Cao Cao had barely managed to suppress the surge of irritation rising in his chest after being cut off by Zhang Fei. He was practically shoved into the hall, face turned aside in reluctant dignity.
Before being dragged inside, he had already steeled himself countless times.
He was wounded and unable to move freely. He was a defeated general. What right had he to bargain or posture?
If he must face them, then better to hold his head high and show his bearing. If nothing else, Yun Chang might at least respect that.
So when Zhang Fei forced him into a chair, Cao Cao carefully straightened his robes and composed his expression.
But the moment his eyes fell upon those seated at the head, he nearly ground his teeth to pieces.
To the left sat a scholar of striking stature, nearly eight chi tall.
His features were as refined as carved jade. A silk headscarf fell lightly as his feather fan moved with unhurried grace. His entire bearing was tranquil and effortless, like a recluse untouched by worldly dust. His presence resembled polished jade, flawless and luminous. When he spoke, it felt like moonlight reflected upon a river, calm yet compelling.
Cao Cao did not need anyone to name him.
Zhuge Kongming.
Beside him stood a warrior even taller, close to nine chi in height.
Phoenix eyes beneath thick brows. A long beard flowing down his chest. His face held the weight of battle without anger, yet carried an overwhelming authority. Bloodstains mottled the iron armor he wore, as if the very aura of slaughter still clung to him.
A fierce and loyal general.
Guan Yu.
Cao Cao's chest tightened.
On both sides sat other scholars holding feather fans. Though their appearance could not match Kongming's, their composure alone made it clear they were no ordinary men.
Behind Liu Bei stood a silent general resting his hand on his blade. Cao Cao recognized him after a moment.
Chen Dao.
One of Liu Bei's earliest followers.
And with only these few gathered here, each with presence enough to command a hall, Cao Cao felt an unfamiliar sensation stir in his heart.
So these… were the surviving pillars of the Han who had defeated him.
As for Liu Xuande himself, Cao Cao knew him too well. He barely spared him a glance.
But as his gaze swept further across the hall, surprise crept into his eyes.
"Gongda?"
It was not only Xun You.
Dong Zhao was there. Liu Ye sat nearby, his face still faintly flushed with lingering anger. And,
Xiahou Dun.
The one-eyed general's face was heavy with grief. Moisture shimmered in his remaining eye.
"Chancellor… I have failed your trust…"
"Yuanrang."
Cao Cao shook his head and spoke simply.
"You live. That alone brings me comfort."
The bandages across Xiahou Dun's body told plainly enough what kind of desperate fighting he had endured. Once Cao Cao himself had been captured, the southern situation had already been beyond recovery. To say anything reproachful now would be pointless.
Beyond them all, seated furthest away and separated from the rest as if by an invisible boundary, was another man.
"Wenruo."
Xun Yu inclined his head slightly.
His face remained calm, unreadable.
At that moment, Liu Bei rose.
All eyes turned toward him at once.
"Yesterday, I told Mengde that your defeat is what the sons of Han would hope for even a thousand years hence."
"Mengde surely took those words as nonsense."
Xun Yu's expression shifted faintly.
Liu Ye made no effort to hide the mockery in his eyes.
Xun You and Dong Zhao both seemed thoughtful.
Cao Cao, however, looked past Liu Bei entirely, studying Kongming and Guan Yu with open regret.
"If only…" the thought flickered across his mind.
"And I also told him," Liu Bei continued, voice steady, "that whether Mengde lives or dies is not mine to decide."
A ripple moved through the hall.
"That decision," Liu Bei said, stepping slowly into the center, his voice ringing with iron certainty, "belongs to this."
Even Cao Cao could not help but stare at him now.
And before his eyes, Liu Bei stepped slightly aside and pointed behind him.
With the fall of his final word, a brilliant curtain of light burst open in midair.
It spread across the hall like dawn breaking over the horizon.
As expected, chaos erupted instantly.
Men stumbled from their seats. Some cried out. Others stared in stunned disbelief.
Even Cao Cao's composure shattered.
---
Tang Dynasty — Chang'an Palace
Morning sunlight washed over the imperial road as a father and son walked side by side.
"Have you finished reading the records of the Western Regions?" the father asked.
"I've read them twice already, Father."
Li Shimin nodded, and silence fell between them.
At last, Li Chengqian could not contain himself.
"Father… are you planning to send me out of Chang'an?"
For the Crown Prince of Great Tang, the past two years had brought the greatest change not in the court, but in his father.
The Emperor had grown gentler with him.
He listened patiently now. He spoke more openly, whether about governance or military matters. He even spent nights reviewing history together with him.
He had ordered Chengqian to study the accounts of the Western Regions, then personally discussed how the Former Han had opened those lands. At the same time, he spoke frankly of Tang's future strategy.
The future of Tang lay in managing the Western Regions.
In stabilizing Hebei.
In cultivating Jiangnan.
In opening the seas.
How could the heir to the empire remain confined in Chang'an and know nothing of the world?
For Li Chengqian, anticipation had already filled him to the brim.
For the first time in his life, his father no longer treated him with only strict expectations, but with sincere hope.
Li Shimin nodded again as he led his son toward Ganlu Hall.
"You are only fourteen. Touring the realm can wait until next year."
"Today, your father will first let you see…"
"See what?" Chengqian pressed.
Li Shimin's gaze drifted far away.
"See the burden of future generations… and understand the duty of Tang."
Chengqian nodded, half confused, as his father pushed open the doors of Ganlu Hall.
Inside, his mother was there. His uncles, elders, and teachers turned to look at him.
And at the far end—
Radiant light spread outward from the center of the wall, extending toward both sides.
Chengqian's eyes widened. His mouth fell open.
Li Shimin burst into laughter, scooped his son up, and strode into the hall.
---
Northern Song — Bianliang
Looking at the bustling city of Bianliang, far more prosperous than before, Cao Bin found himself strangely unaccustomed.
Southern Tang had fallen only four months ago. Yet in truth, the Song imperial army had crossed the Yangtze half a year earlier, steadily shrinking the territory the Southern Tang could still control.
When Cao Bin completed the encirclement of Jinling, merchants in Bianliang had already gambled their fortunes and rushed south.
Now the canal route from Bianliang straight to Hangzhou lay completely open.
Qian Chu had not yet formally surrendered Wuyue, but in reality Song, Wuyue, and the former Tang territories were already tightly bound together.
Trade flourished.
And with it came many changes within the court.
The Crown Prince now oversaw the Ministry of Works.
The Prince of Jin had withdrawn into Buddhism.
Those were only the most visible changes.
Beneath the surface, however, the reforms led by Chancellor Zhao Pu in education and taxation had stirred hidden currents throughout Bianliang.
Even so, the civil officials largely welcomed it. Peace had not lasted long enough for them to grow complacent.
Their only concern was that the Emperor showed no sign of resting the realm.
Li Yu of Southern Tang had only just been brought to Bianliang, yet the Emperor had already begun speaking openly of Northern Han… and even the Khitan.
Still…
Cao Bin frowned slightly.
He could not forget the strange words the Emperor had blurted out earlier.
Now that the state depended so heavily on the ruler himself… if something were to happen—
He shook the thought away.
On the road to Guangzheng Hall, he encountered Zhao Dezhao heading in the same direction.
"In the campaign against Southern Tang, Your Highness's trebuchets deserve great credit," Cao Bin said politely.
Zhao Dezhao only shook his head.
Only he knew those powerful machines had come from his father.
Thinking of how his father had looked at him meaningfully yesterday and told him to arrive early today at Guangzheng Hall, which had previously been forbidden to all…
A flicker of anticipation rose in his chest.
When Zhao Dezhao pushed open the hall doors, he saw Li Yu and Qian Chu glaring at each other like rival blades, while his father watched the scene with amusement.
Chancellor Zhao Pu stood nearby.
So did Master Kongjiong, the monk he still did not know quite how to address.
There was also an unfamiliar imperial physician from the Hanlin Academy.
And a row of young eunuchs bustling about.
At the center of the hall stood a stone table that seemed entirely out of place.
"You arrived just in time," Zhao Kuangyin called. "Any later and you would have missed the opening."
"The opening?"
Before Zhao Dezhao could finish the question—
A burst of light shot skyward from the plain stone table.