Organizing (3)
It may be stating the obvious, but ever since we occupied Ye Province, mountains of paperwork had come pouring in without pause. And with good reason—we had just swallowed one of the thirteen provinces of the Later Han. Even a simple contract sends documents flying back and forth whenever the name on it changes, so what must it be like for Ye Province, a territory of truly monstrous size?
And Ye Province wasn't alone. This year's conquests also included Yi Province, which, by sheer landmass alone, looked to be at least twice the size of Ye Province.
Even in games with intuitive systems where everything wraps up after a few clicks of a mouse, managing domestic affairs is a genuine chore. And when territory balloons like this in the blink of an eye, the future might sort itself out eventually, but the here and now becomes a colossal hassle. Work only ever piled up; it never shrank. Even with household registers and land records stored away in Luoyang, combing through them piece by piece was exhausting business. On top of everything, our pacification of Nanman had brought the local tribes into our fold, swelling the workload beyond measure—and since we had no intention of driving them like slaves to develop the land, that only made the whole affair thornier.
And the living proof of that was the person standing right over there.
"......"
A mountain of paperwork so immense it sapped your spirit just to look at it. Half-buried in the stuff, barely visible, our Little Strategist wore an expression that plainly declared she was in a foul mood. What surprised me was that it wasn't a look of exhaustion but of pure displeasure. True to form, our violet-haired Little Strategist, unlike certain people I could name, was a master of pacing herself. In her own words, the affairs of state have no end, so there was no point in desperately clinging to one. Handling just enough work that her body never suffered for it, and resting when it was time to rest—that was exactly the way of a woman who, in the original history, lived long and prospered.
But that "just enough" of hers turned out to be something else entirely.
"Why on earth have you been stuck on this simple problem all this time? You just do it like this."
"Oh."
"There you go again, spouting nothing but odd little exclamations."
An ordinary person's "just enough" and a genius's "just enough" differed in sheer scale. While I sat there chewing over every single character, racking my brain, she would skim the page once, dash off an answer in a flash, and have the whole thing neatly organized. Had this been the modern age, that skill would have earned her a spot on television, showered with praise as a grandmaster of document processing.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
Feeling my gaze, Sima Yi stopped her pen and looked up at me. Even a rough listen made clear her curt voice reeked of not wanting to work. It was so very Sima Yi that I broke into a silly smile.
"Just because."
"...You truly never change."
"That's a compliment, you know."
"Think whatever you like."
Hearing my answer, Sima Yi let out a long sigh and returned to her work. Still, she didn't look displeased, so that was a relief. Whatever she said out loud, deep down she was probably quietly pleased with herself.
A girl who grumbled nonstop whenever I showed her any attention. Seeing that reaction, there was a stretch where I deliberately withheld my interest from Sima Yi—because she might genuinely have been annoyed, after all. Needlessly piling up bad karma only to suffer my own Gaoping Tombs incident down the road would have been too absurd for words, so naturally I was being careful. And so, resolved to demonstrate the fence-sitting skills I had honed in my younger days, I kept up the act for several days.
Then Sima Yi's behavior started turning strange.
"Um... well..."
"Hm?"
"...Never mind."
How exactly should I describe the state she was in? Was it like a small child squirming restlessly for want of attention? I was fairly sure I'd seen this kind of development somewhere before.
In fact, I could see Sima Yi's condition sinking a little lower with each passing day, and inwardly I was quite flustered.
"Why so listless? Want me to cheer you up?"
"W-wait a moment! What do you think you're doing!"
In the end, unable to watch any longer, I scooped Sima Yi up into my arms and spoke to her—and like magic, she recovered. The sight of her face flushing tomato-red in flustered confusion was quite adorable.
So what conclusion did I, the one who had performed that whole sequence firsthand, arrive at? Sima Yi was a prim little miss who deliberately put on a frosty front for other people. ...Or would it simply be more straightforward to call her a tsundere? Honestly, I'd suspected as much from the moment we first met. What I needed was certainty.
"Mmm... so this one goes here..."
Pang Tong, much like Sima Yi, had become remarkably quick at handling her work. On the subject of her talents, doesn't the Romance of the Three Kingdoms carry a famous anecdote? When Liu Bei first met Pang Tong, she appointed her magistrate of a county spanning a hundred-odd li—but when Pang Tong let the work sit, did nothing but drink, and whiled away a full hundred days in idleness, Liu Bei dispatched Zhang Fei with orders to go sort that bastard out. The moment the fearsome Zhang Fei arrived, Pang Tong—looking for all the world as if she had been waiting for exactly this—set upon the backlog, and in a single day she cleared a hundred days' worth of it.
The specifics, as the story goes, were these: with her hands she approved documents, with her mouth she handed down rulings, and with her ears she heard the people's lawsuits—petitions brought before the authorities when disputes broke out among the populace—judging right and wrong with such clarity that everyone in the county bowed in reverence. Zhang Fei, awestruck by the display, submitted a letter of recommendation to her eldest sister, and after Liu Bei spoke with Pang Tong face to face, the two joined forces. That was the gist of it.
Multitasking at its absolute finest.
Now, that episode was a creation of our good uncle Luo Guanzhong, but even the official histories record others remarking that her talents were hardly meant for governing a mere hundred li. Coming from someone of that caliber, it stood to reason Pang Tong's work would get done fast. Was this truly the same girl who, at the very beginning, couldn't even manage the simplest task without stammering herself into knots? My chest swelled with tremendous pride. Sima Yi, who had stepped in to help her back when we had only just taken Jing Province, now left her entirely to her own devices, as if to say she trusted her completely.
If there was one and only one problem, it was this.
CRASH—!
"Ow!"
Her athletic sense was at a truly annihilating level. Just now, she had tipped herself clean over all by herself while trying to stand up and sort a stack of bamboo slips. I honestly couldn't tell you how such a feat was even possible—even with your mind set on falling, it shouldn't be that easy. Beyond that, she was an extraordinarily delicate girl; she would whimper and struggle for a good long while just trying to mount a horse unaided.
...Come to think of it, Zhuge Liang was the same way, wasn't she? At least Zhuge Liang had the excuse of not yet having come of age; Pang Tong had no such thing. Honestly, I doubted the passage of years would change a thing there... Best to just make Zhuge Liang and Pang Tong ride quietly in a carriage. What would I do if I carelessly put one of them on horseback and she ended up with a "Dilu" incident of her own?
By this measure, Sima Yi was quite the exceptional case. In the original history, she favored swift, decisive campaigns, and true to that, her physical abilities were outstanding. Which was only sensible—matching pace with marching soldiers demanded a formidable base of fitness.
"Ugh..."
There lay Pang Tong, buried beneath the bamboo slips and utterly unable to budge, as if some seal had been laid upon her. From the way she stayed face-down, refusing to lift her head, she was clearly mortified. I could sympathize with the feeling. All those countless stares you feel when you faceplant in the middle of the street. Unless your wound hurts like hell, the universal response is to die of embarrassment and scramble away from the scene.
"......"
"......"
Even at that very moment, Sima Yi and Zhuge Liang had abandoned their work and were staring holes through Pang Tong. With a wry smile, I spoke to the still-prostrate girl.
"You okay?"
"Yes... I'm fine..."
Her embarrassment apparently outweighing the pain of the fall, Pang Tong wouldn't show her face. Understanding the feeling all too well, I swept the pile of slips roughly aside and helped her to her feet.
"As long as you're not hurt, that's all that matters."
"......"
"Anyone can take a tumble now and then. Isn't that right?"
Once I had confirmed she truly had no injuries, I picked the large hat up off the floor and settled it back onto its owner's head.
"Still, let's be a little more careful from now on."
"Yes..."
With nothing to say for herself, Pang Tong ducked her head and hid her face behind the brim.
Watching the whole scene, Lü Bu muttered in a small voice.
"Hmm... maybe I should take a tumble on purpose too..."
"I can hear you, Lü Bu."
"Eep!"
At my level stare, she jolted in fright, her eyes darting every which way. Honestly, why do you say such weird things? I walked over and gave her head a couple of gentle taps by way of a scolding. Had anyone else tried it, the arm would have been reduced to literal splinters—but everyone knew Lü Bu could never lift a finger against me.
I said, my tone even, "It's just about time to go wake the baby."
"R-really?!"
Startled, Lü Bu immediately began hustling me along.
"Hurry, let's go! Our Yeo Hwa mustn't be crying!"
There it is—a mom completely wrapped around her daughter's little finger. I chuckled, then turned to the Little Strategists.
"Time to wrap up and head home, so feel free to leave a little early today."
A supervisor's declaration of early dismissal—the single greatest gift an office worker can receive.
"...Truly? Then I won't say no."
"Ooh! I have to go buy books!"
At that magic phrase, the one that restores life to any office worker, Sima Yi and Pang Tong made straight for the exit.
"......"
All save one—Zhuge Liang alone. Had she glued herself to the seat? Told to rest, and she still wouldn't rest. Left to her own devices, she looked ready to pull overtime all by herself, so I opened my mouth wearing my usual expression.
"Sima Yi, Pang Tong—take Zhuge Liang home with you."
"...My lord?"
"If you don't take her, then everything I said a moment ago is null and void."
The words were barely out of my mouth before the two of them seized Zhuge Liang by the arms.
"Come along quietly, if you would."
"S-sorry!"
Remarkable initiative, that.
"......??"
Dragged off like a convict, Zhuge Liang could do no more than float a string of question marks, entirely unable to read the situation.
Hey, I did tell her, clear as day, that if she refused to listen, it would be enforced regardless.