When there are those who grieve, there are naturally those who rejoice.
Strictly speaking, Zhao A had been in the army for barely a year. Yet to him, the farming life back in Zigui now felt as distant as something from ten years ago.
The little courtyard that never quite stayed tidy.
The ramshackle house where, on clear days, dust would still fall from the roof beams.
The straw bed, whose coarse grass would be crushed into powder by constant sleeping.
And the earthenware jar of coins hidden beneath the bed.
Relatives who gradually cut off contact after his parents died.
The sharp-tongued old women who gathered every afternoon at the alley entrance, endlessly chattering.
Endless land taxes that could never be fully paid.
Weeds that could never be completely cleared.
That was a life Zhao A had already cast aside entirely.
Since joining the army, he could clearly feel how much he had changed.
Spending a hundred coins on a single meal in Jiangling.
Holding the line against Cao's forces on the Han River and earning merit.
Collecting the bodies of fallen comrades at Fan City.
Teaching farming methods to the people north of Jing and Xiang.
Only now did Zhao A finally understand the hard-to-read expression he had once seen on Elder Li's face.
Back then, when Zhao A complained about the monotony of life in Zigui,
Elder Li had merely smiled and said that such worries were something the people of the north could only dream of.
At the time, Zhao A had taken it as nothing more than polite consolation.
Now, in hindsight, it was sincere and heartfelt.
And thinking back, Elder Li—a northerner from Yanzhou—had traveled all the way south, even buying a boat to follow Lord Xuande to Chengdu.
While he, Zhao A, a southerner through and through, had instead followed General Guan northward, swearing to fight his way into the Central Plains and pacify the bandits of the vast lands.
He still barely knew how to read, and could not speak in lofty terms—
he just found it all deeply interesting.
Before Zhao A could finish his reverie, a sudden sharp pain on his head snapped him back to reality.
"Zhao A! The fire's gone out! What are you daydreaming about?!"
Zhao Lei, who was on patrol, gave him an irritated flick on the head, dragging him back to the present.
Flustered, Zhao A hurriedly added firewood and fanned the stove.
Only after some effort did he manage to revive the flames.
He lifted the lid of the large iron pot, skimmed off the floating scum with a ladle in a perfunctory sweep, then grinned and said,
"Commander Zhao, you've saved my life again!"
Zhao Lei shook his head.
"That was nothing more than a minor cold. Even without the medicine I gave you, resting in the barracks for a couple of days would likely have cured you."
"You southerners aren't used to the harsh northern cold. Catching a chill the first time is perfectly normal."
Zhao A burst out laughing.
"People have died from chills before! Besides, I really did recover after taking Commander Zhao's medicinal powder—how could that not be your grace?"
"Commander Zhao, let me ladle you a bowl of meat soup to warm yourself up."
Zhao Lei laughed helplessly.
"This is the deer that Military Advisor Xu shot… but why are you the one tending the fire? Where's the cook?"
At this, Zhao A's mood dimmed a little.
"Our whole squad went home for the New Year… I was the only one left behind."
It was already the twelfth lunar month. After retaking Jing Province, Guan Yu and Xu Shu had considered that a significant portion of their troops were locals from Jing. They therefore made adjustments to the troop rotations.
The people of northern Jing needed to have their hearts won back as soon as possible, and civilian life needed to return to normal.
Thus, hardened northern troops were assigned to guard the entry point at Duyang, while veteran soldiers were mixed with new recruits and stationed at Wan City in northern Jing.
As for the remaining Jingzhou soldiers—those whose homes lay in northern Jing, who had families to return to, and graves to tend—were allowed to go home for the New Year.
This year's great victory over Cao Cao meant that nearly the entire army had earned merit and rewards. For these returning soldiers, it was a modest but genuine homecoming in glory.
Through their mouths, news of Liu Bei's conduct, Guan Yu's decisions, the victories in Jing and Xiang, and vague rumors from distant Hanzhong would be scattered in fragments across every corner of northern Jing.
Hearing that Zhao A's entire squad had gone home, Zhao Lei remembered something.
"Didn't you say your home was in Zigui…?"
He did not finish the sentence. Seeing the expression on the soldier's face, Zhao Lei immediately understood.
He gave Zhao A's shoulder a knowing pat and said gently,
"Then spend the New Year in the army this year."
Zhao A nodded. He felt a little better. He then recalled that Elder Li had once said Lord Xuande himself had fled south from the north—so then…
"Commander Zhao," Zhao A asked softly,
"you and General Guan haven't returned home for many years either, have you?"
"I've been away from my homeland for nine years now," Zhao Lei replied.
With a sigh, he added,
"As for General Guan, it should be over twenty years."
Over twenty years.
Zhao A fell silent. He himself was only in his early twenties.
"Commander Zhao, you saved my life!"
"I'm willing to die for the general—to help you and General Guan return home!"
Zhao A felt he had finally found a way to repay Commander Zhao, and he was overjoyed.
But a voice cut him off.
"Who wants you to die?"
Xu Shu lifted the pot lid to take a look, then said irritably,
"His Excellency doesn't need you to sacrifice your life. What he wants is for you to live safely, marry, and have children."
"Live until the realm is pacified. Then have a fine house, several dozen mu of good farmland, and a wife by your side—that is the life a man of Han should have."
Holding the lid in one hand, Xu Shu picked up a pair of chopsticks with the other and stabbed into the meat to check if it was done.
Zhao A felt he couldn't think that far ahead. So he asked Xu Shu his question directly.
"But Military Advisor Xu, haven't you yourself remained unmarried?"
A short while later, Zhao A—now temporarily reassigned from cook duty—was sent to stand guard on the street.
Rubbing the chopstick mark on his head, he muttered in confusion,
"If I can't find a Jing wife, fine—but how come the military advisor can't either?"
"And if he can't, he could just say so. I wouldn't laugh at him!"
Inside the inner residence of Wan City, Guan Yu stroked his beard as he listened to Zhao Lei recount the earlier episode, and could not help but laugh loudly.
"What that Zhao A from Zigui said isn't wrong. With my elder brother's momentum becoming unstoppable, Yuan Zhi really should start thinking about life's great matters."
When Guan Yu spoke, Xu Shu gave it some perfunctory thought, then spread his hands.
"For now, there is no suitable match. Let us postpone the matter for discussion."
Then he quickly added,
"Besides, our victory in Jingzhou was achieved only by borrowing the advantage of great warships."
"It was only by using the great ships to take Fan City that we gained speed at every step, leading to the victory in Jing and Xiang."
"If we leave Jingzhou now, the great ships cannot advance. And with Sun and Cao showing signs of alliance, how could we afford such carelessness?"
Seeing Xu Shu so flustered was a rare sight, and Guan Yu was inwardly delighted.
That said, although his assessment of the coming year might sound exaggerated, it truly could not be taken lightly.
"Before next May, there will be a great battle," Guan Yu declared.
The reasoning was simple: by April at the latest, the dry season would end.
The great ships were too large to enter the Yu River.
This information might not be known to Cao's forces—and even if it was, they would likely not dare gamble on it.
Thus, they would certainly organize a major battle before the dry season ended.
"Likely March or April," Xu Shu refined the timeline further.
"Even if relations with Jiangdong ease, Cao's grain reserves are still insufficient."
"The north is bitterly cold to begin with. If they launch a major campaign in the first or second lunar month, their grain consumption will be even greater."
With the timeframe set, Guan Yu, Xu Shu, and Zhao Lei gathered around the map, trading thoughts back and forth as they slowly deduced the situation for the coming year.
It was not until a guard came in to light the lamps that they realized dusk had already fallen. The large pot of venison Xu Shu had brought earlier sat untouched to the side, completely cold.
"All three of us are hungry. Heat the venison and bring it back," Guan Yu instructed.
"Once it's ready, call that Zhao A in to eat with us."
The guard carried the pot out again.
Under the newly lit lamps, the map was illuminated. Numerous markings had already been drawn on it in charcoal, and the blank space on the right was filled with dense, tiny notes—nearly all conjectures and supplements regarding the battle situation.
After reviewing everything once more to ensure nothing was missed, Guan Yu stroked his handsome beard and smiled.
"There is still room to discuss these matters."
"For now, the most important thing is to have a proper New Year."
At the mention of it, a smile unconsciously bloomed on Xu Shu's face as well.
"Last New Year, I was still alone. To have old friends as company now—life is truly fortunate."
Guan Yu laughed as well.
"A few days ago, my wife wrote to say she will soon come to Wan City to reunite and celebrate the New Year together."
"Then we'll add an extra pair of chopsticks for Yuan Zhi."
This left Xu Shu feeling a little conflicted.
…Was this really appropriate?
Despite his tangled feelings, Xu Shu was still dragged by Guan Yu back to the temporary residence in Wan City on New Year's Eve.
Guan Ping needed to garrison Duyang and could not return. At the table, Xu Shu saw Guan Yu's gentle and composed wife, along with their young son and young daughter.
After the meal, Xu Shu and Guan Yu sat kneeling opposite each other, drinking tea. Guan Yu's wife held their young daughter nearby, softly humming to lull her to sleep. Guan Xing knelt quietly to the side, reading a military text—the one Xu Shu had brought as a gift.
The room was tranquil, though lively sounds could be heard from outside the residence.
With support from Jiangling and the spoils from defeating Cao Cao, Wan City's New Year's Eve was simple but far from bleak.
Nuo rituals and dances, firecrackers and street performances—some soldiers, unwilling to be idle, even organized various activities themselves, drawing curious local civilians to join in the festivities.
At this moment, the burdens of military strategy and political maneuvering temporarily drifted far away from Xu Shu.
Listening to Lady Guan's soft humming as she soothed the child, Xu Shu began to feel drowsy.
Perhaps… urging the lord to choose a good match and settle down himself… might not be such a bad thing.
That was the final thought in Xu Shu's mind as sleep overtook him.
A smile lingered at the corner of his lips as he fell into a deep sleep.
Nearby, Guan Yu slowly finished his tea, gestured quietly to his wife for silence, then gently draped a cloak over Xu Shu's shoulders. After that, he let out a soft sigh.
Thinking back on Xu Shu's past year—fleeing Xudu, traveling through Jiangdong, entering Yizhou, returning to Jingzhou, then throwing himself nonstop into great battles, personally defending cities, and now ceaselessly planning for the year ahead—
Xudu.
Wasted years.
That fiercely resolute way of living seemed as though he were trying to make up for all the years lost in Xudu.
At the very least, tonight, he should rest properly.
And in stark contrast to the peace and harmony within this room—
In a residence in Jianye City, Lady Lu watched the straight-backed figure of her son, Lu Su, kneeling upright, and quietly let out a sigh.
A son's lofty ambitions—no one knew them better than his mother.
In his youth, he had traveled and studied with high spirits. When he befriended Zhou Lang, he carried the world in his heart.
After Zhou Lang's sudden death, he exhausted himself with worries. After the defeat at Hefei, he fell into dejection.
No—on second thought, after Hefei, her son's feelings had been far more complicated: joy mixed with unwillingness, disappointment mixed with defiance.
But after that audience with Lord Sun, he had returned like this.
If her son had once been a treasured sword, then now that sword had been snapped in two and cast aside.
This gave Lady Lu a measure of resentment toward Lord Sun.
After a simple New Year's Eve meal, her son had knelt upright in the hall, facing the main doors, as if waiting for someone.
But who would come today?
Only the cold wind spiraled through the courtyard, its moan striking the doors.
The last light of day disappeared behind the distant mountains, and darkness fell.
Lady Lu lit the lamps in the hall, glanced at her son's stubborn back, and sighed softly again.
Just then, knocking sounded at the residence gate.
Lu Su sprang to his feet at once and hurried to open it.
As Lady Lu slowly adjusted the lamps, voices carried clearly from the not-far gate.
"Xingba?"
"Hm? Not happy to see me?"
"No, it's just…"
"Lord Sun is feasting in the palace today. He won't be coming."
"…I know."
"There are also envoys from the north at the banquet."
"…"
"I won't come in. Take care of yourself. If you ever want to… come find me."
"…No need. Xingba, you must take care of yourself as well."
Soon the gate closed again.
Lu Su returned, distraught, and knelt back in his original place, but his back was no longer straight.
Seeing his mother's concerned expression, Lu Su forced himself to say,
"Mother, you should go rest. I still have some matters to attend to."
Lady Lu sighed inwardly. Knowing her son's stubborn nature, she merely gave a few words of instruction before leaving.
After stepping outside the hall, she paused. Sure enough, a moment later, a long sigh sounded from within.
Her heart clenched at once.
On the way back to her room, Lady Lu thought of the visitor just now—Gan Ning.
What would seeking him out accomplish?
She had lived long in Jiangdong and was not ignorant of such matters. She already knew that Gan Ning was not particularly favored by Lord Sun.
Seeking him would naturally have nothing to do with Lord Sun—unless it meant…
Leaving Jiangdong?
At that thought, the old woman's steps faltered. Then, silently, she made a decision in her heart.
Compared to the turbulence elsewhere, Yizhou as a whole continued forward at the unhurried pace laid out by Kongming.
The New Year was lively, and at the New Year's Day toasts, there were finally no fools like last year's Li Miao, posturing for fame.
After the toasts, the great families of Chengdu behaved themselves. Each household recommended its outstanding sons and nephews into Chen Dao's command.
Chen Dao showed no mercy at all, training these pleasure-loving young gentlemen until they cried for their fathers and mothers.
Even so, no one dared withdraw, because before coming they had all been clearly warned:
If you dare to flee in private, neither Lord Xuande nor your clan will tolerate you.
Only then was Yizhou finally twisted into a single rope by Liu Bei and Kongming.
By the end of the first lunar month, Liu Bei, Kongming, Zhang Fei, Pang Tong, and the others gathered once more at the Chengdu administrative office.
"The lord will move his forces to Hanzhong next month?" Pang Tong asked.
Before the light screen unfolded, this was usually when they discussed state affairs.
"Chengdu has now taken initial shape," Liu Bei said with a nod of emotion.
"All that's needed is to appoint a capable minister to guard it."
Thinking back, Liu Bei felt that the year had passed remarkably quickly.
He had overseen agriculture, repaired irrigation, found time to campaign in Nanzhong, and played mind games with reckless great clans. Looking back, he himself could hardly believe he had accomplished all this in a single year.
As for Kongming, he was even busier—handling administration with one hand, organizing finances with the other. The Brocade Workshops, iron smelting, sugar making, papermaking, coal yards—all were overseen by Kongming. He even found time to research glass and gunpowder, and still managed to carve out time every few days to teach at the Small Academy.
If Liu Bei hadn't repeatedly confirmed with Chen Dao that Kongming's daily routine was genuinely healthy, he would have worried that Kongming had prematurely entered "Chancellor Mode."
When asked how he managed to juggle so many matters, Kongming replied as if it were only natural:
"Ziqiao assists me with administration. Finances need only cursory review—Zichu and Zizhong are both experts. As for the rest, it is the same. What difficulty is there?"
…Fair enough. Kongming made too much sense for Liu Bei to refute.
And so, it was time to go to Hanzhong and prepare for war—to contend for Guanzhong, the second fertile land upon which to build a great enterprise.