Along with Liu Zhang's official letter, another missive departed Jiangzhou.
This one was written by Pang Tong himself.
Did Pang Tong and Pang Xi actually have any relationship?
Strictly speaking—no.
But Pang Tong had always believed that relationships were things one could manufacture. Pang Xi was from Henan. Henan could, with a generous stretch of the map, be counted as part of Jingzhou's cultural sphere. Since both men shared the surname Pang, that alone was enough to turn strangers into "kinsmen."
Once you called someone "brother," half the work was already done.
From atop Jiangzhou's city wall, Zhao Yun watched the courier disappear into the distance. The sound of hooves faded, but the question in his heart did not.
"Is Liu Zhang really not worried," Zhao Yun asked, "that once our lord defeats Pang Xi, he'll simply keep the troops and declare independence?"
"Of course he's not worried," Pang Tong replied calmly.
He didn't even pause.
"Because we have no grain."
Zhao Yun stopped walking.
"…That's it?"
"That's everything."
They descended from the walls and wandered through the city streets. As they walked, Pang Tong casually untangled the political mess of Shu as if sorting knotted fishing lines.
"When Zhao Wei rebelled, Ba Commandery was split in three—Ba, Yongning, and Guling," Pang Tong said. "Later, Yongning was renamed Ba, Guling became Ba East, and the original Ba became Ba West."
Zhao Yun nodded slowly. "The people of Shu care deeply about the name 'Ba.'"
"Obsessively," Pang Tong said. "That's why they kept renaming everything. A prefecture without 'Ba' in its title feels illegitimate to them."
Zhao Yun recalled something. "Pang Xi is currently Ba West's Grand Administrator."
"Exactly."
"Was Ba West originally Ba Commandery?"
Pang Tong tugged Zhao Yun toward a tea stall, tossed ten coins at the vendor, and sat down with a long sigh.
"That," he said, "is where the filth begins."
He leaned back and spoke leisurely.
"Back then, Liu Yan had ambitions that didn't sit well under the Han. So he sent Zhang Lu and Zhang Xiu to attack Hanzhong—not to conquer it, but to sever the mountain roads. Cut Shu off from the court."
Zhao Yun's expression hardened. "The Hanzhong governor at the time was Su Gu. A loyal servant of the Han."
"Yes," Pang Tong said, lifting the rough teacup. "Which is why he died."
He drank. The tea was coarse and bitter. After several gulps, his lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Zhang Lu's mother," Pang Tong said lightly, "was fond of preserving her youth. She still had some looks left. And she visited Liu Yan's residence… often."
That one sentence was enough.
Zhao Yun understood immediately.
"Liu Zhang found it shameful," Pang Tong continued. "In the fifth year of Jian'an, he killed Zhang Lu's mother and younger brother. Zhang Lu retaliated, allied with Du Huo, Pu Hu, and Yuan Yue, and rebelled."
"And Pang Xi?" Zhao Yun asked.
"Ordered to suppress them. Failed." Pang Tong shrugged. "So in the sixth year, they renamed the commanderies again. New names, same rot."
Pang Tong drained the tea and set the cup down.
"The chaos of Yi Province comes from one root," he said flatly.
"Liu Yan abandoned the heart of a Han official."
"When the master behaves like a bandit," Pang Tong continued, "subordinates learn quickly. Zhao Wei followed suit. Then came Liu Jiyu—rash enough to kill Zhang Lu's family, weak enough to provoke Gan Ning's rebellion."
"And Pang Xi and Li Yi?" Zhao Yun asked.
"Rats," Pang Tong said, smiling thinly. "Fighting over scraps of authority."
The smile sharpened.
"A nest of Han traitors. Every last one."
Zhao Yun said nothing. He finished his tea in silence.
By May, Jiangzhou was already sweltering. The heat pressed down like wet cloth, thick and suffocating. Pang Tong rose and lit a lamp.
He intended to write Liu Zhang another letter.
A lord who was simple-minded and stubborn was a gift. Pang Tong would have felt ashamed of his own ink if he didn't prod such a man a little more.
The letter was finished by dawn.
Pang Tong stretched, then froze.
Someone was standing behind him.
He startled—then broke into a grin.
"My lord! When did you return? How long have you been standing there?"
Liu Bei laughed warmly. "Since Shiyuan began advising Liu Jiyu to send more grain—so we can better suppress his 'rebellious' generals."
"..."
"Shiyuan," Liu Bei said, clapping his shoulder, "you are truly a great talent."
Pang Tong's embarrassment eased only slightly.
Liu Bei then spoke of the north.
"Han Sui has allied with Zhang Heng, Liang Xing, and others. They claim a force of one hundred thousand. After forming the alliance, they invited Ma Chao. They're now stalemated with Zhong Yao and Xiahou Yuan at Tong Pass."
"A hundred thousand men," Liu Bei muttered. "How could they lose to Cao Cao?"
Guanzhong was their home ground. Veterans of countless campaigns. With proper coordination, Liu Bei felt even he—or better yet, Guan Yu—could march to Xuchang before year's end.
Pang Tong laughed and pointed at the letter on the desk.
"What's difficult about it?"
"If Han and Ma share one heart, Guanzhong is unbreakable. If they harbor suspicion, Cao Cao will break them apart piece by piece."
Liu Bei sighed. He could only hope his earlier letter to Ma Chao would matter.
He then pulled a thin booklet from his sleeve.
"Shiyuan. The light-screen notes."
Pang Tong's eyes lit up. Ignoring his exhaustion, he took it and knelt by the desk.
"The First Northern Expedition…" he murmured. "Seize Longyou, cut the Hexi Corridor, threaten Guanzhong. This is the only path to the Mandate."
"Jiang Wei of Tianshui?" Pang Tong frowned. "So this is him… Tianshui is not easy to take."
He turned the page.
Then slammed the desk.
"Ma Su should be killed!"
He slapped the table again.
"Killing him still wouldn't be enough! Even if he dies, Jieting is lost forever!"
He scoffed at Shiting, sneered at the memorials—then froze at the mention of the Book of Jin.
But one grievance burned hotter than all others.
"Where," Pang Tong asked slowly, "are the drawings of Eternal Chang'an?"
Liu Bei scratched his head. "Too difficult to copy. Ma Liang and Jiang Wan didn't redraw them. But we all saw them."
Pang Tong stood there, crushed by immediate regret.
Liu Bei was exhausted from travel, so the two slept side by side. Between drowsy breaths, Liu Bei spoke of Ma Su's fate, Jiangling's navy, Gan Ning's elite guards. Pang Tong explained the trap being laid for Pang Xi.
Their voices faded into snoring. A servant quietly closed the door.
When Liu Bei awoke, it was already afternoon. Pang Tong was gone.
After washing, Liu Bei headed east.
Jiangzhou was blessed terrain—three rivers converging, clear and muddy waters swirling together. After a quarter hour's walk, farmland stretched before him.
A scholar was working the soil.
"Zhao Zuo of Langzhong!" Liu Bei called. "Have you been well?"
"By the grace of Governor Liu," Zhao Zuo shouted back, "I'm somehow still alive!"
They laughed and sat on the ridge.
Rice grew strong. Villagers weeded and caught pests. Behind them, a water mill was taking shape—craftsmen and peasants working together.
"Does Governor Zhao still wish only to farm?" Liu Bei asked.
Zhao Zuo hesitated.
He had sworn to die with the city. Instead, Liu Bei had come—teaching farming, building mills, never harassing the people.
A good lord, Zhao Zuo thought bitterly.
"Do you know Pang Xi?" Liu Bei asked.
"I've met him," Zhao Zuo said. "Langzhong is under Ba West."
"I need you to visit him."
Zhao Zuo froze—then steadied himself.
"I dare not call it a favor," he said. "Speak your command."
"Go to Pang Xi."
Zhao Zuo nodded. "But I ask one thing. Please visit General Yan Yan."
Liu Bei laughed and seized his arm. "Gladly!"
Yan Yan—the stubborn defender of Jiangzhou.
"He is loyal to Liu Zhang," Zhao Zuo said, sighing. "But he loves the people, loves his soldiers, and knows Shu's terrain better than anyone. Win him, and you gain a pillar."
"I will not fail you," Liu Bei promised.
Zhao Zuo drank his tea and bowed.
"I should leave at once."
As he rode away, peace settled in his chest.
Shu had been suffocating since Liu Yan's arrival.
Now, at last, it could breathe again.
And soon, Zhao Zuo believed, Liu Jingzhou would no longer be called that.
He would be Liu Yizhou.
The scholars of Shu had waited far too long for this breath of life.