Sima Yi was filled with lofty ambition, yet he still harbored a small reservation.
After his lord Liu Bei returned to Chengdu, overall authority over affairs in Nanzhong was placed in the hands of Wu Yi.
Sima Yi had been forced into Yizhou, but after making an effort to adjust his mindset, he had heard a thing or two about his lord and the matters concerning the Wu clan women. For that reason, he had no real objection to Wu Yi becoming his new immediate superior.
After all, he had already served two masters in succession. Thinking back to the disastrous affair at Wancheng under his previous lord, Sima Yi felt that everything now amounted to little more than trifles.
What truly irked him was Wu Yi's deputy—Zhang Yi.
In terms of seniority, when Sima Yi had been compelled to come to Yizhou, Zhang Yi had only just been conscripted; the two had entered Liu Bei's service at roughly the same time.
In terms of lineage, the Sima clan of Henei was renowned throughout the realm. His great-grandfather had served the Han as General Who Conquered the West; his great-great-grandfather had been Administrator of Yuzhang; his grandfather, Administrator of Yingchuan; his father, Intendant of Jingzhao. As for Zhang Yi? Born poor and obscure.
In terms of past experience, Sima Yi had served as an Eastern Office subordinate in the Chancellor's office, while Zhang Yi had merely been a merit clerk in Nanchong County.
Yet now Zhang Yi stood above him, empowered to direct and restrain him. This left Sima Yi quietly resentful—and all the more resolved that the task entrusted to him by his lord must be personally and flawlessly accomplished.
Lifting the flap of his tent, Sima Yi drew in a deep breath of the humid Nanzhong air.
It was already late October. In his homeland, this would have been the season to begin storing firewood and charcoal for winter. Yet here in Nanzhong, he could still see robust local tribesmen walking bare-chested. The contrast in climate was truly astonishing.
Suppressing his idle reflections, Sima Yi soon spotted a familiar figure.
"Meng Huo! Meng Huo! Come walk with me for a bit."
A man bearing both Han and tribal features jogged over at the call.
"Sima-xiansheng, you called for me?"
Sima Yi clasped his hands together, nodded, and said, "Let's walk. Tell me more about the Cuan clan."
The power structure of Nanzhong was extremely complex. Beyond the many tribal groups, there were also numerous Han-surnamed families who had migrated here as early as the Former Han.
The tribes and the Han families alternated between conflict and alliance. Some Han families had fallen into poverty and merged with the tribes; some powerful tribal leaders leaned toward the court and intermarried with Han clans.
Over generations, Nanzhong had ultimately produced two truly dominant local great families: the Meng clan and the Cuan clan.
Meng Huo was the outstanding figure of the Meng clan of his generation. Though traces of tribal blood were visible in his appearance, he retained a Han surname and wore Han attire, which was why he had been the first to respond to Liu Bei.
The Cuan clan was the opposite. They preserved far more of their tribal identity and therefore fiercely opposed Liu Bei's entry into Nanzhong.
"I've heard the Cuan clan has started building walls at Tonglao," Meng Huo said, scratching his head, clearly troubled. "If not for a lack of craftsmen and time, they'd probably be trying to build a fortified stronghold."
"Even if Tonglao falls, they can still retreat farther south—to Kunze, Dian Lake, and Tongbing."
Meng Huo spoke fluently and in detail. As rival great families of Nanzhong, the Meng and Cuan clans had clashed many times and knew each other thoroughly.
Sima Yi nodded in understanding. Earlier, Liu Bei had treated Meng Huo with notable warmth, and Sima Yi had taken advantage of the opportunity to gather a great deal of intelligence.
The Kunze–Dianchi region was relatively flat and rich in lakes, making it one of the wealthiest areas of Nanzhong—and a territory Liu Bei was determined to secure.
Moreover, Sima Yi knew clearly that Dian Lake held significance beyond mere wealth.
From Dian Lake, one could travel southeast to Bengu County and Wanwen City. Between them lay a mountain gorge route called Jincheng, which led directly into Jiaozhou. If this region could be fully controlled, Jiaozhou itself could be plotted against.
At that point, Liu Bei's Jingzhou and Yizhou would be completely linked as one. To the north lay the Fangling Route, centrally the Yiling Route, and to the south the Jincheng Route.
Of course, such a plan would not be easy. The Cuan clan still had to be crushed, trade routes cleared, and Jiaozhou itself had been managed by Shi Xie for decades.
But precisely because of this, Sima Yi's ambitions burned even brighter. All these matters could become his achievements.
Besides, being cast into Nanzhong under the authority of Wu Yi and Zhang Yi, he had no choice anyway.
Only by using the Cuan clan as a stepping stone could he pave a path back north.
Xue Li, gazing southward from elsewhere, thought far less.
Mounted on horseback, he checked his belongings once more.
A yi dao ceremonial saber and a powerful bow—both relics left by his father. They were already worn with age, yet still hinted at the former glory of his ancestors.
A few sets of spare clothing. Several strings of Kaiyuan Tongbao coins given by Patron Liu.
And several letters, clearly stating that he had been summoned to the capital for important business, along with a travel permit (guosuo wenshu) issued by Longmen County.
After some thought, recalling Patron Liu's earnest advice, Xue Li tucked the documents close against his body.
According to Liu, if these were lost, bad luck could land him in a county jail for a year.
As he slid the permit into his robe, his hand brushed against something cold.
A smile rose unconsciously to Xue Li's face as he drew it out.
It was a silver bracelet. Held up to the sun, it gleamed brilliantly.
It was the one Miss Liu had slipped from her wrist.
Tucking it back into his clothes, Xue Li cast one last distant glance northward at Longmen County, then spurred his horse south toward Chang'an.
Though he did not know why he had been personally summoned, Xue Li vaguely understood that this was an opportunity—an opportunity to restore the fortunes of the Xue family.
After all, Patron Liu's attitude toward him had shifted from aloof to respectful in a way that could not have been more obvious.
Xue Li's thoughts were simple.
He did not want to farm anymore with these arms of his.
Longmen County belonged to Jiang Prefecture, in the western part of Hedong Circuit, bordering Guannei Circuit. Riding south along the official road to Puban, Xue Li would need to wait there to cross the river.
After presenting his travel permit for inspection, Xue Li was accustomed to the curious looks cast his way.
Though tall, his not-yet-fully-matured face and sparse beard made his youth obvious. Traveling alone before coming of age was indeed rare.
While waiting for the ferry, Xue Li wandered outside the post station and lit a stick of incense for Guan Yu.
Puban had risen because of its ferry crossing. Boatmen here believed deeply in spirits, and ferry crossings usually had simple shrines.
Westward lay the crossing of the Yellow River toward the capital; eastward, only a few li away, was Jie County—the hometown of the famed general Guan Yu. Thus, a shrine to Guan Yu had been erected here.
"General Guan, bless me—let my name be remembered in history, as yours is," Xue Li murmured silently.
After his prayer, it was finally his turn to board the ferry.
A post official craned his neck to glance at the Guan Yu statue and curled his lip in disdain. "I thought he was some young lord. Turns out he worships Lord Guan and didn't even leave a single Kaiyuan coin."
Xue Li, of course, did not hear this.
After paying the ferry fee for both himself and his horse, he weighed the noticeably lighter coin pouch in his hand with a sigh.
"If I'd known traveling would be this expensive, I should've asked for more at the start."
Because he did not know what business awaited him in the capital, Xue Li had not dared sell his ancestral fields to raise funds. Patron Liu had wanted to provide more, but Xue Li had accepted only a few strings of coins.
He had not expected the horse's ferry fare to cost even more than his own.
Weighing the pouch, worry crept in.
Is there any way to earn money in the capital?
According to Patron Liu, those summoned to the capital often had to wait—sometimes three to five days, sometimes as long as half a year.
For the first time, Xue Li truly felt how severe the problem of livelihood could be while traveling.
Across the river from Puban lay Fengyi.
Xue Li rode his small horse in a half-circle and took a look near the Changchun Palace to the south of Fengyi.
The current emperor had once stationed troops here thirteen years earlier, before finally capturing Chang'an. Xue Li felt a surge of envy.
Had he been born ten years earlier, he would have thrown himself into the chaos of the age to carve out a name that shook the world.
But now… the Turks had already been annihilated. Where was there left to win glory?
His mood sank inexplicably.
Thinking again of the dwindling travel funds in his pouch, Xue Li hastened onward, losing all desire for sightseeing.
For now, the priority was to reach Chang'an as soon as possible and make plans there.
After riding west along the Fengyi road for a hundred li, he looked south and finally beheld the magnificent city of Chang'an.
The gates stood wide open. Countless people and carts, small as ants, streamed in and out.
Then Xue Li realized he was utterly ignorant of geography.
Chang'an was clearly in sight—yet between him and the city still lay the Wei River.
After grimacing and paying yet another fee, he finally led his horse to the gates of Chang'an.
What a colossal city.
Imitating others, Xue Li lined up and entered from the left side of the official road. The line moved slowly, leaving him time to crane his neck and try to gauge the height of the gate.
He felt as though the back of his head was nearly touching his spine—and still he could not see the top of the gate tower.
Once inside, Xue Li's mouth never closed.
Clean, orderly streets. Pedestrians striding with heads held high. Dense yet orderly buildings. He quickly lost himself, unconsciously following the flow of the crowd into a market ward.
There, countless unfamiliar goods, hundreds of hawkers' cries, and dozens of aromas that made his mouth water caused Xue Li to fall in love with the place in an instant.
Then he saw the prices—and instantly sobered up.
Touching his coin pouch, he exited the market with many backward glances. After much inquiry, he finally found the relay hostel.
Upon submitting his travel permit, Xue Li saw the clerk shout loudly and dash off, leaving him momentarily bewildered.
Wasn't this supposed to offer free lodging? Why had the man run off instead?
Soon enough, the clerk returned with several others—and they promptly seized Xue Li.
"Where are you taking me?!" Xue Li exclaimed in alarm.
The clerks were visibly excited, their words flying like arrows loosed from a bow. Xue Li could not understand a thing.
Before he could make sense of it, he felt a chill run through him as his simple clothes were torn off.
In a dizzy whirl, he was dumped into a wooden tub.
Just as he tried to stand up in panic, he was struck on the head. Looking up, he saw an impatient-looking man holding a pig-bristle brush.
"How do you expect to enter the palace looking like this? Don't move!"
This time, Xue Li understood—and was utterly baffled.
Enter the palace? Why would I enter the palace?
But with his saber and bow nowhere in sight, he chose to submit and stop resisting.
A quarter-hour later, freshly scrubbed, Xue Li was forcibly dressed in a new set of clothes and stuffed into a waiting carriage outside the hostel.
For the rest of the journey, he felt as though he were being pushed along by unseen hands.
The carriage went straight to the palace gates. After being announced, a Huangmen palace eunuch led him inward.
After walking a long distance, the view suddenly opened up.
It was a simple training ground.
A man in a reddish-yellow robe was drawing a bow.
Thrum.
Xue Li's keen eyes saw the arrow sink deep into the shield serving as a target, its fletching still trembling.
The man turned, revealing a valiant, imposing face, and smiled.
"Rengui, what do you think of this archery?"
Xue Li looked around in confusion.
Rengui? Who's Rengui?