Upon hearing the strategist speak thus, Zhang Fei's eyes immediately lit up:
"This time, Strategist, you're not allowed to play favorites—Old Zhang here ought to get himself a weapon that truly suits his hand!"
It wasn't real complaint. Zhang Fei understood perfectly well that back then, with the Jing–Xiang campaign at its height, forging a fine weapon for Second Brother had been far more important.
But now, judging by the strategist's mood, Zhang Fei felt that his own turn had finally come.
Zhuge Liang was in excellent spirits, smiling broadly:
"How could I forget Yide?"
As he spoke, he cast a glance at Zhao Yun, who had never been one to contend for such things:
"And Zilong as well."
For a moment, Liu Bei found himself wondering whether he had gone south to pacify Nanzhong too early.
Anyone who had experienced the battlefield—who wouldn't want a weapon sharp enough to cut iron like mud?
Still, Zhuge Liang was only making a promise for now. After all, these few words sounded simple, but once they reached the blacksmith's workshop, each hammer blow would stretch into a long and arduous process.
Fortunately, none of this troubled him. Zhuge Liang even found joy in it.
"However, compared to steel-forging methods, horseshoes are the more urgent matter."
After a brief moment of delight, Zhuge Liang's thoughts returned to another pressing concern.
The reasoning was straightforward, and Liu Bei sighed:
"At present, we have very few good horses. Horseshoes protect the hooves of fine steeds—they are of great importance."
Although they had already entered Yong and Liang, horse pastures could not be established overnight.
According to Liu Bei's understanding of the later concepts of selective breeding and husbandry:
Selection required skilled horse appraisers; husbandry required veterinarians.
And right now, they had neither…
Not to mention fodder such as beans—those matters were far too distant.
With another sigh, thinking of horses caused Liu Bei to recall two names:
Su Shuang, Zhang Shiping.
He wondered whether the two were still safe.
Though he wished to work with them again, they were most likely in Hebei, separated by a thousand li.
And as his thoughts drifted further north to his old homeland, Liu Bei recalled the very first sworn brother of his youth, with whom he had once roamed the countryside together. What would it be like, if they were to meet again?
For a moment, Liu Bei fell into a daze.
On Zhuge Liang's side, everything continued in perfect order. From the moment the luminous screen had appeared, he had been jotting down notes in a small booklet at regular intervals. Now, after lowering his head to write a few more lines, he looked up and asked:
"Xiaozhi—where is Jiang Wei at present?"
Zhang Fei rushed to answer:
"The Strategist feared danger in Yong and Liang, so he was left in Hanzhong, with Xiaozhi supervising his studies."
Zhuge Liang nodded and directly handed the booklet to Fa Zheng:
"Then I'll trouble you, Xiaozhi, to give these notes to Jiang Wei."
"When we meet next year, I will be testing him."
Fa Zheng took the booklet and flipped through it briefly. There was no concrete instruction inside—rather, it resembled a military notebook, mostly observations made casually while watching Tang dynasty campaigns.
Not only were there insights on formations, but also thoughts on using beacon systems to lock down territory. Zhuge Liang had casually written:
"Like the snake of Mount Changshan—hidden in the Nine Grounds, moving through the Nine Heavens: the method of preserving oneself and securing total victory."
…Hmm.
Holding the notebook, Fa Zheng reflected. Zhuge Liang had casually strung together two completely unrelated lines from The Art of War.
The "snake of Mount Changshan" came from the chapter on the Nine Grounds—describing how those skilled in war were like that snake: strike the head and the tail responds; strike the tail and the head responds; strike the middle and both head and tail respond.
Fa Zheng had always thought this referred to the long snake formation, or perhaps a mutual-support defensive posture. But now that he thought about it—weren't these continuous beacon lines exactly like a long snake?
As for the Nine Heavens and Nine Grounds, that came from the chapter on Formations: those skilled at defense hide in the depths of the Nine Grounds, leaving no trace; those skilled at offense move in the heights of the Nine Heavens, striking where the enemy least expects it.
Fa Zheng stared at Zhuge Liang's head with undisguised envy. Was he really this strong?
But this was good. Fa Zheng silently nodded in agreement—these casual notes alone would be enough to occupy him on the road.
And once back in Hanzhong, with Pang Tong busy stirring up the Qiang people in Longyou, he, Fa Xiaozhi, would reluctantly take on the task of giving young Jiang Wei a bit more guidance.
With the minor matters settled, Zhuge Liang cupped his hands toward Liu Bei. Then he rolled up the rough sketches he had just drawn on the desk and rose to leave, without the slightest trace of reluctance.
He still needed to visit the blacksmith workshops—to probe the essentials of steelmaking, and to work with the craftsmen on solving the problem of iron nails.
And beyond that, there was the telescope spoken of by later generations. The glass workshop would need inspection as well. Zhuge Liang paused his steps and said:
"Zichu—will you come with me?"
There was nothing to hesitate about. Liu Ba nodded, cupped his hands toward Liu Bei as well, and then left in haste alongside Zhuge Liang.
Every time he finished watching the luminous screen, Liu Bei felt a sense of dislocation, as if worlds had shifted. But by now, he was slowly growing accustomed to it:
"Zilong may go with Yide to Yong and Liang. With Shu Zhi guarding Chengdu, there is no need to worry about its safety."
Sending Zilong north had already been decided earlier together with Zhuge Liang.
If they were only defending Hanzhong, having Yide, Zhongmiao, and Wenchang was actually a bit excessive.
But now that they had entered Yong and Liang—needing both to control Liang Province and to advance into Guanzhong—those same three suddenly felt insufficient. Thus, Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang were of one mind without prior discussion.
Previously, constrained by southern terrain, a lack of horses and troops, and strained finances, Zilong could only display his personal valor.
Now that they had entered Yong and Liang, Zilong's talents as a cavalry commander finally had room to be put to use.
Zhao Yun clasped his fists and bowed to accept the order.
The others dispersed as well, each with their own affairs to attend to.
Liu Bei slowly walked beneath the eaves, lifting his head to gaze at the sky, his heart quietly stirring.
The day they would seize Guanzhong and face Cao Cao's armies—perhaps it was no longer far away.
"The people's hearts…"
Hearing faintly the sound of reading from behind the government office, Liu Bei murmured softly.
Who could have imagined that the people's hearts could unleash such immense power?
"The people's hearts can indeed be used."
Sima Yi was voicing the same sentiment.
He had originally thought that dealing with the rebellion in Nanzhong would be extremely troublesome.
After all, the Ban Dun Man had crude weapons and armor, but moved through dense forests and over small mountains as if walking on level ground.
Moreover, the forests were rife with miasma and disease. When following Liu Bei south, Sima Yi had done so with the resolve to die.
Yet Liu Bei soon revealed methods unlike Cao Cao's—different, yet undeniably formidable.
After entering Nanzhong, every region saw large and small tribal leaders personally enter the camp, engaging Liu Bei in animated conversation.
Often, Liu Bei did not even ask them to withdraw temporarily. The topics he discussed with the tribal leaders sounded tedious to Sima Yi.
How was last year's harvest? How much surplus grain remained this year? How much land had been reclaimed? How many infants had been born in the past year?
Once these were covered, the conversation would inevitably turn to trade routes—something Liu Bei raised again and again.
Sima Yi was well-read, and he soon recalled from memory the Southwestern Barbarians' Route.
But whether it could succeed—he was skeptical. Could benevolence alone really work?
Very quickly, Sima Yi witnessed what Liu Bei held in his hand as "benevolence."
Upon reaching Zangke, Liu Bei did not enter the county seat. Instead, together with Wu Yi and Zhang Yi, he went straight into the mountains. Before long, the sounds of battle shook the air.
Soon after, Liu Bei emerged at an unhurried pace, carrying two severed heads.
The further south they went, the more often such scenes occurred. Only when Sima Yi looked back did he realize—without noticing it—how many Ban Dun Man Liu Bei had already subdued.
These Ban Dun Man relayed intelligence to Liu Bei, competed to act as guides, and even volunteered to serve as vanguards.
In this process, Sima Yi could not help but compare him to the Cao Cao of his memories.
The Cao Chancellor—no, the Cao bandit—always presented an air of authority.
Occasionally unrestrained, yet always within clear limits; his presence proclaimed ambition, his methods revealed the heart of a wolf.
But this Liu Bei… he was beginning to resemble a local of Nanzhong himself. He could sigh over the state of the world with Han families there, and curse poor harvests together with tribal chiefs.
He listened earnestly to the everyday troubles of the tribespeople, and then just as earnestly offered advice—never using power to buy loyalty.
Yet in the process, loyalty gathered of its own accord.
Nor was this exchange mere indulgence.
He taught the tribes to farm, showed them how to make agricultural tools, distributed insect-repelling powders, and strictly forbade them from eating raw or spoiled food.
He had even personally flogged a tribesman for drinking raw water—yet afterward, the tribespeople respected Liu Bei all the more.
And so, within Sima Yi's heart, that appraisal could not help but surface:
The bearing of Gaozu.
It was only when Sima Yi calculated the days and realized that yet another three-month term had elapsed, and saw Liu Bei hurriedly set out to return, that his curiosity reached its peak.
Such precise three-month cycles—this only made Sima Yi yearn all the more:
When would he be able to stand at the center of it all?
But for now—
Sima Yi flicked the list that Liu Bei had personally handed him and resolved to handle this task flawlessly.
He had to earn merit, survive, and gradually make Liu Bei come to rely on him.
The Sima clan had long eaten the stipends of Han—now was the time to repay the state.
Only by being a loyal minister of Great Han could he one day return to the Central Plains.
And that—
That, Sima Yi could be.