Everyone present already understood what tally-tokens—fupai—were.
Authority made physical.
Proof you belonged.
Even Huang Yueying now carried one: a bronze token engraved with "Department of Engineering and Craftsmanship." With it, she could enter and leave the county office as freely as any official clerk, without being stopped, questioned, or stared at.
Liu Bei looked at the token for a long moment before sighing softly.
"It seems that after seventeen hundred years," he said, voice heavy, "many Han customs and institutions have been lost… or twisted beyond recognition."
It was not anger.
It was grief—for a future he would never see.
"We should record them whenever we can," Kongming replied at once. This was clearly something he had already thought through. "Once the seas are calm and the rivers are clear, I will resign from office, return home, live quietly with my wife—and follow the example of Sima Qian in compiling history."
"Once the seas are calm and the rivers are clear…" Liu Bei repeated, shaking his head with a faint, helpless smile.
If he wanted to live long enough to see that day, he would have to fight very hard just to stay alive.
Their discussion soon drifted toward a new and deeply unsettling blind spot in their shared understanding.
"What exactly is this… Cthulhu?" someone asked.
"And what sort of thing is a Tentacle Monster?"
"Hands like tentacles," Jiang Wan muttered, trying to picture it, a chill crawling up his spine. "A face like a monster. Why would anyone worship such a thing?"
"Perhaps it is for the sake of science," Kongming said thoughtfully.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"If a craftsman had hands as flexible and numerous as tentacles," he continued seriously, "constructing intricate mechanisms would become vastly more efficient."
Zhang Fei stared at him in horror.
It's over.
The Military Counselor's mind has been completely corrupted by science.
Look at those words—Father, Savior. That's obviously some kind of cult sacrifice! Wake up, Counselor!
As for the idea that future commoners would entrust civil administration, military command, and financial authority all to Guan Yu alone, the group could only laugh.
Folk worship had always worked this way. Give people a symbol, and they would build a god.
"Second Brother," Zhang Fei said, nudging him with his elbow, "why didn't you write down all those ridiculous titles that 'Slacker Emperor' gave you?"
Guan Yu was silent for a moment. Then he spoke calmly, almost lazily.
"As that Guan Yu on the screen said," he replied, "I am merely a warrior of Jieling. The second brother of my Lord. And the second brother of Yide."
"The people sacrifice to me not because of my achievements," he continued, "but because of the brotherhood and righteousness we share."
Liu Bei's expression softened visibly.
"Yide… Yunchang," he said quietly. "When we reach Chengdu, let us clear a piece of land and plant another Peach Garden."
Zhang Fei suddenly hesitated, an old memory surfacing from his days in Zhuo Commandery.
"Brother," he said cautiously, "people don't just pray for wealth and military success. They also pray for… many sons and many blessings."
He paused.
"Do you think there's a Child-bearing Martial Saint Guan Yu that the screen was too embarrassed to mention?"
The answer came immediately.
A thunderous roar shook the county office.
"YIDE! PREPARE TO DIE!"
That day, the servants sweeping the courtyard saw the Third General sprinting faster than a startled rabbit, vaulting over the gates of the county office and disappearing down the road in an instant.
"The Third General and the Second General truly share a wonderful relationship," the servants said approvingly.
After handing over his naval troops to Guan Yu, Lei Xu reorganized his forces.
From among the Jiang-Huai refugees, he recruited veterans over forty years old—men with experience, scars, and nothing left to lose. After a short period of training, they were assigned to maintain daily law and order throughout Gong'an County.
On this day, Lei Xu was summoned to the county office.
He knelt properly on the mat as Liu Bei delivered his appointment.
"The security of Gong'an County will also fall under your responsibility."
Lei Xu was stunned.
"With such trust from my Lord," he said solemnly, "I will repay it with my life!"
Then doubt crept in.
"But… wasn't Gong'an's security previously handled by General Fu Shiren?"
Fu Shiren was an old follower of Liu Bei—one of the early men. He had even shared drinks with Lei Xu before, boasting casually of his long service under the General of the Left.
Maintaining Gong'an's security was no minor task. Taking over such a role might invite jealousy.
"Shiren…" Liu Bei said slowly.
"Yunchang believes he is a trainable talent for naval warfare. He has been transferred for training."
Navy?
Lei Xu was completely baffled.
Fu Shiren was a northerner through and through. Since when did he qualify as naval material?
But then he remembered that General Guan himself was also from the north. Perhaps there truly was some hidden potential he simply couldn't see.
With his new seal of office in hand, Lei Xu headed back toward the western side of the county.
On the way, he overheard two peddlers chatting.
"Why hasn't that fair-faced gentleman from the Mi family appeared lately?"
"Who knows? Maybe he joined the army."
Lei Xu frowned.
Strange.
He clearly remembered that Fu Shiren and Mi Fang had once been inseparable.
"The Lord's path is truly difficult," Lei Xu murmured to himself, before forcing the thought aside.
That same day, Pan Jun received a reply from his cousin Jiang Wan.
The letter said only that the General of the Left was thirsty for talent and would soon issue a formal summons.
Pan Jun smiled and turned to his father.
"I don't know what luck Gongyan has stumbled into," he said lightly. "A mere clerk, now promoted to confidant under the General of the Left."
Pan's father carefully adjusted his son's robes, his expression grave.
"When you serve the General of the Left," he said, "never forget who you are truly serving."
"I understand," Pan Jun said, bowing deeply.
In early May, the city of Ancheng in Changsha Commandery received an unexpected visitor.
"Are you Wu Dang?"
Zhao Yun sat tall on horseback, studying the composed scholar before him.
"I am."
"Governor Zhang Yi recommended you," Zhao Yun said evenly. "He claims you uphold the integrity of a Han official and possess the spirit of Su Wu."
He paused.
"Are you willing to march with me—and prove that the Southern Seas also produce heroes?"
Wu Dang could barely contain his excitement.
"General Zhao… you even know my place of origin?"
"Are you coming or not?" Zhao Yun pointed behind him. "I brought you a horse. Shushan told me to lead it here. Must I lead it back empty?"
Wu Dang didn't hesitate. He ran forward and vaulted onto the horse, laughing loudly.
"I am willing to serve as the General's vanguard—and die for the Han!"
"Then let us go," Zhao Yun said, pulling the reins.
They galloped off.
After a short distance, another rider drew alongside Wu Dang—a man with a simple, honest face.
"Brother Shushan, we meet again."
"Yuan Long?" Wu Dang was startled. They had met once the year before while seeking supplies in Changsha.
"I was also recruited by General Zhao," Yuan Long said, gazing at Zhao Yun's back with open admiration. "I've forgotten most of what he said—but if he says we're going to Xiangfan to strike the traitor Cao, then I, Yuan Long, will follow him to death."
Wu Dang straightened.
"General Zhao and our Lord are loyal ministers of the Han. I, Wu Shushan, have long dedicated my seven-foot body to the Han. I will follow them to the end."
Yuan Long laughed.
"Then we are comrades. Let that traitor Cao witness the strength of Han ministers!"
Around the same time, Fan Zhou of Wuling and the Xi brothers of Lingling received their transfer orders.
Xi Zhen stared at the document, then at the messenger, then back at the document.
"The General of the Left wishes to recruit me… and my younger brother Xi Hong?"
The messenger—one of Chen Dao's personal soldiers—spoke bluntly.
"Are you unwilling?"
"I am willing," Xi Zhen said quickly. Then he stepped aside.
"My brother Xi Hong is thirteen."
Behind him stood a boy not even as tall as a horse, hair unbound, face still unmistakably childish.
The messenger fell silent.
Finally, he said gruffly, "The order names both brothers. If you are willing, come."
The boy jumped with joy.
"Of course I'm willing!"
Life in Gong'an County grew busier by the day.
The paper mill expanded steadily under heavy investment. Yet the craftsmen noticed changes.
Mi Zhu—usually gentle and smiling—now carried a sorrow that never fully left his face.
Huang Yueying, once omnipresent, appeared less often. She was said to be researching something called mathematics.
What comforted the workers was the rice.
Under the Military Counselor's guidance, it grew better than ever. Though the weather was imperfect, a bumper harvest was certain.
With food secure and wages steady, the people felt their lives slowly returning to order.
At that moment, inside the county office, Liu Bei summoned Kongming.
His first words were quiet—and devastating.
"Zhou Gongjin is critically ill," he said.
"His death… is likely unavoidable."