"My Lord," Pang Tong asked almost immediately,
"who is this Ma Zhong?"
It was not arrogance. It was professional instinct.
Pan Tong didn't claim to have a photographic memory,, but he had served at Zhou Yu's side for nearly a year. Civil officials, military officers, advisers, attendants—he remembered most of them. East Wu was not large. Talented men, especially, were rarely invisible.
He searched his memory.
Nothing.
He searched again—more carefully.
Still nothing.
Finally, Pang Tong had to admit defeat and turn back to Liu Bei.
"Though this Ma Zhong is currently only a minor commander—a yamenjiang—under Pan Zhang," Liu Bei said calmly, "he possesses great talent and a heart loyal to the Han House."
His tone was almost appreciative.
"Shun rose from the fields," Liu Bei continued. "Baili Xi was once sold as a slave. It would be a waste for such a man to remain buried among the ranks."
Pang Tong's brows twitched.
A minor commander… with great talent?
If this were idle praise, Pang Tong would have dismissed it. But Liu Bei's eyes were steady. Serious.
And then—something clicked.
Pang Tong recalled Liu Bei's behavior during the funeral rites.
He had not been overwhelmed by grief.
Nor had he concealed triumph.
When he glanced back at the mourning hall, there had been only a fleeting trace of pity.
More importantly—
Liu Bei had arrived extraordinarily early.
Pang Tong's pupils shrank.
My Lord knew Zhou Gongjin would die.
But how?
Pang Tong himself had personally sealed all news of Zhou Yu's worsening condition. Even Lu Su had been kept in the dark. No messenger could have escaped. No rumor should have spread.
There was only one possibility.
Kongming.
Only the Sleeping Dragon could sit in Jing Province and still see through East Wu as though mist were glass. Whether by deduction, hidden intelligence, or something even deeper—it did not matter.
The result was terrifying.
For the first time, Pang Tong felt a distinct sense of powerlessness. It was as if, across the river, Kongming's calm, handsome face was smiling faintly at him.
That pressure pushed the Fledgling Phoenix into motion.
"In that case," Pang Tong said, leaning forward, voice lowering,
"I will seek out this Ma Zhong for you."
Then, without waiting, he pressed on.
"Yesterday, you arrived with Bu Zhi. Are you plotting for Jiao Province?"
Liu Bei did not answer immediately.
Pang Tong explained swiftly, almost eagerly:
"Bu Zishan is a close confidant of the Marquis of Wu. His simultaneous appointment as Governor of Jiao Province and General of the Household makes Sun Quan's intentions obvious. Yet yesterday, I saw Bu Zhi leaving Sun Quan's residence—his expression utterly dejected."
Pang Tong smiled faintly.
"It seems you have already ruined his plans."
He paused, then asked directly:
"I congratulate the Lord. But do you truly intend to take Jiao Province?"
Ah.
This feeling.
Liu Bei leaned back, letting his body relax. His mind loosened, and a familiar smile surfaced—the one he wore when testing true talent.
"What do you think, Shiyuan?"
Pang Tong considered carefully.
"Jiao Province is vast but sparsely populated. Its tribes are fierce, difficult to govern. Shi Xie is a man of shifting loyalties. With only four commanderies in Jing Province, we cannot stabilize him long-term."
He raised his eyes.
"It would be better to secretly support Shi Xie—prevent Sun Quan from taking advantage—while we focus on Yi Province, Hanzhong, and then Guanzhong."
He concluded calmly:
"Once Cao Cao falls, Shi Xie will naturally align with you."
Liu Bei nodded slowly, deeply satisfied.
"As expected of Shiyuan," he said.
"Your plan is nearly identical to Kongming's."
The excitement vanished from Pang Tong's face instantly.
He stood.
"I will go find Ma Zhong," he said, bowing.
As Pang Tong departed with quick, purposeful steps, Liu Bei watched him with quiet awe.
So this is the Fledgling Phoenix.
And as Pang Tong walked beneath the white funeral banners lining Dantu's streets, he exhaled softly.
So this is the Sleeping Dragon.
He recalled Pan Zhang: broad-minded, fond of drink, poor, yet obsessed with wealth.
Could such a man truly have a hidden talent beneath him?
Then I must take him.
---
The Missing Legend
The satisfaction of securing Pang Tong had barely settled when another announcement arrived.
"A merchant from Xu Province seeks an audience," a servant reported.
"He claims to be an old acquaintance of the General of the Left."
Liu Bei laughed and rose at once.
"Zizhong!"
Mi Zhu bowed deeply.
"My Lord."
Liu Bei pulled him inside almost forcibly and seated him. Seeing Mi Zhu's exhausted face, his smile softened.
"You've been overworking yourself."
Mi Zhu lowered his gaze.
"The fault of my criminal brother rests with me…"
"Mi Fang is an adult," Liu Bei interrupted firmly. "Enough of that."
He continued evenly:
"Before coming to East Wu, I ordered Chen Dao to watch him closely. He will be safe. Do you face any difficulties here?"
Mi Zhu swallowed his gratitude and produced a sealed letter from his sleeve.
"The twelve hundred scrolls of Zhuge Paper have all been sold. These are the accounts."
Liu Bei scanned them.
His eyes lit up.
Over one million coins.
As Mi Zhu continued, his tone shifted.
"As for the man you asked me to find… Lu Xun… there is still no trace of him."
Liu Bei's brow creased.
"No one by that name?"
Mi Zhu shook his head.
"The Lu clan is prominent, but suffered greatly during Yuan Shu's time. Their numbers are few."
He listed them carefully:
"Lu Jun, Commandant of Jiujiang.
Lu Kang, Administrator of Yulin.
Lu Yi, courtesy name Boyan, son of Lu Jun—currently a Colonel.
And Lu Mao, his younger brother."
Mi Zhu produced a detailed register.
Every male of the Lu clan.
Liu Bei's heart sank.
The family was small enough to count on one's fingers—yet Lu Xun, the man destined to burn his camps at Yiling, did not exist.
I should have asked Shiyuan, Liu Bei thought bitterly.
"Are you certain?" he asked aloud.
"I spent an entire month visiting them while selling paper," Mi Zhu replied. "Their offspring are few. No name is missing."
"Could he have changed his name?" Mi Zhu ventured. "Or perhaps the future records were mistaken?"
Liu Bei frowned.
Why would a noble change his name? Only taboo avoidance could justify it—but Sun Quan was destined for a long life.
Frustration mounted.
"What if I visit them personally?" Liu Bei suggested suddenly.
"Absolutely not!" Mi Zhu said, half laughing, half horrified. "Zhou Yu's funeral is still ongoing. Even Sun Quan's own men are keeping low. Your presence would draw suspicion immediately."
Liu Bei exhaled.
"What of Lü Meng, then?" he asked. "Is he truly just a brave fool?"
Mi Zhu hesitated.
"That… is something I investigated."
Liu Bei looked up.
"According to local accounts," Mi Zhu said slowly,
"Lü Meng is indeed fierce and prone to killing. However—since last year—his household has been purchasing classical texts and histories in large quantities."
"For his children?"
Mi Zhu shook his head.
"His sons are already thirteen or fourteen. Too old to begin formal study."
He met Liu Bei's gaze.
"It is for himself."
Liu Bei laughed.
"To begin studying at thirty… Who would have thought a butcher of men would become East Wu's Grand Commander?"
Then his expression cooled.
But he has already begun.
Too late.
Shi Ren had been demoted.
Mi Fang was under arrest.
A double-city fortress was rising at Jiangling.
"Lü Meng," Liu Bei murmured, eyes narrowing,
"let us see how you plan to cross the river in white robes now."