[Voiceover on the Light Screen]
"We won't linger on the civil officials here; many of them will appear again in later videos.
Next, let us proceed to the Main Hall.
Since this is the Wuhou Temple, it would be improper not to pay respects to Liu Bei himself.
The Main Hall, flanked by the civil and military galleries, enshrines Emperor Zhaolie at its center.
To his right stands Liu Chen, Prince of Beidi.
And to his left…
is a piece of rotten wood."
Rotten wood?
One side Liu Chen—
the other, a stump of decayed timber.
Liu Bei's heart skipped violently. A dark premonition had already taken root, spreading fast. Yet he forced himself to look away from the thought, because on the screen, the young man named Wen Mang had already begun speaking again, his tone solemn and measured.
[Voiceover]
"Since this is the principal temple of Emperor Zhaolie, let us proceed in proper order.
First, we pay homage to the Emperor himself."
The playful air vanished from Wen Mang's face. He straightened, cupped his hands, and bowed deeply before Liu Bei's statue.
Around him, tourists followed suit—some bowing, some pressing palms together in prayer. No one shouted. No one ran. In that hall, Emperor Zhaolie of Shu-Han was afforded a quiet, weighty reverence.
Only after the bows were complete did Wen Mang speak again.
[Voiceover]
"We've introduced Emperor Zhaolie many times before. From the Oath in the Peach Garden to the Entrustment at Baidi City, most of you likely know the story better than I do.
So next, let us turn to Shu-Han's so-called Emperor Huai: Liu Shan.
Unfortunately, there is no statue of A-Dou here today.
Only a section of rotten wood remains.
It seems to say nothing—
yet in truth, it says everything."
Liu Bei and his ministers stared at the gnarled, decaying tree root on the screen.
Was this the silent judgment of later generations upon his son?
Was this how the Sovereign of Shu-Han was remembered?
And that posthumous title—Huai.
Liu Bei was no master of posthumous honors, but he knew of King Huai of Chu—the ruler whose incompetence had driven Qu Yuan into despair and death. What kind of praise could such a title possibly be?
As for "rotten wood," its meaning was universal.
Rotten wood cannot be carved; walls of dung and filth cannot be plastered.
Confucius had said it plainly long ago. Perhaps, out of respect for Liu Bei himself, later generations had refrained from erecting an actual dung wall inside his temple.
[Voiceover]
"Let us begin with this piece of wood.
Originally, Liu Shan did have a statue in the Zhaolie Temple. One school of thought holds that his surrender spared the people of Chengdu from massacre, and that the locals once respected him for it.
However, a line from Du Fu's Ascending the Heights—
'Pitiful is the Late Lord, still dwelling in his ancestral shrine'—
suggests that Liu Shan's statue had already been expelled at least once before the Tang Dynasty.
The Tang restored it.
By the Northern Song, the Prefect of Yizhou yielded to public anger and threw Liu Shan out again.
During the Southern Song, he was invited back.
Then, during Ming renovations, the people of Chengdu expelled him a third time.
Fearing Emperor Zhaolie would be too lonely, they invited the Prince of Beidi, Liu Chen, to take his place.
This is the layout we see today.
Ancient emperors performed the ritual of 'Three Refusals' before accepting the throne.
A-Dou, however, achieved something else entirely—
Thrice Thrown, Twice Invited.
And in the end, he never made it back."
The sheer absurdity of his son's temple history left Liu Bei caught between tears and laughter.
So this was how unwelcome A-Dou had become.
Every time an official invited him back in—
the people drove him right back out.
But then… why Liu Chen?
Liu Bei turned his gaze toward the statue of his grandson.
[Voiceover]
"Much like this 'Thrice Thrown' fate, the controversy surrounding Liu Shan continues to this day.
Yet some matters are undisputed.
For instance, Liu Shan strictly followed the Prime Minister's Proclamation on Starting the Expedition.
Every official named in that proclamation was employed.
Under such circumstances, court governance remained passable.
After the Prime Minister's passing, during the so-called 'Wei Yan Rebellion,' Liu Shan consulted Jiang Wan and Dong Yun extensively before issuing any orders."
The Proclamation on Starting the Expedition?
The hall stirred with confusion.
The Fourteen Generals had mentioned Xiang Chong being named in it. Earlier scrolling comments had begged to "finish reading it." Could a single essay truly sustain a state?
Zhuge Liang could only smile faintly and shake his head.
He was Counselor-General Zhuge Liang—
not yet the Prime Minister of Shu-Han.
[Voiceover]
"But after Fei Yi's assassination, the 'talent pool' named in the Proclamation was exhausted.
Liu Shan then began favoring the eunuch Huang Hao.
Thus, the seeds of ruin were sown.
Chen Shou recorded that officials gradually learned to flatter the Emperor and curry favor with the eunuchs.
In 263, Jiang Wei discovered Wei General Zhong Hui training troops in Guanzhong and urgently memorialized Liu Shan.
However—
'Hao believed in sorcerers and spirits, claiming the enemy would never come. He persuaded the Late Lord to suppress the matter, and the court remained ignorant.'
Huang Hao summoned shamans to divine the future. When they declared the enemy would not arrive, Liu Shan felt reassured.
He informed none of his ministers.
Even Luo Xian—the famed 'War God' who later held a lone city against Wu for half a year after Shu's fall—was merely demoted in his prime, because he refused to flatter Huang Hao."
So… the fate of the state rested on a single essay?
Liu Bei's fury finally boiled over.
He thought he had prepared himself for his son's mediocrity—but favoring eunuchs made his blood surge. When he heard believing in sorcerers… the court remained ignorant, his vision darkened and his body swayed.
Zhuge Liang, already alerted by Huang Yueying, reached him together with Zhao Yun.
"You wretched boy!" Liu Bei roared. "How dare you! The lesson of the Ten Eunuchs was only decades past! Do you wish to tread that path of ruin again?!"
Yet even as he raged, Liu Bei knew—
he could not reach across time.
He closed his eyes in helpless agony.
Seeing him pale as death, Zhang Fei leaned close and whispered, "Brother… should I take A-Dou to the army camp tonight…?"
"To what end!" Liu Bei snapped, clarity cutting through the pain.
"He is not merely foolish—he is useless! First he leaned on Kongming, then on the Four Chancellors! Once they were gone, he leaned on eunuchs and ghosts! In four hundred years of Han rule, there has never been such a sovereign!"
The words were harsh.
Zhang Fei paled. "Brother… A-Dou is still young…"
"He is right," Guan Yu said calmly. "A-Dou is but four years old. We can still mold him in the spirit of the Great Ancestor or Emperor Wu."
Liu Bei exhaled slowly and waved a hand.
"I'm fine… Wait. What is the screen singing now?"
Zhang Fei listened. "It says it's something called Jingyun Dagu—a future drum song. The segment is titled The Entrustment at Baidi City. Like our plays. Written by a scholar… it sounds haunting."
"Hush," Liu Bei said. "Let me listen."
The hall fell into rare silence.
Through it, rhythmic chanting drifted forth.
[The Song]
…Little A-Dou kneels before the bed, tears falling in pairs…
Liu Bei smiled bitterly.
Baidi City lies leagues from Chengdu. Why would I ever bring A-Dou there for a final entrustment?
[The Song]
…Your father has final words you must hear…
This realm was not built by us father and son alone,
But forged from the blood, sweat, and cunning of every civil and military official…
Liu Bei nodded faintly.
True.
This empire had never been his alone.
All these heroes—even the Strategist himself—had come to restore the Han.
To build is hard. To keep is harder still.
He had wandered half his life to understand the first.
Only now did he grasp the second.
[The Song]
…You must not disgrace your two Uncles and their brotherhood…
In fortune or misfortune,
You must cherish Guan Xing and Zhang Bao twice as dearly as others…
If your life is lived without meaning,
Then it is lived in vain…
And Zhao Zilong's charge at Changban Slope will have been for nothing…
Tears finally slipped from the corners of Liu Bei's tightly shut eyes.
A-Dou had been carried through Seven In and Seven Out at Changban.
At the Zhaolie Temple, he achieved Two In, Three Out.
Together—nine.
A number fit for an Emperor's fate.