Although matters in Jingzhou could be decided with a single word from Guan Yu, the mobilization of the naval troops and warships still required time.
Yet once orders began rolling out one after another, even the small-time vendors at Jiangling's docks—those carrying rattan baskets and hawking odds and ends—could sense that something was off.
"This is already the ninth warship that's passed today," someone muttered. "Don't tell me we're going to war again?"
For people living in chaotic times, arriving at such a conclusion was only natural.
When survival was on the line, the dockside crowd immediately gathered, buzzing with anxious chatter.
"Zhou Lang is dead," someone said. "If Cao the bandit comes south again, how are we supposed to stop him?"
"If we can't stop him, we still have to try," another replied. "Unless you're planning to flee all the way to Jiaozhou?"
"Jiaozhou?" someone scoffed. "That place is full of poisonous miasma and bugs. I'm not going to suffer there. Besides… maybe Cao's army isn't that bad?"
That suggestion was instantly met with laughter from the merchants.
"They don't even let you use currency properly up north," one sneered. "How could that possibly be good?"
Although trade between north and south was officially forbidden, merchants always had their own shadowy routes. Nearly half the silk traded here ultimately found its way north through various channels, exchanged for hefty profits.
For merchants like these, falling under Chancellor Cao's rule was hardly good news.
The first vendor lowered his voice and said, "Well… maybe General Guan can win?"
Someone snorted. "Hah! At Red Cliff, it was the fire, not Guan Yu's bravery, that won the day," someone retorted.
"Nonsense! Did he not slay Yan Liang in Hebei?"
Another countered just as quickly: "Yuan Shao supposedly commanded a million troops and still lost to Chancellor Cao. That means Yuan Shao must've been a fraud—and Yan Liang probably wasn't much either."
The argument escalated into a noisy mess. Someone suggested fleeing early to Chengdu or Jiangdong to see how things played out.
Some agreed. Some cursed them as deserters. Others argued righteously that they weren't soldiers in the first place.
The docks erupted into chaos—then instantly fell silent.
Another warship had arrived.
"So big… and so strange."
That was the shared thought in everyone's mind.
Compared to the nine warships that had passed earlier, this one was nearly twice the size. As it brushed past the docks, the merchant vessels beside it looked like they'd shatter at the slightest bump.
It was strange, too.
The stern wasn't flat. Instead, three massive objects—each as large as a carriage wheel—were mounted there.
As the enormous ship disappeared into the distance, the docks slowly grew quiet again.
"Didn't General Guan say Jiangling wouldn't see war?" a vendor whispered.
More merchants began recalling that red-faced general. Over the past two years, it seemed he had… never broken his word?
Some quietly made decisions in their hearts. Others felt a thin strand of hope rise within them.
One man slipped away from the crowd, entered the city, followed familiar alleys, and soon disappeared through a back gate marked with the character Liu.
Inside the residence, Liu Zhang was reclining on a soft cushion, peeling a piece of fruit. He rolled it twice in powdered cane sugar before popping it into his mouth.
The burst of sweetness made his eyes narrow in pleasure. He shifted into an even more comfortable position, his gaze drifting toward the two dancing girls swaying their waists in the center of the hall.
Besides the lounging Liu Zhang, two men dressed as scholars were also present.
Someone entered quietly, whispered a few words into one scholar's ear, and withdrew.
Before the man could speak, Liu Zhang lazily drawled, "Nanhe, why trouble yourself so? Safe within solid walls, eating sweet fruit, admiring beautiful women—unbothered by heat or cold. What more could one ask for?"
Zhang Yu, styled Nanhe, showed no change in expression. He bowed deeply and said, "When the lord is humiliated, the minister must die. Though Yi Province has many who cling to comfort, the people's hearts still yearn for you, my lord. All await your return to power."
Liu Zhang said nothing. His eyes lingered instead on the pendants hanging from the dancer's waist—glass, it was said, green as jade. When they struck one another, they chimed crisply as she moved…
"My lord!" Zhang Yu's anxious voice snapped him back.
Liu Zhang sighed inwardly and asked perfunctorily, "But I hear the common folk all praise Imperial Uncle Liu. Where is this 'people's will' you speak of?"
Zhang Yu shuffled forward on his knees. "The common is nothing—what do they know of people's will?"
"The Cun family of Yong, the Luan clan of Laodong, the powerful Qiang, Yan, and Chen families of Hanzhong, the Liang family of Luocheng, the Xu, Qiu, and Tu clans of Yinping—these are the true people's will!"
Liu Zhang looked slightly disappointed. He casually peeled another fruit and dipped it in sugar.
Seeing this, Zhang Yu grew even more desperate and edged closer.
Liu Zhang paused—then asked an entirely unrelated question.
"When Liu Bei entered Chengdu, he once questioned you. What did he ask?"
Zhang Yu froze, then answered honestly, "Liu Bei knew I was skilled in physiognomy. He asked me to read the fate of his rebel general Zhang Fei—to divine his lifespan."
"And what did you see?" Liu Zhang asked with interest.
"I said that in a dingyou year he would lose a general. Liu Bei laughed loudly, dismissed me, and showed no concern for his brother's impending disaster."
Dingyou… Liu Zhang calculated silently. That would be six years later.
Zhang Yu suppressed his bitterness. He had expected Liu Bei to ask anxiously how Zhang Fei would meet disaster—yet he had laughed instead. Heartless!
Regaining focus, Zhang Yu pressed on. "Now Jing and Xiang seem poised for renewed war. Chancellor Cao marches south. We must unite Yi Province's people and respond from afar—"
Liu Zhang paused again, thought carefully, then nodded. "Very well. Proceed—but only in secret. When Lord Cao surrounds Jiangling, then we'll seek the right moment to rise."
Zhang Yu was overjoyed. He bowed deeply, shot a contemptuous glance at the other scholar sitting stiffly like a clay statue, then strode out.
Once Zhang Yu was gone, Liu Zhang turned to Zhou Qun, kneeling on the other side. "Then I'll trouble Zhongzhi to make a trip."
Zhou Qun nodded, committing those surnames to memory, rose calmly, and departed.
Left alone, Liu Zhang sighed softly. "These people… how do they forget that I am also surnamed Liu?"
Then he shouted toward the dancers, "Add two more green glass pendants! Call in two more musicians—music and dance together!"
The squeal of silk strings filled the hall, blending with the crisp chime of glass pendants striking in rhythm.
On the massive wheel-driven warship that had just passed Jiangling, Zhao A stood at the bow, eyes wide with curiosity.
According to regulations: wandering the ship during non-combat operations—five lashes.
Zhao A knew the code well. So despite his fascination, he only stretched his neck to look.
In the end, he had left Zigui with jars full of coins and followed the river down to Jiangling to join General Guan.
Zigui bordered the river, so Zhao A was a strong swimmer. He didn't hesitate to enlist in the navy.
Also—naval pay was fifty coins higher per month.
That was the real reason.
Military life was exhausting: memorizing regulations, studying medical manuals, drilling ship handling, practicing boarding actions—nonstop work.
But Zhao A enjoyed it. It beat farming by miles, and there were plenty of people to talk to.
"Zhao Five, stop grinning! Commander Zhao's on deck!" someone whispered.
Five men made a squad, ranked by age. Zhao A was the youngest—hence Zhao Five.
He turned and saw Commander Zhao Lei pointing ahead with a young officer.
Peering through the river mist, Zhao A spotted a city.
As they drew closer, disappointment crept onto his face. "This is Jiangxia?"
Lower walls. Narrower roads. Fewer people. Smaller city.
A comrade whispered, "Jiangling is one of the greatest cities under heaven… Jiangxia is already pretty good."
Since Zhao Lei wasn't coming over, Zhao A whispered, "So what are we doing here?"
"Passing through to Dangyang," his comrade replied flatly. "Did you even listen? We camp there, rest a few days, then go fight Cao's army!"
Zhao A's heart surged.
Fight Cao's army.
He remembered how Cao's forces had driven Lord Li all the way to Zigui. Pity Lord Li never knew—something that still bothered Zhao A.
But wait… wasn't Imperial Uncle Liu also driven here by Cao's army?
So… should he and Lord Li actually thank Cao's army for delivering Imperial Uncle Liu?
Zhao A sank into a very strange dilemma.
On Jiangxia's city wall, Lu Su watched the massive warship.
The messenger rushing over hadn't even spoken when Lu Su calmly said, "Let them pass."
The messenger saluted and hurried off.
Standing beside Lu Su, Bu Zhi looked uneasy. "General, such a large force passing through… shouldn't we report this to our lord?"
Lu Su replied coolly, "The lord already knows."
Bu Zhi fell silent.
After a moment, Lu Su exhaled slowly. "Truly fine warships."
Bu Zhi bristled. "They haven't seen battle. How can you call them good? And once northbound, using a navy against land troops—even skiffs would suffice."
A faint smile touched Lu Su's voice. "The water-powered workshops you replicated, Zishan—how do they compare to those in Gong'an?"
Bu Zhi wanted to argue, but met Lu Su's steady gaze—and finally sighed. "Slightly inferior."
"I've heard Jiangling speaks much of engineering," Lu Su said. "Even if these experimental ships fail, the attempt itself is a victory."
Bu Zhi understood. Jiangdong knew ships best.
What he couldn't accept was that Liu Bei—a warlord who'd fled south—had somehow surpassed Jiangdong in shipbuilding within two short years.
Even harder to swallow was how Jiangling's merchants now looked at him—not with awe, but casual indifference.
Only two years…
"Zishan, go oversee the harbor," Lu Su ordered suddenly. "Ensure nothing goes wrong."
Bu Zhi saluted and left.
Once he was gone, Lu Su withdrew his clenched fist from his sleeve.
Inside was a decree from his lord:
I have ordered Lu Meng to lead twenty thousand troops to Jiangxia to prepare for "unforeseen circumstances."
Sweat had soaked the paper. The ink was smeared beyond recognition.
Lu Su opened his hand.
The decree caught the wind, fluttered, and fell into the river.
His heart filled with confusion.
"What unforeseen circumstances."
could there be?"
"Why not advance north together—responding in concert—to pursue the great cause?"