Liu Biao (2)
Liu Biao sent an envoy to formally refuse the General-in-Chief's offer of surrender—and behind that refusal, he quietly devised a scheme to stand against him.
And what might that scheme be? To draw in his allies Yuan Shao and Cao Cao, then check the General-in-Chief from three directions at once. In other words, the so-called Vertical Alliance.
It was a stratagem handed down from the Spring and Autumn and Warring States eras, when seven kingdoms once contended for hegemony over all under heaven—the diplomatic art by which lesser powers pooled their strength to resist a single colossus.
Yuan Shao of Jizhou. Cao Cao of Yanzhou. Liu Biao of Jingzhou. Each and every one commanded a power far too substantial to dismiss, and were all three to combine their strength, even the General-in-Chief's faction would surely be forced to tread carefully.
Having refused the summons to surrender, it was self-evident that the General-in-Chief would lead an army against him sooner or later, and so Liu Biao moved faster than he ever had in his life.
"You speak of reinforcements?"
"Yes! The Inspector of Jingzhou requests that you dispatch a portion of your troops to support him—and at the same time, attack Bing Province to divert the General-in-Chief's attention!"
"Hmm..."
Yuan Shao, faced with Liu Biao's messenger, pondered something at length before giving a measured nod.
"Very well. Should I find the strength to spare, I shall do as the Inspector of Jingzhou asks."
"Thank you!"
"We are in the same boat, after all."
At Yuan Shao's serene smile, the messenger—overjoyed at the favorable reply—beamed brightly and took his leave.
Cao Cao's situation was little different.
"Reinforcements?"
"Precisely! While we tie the General-in-Chief down, if you, Governor of Yanzhou, were to throw his rear into disarray..."
"Say no more."
Cutting the messenger off mid-sentence, Cao Cao let a smile curl at the corner of her mouth.
"I know full well what the Inspector of Jingzhou is getting at, so—barring any unforeseen developments—I promise you shall have your reinforcements."
"I will never forget this kindness!"
"Good. Now hurry on back."
At Cao Cao's offhand wave, the messenger bowed once and departed.
With both Yuan Shao and Cao Cao sending favorable answers to his request for aid, Liu Biao burst into loud laughter, forgetting his stately bearing for the first time in an age.
"Hahahaha! It seems I chose my allies well!"
"..."
"Behold! Did I not tell you it would be so? All that remains now is to join our strength and drive the General-in-Chief's power from Jingzhou!"
So he declared to his silently assembled generals, then turned his head toward Luoyang.
"I find myself longing for the day the General-in-Chief loses his nerve and holes up behind his passes once more."
As that voice, steeped in dark emotion, rolled through the government hall, the generals only shrank lower still, reduced to nothing but gauging Liu Biao's every mood.
Before moving on Liu Biao, I had resolved to settle on a course of action first, so I summoned everyone who struck me as remotely clever.
Said like that, it sounds like quite the assembly, but the people I had called for were few. Jia Xu and Xun You. When history had already vetted these strategists' talents, what need was there to round up every Tom, Dick, and Harry? Give a ship too many helmsmen, and it only ends up sailing up a mountain.
Of course, there were exceptions.
"...Is there some particular reason you had to bring this brat along?" Sima Yi asked, blunt as ever.
"'Brat,' you say? I do have a name, if you please—Zhuge Liang." Zhuge Liang parried the jab in a soft, unruffled voice.
While waiting for Jia Xu and Xun You to arrive, I simply watched the two of them trade blows with words.
The White Feather Fan—a fan crafted from the gathered feathers of white birds. Dressed in white, Zhuge Liang smiled behind it, the fan just barely veiling her lips.
"Grrr..."
At the sight of it, Sima Yi gritted her teeth. Somehow the fan looked as though it were being shown off—just a little.
Done grinding her teeth, Sima Yi turned to me.
"Why on earth did you give her that fan?"
"Hm?"
I let out a puzzled sound. Sima Yi had a point: the one who had gifted that fan to Zhuge Liang was none other than me.
Plenty of images come to mind at the name Zhuge Liang, but isn't that fan the most iconic of them all? Every time I looked at her, something had felt oddly incomplete, so I had put the General-in-Chief's authority to work, had a White Feather Fan made, and handed it over. It felt a bit like misusing power for frivolous ends, but a good thing is a good thing.
From that day on, Zhuge Liang never once let the fan leave her side. Speaking as the giver, watching the recipient treasure it that much made the gift entirely worthwhile.
I answered with a perfectly innocent face.
"Dunno. Just figured it would suit her, so I gave it to her."
"..."
At my answer, Sima Yi's gaze turned a shade sharper. Look at that murderous glare. Is she seriously a little kid or what?
I had already caught on to why she was acting this way, so I chuckled and patted her head.
"Okay, okay. I'll get you something nice soon too. How's that?"
"...Fine. That's all I needed to hear."
Sima Yi grumbled under her breath, but she didn't swat my hand away. Who could call her anything but a child? Even her jealousy is adorable.
One moment she carried herself with more gravity than a grown adult, and the next she was every inch a little girl—wasn't that part of her charm, too?
Zhuge Liang watched the two of us for a moment, then remarked out of the blue:
"I see not one shred of respect for one's lord here."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"Ah—forgive me. That simply slipped out."
Having landed her jab at Sima Yi, Zhuge Liang breezily papered over it.
"My tongue merely ran ahead of me. Pray pay it no mind."
Even under Sima Yi's withering glare, Zhuge Liang remained the picture of composure. Yeah, these two really don't get along.
Zhuge Liang turned to me, smile still in place.
"My lord. This is only my personal opinion, but they say one must never grow too close to anyone bearing the physiognomy of a traitor."
"Uh..."
At a loss for words, I rolled my eyes every which way. Why on earth was the Wei Yan anecdote reenacting itself right here?
It was a fictional flourish of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, true—but when Wei Yan slew Han Xian and defected to Liu Bei, Zhuge Liang had declared the man bore the marks of a born rebel and prophesied that he would betray them one day.
The Zhuge Liang of the Romance was practically an immortal who knew all things, and true to form, that prophecy struck home with perfect accuracy after Zhuge Liang's death.
In the official history, though, Zhuge Liang never said any such thing. He trusted Wei Yan with weighty responsibilities and raised him to high office. If anything, he skillfully mediated the discord Wei Yan stirred up within the ranks, and even magnanimously overlooked the incident in which Wei Yan insulted him as a coward for opposing the Ziwu Valley plan.
Had the Zhuge Liang of the Romance truly thought ill of him, he would simply have said, "Caught you red-handed," and lopped off his head on the spot.
I asked:
"What kind of physiognomy, specifically?"
"Are you familiar, my lord, with what is called the wolf's backward glance?"
"I know it well."
The Wolf-like Glare. It described the ability to twist one's head fully around and look behind oneself without turning one's body, like a wolf ever wary of its back—and like the "rebellious bone" of a bump jutting from the back of the skull, it ranked among the classic physiognomic signs of a traitor.
Talent aside, when loyalty was the measure, whose name shone brighter than Zhuge Liang's? In the original history, she had served Liu Shan to the very end, wearing herself to the bone for the sake of Shu. And Sima Yi had served the Cao family across generations before toppling the state of Wei in the Incident at the Gaoping Tombs. Set the two side by side, and it was true that Sima Yi came up short.
"..."
Unusually, Sima Yi held her tongue, fidgeting as she looked my way. She was pretending otherwise, but apparently the subject hit a little close to home.
Then again, I read fortunes for fun myself, and even so, when something unpleasant actually turned up, it did nag at me.
I stopped patting Sima Yi's head and chuckled.
"I appreciate the concern."
"..."
"But brooding over something that hasn't even happened yet isn't really my style. I'd sooner drop dead than waste away worrying. The time to fret over betrayal passed me by long ago—so enough of that talk."
By way of chastisement, I took Zhuge Liang's cheek in hand and gave it a long stretch.
"Ah, ah-ow! (Ah, that hurts!)"
Perhaps she truly was the brains-only type, because unlike Seo Yeo or Lü Bu, Zhuge Liang actually voiced her pain. Now that was a refreshingly novel reaction.
She seemed to be genuinely hurting, so I let go and patted her head by way of consolation.
"Sorry if that hurt."
"Nn..."
Unable to bring herself to say a word against me, Zhuge Liang simply nodded, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.
Hmm. If this was how Zhuge Liang took it, what would Sima Yi do? I found myself curious.
I turned my head toward Sima Yi. The instant my gaze found her, her eyes narrowed.
"...What?"
She edged a step away as she asked, looking for all the world like a wild animal wary of humans. I got the feeling she would let herself be caught if I reached out—but I had no desire to feel her glare boring holes through my face, so I kept quiet.
And so, idly bantering with Zhuge Liang (the kid) and Sima Yi (also a kid), I passed the time until the people I had summoned finally made their appearance.
Jia Xu and Xun You. The two civil officials—both brilliant at weaving stratagems—turned their eyes on me.