Pang Tong's joke wasn't particularly funny—but it hit its mark precisely. Like tapping a cracked bell, it broke the heavy, oppressive mood lingering in the hall.
Soft laughter rippled outward.
Zhuge Liang accepted the handkerchief his wife, Huang Yueying, offered him and gently wiped the corners of his eyes. The faint redness remained, betraying him despite his composure. He smiled helplessly and said, half to himself,
"That… was the Chancellor of Shu-Han, Zhuge Liang."
"I am the Military Advisor General under my Lord's command, Zhuge Liang!"
The response came almost in perfect unison.
For a brief moment, the dignity of the court collapsed entirely. The hall erupted in laughter.
Kongming shook his head, the smile on his lips thin but genuine. He did not offer further clarification. Titles were for the future; in this hall, he was still simply a servant of Shu. Yet the warmth in his chest refused to fade.
Words carry intent. Script preserves emotion.
Across centuries, across dynasties, people who had never met him worried about whether he slept, whether he ate, whether he worked himself to death.
That concern was real. And it reached him.
Jian Yong stretched lazily, legs nearly kicking over a low table, and grinned. "Kongming, you really must cherish your body. Look at our Lord—defeat after defeat, yet he's past sixty and still standing. You, on the other hand, held the power of the state in your hands and managed to exhaust yourself to death at fifty-four."
The hall hummed again with awkward laughter.
The topic of health—dangerous territory.
Kongming coughed lightly, embarrassed. "Lately, with Shiyuan assisting me, I haven't stayed up late working for months."
Pang Tong shot him a look that clearly said: Do not drag me into this.
Still, the tension finally eased.
This man, praised by the future as the embodiment of wisdom—was his intellect merely equal to Zhang Liang's?
No.
It surpassed him.
The light-screen shimmered once more.
[Light-screen]
["In the year 223, the year following the Battle of Yiling, Liu Bei passed away at Baidi Castle. The state of Shu-Han stood on the brink of collapse."]
["After the deaths of his second and third brothers, Liu Bei wagered his aging body on one final defiance of fate. He lost everything. Though he wished to rise again, his strength failed him. He passed away with regret in the third year of Zhangwu."]
The hall fell still.
Liu Bei's fingers tightened unconsciously around the armrest.
["After his death, Liu Shan ascended the throne. Zhuge Liang was granted the title Marquis of Wuxiang and the authority to open his own office. The following year, he assumed the post of Governor of Yizhou. History records: 'All matters, great and small, were decided by Liang.'"]
["The entrustment at Baidi. The surrender of power by Liu Shan. The regrets, dreams, pressures, and responsibilities of a shattered land and a destitute people—all became a mountain pressing upon Zhuge Liang's shoulders."]
["From that moment, the Chancellor carried Shu-Han on his back and began his rule."]
The screen dimmed slightly.
Jiang Wan spoke softly, almost unconsciously, reciting words not yet written in his time:
"The empire is divided into three. Yizhou is weary and exhausted. This truly is a moment of life and death."
Liu Bei closed his eyes.
Pang Tong, ever practical, shook his head as he pieced it together aloud. "Military strength cut in half. Treasury emptied. And as the screen hinted earlier—the southern territories must have erupted in rebellion amid the chaos. This wasn't exaggeration."
He looked around.
"No soldiers. No grain. No money."
A dead end.
"How does one solve that?"
The light-screen answered.
[Light-screen]
["The first crisis the Chancellor faced was a lack of funds. Yiling had drained Shu completely. Yet even before Liu Bei passed, an 'invisible war' had already begun to take shape in Zhuge Liang's mind."]
["To fight this war, he needed a weapon."]
["In the stormy year of 223, he issued the 'Decree on Silk': 'The people are poor, the state is empty. The resources to defeat the enemy rely solely on our silk.'"]
The hall exchanged puzzled looks.
Silk?
["At the time, no one understood. Surrounded by enemies, silk could neither be eaten nor drunk. What use was it?"]
Liu Bei looked genuinely confused.
Pang Tong frowned deeply, his mind racing. If this is Kongming's plan… I should be able to grasp it.
Only Mi Zhu, remembering the earlier broadcast's mention of a "Currency War," felt a faint spark of comprehension.
Zhang Fei, incapable of subtlety, chose the straightest path. He stared directly at Zhuge Liang.
"Military Advisor, we have no food and no money. What good is weaving silk?"
Kongming chuckled softly. "Yide, just keep watching."
[Light-screen]
["While issuing the decree, the Chancellor established the office of the 'Silk Official.' Like salt and iron, silk became a state monopoly. It could only be purchased in government markets."]
["And what currency was accepted in those markets? The 'Value-Hundred' coins created by Liu Ba."]
["For the people of Shu, nothing changed. But for the Chancellor, the snare was complete."]
["In 224, Deng Zhi was dispatched to Eastern Wu to negotiate peace. This was the signal—the war had begun."]
Zhang Fei's eyes lit up. "I get it now! We trade silk for their grain!"
Pang Tong immediately shook his head. "Too simple."
The light-screen agreed.
[Light-screen]
["Peace negotiations succeeded. Wu opened its borders. Their merchants flooded into Shu, desperate for silk."]
["But they soon discovered they could only purchase silk using 'Value-Hundred' coins."]
["Where were they to obtain these coins? Shu made a simple offer: 'Bring us your grain. Exchange it for our coins. Then use our coins to buy our silk.'"]
["Confused but desperate, Wu's merchants complied."]
["Why? Because demand for Shu silk in Wu and Wei was astronomical. High-ranking ladies—even Empresses—required it for court attire. It was a luxury no one could refuse."]
["Thus, grain and wealth flowed into Shu without a single arrow loosed. In this invisible war, the Chancellor harvested the enemy's resources to refill his own treasury."]
["Shu stepped back from the cliff's edge."]
Mi Zhu inhaled sharply.
"Divine strategy…"
By controlling silk and currency simultaneously, Shu exchanged a single coin's worth of copper for a hundredfold return. Wu's copper drained into Shu's coffers; Shu's granaries filled with enemy grain.
Liu Bei still looked dazed.
Pang Tong sighed and translated mercilessly. "My Lord, think of it like the salt monopoly. Shu sets the price. Unless the nobles of Wu and Wei decide to stop wearing clothes, they have no choice but to pay."
Liu Bei: "…Ah."
[Light-screen]
["The Chancellor did not stop there."]
["He established 'Dam Officials'—1,200 men assigned solely to maintaining the Dujiangyan irrigation system."]
["Even in wartime, the fields of Chengdu remained fertile. This system was so effective it was adopted by dynasties for the next thousand years."]
["He improved salt production through Fire Wells, doubling output. He appointed a 'Metal General' to reform iron smelting, producing sharper weapons and stronger farming tools."]
["With grain and funds secured, the Chancellor turned south."]
["The Nanzhong rebellion, simmering since Liu Bei's death, erupted fully. In 225, Zhuge Liang marched. By December, he had returned to Chengdu."]
["He was in a hurry."]
["A Northern Expedition awaited."]
[Light-screen: Bullet Chat]
[V0id_Stalker]: 〖The 'Silk War' is peak economic warfare. He made the enemy pay for their own defeat.〗
[Nitro_Trigger]: 〖A thousand years of irrigation planning. That's not governance—that's civilization engineering.〗
[History_Nerd]: 〖The southern campaign was basically a tutorial mission. He cleared it fast so he could focus on the Northern Expedition.〗
[Li_Shimin ]: 〖A rare talent. To manage salt and iron while never losing sight of the Central Plains… I envy Shu.〗
Silence.
The generals were stunned by the speed of conquest.
The civil officials were stunned by the scale of governance.
"To benefit the land for a thousand years…" Jiang Wan whispered. Only now did he truly understand why future generations still burned incense for the Marquis of Wuxiang.
Pang Tong felt the weight of eyes slowly drifting toward him.
Crouching Dragon.
If this was the Crouching Dragon—
Then what, exactly, was the Phoenix Fledgling supposed to be?
He pretended not to notice, muttering inwardly, This isn't fair. How am I meant to compete with a man who invents a thousand years of history in his spare time?
Zhuge Liang, however, was no longer listening.
He stared at the light-screen, brow furrowed.
"They say the south will rebel again," he murmured. "If we only suppress them, we are merely pulling weeds."
His fingers tightened around the feather fan.
"They will grow back."
A pause.
"There must be… a better way."