If one were to ask what regret Guan Yu held toward Jiangling City—
It would be this:
Years of blood and sweat, handed over in a single morning.
An unrivaled fortress under heaven.
Thirty thousand elite troops who had surrendered under Yu Jin.
And yet Lü Meng took it without losing a single soldier—
and with that, vaulted himself into the ranks of the great commanders.
Zhu Ran used it to shake Cao Wei.
Sun Quan used it to block Cao Pi to the north.
Every time Guan Yu thought of it, a tightness rose in his chest.
And so, every time he looked east, anticipation followed close behind.
Come.
Come and see what Jiangling looks like in Guan Yu's hands.
While Guan Yu and Zhao Lei stood atop the city walls, lost in thought,
inside a roadside eatery, Zhao A patted his belly in satisfaction.
Satisfied—
and also in pain.
Lamb was truly delicious.
And truly expensive.
He winced at the copper coins he'd spent, and for a moment couldn't even decide where he should go next.
In the end, he followed the example of the other customers, ordered a cup of tea, and sat there slowly sipping it, killing time.
The feeling was new to him.
With his parents long gone and no wife to speak of, before Old Li arrived, Zhao A's favorite pastime had been lying on the ridge between fields, basking in the sun.
After Old Li came, his favorite pastime became lying on that same ridge, listening to Old Li tell stories.
But after hearing enough of them, even stories grew dull.
Cao soldiers cutting heads for merit.
Bullies abusing their power.
Villagers fleeing at the mere mention of Cao.
In the end, it was always the same few tales.
Now, sitting here, Zhao A suddenly felt that perhaps Old Li's past life had been like this too.
At that moment, the shopkeeper called out loudly to an elderly man who had just entered:
"Uncle Qian! Brought your grandson again?"
Uncle Qian nodded with reserved pride.
"My wife ran off to the waterworks again—said she's learning some kind of water-powered loom. Figured we'd eat out today."
The shopkeeper, clearly familiar with them, quickly led the grandfather and grandson to their seats and called toward the kitchen.
The small pride that had just risen in Zhao A's heart sank straight back down.
So what if he was like Old Li?
In the end, he still wasn't a local.
A vague thought quietly took shape in his mind:
If only I could become a Jiangling native…
But it was probably nothing more than wishful thinking.
Zhao A had eyes—he could see Jiangling's prosperity clearly enough.
Even with his limited experience, he could guess that land and housing prices here must be far higher than back in Zigui.
The food for Uncle Qian's table arrived quickly.
As they ate, Uncle Qian's mouth never stopped moving:
"Once you know how to read, you must keep learning. Don't end up like your father—illiterate, forced into soldiering, earning only five hundred coins a month!"
"Look at that Wu fellow next door—he knows maybe fifty characters, and now he's apprenticing as a papermaker. Next year…"
Without realizing it, Zhao A tilted his ear toward them.
He couldn't read either.
Did that mean he could join the army too?
But then—there was still land back in Zigui…
Zhao A shook his head slightly.
Maybe he should go back and discuss it with Old Li.
While Guan Yu steadily gathered strength in Jiangling,
the fires in Yi Province were already beginning to burn hotter.
Zhao Zhuo still held the title of Administrator of Jiangzhou,
but by now he had been staying in Langzhong for quite some time.
Yan Yan had changed back into the military garb he knew best and had been recruited by Liu Bei as a subordinate general.
"In the sixth year of Jian'an," Yan Yan said,
"Pang Xi already harbored thoughts of suppressing 'rebels.'"
As a local, Yan Yan understood Yi Province far better than Pang Tong.
"At the time, Pang Xi demanded tribal troops from Cheng Yu. Cheng Ji stopped him. Without soldiers, Pang Xi had no choice but to go to Chengdu and beg Liu Zhang for forgiveness."
"After Pang Xi apologized, Liu Zhang changed Ba Commandery into Baxi Commandery."
Liu Bei's interest was immediately piqued.
"Cheng Ji?"
Yan Yan didn't know why his lord cared about that name, but he answered truthfully.
"At the time, Cheng Ji was Magistrate of Hanchang. Because he persuaded Pang Xi to surrender, he was promoted to Administrator of Jiangyang."
"Jiangyang lies two hundred li upriver from Jiangzhou. Even sailing upstream, it takes only two days."
Go or not?
Liu Bei knew this name well.
One of the Fourteen Civil Officials enshrined in the Zhaolie Temple.
At Yiling, he died at Ma'an Mountain alongside Fu Rong, covering the retreat.
In that case—
Of course he would go.
"General Yan, prepare a ship. I wish to visit this worthy man in Jiangyang."
"My lord, Cheng Ji was personally promoted by Liu Zhang—"
Yan Yan tried to argue further, but Liu Bei waved him off.
"Just prepare the ship."
Yan Yan left reluctantly, feeling more and more that this lord of his might one day still need an old general like him to fight to the death to save the situation.
Nearby, Pang Tong, busy with documents, smiled and clasped his hands.
"I congratulate my lord in advance—two days from now, you'll be sleeping knee to knee with Cheng Ji in Jiangyang."
Liu Bei shook his head, not taking the teasing to heart.
"Chengdu still needs your attention, Shiyuan."
Pang Tong waved it off easily.
"My lord need only go in peace."
Recently, Pang Tong felt that within Shu, there was simply no one who could even exchange a single blow with him.
As Governor of Yi Province, Liu Zhang was not lacking in advisers.
The problem was that he was Liu Jiyu.
Either like Fa Zheng—unvalued, disheartened, content to watch from the sidelines.
Or like Liu Ba—earnestly advising, only to be ignored completely.
Pang Xi was even simpler.
With Zhao Zhuo returning to Langzhong and backing him fully as a member of the Zhao clan, Pang Xi suddenly realized:
I've stood up! Langzhong still loves me as its administrator!
And so Zhao Zhuo officially became Pang Xi's most trusted strategist.
Pang Tong chuckled softly as he sorted the intelligence reports.
Judging by the timing, when his lord returned, it would be about time to head back to Gong'an.
And the next time Pang Tong came to Jiangzhou—
It would be to seize Chengdu for his lord.
At the end of July, in Gong'an County, Kongming arrived first as usual.
Guan Yu followed shortly after—after all, Jiangling was close.
With the navy and the giant ships progressing smoothly, even Kongming's face showed a rare, unmistakable smile.
They had barely spoken for long when Zhang Fei's booming voice came charging in:
"Did Big Brother get delayed again?!"
"Yide, wait patiently," Kongming said.
Guan Yu felt that even Guan Ping caused him less worry than this third brother.
Then he noticed Zhang Fei's hands were full.
"What's all that?"
Wiping sweat from his brow, Zhang Fei set down a large jug.
"Sour plum drink. Candied fruit."
Guan Yu was genuinely pleased.
"Third Brother, you're thoughtful."
Huang Yueying arrived as usual with several sketches still under study.
Jian Yong and Mi Zhu came together, just as Ma Liang arrived with Jiang Wan.
"General Zhang," Ma Liang asked cautiously,
"Ma Su didn't desert at Linju, did he?"
He wanted to ask about his younger brother, but ended up forcing an excuse instead.
"No problem," Zhang Fei said confidently.
"Once you enter Zhang Fei's camp—violent and without mercy—how easy do you think it is to leave?"
Kongming added calmly:
"Linju is remote. Cao does not watch it. Jiangdong does not probe it. Even if someone like Ma Mi wished to trade light-screen knowledge for wealth, they would not escape Yide's grasp."
Ma Liang and Mi Zhu nodded. They had thought the same.
Soon after, Huang Zhong, Wei Yan, and the others arrived. Drinking sour plum juice and eating candied fruit, the hall was filled with easy laughter.
When Pang Tong entered with Liu Bei, they found everyone smiling at them.
Zhang Fei called out loudly:
"Military Advisor Pang, regret not coming back last time, huh?"
Pang Tong ignored him and sat beside his lord.
Zhang Fei wasn't done.
"Military Advisor Pang! That Sleepless Chang'an last time—now that was something!"
Pang Tong felt a vein twitch on his forehead.
Thankfully, Liu Bei intervened.
"Yide, enough."
Zhang Fei grinned.
"Big Brother, this sour plum's from black plums Feng'er gathered in the mountains. He learned the method from the Linju locals—made it himself."
Liu Bei's expression softened. He took a sip.
"Sweet and sour. Very refreshing. Late July heat—this is exactly what one should drink."
Liu Bei briefed Pang Tong on Yi Province, while Guan Yu spoke of Jiangdong's movements.
Liu Bei frowned slightly.
"If that's the case, should we delay Yi Province and secure Jiangdong first?"
"Why?" Guan Yu shook his head.
"Jing Province will not fall. Brother must not delay the Yi campaign and waste Military Advisor Pang's efforts."
Liu Bei nodded, accepting this.
And just then—
The light-screen unfolded in midair, right on time.
[Light-screen]
[Hello everyone, this is Wen Mang.
Today we're interrupting regular programming with an important update: the Zhuozhou floods.]
No dazzling ancient capitals appeared this time.
Instead, a city ravaged by disaster.
Yellow-brown floodwaters surged through streets meant for peaceful lives.
People of later generations clung helplessly to higher ground, while those small boxes that once raced along roads now drifted uselessly in the flood.
Liu Bei and Zhang Fei went pale.
Though a thousand years had passed, these were still their people.
Perhaps these people's ancestors had once drunk wine with them, lived beside them.
"Run!" Guan Yu blurted out.
As his brother's homeland, it was also his own.
And as a man from Hedong, he knew the terror of floods all too well.
[Light-screen]
[At the end of July, due to the combined effects of cold and warm air currents and Typhoon Doksuri, northern Hebei experienced extreme rainfall.
Zhuozhou recorded an average of 398 millimeters—far exceeding the 250-millimeter threshold for the highest level of torrential rain.
As a result, the Beijuma River peaked at 4,500 cubic meters per second, while the Liuli and Xiaoqing Rivers exceeded 3,000.
For comparison, the Yellow River's average flow is 2,500 cubic meters per second.]
Though some details were unclear, Pang Tong quickly calculated the meaning.
"That's equivalent to being struck by three Yellow Rivers at once."
Liu Bei and Zhang Fei's throats tightened. They couldn't look away.
In their understanding, such a flood meant—
[Light-screen]
[But just as with the massive earthquakes and floods we've endured before,
the government and the People's Liberation Army remain our strongest support.]
The rain on the screen had not stopped.
But figures in green uniforms were already moving into the disaster zone.
Boxy steel giants surged forward like dragons, cleaving through waves.
They did not turn their backs on the flood.
They faced it head-on.
With fragile human bodies, they stood against heaven itself—
rescuing every life they could.
Liu Bei stood frozen, disbelief and joy in his eyes.
Zhang Fei blurted out, stunned:
"Aren't they afraid of dying?"
Guan Yu remembered the name—
and the discipline he'd learned of them through the light-screen,
and their iron will in that war against America.
He murmured softly:
"Perhaps… they always place the people above their own lives."
Natural disasters were always meant to be spoken of.
Since it appeared—
There was no need to avoid it.