The Second Disciple (2)
The Xuzhou massacre left a profound shock across the continent. But for me, sitting here in Jingzhou, it was just a distant "Oh, so a massacre happened in Xuzhou." The people of Xuzhou were different. They'd seen it firsthand, lived through it, and fled south to Jingzhou. Men, women, children, the elderly—people slaughtered without mercy. The land laid waste, homes destroyed, everyone cut down indiscriminately. It had to be the deadliest event in the past decade, the shortest span with the highest body count.
"Liang, you should greet him."
"......"
"I'm sorry. She seems to have gone mute after witnessing Xuzhou. Such a clever, bright girl before..."
And so, that little child bore a deep wound in her heart. Zhuge Liang—that girl—had seen death far too young. Cruel, murderous death.
Humans feel their greatest terror when facing death. No one, no matter how mighty, can easily remain composed before it—whether it's their own end or another's.
They say not to even show a child a beast dying.
What deaths had I seen? My first brush with "human death" was simply starvation. Bodies littered the land from lack of food. Even before the Yellow Turban Rebellion, the world was full of the famine-stricken dead. With my first master, I'd gathered their corpses and given them proper burials. Those rites gave me my first chance to ponder death, and now, as an adult, I'm somewhat accustomed to others' passing.
Death is terrifying. Its unpredictability makes it all the more dreadful. But starvation, old age, accidents—they aren't cruel or heinous.
Cruel and heinous. What happened in Xuzhou was pure evil. No mere "My land value tripled" could gloss over that horror. I didn't need to see it myself. The faces of those who'd fled the carnage told the tale.
Liang. Zhuge Liang. The voiceless child looked soulless. Barely fifteen, far younger than Sima Yi, she'd witnessed humanity's brutality and shut down. She'd lost her childhood innocence, scarred by cold, harsh reality.
"Urp, urgh...!"
Nausea surged unbidden. Stomach acid splashed onto the flowerbed. The remnants in my gut only made it worse.
While I'd been here fattening my belly, Xuzhou's people died. This wasn't like the distant Yellow Turban chaos. I'd even felt joy inside, calculating my gains.
"I'm the mad one...!"
Revulsion boiled at my earlier thought: Don't show joy over others' suffering.How can anyone rejoice at death? Rage at Xun Yu and Xun You for failing to stop Cao Cao's madness. Fury at myself for never imagining she'd do such a thing. Shame at my idle life in Jingzhou.
"Master..."
Sima Yi approached from behind, patting my back. It only stung deeper. An adult comforted by a child—what a pathetic, worthless creature.
"Yi."
"Yes, Master."
"Your master is a monster. One who feeds on rice and meat stained with human blood, driven by hypocrisy and greed."
"Not at all!"
Sima Yi shouted fiercely, yanking my shoulders.
"Master cares for the people more than anyone! Before the Xuzhou refugees arrived, you convinced Cai Mao to give land to the landless in Jingzhou! Why belittle and mock yourself like this?"
"......Because my wealth is built on blood."
"Did you advise Cao Cao to attack Xuzhou? Did you cause the massacre? No. Yes, you profited indirectly, but that's no reason to torment yourself."
Sima Yi handed me warm water. I rinsed my mouth and slumped by the flowerbed—my legs had given out.
"If I'd served under Cao Cao, advised her like Zhang Liang at her side—would Xuzhou be safe?"
"She ignores even her closest advisors. Would she heed you? No. Cao Cao's just a madwoman. A madwoman did mad things— that's no reason for your suffering!"
"Is that so."
I gazed at the sky. Clear and blue, cloudless. Xuzhou's people looked at the same sky. But while Jingzhou's fields overflowed with grain, Xuzhou ran red with blood.
"...I've decided."
With Sima Yi's help, I barely stood.
"I've lived idly till now, sipping honey water day by day. But this showed me that's wrong."
Xuzhou shattered my perspective. Like a monk opening his eyes to the world.
"I must make the world free of war."
Waiting for peace won't do. To create a true era of tranquility, I must act—body and mind.
But.
"......Me?"
I'm not the one. I'm no hero—just a schemer scraping by, not fit to lead others.
"......."
True heroes are rare. If I left this Water Mirror Academy for office, acted for the people from within the system—not as a recluse—my words here would mean something. Knowing wrong but not acting is pointless.
But, for a bit of self-justification—though people call me trash anyway.
"Yi. Your master is a coward. Knows right from wrong but fears losing his head, so he avoids office. Values his life above all—gives strategies demanding others' sacrifice while fleeing himself. A petty villain."
If I'd been Huang Zu, I'd have surrendered to Sun Jian at once. If Tao Qian, fled south immediately, Xuzhou be damned. I'm no warlord, general, or even basic strategist.
"Your master isn't a righteous soul who'd stake his life like kindling."
"You're right, Master."
Sima Yi hugged me from behind.
"You're an ordinary man. But unlike any other. You may see yourself as common, a villain—but to this disciple, you're different."
"Yi."
"Who was Qiangziya's master? Zhang Liang and Han Xin's? Sun Bin, author of Sunzi's Art of War? Were they the heroes? If they answered the era's call to pacify chaos, they'd have acted themselves—not left it to disciples."
"That's..."
I know. It's comfort. Her voice so sweet, offering sweet solace.
But even so, I—
"Stay as you are, Master. This disciple will pacify the chaos."
"...What?"
"You're no villain. You call yourself ordinary—true. No matter how objectively you view yourself, others see you differently."
Sima Yi tilted my head skyward, cradling my chin, resting her cheek on my shoulder. Together, we gazed up.
"That's you, Master."
"......The sun?"
"To me, you're the sun in the sky. It hangs there unmoving, yet nurtures crops rooted in earth. Does the sun descend to wield influence? Earthly matters are for earthly folk."
"That's sophistry."
I know what she means. Her intent to comfort.
"You once said—if I surpass Han Xin, watch me closely. Yes. You're already fulfilling your role."
Sima Yi buried her face in my shoulder, whispering low.
"...As the master of the one who'll conquer the world."
That tremor—tension at revealing her unspoken heart. Even to trusted kin, such feelings stay hidden.
Pride. Or ambition.
And I'm sly enough to lean on her words.
"Yi."
"Yes, Master."
"...May I take pride in you?"
"Of course."
"Comfort myself that I'm not idle—I'm raising a future world-conquering hero?"
"Of course. Just stay in the heavens, Master. Man is heaven, woman is earth, right? So earthly affairs..."
Smoothly, Sima Yi's hands slid down, embracing my waist.
"...leave to me, Master."
I.
Am a coward.
"Thank you for your kindness, Master Sima Hui and Master Sun."
Zhuge Xuan prepared to leave.
"Uh, Master Zhuge."
"Yes?"
"Will you head further south in Jingzhou?"
"......No. We're settling in Yangyang."
Relief. I bowed to Zhuge Xuan.
"If it's alright, why not teach the children at Water Mirror Academy?"
"Pardon?"
The white-haired girl behind him flinched back. I approached, knelt, and extended a hand.
"If you wish to learn, come anytime. I'll teach you..."
To the girl—Liang—I reached out.
"...the ways of the world."