about twelve hundred coins.
And the cost?
Compared to regular hemp paper, which sold for around one hundred eighty coins, the only added expense was mulberry bark.
The price multiplied by ten.
It was nothing short of—
"If I'd known this trick," Zhang Fei exclaimed,
"what the hell was I killing pigs for all those years?"
Even Sun Qian couldn't help smiling.
Following the lord across the land for over a decade, finally securing Jing Province already felt like a dream. Now, with this mysterious light-screen bestowing opportunity after opportunity, Sun Qian's long-held belief only grew firmer:
Liu Bei truly was a hero of the Han.
"What's going on here?"
Sun Qian turned and bowed.
"Master Liu just returned?"
"Yes," Liu Yan laughed.
"With Jing Province newly secured, how could I miss the Spring Festival?"
He waved casually.
"Gongyou, we've known each other ten years already. I've told you—just call me Weishuo."
Watching the craftsmen leveling the ground in the back courtyard, tools lined up beside low buildings clearly marked for demolition, Liu Yan grew curious.
"Is the lord renovating this place into an administrative compound?"
"No," Sun Qian shook his head.
"The lord saw the empty land and decided to use it for papermaking."
"Papermaking?"
Liu Yan tilted his head.
"What for?"
"To sell. For money."
"…Ah."
Deciding not to think too hard, Liu Yan changed the subject.
"Where's the lord? I brought back several jars of fine wine from the Zhang family in Jiangdong. He'll love it."
"He went to seek out the divine physician Zhang Zhongjing," Sun Qian replied honestly.
"Zhang Zhongjing?"
Liu Yan froze.
"The… divine physician?"
"The divine physician," Sun Qian confirmed with certainty.
Liu Yan scratched the back of his head.
I was gone three months.
Why does it feel like three years passed?
That night, at the Zhuge residence.
After dinner, the servants took Zhuge Qiao and Zhuge Guo off to play as usual. Zhuge Liang and Huang Yueying sat by the brazier, speaking softly.
"The lord and I discussed it," Zhuge Liang said.
"In a few days, the county will establish a new department—the Ministry of Ingenuity. I'll oversee it. I want to appoint you as its chief officer."
He smiled.
"Didn't you complain that Zuo Bo paper was too expensive? Our first task will be to reproduce it ourselves."
"Where did the lord obtain the formula?" Huang Yueying asked, curious.
"That," Zhuge Liang said slowly,
"is a long story."
He fetched the bamboo tube he always kept nearby, took out the last few scrolls copied from the light-screen, and explained everything in detail.
Before leaving yesterday, Liu Bei had privately discussed matters with him again. Given how future generations valued technology and craftsmanship, they would first establish the Ministry of Ingenuity in Public Security County.
Its first missions:
Restore Zuo Bo paper
Reproduce the printing techniques mentioned by the light-screen
At the same time, preparations were underway for a Medical Works Department. Everything was ready—except Zhang Zhongjing himself.
The light-screen's mention of key Shu-Han ministers dying young had cast a heavy shadow over Liu Bei's heart.
Hearing of such wonders made Huang Yueying's eyes shine.
But when Zhuge Liang calmly spoke of his own future death—collapsing from exhaustion during a campaign at age fifty-four—tears silently fell.
"If that is your fate," she whispered,
"how could I go on living alone?"
Zhuge Liang sighed and pulled her into his arms.
"We will not let that happen."
After gentle words calmed her, Huang Yueying suddenly realized something.
"Then the curved plow and round cart from last month…"
"Yes," Zhuge Liang nodded.
"So that's it!"
Her smile returned.
"But husband—don't place the Ministry of Ingenuity inside the county office."
"I want to show you something."
She rose, pulling him through the hall to a small room in the back courtyard.
Lighting a bronze lamp carefully, Zhuge Liang froze at the sight before him.
On the table sat a palm-sized waterwheel, set into a carved wooden channel. Through cranks and shafts, it connected to a miniature stone mill and mortar.
Before he could speak, Huang Yueying poured water gently into the channel.
The wheel turned.
The wheel moved the shaft.
The shaft drove the mill and pestle.
Zhuge Liang circled it twice, eyes sharp.
"No human labor at all?"
"Not just that," he murmured, mind racing.
"If this were scaled five times larger—mill and mortar included—just three installations could serve the entire county."
"And if we charged per use… even at seventy percent of market cost—no, fifty percent…"
His pacing quickened.
"Or what if we charged only ten percent? Or nothing at all?"
A door in his mind cracked open, golden light spilling through.
Huang Yueying followed his thoughts.
"If widows and the elderly paid only a fraction," she said,
"their burden would be greatly eased."
"With less labor," Zhuge Liang continued,
"they could maintain their lives with ease."
"And if fields could also be worked with water power…"
"The people would no longer labor year-round," Huang Yueying said softly.
"When food and clothing are sufficient, ritual and virtue follow. A truly well-governed age would not be far."
Then she poured cold water—literally and figuratively.
"To spread this across the realm—how much timber would it take? How many craftsmen?"
"Water never stops. The joints will wear fast. Even tripled in size, the wooden components might last half a day."
"And waterwheels require strong currents. How many places in the realm meet that condition?"
Zhuge Liang fell silent.
This was not a dream.
It was a ledger.
And every line cost money.
But once the door opens, it never truly closes