When the light screen revealed that Zhou Yu's death was imminent, Liu Bei found himself caught in a knot of conflicting emotions.
On one hand, it was impossible not to admire Zhou Yu.
Beautiful Zhou.
A man who had steadied Jiangdong while still young, shattered Cao Cao's ambitions at Red Cliffs in the prime of his life, and carried himself with a natural elegance that made even rivals sigh in respect. Talent, bearing, reputation—he had all three, without excess.
On the other hand, Zhou Yu was also a living, breathing enemy.
Lu Su's private correspondence made this painfully clear. Zhou Yu's hostility toward Liu Bei was only slightly less intense than his hatred for Cao Cao—and that was only because Liu Bei lacked Cao Cao's scale.
So when Liu Bei first learned—through the light screen—that Zhou Yu's life was drawing to a close, a quiet sense of relief had crept into his heart.
A dangerous opponent, reclaimed by Heaven.
And yet, at the same time, there was a heavy regret: another hero of the age, cut down before his time.
It was not until his negotiations with Zhou Yu on the Yangtze two months earlier that Liu Bei finally understood something essential.
Whether Zhou Yu lived or died was not a choice Liu Bei could make.
In the language of the future, Zhou Yu was likely suffering from severe bacterial inflammation, a condition that worsened with terrifying speed. Liu Bei had privately consulted the Divine Physician Zhang Zhongjing, who arrived at a similar judgment: if the infected flesh had been cut away early and the patient kept in strict rest, recovery might have been possible.
But Zhou Yu had refused to withdraw.
He forced himself onto the front lines, suppressed the pain, and continued commanding troops.
At that point, the outcome was sealed.
He was not fighting illness anymore.
He was waiting for death.
And even if Liu Bei warned Marquis Sun Quan, what then?
At best, it would be dismissed as interference.
At worst, as malicious slander meant to fracture Jiangdong.
Why invite suspicion for nothing?
Once Liu Bei accepted this, his heart grew calm.
When the latest intelligence arrived, he felt no shock—only inevitability. Events were unfolding exactly as they must.
And besides…
If Zhou Yu did not depart, how could Pang Tong ever arrive?
"Zhou Yu is critically ill?" Zhuge Liang asked.
His tone carried a trace of surprise—but only a trace.
Two secret letters lay open before him. Kongming scanned them swiftly, mind already assembling the larger picture.
"The first," he said, tapping the document, "is from Jiangxia. It reports that a boat departed Jiangling last night and sailed toward Chaisang."
He moved to the second.
"And this one—from Jiangling itself—notes that the interval between city guard shifts has been significantly lengthened."
Kongming lifted his head.
"Lu Su's trip has already borne fruit," he concluded. "Zhou Yu has gone to Chaisang to recuperate."
Recuperate—yes.
But also to persuade Marquis Sun Quan to launch an expedition against Yi Province.
That much, the light screen had already made clear.
Putting all the threads together, Kongming's eyes brightened.
"Congratulations, my Lord," he said, cupping his hands.
"Jiangling is now within our grasp."
Liu Bei frowned slightly.
He thought for a moment—and saw nothing.
"Then… what should we do?" he asked honestly, giving up and placing his trust in the strategist.
Kongming smiled faintly.
"My Lord should send another letter to Marquis Sun."
He continued without pause, as if reciting a familiar melody.
"Praise Yue Jin's bravery. Promise that if Zhou Yu attacks Yi Province, we are willing to serve as the vanguard."
"But also say this," he added gently. "That you cannot bear to see members of your own clan—yourself and Liu Zhang—slaughter each other. Therefore, you wish to march on Hanzhong alone instead."
Then—
Reaching deep into his sleeve, Kongming produced a letter already sealed and prepared.
"Have Mi Fang send this secret letter," he said calmly.
"If both arrive at the same time, Jiangling will fall into our hands."
Moments later, Mi Zhu was summoned.
When Liu Bei handed him the letter, Mi Zhu's expression twisted into something painfully complex—shame, gratitude, anger at his younger brother's weakness, and awe at the Military Counselor's ruthless precision, all tangled together.
"I will not fail," Mi Zhu said firmly.
"I swear it."
Late May. Danthu.
Lu Su entered the city gates travel-worn and dusty—only to find Sun Quan in unusually high spirits.
"Come, come, Zijing!" Sun Quan laughed, cheeks flushed with drink. "Have a cup of this Nine-Fermented Spring!"
The young lord's strange eyes gleamed, his beard catching the light. Drunk or sober, he looked every bit a ruler.
Lu Su accepted the cup, inhaled the fragrance, and drank it dry.
"My thanks, my Lord," he said. "May I ask—what joyful occasion calls for such a banquet?"
Sun Quan snatched the cup back and thrust it at an attendant.
"Fill it again!"
Then he laughed loudly.
"Today's banquet is a farewell for Zishan!"
Despite the drink, his words were slow and clear.
"Lai Gong of Jiaozhou sent word that Wu Ju insulted him. Zishan volunteered to take a thousand men and pacify Jiaozhou."
Lai Gong… of Lingling?
Lu Su's brows furrowed. Hadn't Lai Gong already surrendered to Liu Bei? Why complain to Jiangdong about Wu Ju?
Did Lai Gong secretly lean toward Sun Quan?
Lu Su thought for a heartbeat—then dismissed it.
Impossible.
Neither Lai Gong nor Wu Ju had prior ties to Jiangdong. Jiaozhou was vast, sparse, and difficult to govern. Sun Quan had always coveted it—not for conquest, but for leverage.
This expedition was a display of force, nothing more.
Bu Zhi approached, cup in hand, and greeted Lu Su.
"Then Zishan's position as Governor…" Lu Su began.
"Inspector of Jiaozhou!" Sun Quan interrupted happily, clapping Bu Zhi's shoulder.
"And besides—" he took another swig "—Liu Bei sent a letter."
Sun Quan laughed, wine burbling.
"He says if Zhou Yu attacks Yi Province, he will attack Hanzhong. He even claims he can't bear to kill his own clansman, Liu Zhang!"
"Hah!"
"Does he think I can't see through such ghostly tricks?" Sun Quan scoffed. "He wants Hanzhong the same way he stole the four commanderies of Jing Province. Does he think he's the High Ancestor reborn?"
Lu Su shot Bu Zhi a glance.
Bu Zhi immediately excused himself—claiming his wine tolerance was poor—and withdrew.
Lu Su stepped closer.
"The Grand Viceroy received a secret letter from Gong'an," he said quietly. "It claims Liu Bei has grown arrogant—boasting that Guan Yu is invincible and that the four commanderies are solid as iron."
He continued.
"Cao Cao has sent Yue Jin to guard Xiangfan. Given Yue Jin's habit of charging first over the walls, he will likely strike Jiangling after July."
Lu Su paused.
"In my view, we should hand Jiangling to Liu Bei. Let us see who is truly fierce—Yue Jin or Guan Yu."
Sun Quan's green eyes cleared.
"Where did this letter come from?"
"Mi Fang," Lu Su replied. "Mi Zhu's younger brother. A man who loves pleasure. Mi Zhu poured all the family wealth into Liu Bei's treasury. Mi Fang resents him deeply."
"Is he trustworthy?" Sun Quan asked sharply.
Lu Su changed the subject smoothly.
"The attendants who accompanied Lady Sun reported earlier that a new paper mill has been built in Gong'an."
Sun Quan said nothing, signaling him to continue as they moved into the study.
"They say Mi Zhu paid heavily to acquire the secrets of Zuobo Paper from Cao Cao's territory. Liu Bei plans to fund his armies with it."
Lu Su lowered his voice.
"The man who sent the secret letter claims he stole part of the recipe. He wishes to sell it to you… for three hundred gold."
"Three hundred gold?!" Sun Quan's hand shook mid-stroke, ruining a sheet of precious Zuobo Paper.
Feeling the loss keenly, he cursed.
"Is he insane?! A hundred—no, ten gold at most! If he refuses, we expose him to Liu Bei!"
"The transaction has already been completed," Lu Su said apologetically. "The Viceroy believes the partial recipe can verify his reliability—and serve as leverage later."
Sun Quan ground his teeth.
"If it's paid, it's paid. What a petty wretch."
"And the recipe?"
"Paper-makers in Chaisang believe it's genuine," Lu Su replied. "But production will take time."
Sun Quan waved his hand.
"No matter."
He straightened.
"Order Liu Bei to move his headquarters to Jiangling. Once Zhou Yu recovers and marches on Yi Province, Liu Bei will serve as vanguard."
He sneered.
"Everything in Gong'an will belong to me."
"And when that time comes—find that little man who dared demand three hundred gold… and execute him."
He turned to Lu Su.
"Zijing, your thoughts?"
Lu Su bowed deeply, relief plain on his face.
"My Lord's judgment is impeccable."
"So this is Jiangling?"
Zhang Fei stared at the city walls, thoroughly disappointed.
"This is the 'Great Stronghold of the World'?"
Huang Zhong rode up beside him, laughing.
"Easy, General Zhang. If Jiangling is to become a great stronghold, that will be General Guan's work. For now, it is merely a large town of Nan Commandery."
At the front of the column, Guan Yu said nothing.
He studied the city quietly.
But deep in his eyes, ambition burned.
In this life, he thought, the Jiangling I build with my own hands will be famous throughout the realm.
In that other life, it was made famous by another—only to glorify my enemies.
What a tragedy.
Ahead of him rode Liu Bei—alone.
"Brother," Guan Yu asked after a moment, "why did Kongming not come?"
He deeply admired the plan: forging Mi Fang's handwriting, manipulating Sun Quan and Zhou Yu perfectly—and even making a profit in the process.
They had entered Jiangling a full year ahead of the future shown on the screen.
Why was Kongming absent?
"Kongming…" Liu Bei said, worry threading his voice.
"Word came from Wu Ziqing."
He paused.
"There may be trouble… in Jiaozhou."