Warlords Carving Up the Realm (1)
"Still, you did end up with a reward."
Zhang Fei, who had been pulling a startled face behind her when Liu Bei declared she would accept no reward, let out a sigh of relief.
"Even if that is your wish, how could a ceremony held to honor your merits pass without a single reward?"
"I have long kept my eye on your abilities; before long I shall confer offices and riches upon you, so look forward to it."
"Did you say that knowing this would happen?"
"A little."
What kind of seat was the Emperor's, after all — as if she could simply take "as you wish" at face value and hand over nothing just because it had been declined? It was a matter tied to the Emperor's prestige as well, so Liu Bei had roughly guessed the reward would be bestowed regardless of her refusal. Had she been a benighted ruler, she wouldn't have cared a whit about prestige. At the very least, one thing was clear: the current Emperor was no fool.
And then there was the look the Emperor had given just now. Liu Bei, with her born intuition, could read it plainly. Had she answered wrongly in that moment, she would doubtless have been branded a dangerous woman in the Emperor's mind.
There were men who bore the very surname Liu — the blood of the imperial house itself — and still openly nursed ambitions for the throne, which made the Emperor all the warier of her own kin.
Liu Yan, Junlang, of Yi Province. Liu Biao, Jingsheng, of Jing Province. These two imperial kinsmen, each occupying some of the most coveted land the Han had to offer, were revealing their ambitions in their own ways.
Liu Yan, having seized real power over Yi Province, had gone so far as to seal off every road leading into it. Orders sent down from the central court? He ignored them all as though it were only natural. Thanks to that, precious little information escaped about what Liu Yan was actually doing in Yi Province.
Liu Biao had allied with Jing Province's native clans, pacified the province completely, and now subtly flaunted his designs on the throne — donning the Emperor's regalia, performing the sacrifices to heaven and earth, enjoying the prerogatives of an emperor, or so it was said. The central court's verdict on such conduct was that they might as well be traitors already, having merely stopped short of declaring themselves emperor outright. Even without a direct declaration, one could infer exactly what they were thinking from the indirect gestures they made.
A seat so high that no one could deny its height. Power like the heavens themselves, looked up to by all. The lord of lords, holder of the highest authority and rank, commander of all the feudal lords. The title forged by Qin Shi Huang, the first man to unify this continent from its scattered, warring fragments.
Emperor.
Nearly every warlord under heaven, though none said it aloud, had his eye on that seat.
Liu Bei herself had once, as a small child, looked up at the giant mulberry tree in front of her house and said:
"Someday I'm going to ride in a grand carriage just like that one!"
She still remembered how her mother and her uncle Liu Zijing had gone white as sheets and scolded her soundly for it.
"Liu Bei, do not speak such folly."
Words practically tantamount to declaring she would become Emperor. She had, in her thoughtless childhood, blurted out a remark dangerous enough that had her whole clan been executed for it, no one could have argued the punishment unjust.
Liu Bei would often look back on that moment and sometimes find herself lost in thought. Had it truly been the heedless babble of a child who knew nothing of the world? Or had a genuine ambition — one even she herself had never recognized — burst out of her? It was a memory from so tender an age that even now it remained blurred and hazy.
Liu Bei stopped walking and gazed back at the Imperial Palace she had emerged from. It was more magnificent than any building she had ever laid eyes on, and not a single thing that went into it had been done half-heartedly. The one thing she was sure of was her desire to save the common people; beyond that, even Liu Bei herself could not say what lay in her heart.
Was she, like the other Liu kinsmen entrenched across the realm, dreaming the dream of emperors?
Just as her thoughts deepened, Zhang Fei — who had stopped in her tracks exactly as Liu Bei had — looked over at Guan Yu with curiosity and asked:
"Hey, Sister Yunchang. How come you're always buried in the Spring and Autumn Annals with Zuo Tradition, but you never put any effort into things like the Analects?"
"..."
"What? There's all those Hundred Schools texts too, y'know."
"..."
"I've never once seen you read any of it. Is the Spring and Autumn Annals with Zuo Tradition the kind of book you can understand without reading all that?"
Just as Zhang Fei said, the Spring and Autumn Annals with Zuo Tradition was a notoriously difficult text. There was the Annals first — the history of the State of Lu, compiled by Confucius himself — whose prose was so terse that its meaning was devilishly hard to parse. Hence the birth of the Spring and Autumn Annals with Zuo Tradition: a commentary that annotated the Annals to make them easier to understand. But however much easier the commentary made things, the book's contents were so vast and tangled that it remained a formidable read all the same.
So how did Guan Yu come to know that formidable work? Simple: she had committed every passage of the book to memory, cover to cover.
To the question posed by Zhang Fei — who did, unexpectedly, show an erudite streak now and then — Guan Yu held her silence, perhaps at a loss for an answer.
"Yunchang."
"...Yes."
"Read some other books as well. All right?"
"...I understand."
At Liu Bei's words, Guan Yu nodded, a faint flush of embarrassment coloring her face. Guan Yu always seemed so intellectual and cool-headed, but this endearingly clumsy side of her most certainly existed.
If days like these went on, would she really need to fight her way up to some lofty seat? Her dream was already being fulfilled for her, by someone else.
Having thought that far, Liu Bei smiled — a genuine smile, for the first time in a long while.
Apparently deciding that Liu Bei was laughing at her, Guan Yu turned redder still and murmured in a tiny voice:
"P-please don't laugh at me..."
"Sister Yunchang's getting all flustered!"
"..."
Thwack!
"Gyaah!"
Watching the knuckle rap land square on Zhang Fei's head, Liu Bei burst out laughing all over again. There was truly never a dull moment with these two. If this wasn't happiness, what else could anyone possibly call it? Right now, at this very moment, Liu Bei was genuinely happy.
With the day's work behind me, I was wandering the streets with Zhang Jue. ...Well, three of us, counting Seo Yeo, but she kept such a low profile, quietly devoted to her own duties, that I never quite knew what to do with her.
The reason for our stroll was nothing special. Just a change of pace. Zhang Jue genuinely loved wandering the streets and watching the common folk go about their lives, and I tagged along at her side, soaking up the fresh air and snacking the whole way.
Time spent with Zhang Jue was never boring. Some peculiar luck of hers, apparently — strange little happenings took place around her with astonishing regularity. How should I put it? The feeling that whenever some incident occurred, it almost always occurred within arm's reach of Zhang Jue? Nothing sinister, mind you — not misfortune singling her out or anything like that. Call it this: the moment something happened, she'd be tossed a front-row seat to watch it unfold in person. And really, there's precious little in this world as entertaining as witnessing something rare with your own eyes.
Especially for someone like me, dropped into an ancient era with all my modern memories intact — the pickings for entertainment were slim to begin with. So whenever I found myself with free time to go out, I made a point of bringing Zhang Jue along whenever I could, and she always accepted the invitation with delight.
Zhang Jue came over to me and asked:
"Is it to your liking, my lord?"
"It is."
I answered around a mouthful of the meat skewer in my hand. It really was a renowned establishment — the flavor was simply superb. Even I, who now sat in high places and had grown accustomed to every delicacy imaginable, had to nod in approval.
Zhang Jue watched me eat with a rather peculiar look in her eyes. ...A little uncomfortable, that. When someone keeps staring at me while I eat, I get so self-conscious the food refuses to go down. Just as I opened my mouth to say as much, a commotion erupted from the stable nearby.
"Horse thief! It's a horse thief!"
"Ahahaha─! What a windfall!"
A horse thief? So the strange luck of Zhang Jue's I mentioned earlier had kicked in, apparently. Still — a horse thief, of all things. A bold one, even by thief standards. Considering the standing a horse commanded in this era, he'd be enslaved or beheaded the instant they caught him.
Zhang Jue and I turned our heads as one, and there he was — the thief just beginning his getaway on horseback. Watching the scene unfold, I let out a puzzled sound.
"...Hm?"
"What is it, my lord?"
"Look at that horse."
"The horse...? ...Ah."
The moment the thief's mount registered, Zhang Jue let out a gasp of admiration. It was well earned.
"Leaving a steed like this guarded so carelessly! What luck I have!"
Why on earth was Dilu over there?
The thief astride Dilu slipped nimbly between the townsfolk and began to pour on speed. A famed steed like Dilu, stolen and fled with through the heart of a city, would be next to impossible to run down. Left alone, anyone could see the man would vanish clean away.
"Let's ride! With a horse like this, a few hundred gold ingots will be easy pickings... Ghhk—!"
Just then, a single arrow punched through the chest of the thief mid-boast. He tumbled from the saddle and hit the ground with a heavy slap, and the commoners nearby went wide-eyed at the sight.
"These criminal bastards — no matter how many you catch, there's never an end to them."
I turned my head toward the voice. A short distance off, a red-haired figure was walking toward us.
"Heh heh. Will I be earning some praise today too...?"
"..."
It was Lü Bu — the Sky Piercer Halberd slung carelessly at her hip, a hefty bow in her hand. The moment she spotted me, her round rabbit eyes went wide.
"What are you doing here?"
"Taking a break, so I went out for a walk."
I answered her question while stealing a glance at the horse thief. The man whose heart she had skewered in a single shot was already a corpse. I gave the former horse thief one last look, then turned my gaze back to Lü Bu.
"Anyway, good work. I was worried he'd get away."
"...This much is nothing at all!"
At my praise, Lü Bu's cheeks flushed pink as she struck a proud pose. Adorable, honestly.
Dilu pawed at the ground, letting out a low whinny.