Chapter 30
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Liu Bei and Cao Cao (5)
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I'll admit what needs to be admitted.
The propaganda pushing the "Liu Bei simp theory" that the newspaper aggressively promoted did bring me quite a bit of reflected glory. That's a fact.
The success of a work isn't solely determined by the author's writing skill.
Even in the modern world I lived in, sure, there were occasional masterpieces so overwhelmingly superior they crushed everything and conquered the world.
But outside those transcendent outliers, performance on platforms varied wildly depending on the promotions you got.
I know this all too well from my own days dreaming of conquering the market with alternate history novels.
Please, manager pick! Or at least a push notification!
Ughhh! Why does everyone else get main banner spots and not me!
...Compared to those times, right now it's like I've got wings and a three-stage booster rocket, soaring through the sky.
But.
"So now, with Liu Bei's noble bloodline at the forefront, he should be boldly proclaimed the next emperor! That would be more than sufficient from our perspective, wouldn't it?"
To be honest.
I don't like the big-eared guy much.
He's practically a kinslayer who swept through Jing like a plague with his bizarre footwork, devoured Yi, and ultimately swallowed his own lands—a historic sociopath.
However...
Liu Bei held the final line.
Cao Cao also couldn't cross it due to the bronze bird ripple effect.
This simp would never understand that legitimacy and justification stem from the Han imperial house. Of course.
And.
My head is nicely round and cute.
You might call this nonsense, but a pretty head shape means I wasn't slamming it on the floor as a kid from all the tantrums—instead, I was always cradled in my mother's arms.
In other words, unlike other flatheads, my occiput protrudes more.
In Three Kingdoms style terms.
The mark of a rebel.
"What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying the world tree is withering, so let's nurture that peach world tree over there into a second one?"
Ah, whatever.
Charge ahead.
"Wh-what are you talking about?"
Our simp lady wore an expression like Schicklgruber shot by righteous youth Adolf.
"Losing legitimacy has always meant death...!"
About ten minutes later.
I delivered a lengthy oration likening the Han imperial house to the world tree, expounding on its impact on the novel's overall structure and character establishment.
That's right.
Oration.
Of course, relying partly on skills rather than pure logic nagged at me a bit.
Honestly, even without skills, this was a fight I would've won.
And the simp across from me.
"What the...!"
At my world tree insult, unfriendly to simps, she painted Guan Yu's complexion over Liu Bei's ears.
Seeing her meager writing pouch tremble without a retort stirred a twinge of guilt.
But someone had to do it.
Given her history of detailed feedback, she'd surely tried this crap on other authors besides me.
Of course, some of her points were valid, but fundamentally, a work prioritizes the creator's intent.
...Though there are those infamous cases reflecting NTR drift intentions, whatever.
"I'll prove it with my writing."
I drew the Sword of State and swung it wide.
"A pihye drift expert like you picking a fight like that—what do you plan to do about the backlash?"
Having listened to Kim Yul's lament, Historie offered a coldly precise observation.
"Pihye drift? Humans are fleeting by nature."
"Kim Yul. I sense the shadow of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in you."
"...".
As Kim Yul's face twisted slightly, Historie flashed a victorious smile and extended her index and middle fingers forward.
At that provocative gesture.
"...Dinner tonight is soup and bread."
"Nooo!"
Kim Yul countered strongly with a cooking ban.
Being a tin can by birth, with cooking skill at level 0, Historie finally massaged his shoulders to soothe his mood.
.
.
.
As they shared the risotto Kim Yul prepared after his mood lifted a bit.
"So, did the writing go well?"
"I've completed an immortal masterpiece."
Historie recited proudly, flaunting her chest fat without shame.
Her words echoed like a declaration.
"Really? Let me see."
As if awaiting his reaction, Historie handed him the pre-printed result.
Like a single painting, a scene from a fairy tale.
The content—mere prologue to her epoch-making masterpiece that would open new horizons and etch a page in history—graced Kim Yul's eardrums for a while.
And.
Kim Yul's following words weren't mere critique.
It was intuition, a piercing insight into the core.
"Nicely woven anthology of world literature."
Historie gained a deeper understanding of the emotion called "sulking" that day.
A month later.
"Ugh... It's infuriating, but I admit it...! I underestimated Author Kim Yul too much...!"
Chloe gnashed her teeth, but Kim Yul's work continued its triumphant march.
Notably, popularity had reversed.
Of course it had.
Though his personal martial prowess paled against the Peach Brothers.
Cao Cao had crushed bandits left and right from his Eastern Army base, firmly establishing and expanding in Yan Province.
Liu Bei, meanwhile, hadn't built his own force yet, just freeloading off Gongsun Zan for some youthful antics.
Given Kim Yul's readership favored political drama, the popularity reversal wasn't strange.
But.
"Kim Yul, why not just gloss over it without describing?"
"...It's part of history too...".
Right now, Kim Yul was deep in serious conflict.
Until now, he'd handled loose historical parts by skipping time, like "one year later."
He'd even glossed over post-anti-Dong Zhuo coalition events that way.
But some historical events can't be skimmed.
Facing the massive Xu Province Great Filial Piety event, Kim Yul agonized.
What was the Xu Province Great Filial Piety?
Cao Cao, hearing his father Cao Song died near Xu Province, lost his mind, ignored his subordinates' advice, mobilized troops, and invaded.
Historical records say not just Cao Song but brother Cao De and nearly the entire Cao clan got wiped out in one go—so how could he contain that rage?
But instead of unleashing it on the culprit, he massacred nearby civilians like exterminating vermin: burying, drowning in rivers, total devastation.
So many thrown into the Sishui River it barely flowed—truly, Wangtakjo's lineup was rock-solid.
Plus, Kim Yul planned to use the common trope "Zhuge Liang is an Xu refugee!" to fuel strong hatred toward Wei.
Skip the Great Filial Piety, and Cao Cao's character dies.
Describe it, and Liu Bei parts get awkward.
"But describe it, and Cao Cao becomes the world's biggest scum."
"Think of it as living up to the title...? No, filial piety, filial piety."
"One for mom, one for dad, and the whole country burns."
"Such a natural pad-dripper tin can."
"I merely stated objective facts."
Stone and tin can clashed fiercely in a battle of words, but no conclusion emerged.
.
.
.
Eventually.
Kim Yul completed both versions.
One unleashing fiery filial piety, dyeing the river blood-red.
The other compromising maximally, summarizing the act in a few natural lines while wrestling "inaccurate to history."
Right after.
He asked opinions from his acquaintances.
"Hmm... I like both! But the first has more volume, so I like it more!"
Esthea=Young Dragon of Shang Mountain, having abandoned the Green Dragon Crescent Blade, voted fiery filial piety for word count.
"So what happened to Lady Chōsen? Did she escape with Lü Bu? She's had too little screen time lately... Will there be a Chōsen side story?"
Roselin, seemingly humane, focused more on fleeting Chōsen mentions in Liu Bei parts than Cao Cao's atrocities—abstained.
"Hmmm. If Cao Cao cherished his parents that much, wouldn't brutally massacring them have more impact? It's fiction anyway?"
Her empty humanity pouch showing, Chloe voted Great Filial Piety.
Thus.
Great Filial Piety: two votes.
Abstain: one.
Kim Yul brimmed with historical duty to hurl raw Great Filial Piety, leaning that way inwardly.
Sizzle—crackle—!
"...Absolutely not this version. Kill me instead."
The sole editor retaining human heart and conscience.
Only Gilford blocked that tyranny.
Instead of oversouling Hector.
Kim Yul endured the penalty of no Caesar's Dice for a month, rolling it at the last moment.
And.
"...".
Seeing the die's number, he humbly respected the editor's instinct this time.
.
.
.
In the end.
Kim Yul perfectly grabbed the lifeline thrown to him at the final moment.
"Even for avenging his father, isn't it a bit much...?"
"Cao Cao's definitely the villain!"
"Filling a river with corpses... Must be a metaphorical expression for war's toll. War is truly terrifying."
"Now I finally get why the author contrasts Cao Cao and Liu Bei. Their opposing traits shine in how they treat people."
"Cruel... Horrific...".
The day Xu Province Great Filial Piety hit print.
Kim Yul recalled his die question: "Listen to the editor?"
He clasped Gilford's hand tightly in thanks.
Connections can cloud judgment or steer wrong ones right.
Having a good editor was a stroke of fortune too.
But.
Human relations aren't always bound by good ties—sometimes unwittingly by bad blood.
"Preparations?"
"Nearly complete."
Despite twists and turns so far, Berthus Duke planned even more cautiously.
Now, he was second to one, above all.
But...
If this succeeded, within years he'd reach a position none could look down on.
Most variables were under his control.
What remained...
"There's an empty villa outside the city."
"Yes."
"Remember that author I invited last time?"
"Yes."
"Escort him politely. Until it's done."