Liu Bei was practically hauled back to his feet by his third brother.
"Brother, since when did you grow so tender?" ?!" Zhang Fei roared. "Adou's nature is soft—then we'll just drag him through more battles until he hardens up!"
When it came to things that genuinely interested him, Zhang Fei's memory was surprisingly sharp.
"Didn't the screen say it already? The Emperor guards the nation's gate! That suits Adou perfectly. Otherwise, even if we reclaim the old capital, what if he turns into that bird-brained Tang Emperor Yizong? That would be a real catastrophe!"
Liu Bei couldn't help recalling the earlier mention of Emperor Yizong—a ruler who lived in constant suspicion of the Return-to-Righteousness Army. Zhang Yichao had fought tooth and nail to reopen the Liangzhou corridor, only to be demoted in the end, while Hexi was lost, regained, and lost again like a toy passed between careless hands.
"General Yide speaks wisely," Pang Tong said, nodding in agreement. "The road to restoring the Han is long. After taking Hanzhong, we must look north to Yong and Liang Provinces, west to recover the Western Regions, and east to reclaim Guanzhong and the Central Plains."
The more he spoke, the brighter his eyes became.
"Jiangdong must be dealt with. The northern nomads as well. We should even cast our gaze toward Goryeo and the Wa islands. Beyond them lie the Southern Seas… and farther still, the land of Shendu."
Zhang Fei's eyes lit up like torches. He slapped a heavy hand onto Pang Tong's shoulder, nearly sending the strategist stumbling.
"The Military Counselor remembers it all! If I, Old Zhang, can finish even one of those tasks for my brother, I'll die without regrets!"
Pang Tong shot him a murderous glare, thoroughly unimpressed by this display of enthusiasm-by-brute-force.
The three men of Yizhou reacted very differently to this grand vision.
Zhang Song looked ecstatic, his eyes burning with the zeal of a man convinced he had chosen the right master. Fa Zheng felt a deep, quiet awe—his lord had risen from nothing, yet harbored ambitions vast enough to swallow the world. He, Fa Xiaozhi, would follow him every step of the way.
Liu Ba merely rubbed the scroll tucked into his sleeve, reflecting on the three years he had wandered after leaving Jingzhou, only to end up… exactly where he had begun.
Zhuge Liang, however, felt a lingering trace of guilt over Adou having been "raised to ruin." His thoughts drifted to the Rules for Emperors. If a "Peerless Emperor" had truly written a guide on governance, it would surely be worth studying.
Then another thought surfaced.
Once Shu is stabilized, the first priority must be a School of Medicine.
Setting aside the mysterious "wasting thirst," Zhuge Liang's gaze lingered on Fa Zheng and Liu Ba. Too many brilliant men were dying young. It was unnatural. Even if they could never reach the godlike medical achievements of the future, he felt compelled to establish a proper medical discipline—if only to prevent such premature deaths.
[Lightscreen]
[ Nobles and royalty are far removed from ordinary life. So here's a classic question:
If you had to be a commoner during the Three Kingdoms, which state would you choose?
First, a harsh truth must be acknowledged: the Three Kingdoms was an age of chaos. A line from the Yuan dynasty play The Ghost in the Boudoir sums it up perfectly—
Better to be a dog in times of peace than a man in times of war.
Choosing a state in the Three Kingdoms is really just choosing the least miserable option.
In Shu Han, life was comparatively straightforward. Zhuge Liang's administration—irrigation, salt and iron monopolies, law, and agriculture—created a solid foundation.
When Eastern Jin general Huan Wen conquered Shu, he encountered a centenarian who had once been a minor clerk under the Chancellor. Curious, Huan Wen asked how Zhuge Liang compared to the leaders of his own time.
The old man replied simply:
"When Lord Zhuge was here, we didn't realize how good life was. Since his passing, we've never seen his equal again."
This tells us that living standards in Shu declined only gradually after the Chancellor's death. His successors, Jiang Wan and Fei Yi, adhered strictly to his policies. Even Adou's "otaku" lifestyle with his eunuchs caused limited damage to the people.
On the eve of Shu's fall, Xue Xu of Eastern Wu visited and reported that "the people's faces were the color of vegetables."
Note—vegetable-colored, not starving. They weren't eating well, but they weren't collapsing either.
So… was life in Wu any better?
Quite the opposite.
By almost any measure, Eastern Wu offered the worst living conditions for commoners—eerily similar to ancient India.
Before the Battle of Yiling, Luo Tong submitted a memorial describing what he saw: war and plague had emptied the countryside. Fields lay abandoned. Widows, orphans, the elderly, and the disabled filled the villages. Able-bodied men were nowhere to be found.
Poor families and soldier-farmers were often forced to drown their own children. Labor conscription was relentless. The destitute were worked like beasts, and anyone with savings bankrupted themselves bribing officials to avoid service.
Further evidence comes from the "Wu Slips" unearthed at Zoumalou.
Jiangdong society was rigidly hierarchical. Beyond the Sun family and the Four Great Clans, commoners were divided into four grades: Top, Middle, Lower, and Below Lower.
If you were in the bottom two grades and couldn't pay taxes, the solution was simple:
Become a slave.
The Wu Slips record lifelong forced labor—serving officials, guarding districts, working as smiths or granary keepers. Once registered, you could never leave. No refusal. No end date.
To modern eyes, this looks strikingly like India's caste system.
Ancient India had the Varna system:
Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, Shudras—and below them, the Untouchables.
Because of this system, invaders could pass through the Khyber Pass for centuries, yet the social structure never collapsed.
One might even jokingly speculate that Sun Quan's mother placed him in the Ganges, where he floated across the seas and up the Yangtze to become Jiangdong's chosen one. His blue eyes and purple beard must be proof he's the "Son of the Sun" from Hindu legend!
(Of course, that's just a joke. Lord Zhongmou, please don't take offense in the afterlife.)
But jokes aside—if you were a lower-grade commoner in Jiangdong, your life was unquestionably the most miserable of the Three Kingdoms.
And these people were not few. In the Zoumalou records, the "Top Grade" never appears. The "Middle Grade" appears once. Every other entry is Lower or Below Lower—serving lifelong sentences.]
The Tang ministers felt their horizons expanding.
"This Indian… 'caste system,'" Li Shimin said slowly, adopting the screen's terminology. "What exactly is it?"
Du Ruhui, scholarly curiosity alight, quickly wrote down the four levels and the outcasts, passing the paper around.
"'Varna' sounds like a transliteration. 'Caste' must be the future's summary. A barbaric system indeed. No wonder the region endured countless wars—such a structure could last a thousand years."
Fang Xuanling frowned at the later jokes. "This Hinduism—named after the land itself. Does that mean India is ruled by faith rather than a king? Then… what of Buddhism?"
Zhangsun Wuji pondered. "If priests commune with the divine, these Brahmins must be like Your Majesty—speaking with heaven's authority. The others follow logically."
As for the Untouchables… no explanation was needed.
Li Shimin's gaze lingered on the name Khyber Pass. What a clumsy name.
One day, I'll give it a proper one.
"A system that values birth over talent is the opposite of Tang," he said. "No wonder India was conquered again and again. If the people have no will to fight and the soldiers no resolve to defend the state, how can victory be theirs?"
Still, he reflected privately—it was hard to say which caste even counted as "the people." But the advantage was obvious.
Conquest came cheap.
A perfect soft persimmon to squeeze.
He noticed Hou Junji's and Yuchi Jingde's eyes gleaming. Even Zhangsun Wuji looked tempted.
"If only they sealed that pass," Li Shimin mused. "Block the Khyber, and you could sleep soundly in India forever."
Du Ruhui added, "From future troop movements… might there also be a route through the 'Himalayas'?"
Zhangsun Wuji shook his head. "The future has many extraordinary means."
Li Shimin nodded decisively. "Select a clever man. Give him elite guards. Have them carry sugar and pose as merchants. Let them scout Tibet—if there's a shortcut to India, the Tibetans will know."
The matter was set aside.
Li Shimin finally allowed himself a chuckle at the screen's mockery of Sun Quan. Compared to the so-called "Son of the Sun," he felt quite well-treated by posterity. At least no one claimed he floated over from India.
Back in Yizhou, the men stared in awe at the old clerk's evaluation of Zhuge Liang.
"Such a reputation… even after death?" someone whispered.
Zhang Fei puffed out his chest. "That's nothing! The people of Shu built the Wuhou Shrine for the Military Counselor. Incense has burned there for a thousand years!"
Liu Bei, Pang Tong, Zhao Yun, and Mi Zhu all nodded vigorously, pride swelling in their chests.
Zhang Fei added casually, "The Counselor is even enshrined alongside my brother. Though officially it's the Zhaolie Temple, everyone just calls it the Wuhou Shrine. That shows where the people's hearts truly lie."
Liu Bei's expression stiffened.
He shot Zhang Fei a sideways glance. "Baishui Pass is secure with Zhongmiao guarding it. Yide, why don't you stay in Chengdu for half a month? Once the canal dredging is finished, you may return to your post."
Zhang Fei scratched his head. His brother had been strangely moody lately. Still, he nodded obediently.
To ease the awkwardness, Zhang Song quickly spoke up.
"Since Kongming the Sleeping Dragon received the posthumous title 'Loyal and Martial,' surely Shiyuan, the Fledgling Phoenix—his equal—must also be immortalized in history, right?"
All eyes turned to Pang Tong.
He opened his mouth.
No sound came out.
He looked exactly like a fish flopping on dry land.