"March!"
Zhang Fei's voice thundered across the drill grounds like a crashing wave.
The soldiers, having finished their morning meal, began their slow eastward advance beneath the fading moon and scattered morning stars. Liu Feng turned for one last look at his Third Uncle—who, naturally, could not see him—then motioned for Mi Fang and Ma Su to keep pace with the column.
The three occupied an unusual position in the formation, neither vanguard nor rear, which afforded them the rare luxury of conversation.
"How far to Hanzhong?" Mi Fang groaned, already drenched in self-pity. He had never worked this hard in his life.
"Barely two hundred miles," Ma Su replied lightly. "Ten days, give or take. If you really can't walk anymore, I can teach you a trick."
Mi Fang eyed him suspiciously.
"See General Zhang up there?" Ma Su continued, enjoying himself. "Run up, grab his leg, and wail that you were wrong. Tell him the future 'you' is not the present 'you.' Maybe he'll feel merciful."
"And let him go back?" Liu Feng interjected, bewildered by the strange logic.
Ma Su smiled thinly. "Perhaps General Zhang will be merciful enough to beat him only half to death. Then he can stay behind to recover for half a month."
"At least I didn't actually desert," Mi Fang snapped.
By now, Ma Su had thoroughly grasped Mi Fang's temperament. He spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"Perhaps your elder brother feels it would have been better if you had."
Mi Fang's face flushed crimson clear to his ears. If Liu Feng hadn't grabbed his arm, he would have already lunged.
"Enough!" Liu Feng barked. "Do you both want to taste the staff together?"
The blunt promise of physical punishment finally silenced them.
---
Standing atop the temporary command platform, Zhang Fei watched the army below stretch forward like a living dragon. He turned his head slightly.
Pang Tong anticipated his thoughts.
"Does Yide worry whether these men will all return alive?"
Zhang Fei shook his head.
"I'm not that naive. Their situation is already far better than the Shu soldiers Liu Zhang gifted to Cao."
His gaze swept the sea of helmets. Some were men from Zhuo Commandery, some had followed him since Xuzhou, but most were from Jingzhou. They had crossed rivers and mountains with him to fight in Yizhou—and one day, many might lie buried on the plains of Guanzhong.
"I was thinking," Zhang Fei said slowly, "if the world is pacified and I'm still alive, I'll carve a great monument for these boys. And if I die first, then Big Brother can carve my name on it too."
He paused, then snorted softly.
"Not a fair trade, but it'll do. After all, even in that Song dynasty shown on the screen, they couldn't swear brotherhood without fighting a few wars and losing men first."
His lips twitched as if he might smile, but the expression never formed. When leading troops, Zhang Fei was a different man entirely. He stood there, burning the scene into his memory.
Moved, Pang Tong stepped beside him.
"My talents are limited," he said quietly, "but I will do everything in my power to keep General Zhang's men safe."
Behind them, Fa Zheng felt a faint stab of envy. The trust Pang Tong enjoyed was exactly what he sought.
Below the platform, Huo Jun called out, "General Zhang, I take my leave!"
Zhang Fei waved him onward. As commander-in-chief, he would move with the central army. These troops were only the vanguard.
Unlike Zhang Fei, who felt the crushing weight of responsibility, Huo Jun felt nothing but exhilaration. Since his brother Huo Du's death, he had believed Liu Biao's rule was doomed. Joining Liu Bei had been an easy choice.
From Jingzhou to Jiangzhou, from Baishui Pass to now—Liu Bei had trusted him without reservation. It felt as if his brother's unfulfilled ambitions were finally being realized through his own hands.
Fa Zheng asked with concern, "Any obstacles with grain transport?"
Pang Tong laughed lightly.
"With Kongming handling it, there's nothing to worry about."
Fa Zheng fell silent. That single name was enough. Before leaving Chengdu, he had witnessed firsthand the flawless order Kongming imposed upon the city.
---
Behind the Lines
"The Wooden Oxen and Flowing Horses we used entering Yizhou—were they not brought back to Chengdu?"
Liu Bei and Kongming stood inside the granaries, inspecting stored grain.
Kongming checked another line in his ledger and nodded.
"Shiyuan and I discussed it back in Jingzhou. After Langzhong was secured, he borrowed a general from you."
Liu Bei recalled at once.
"Chen Shi."
"He is steady and reliable," Kongming said. "While you were 'striding like a tiger' through Yizhou, Chen Shi followed Shiyuan's instructions and moved all transport devices to Jiameng Pass. He's there now, building more from the blueprints to prepare for Hanzhong."
Liu Bei nearly laughed at the phrase striding like a tiger, recalling how the screen had once described Xiahou Yuan. In that other history, Cao Cao held Hanzhong and left Xiahou Yuan to defend it—only for him to fall to Huang Zhong.
Now, with Zhang Lu still in control, the absence felt strange.
Still, Liu Bei felt reassured.
"The foresight of you and Shiyuan far surpasses mine."
"Yizhou and Hanzhong are one body," Kongming said casually. Whoever held Hanzhong could strike through Mount Qi or the Gallery Roads, exhausting Guanzhong's defenses. Lose it, and Yizhou's natural barriers ceased to exist.
Finishing the inspection, Liu Bei looked at the granary with quiet emotion.
"Liu Zhang was actually gentle with the people. Taxes here were only thirty percent—much like Jingzhou."
Kongming did not comment. Such abundance, wasted by a man who only sought the highest bidder.
"My Lord," Kongming asked, curious, "why do you have time to inspect grain with me today?"
Liu Bei hesitated.
At that moment, Zhang Song's voice rang outside.
"Counselor Kongming—Is the Lord here?"
Liu Bei stiffened. Kongming understood instantly and called back cheerfully,
"I haven't seen him! Perhaps he went to Dujiangyan again."
Zhang Song did not enter. He thanked them loudly and left.
Kongming turned with a teasing smile.
"Is this because of Lady Wu?"
Liu Bei sighed, pacing the granary.
"She is a pitiful woman. A physiognomist said she bore the signs of great nobility, so Liu Yan married her to his son Liu Mao. Liu Mao was chronically unstable—Liu Yan was gambling. The gamble failed. Liu Mao died in a fit last year."
Kongming grew quiet, sympathy stirring.
"And Zhang Song?" he asked.
"Zijiao acts out of concern for Yizhou's people," Liu Bei replied.
"Then why not accept?" Kongming teased. "Win over the gentry, settle the region."
Liu Bei continued checking the grain, indifferent on the surface.
"What great cause? Will they march north for me? Or attack Eastern Wu? If I must marry a Wu woman to pacify Yizhou, must I marry a Zhang or Ma woman when I take Hanzhong and Guanzhong?"
He chuckled.
"Besides, Zilong told me he's curious to see whose legs are faster on Chengdu's plains—my cavalry's or the gentry's sons."
Kongming laughed aloud. The Lord had changed. He no longer believed marriage alone could stabilize a land.
---
The "kind, round-faced" merchant traveled smoothly with Cao's army, passing Tong Pass and Luoyang. A quiet sadness settled in his heart. In these chaotic times, even Tong Pass was more prosperous than the former imperial capital.
"One torch from Dong Zhuo," he murmured, "and all that remains is ash."
Several days later, he reached Xuchang.
Putting on a servile smile, he thanked the captain he had bribed and slipped him two gold beads. The man grinned, tossing him a pass.
"This gets you through the outer city. Do your business quickly. Don't drag me into trouble."
The merchant melted into the crowd. Two days later, he carried a basket alone to the back door of a modest residence.
The doorman squinted.
"How did Old Zhang's nephew get so fat?"
The merchant smiled harmlessly.
"I'm filling in at the shop for two days. Zhang Tong will be back delivering fish later."
It sounded reasonable. The house belonged to a minor, forgotten official. The doorman waved him through and returned to his charcoal brazier.
Inside, the merchant heard someone reading aloud despite the early hour. He followed the sound and saw a thin, solitary figure.
After confirming no one watched, he whispered,
"Counselor Xu—have you been well?"
The reader froze. Slowly, he turned, revealing sharp features and a trace of a wandering swordsman's spirit. Confusion gave way to joy.
Suppressing his excitement, Xu Shu lowered his voice.
"Gongxi… why are you here? And how did you get so fat? Can you even fight like this?"
Dong Jue looked at him, eyes heavy with emotion. Only a few years had passed, yet it felt like decades.
"Counselor Xu… you've grown very thin."