Zhang Fei still shook his head.
"Why's big brother even worrying about that? That Western Liao state is a thousand years after us, and there's still an Eastern Roman Empire over there. Compared to that…"
Under Liu Bei's increasingly murderous stare, Zhang Fei's voice grew smaller and smaller until he finally shut up.
Zhuge Liang gave a light laugh and waved his feather fan, easing the tension.
"In the west they have a Pope. Perhaps that realm survives because it is founded upon religion, somewhat like the Zhou."
The comparison felt novel.
Liu Bei thought it over carefully.
"So the Pope would be like the Son of Heaven of Zhou… and Hungary, Sicily, Seville, and the like would be the feudal lords… wait."
As he tried to recall more, something suddenly occurred to him.
He took the freshly copied notes from Zhuge Liang, skimmed them quickly, and soon found the passage that had caught his attention.
"Here. That later General Chen's commentary on France and Vietnam suggests the two must have clashed."
"I know Vietnam was once Jiaozhou and later independent. But France… could that be Francia?"
When they had studied the map earlier, western lands had been filled with small states. Only the Eastern Roman Empire, Hungary, and Francia had any real size, so it was no wonder Liu Bei remembered them clearly.
Zhang Fei understood what his brother was getting at and simply said it aloud.
"If those western countries could cross the sea in an alliance of eight and bully our descendants and their vassals… doesn't that mean we should also be able to follow the sea route and strike them back?"
That question inevitably stirred complicated feelings.
Zhuge Liang lifted his fan as if to answer, but before he could speak, Lu Su stepped forward.
"These past six months, while staying at the Imperial Academy, I've studied the matters shown on the light screen together with Kongming. We worked to sort out the structure of later history."
"From the Ming text Tiangong Kaiwu, we learn that from our Han era to the Ming, a span of sixteen hundred years, the achievements in agriculture and industry were far inferior to what later generations accomplished in only three or four centuries."
That much was easy to grasp.
Zhang Fei nodded. Though he had spent recent years busy with military affairs rather than farming, he knew how astonishing later crop yields were said to be.
Even more striking were the techniques of exploring the seas and probing the heavens, far beyond anything they could imagine.
"When I first understood this," Lu Su sighed, "I almost felt ashamed of our own age."
"I told Kongming so. But he laughed. He said that without the invention of paper, how could writing flourish, knowledge spread, and crafts be transmitted? Our thousand years were merely the accumulation of small steps."
"In a thousand years, we may have taken a hundred steps and grown satisfied, never realizing the road stretched for a thousand more."
Zhuge Liang smiled faintly and spoke simply.
"Xin Qiji once said the Jin would weaken because poverty forced change while wealth bred complacency. The same applies to learning and technology. They should never stop where they are."
Lu Su and Zhuge Liang exchanged a glance and nodded.
In truth, it also came down to the fact that every dynasty had neglected practical sciences and mathematics. They loved to quote the sages about the gentleman making good use of tools, yet thought wearing iron plates and holding weapons counted as such. It should not have been so.
Most important of all, there had never been a discipline like the later thing called "physics."
But none of that needed to be said here today.
Lu Su suddenly remembered that earlier conversation. In the end, Zhuge Liang had stood with hands behind his back, facing a snow-filled courtyard, and asked:
What benefit does this light screen bring to Han?
Even now, Lu Su could not answer that question.
But Kongming had already seemed to have thought it through.
To destroy Cao Cao is the duty owed to the realm.
To break the barriers of great clans is the work of revitalizing the people.
To seek science and strengthen Chinese civil governance.
Only by achieving these three, he had said, could they claim not to have wasted what the light screen had shown them.
The expression on his face as he spoke had been perfectly matter-of-fact. His white robes had blended with the falling snow, making it all seem only natural.
Coming back from his thoughts, Lu Su heard Zhang Fei hesitantly ask,
"Then… what should I do?"
The vanguard general received a firm reply from his lord.
"Do what you can do. Win the battles you can win. Become a model of martial virtue for ten thousand generations."
Zhang Fei rubbed his nose and muttered,
"Then I guess I should stay closer to big brother, so later generations know that brotherly affection doesn't always look like that Tang Second Phoenix fellow."
Liu Bei opened his mouth, unsure what to say. In the end he could only pat his sworn brother's shoulder.
"If that line ever ends up written on the light screen, remember to say you heard it somewhere else."
…
Zhao Kuangyin felt his mood sink a little further.
These later generations really loved inventing strange phrases. Could someone please explain to him what exactly "Song-style shock" was supposed to mean?
With nowhere to vent his frustration, he naturally dragged his younger brother into it.
"Chariot Sage."
Zhao Guangyi bared his teeth as if to retort, but the lingering ache of the bruises on his face reminded him to choose his words carefully.
He rolled two prayer beads between his fingers, put on a gentle smile, and looked as serene as if he were about to chant a Buddhist invocation.
"Your Majesty."
Zhao Kuangyin looked at his fair-faced, shaved-headed brother, his eyes still ringed with bruises, and for a moment thought he resembled those animals later generations liked to call giant pandas.
He shook the thought away and spoke kindly.
"If the Chariot Sage has nothing to do in the palace, why not try writing a treatise on military strategy?"
"Me? Military strategy?"
"Why not?"
Those two simple words from the emperor carried immense pressure. Zhao Guangyi could only force a smile.
"Of course it's possible… I just don't know what use such a flawed manual would have."
Zhao Kuangyin answered without hesitation.
"We'll gift it to later generations. They can read it for amusement. Should be quite entertaining."
Watching the shifting expression on his brother's face, the Song emperor sighed faintly.
"Even that later state of Poland, when it wasn't being strangled, still knew how to boast…"
He paused, unsure of the later term's exact meaning and suspecting it might not be elegant, so he changed his phrasing.
"It still managed a certain pride."
"But this Song, whether strangled or not, always looks like it's rolling its eyes and waiting to die. It makes one furious."
"Brother," Zhao Guangyi protested, "the emperors of Southern Song are of your bloodline…"
That only made things worse.
Zhao Kuangyin's temper flared instantly. He snatched the notes from an attendant, rolled them up, and began whacking his brother over the head.
"You still dare say that? Look at what Zhao Gou did. Not the conduct of a ruler!"
"And Emperor Xiaozong actually had my ambition. Yet he lost power for nearly thirty years, reduced to Zhao Gou's puppet. What good did that do?"
The earlier punches had come too suddenly to avoid, but now Zhao Guangyi refused to just stand there. He scrambled away while still shouting back,
"That's unreasonable! Zhao Gou is generations after me. How can you count that against me?!"
"Why can't I? Even without this light screen, if you'd just done one or two things to satisfy me, or read a bit of military theory, would the Zhao clan be mocked by later ages and questioned by the Han?"
Zhao Pu watched the chaos in the hall with complete calm as it progressed from chickens scattering to wailing complaints. Internally, he even had time to note with interest that the emperor had upgraded from using a paper scroll to a stool leg. Apparently His Majesty wasn't worried about accidentally beating the former Prince of Jin half to death.
That said, the former prince did seem tougher now. Even his cries while being beaten sounded remarkably full of vigor.
But in the end, Zhao Pu found himself more interested in something else entirely.
"So… the Great Khan actually died in Western Xia?"