Three Visits Returns - 2: What Kind of Man is Zhuge Liang?
Even after a thousand years, he's the kind of legendary figure whose name still dances on people's lips. He's the sort of ancestor to all those ancient sages that folks here adore so much they'd die for him without a second thought.
Borrowing from my dusty old knowledge of the past, I'd never deny that he's the protagonist of the Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage, the one who rises to Chancellor of Shu and basically carries the latter half of Romance of the Three Kingdoms on his back.
But drawing from the perspective of someone who's lived through ages enough to see mountains turn to dust in this world, Zhuge Liang might just be a victim of some brutal power-leveling scam.
The scholars of Jingzhou compared two reclusive worthies to a crouching dragon and a soaring phoenix.
The source was none other than "Master Water Mirror," a man akin to a little uncle to Zhuge Liang himself—a big name around these parts, the kind whose reputation precedes him among the well-heeled kids who treat Jingzhou like their backyard.
To me, his intentions in likening his kin Zhuge Liang and his own son Pang Tong to a dragon and phoenix were transparently obvious. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the crouching dragon and soaring phoenix, forever tangled in the endless human-rating games of the elite.
The trouble was, it didn't end there. As an eyewitness to how those rumors snowballed out of control, I dared to form an opinion: Zhuge Liang was probably suffering from one hell of a brutal power-leveling scam.
The elites' rating games borrow wisdom from ancient sages, sure, but they also toss in fantastical metaphors now and then.
The real problem? Ordinary folks like me, with no talent for words, parrot those metaphors we'd overheard like they're gospel truth.
Before long, "Master Crouching Dragon" and "Master Soaring Phoenix" had been etched into the minds of Jingzhou's people as symbolic figures destined to command nature itself, soar the heavens, and claim the realm.
Zhuge Liang is brilliant, no doubt. But seeing how Uncle Kongming chose to hide away in the mountains tending crops, I could kinda understand it.
That said...
"Who was it that said such things? Speak!"
No matter how you sliced it, I'd never imagined the man reeking of booze, shoving his flushed face in mine and demanding an answer like this.
"Please let go of this girl. I truly don't understand what you're talking about."
Zhuge Liang showed no signs of releasing me. My wrist was turning red.
"I don't understand either! How could such words spill from your mouth?!"
Can we talk with our hands apart? This doesn't seem like something a 'you're like a daughter to me' excuse can smooth over.
"Please, just let me go!" "No. I will have an answer! Who told you those words?"
This was broad daylight—no such nonsense ever happened in the middle of the day.
Proud sons of Han would never dare mistreat the weak: elders, women, children—it would tarnish their honor. As someone with dual attributes fitting that rare protected class, I could righteously claim the authority of the vulnerable.
Even with my past record of aggro-pulling via the Three Kingdoms Division plan, that absolute premise was deep-rooted common sense here.
"If you're truly set on this..."
I steadied my breath, prepping my opener.
Even if you really were some fable-worthy immortal who tamed beasts and strolled the clouds like the rumors said, no one—not even in modern society—could refute this exquisitely profound technique.
"Why do this to me?! I'm not even ten yet, and you're coming on so aggressively—it's making me so uncomfortable!" "What nonsense is that?! You little—"
"Don't rip at my clothes!!"
In an instant, every eye in the crowd snapped our way.
"They say booze turns men to dogs."
"What kind of depraved act is this toward a girl young enough to be his daughter... Aigoo, tsk tsk tsk."
"Filthy drunkard."
"What's the difference between him and a beast? Her parents will take to their beds with grief."
Uncle Kongming couldn't hide his panic, his grip slipping from my wrist.
"That's not it! You've got it all wrong! I'm a married man—how could I harbor such thoughts toward you?!"
His ears were beet red. Clearly, this novel maneuver had thrown him into total chaos.
I was just as flustered. The man fidgeting before me was Zhuge Liang.
China's population is massive. Really... the odds still didn't add up, no matter how I crunched them.
First things first, buy time for excuses. We both needed a breather to sort our thoughts—no disagreement there.
"I'll take responsibility for my words. I don't know why they came out. Just give me a moment to collect myself?"
*With that flimsy excuse, I headed home.*
"The girl only overheard it in passing, and the gentlemen's discourse impressed her so much she misspoke."
Master Kongming seemed to accept that on his own, and for a while, he dropped the topic.
The problem? Master Kongming was trailing right behind me.
With the booze wearing off a bit, he chatted idly as we walked, then outright asked if I had any interest in scholarship.
Does this guy even know I'm about to get sold off as a loli-con bride-to-be any day now?
"Ever thought of visiting Master Water Mirror? I have some acquaintance with him..." "It would be far too much honor for this girl."
An absurd offer: study under Sima Hui, the Water Mirror Master.
Wildly unconventional, no doubt. But for whatever reason, I would've turned it down flat.
"May I ask why?" "It's all useless. Unnecessary for mere survival."
People are creatures of adaptation, they say—and I agreed a hundred times over.
A person's inclinations and values shift unpredictably with their surroundings, like a chameleon in a kaleidoscope.
I could call myself a veteran of this world with over a decade under my belt, and self-assessing objectively, I had a pretty clear-eyed view.
A lowborn girl.
Caterpillars eat pine needles, and I knew damn well I was one.
Call it learned helplessness. This damn world had molded me that way.
"How far are you going?" "How far do you plan to follow, Master?"
Even if Zhuge Liang dogged my heels with persuasion, my worldview wouldn't budge.
I'd swear on it: no amount of lofty tales about soaring to fame, riches and glory, or serving one's parents to the end would drag me into this wretched world.
"Was that really from your head?" "Master Kongming... I've told you a dozen times: it wasn't my idea. It slipped out from hearing your discourse."
"If that's truly your intent, I won't press now. But I'm dying to know your name. Would you tell me?" "It's too lowly to utter. Chen Soyoung."
"Soyoung... Small yet spirited, like something descended from the heavens."
Master Kongming had definitely fallen under some delusion bean.
I had no clue how long he'd tail me, but shooing him off outright was impossible—he was nobility among nobles, deeply tied to Jingzhou's power families.
"Chatting idly with you like this, your talent shines so beautifully." "I merely echoed what I overheard."
Luckily, his character matched his reputation; no sign he'd punish me for offending his mood.
That earlier fiasco ended as just a fiasco.
Having pulled off the false accusation gambit, a prick of conscience nagged me. So I answered his questions honestly, trudging down the dirt path.
"Let me ask you something else. Why do you lament your birth so?" "Because that's how the world is. With my limited insight, I can't meet your expectations, Master."
"I'm not seeking brilliance from you. A good text is only good if the reader grasps it. If, as you say, one's low and humble station bars the Spring and Autumn rites, then great ambitions are impossible. Is that your view?"
"Yes. I lack learning and haven't touched the Spring and Autumn Annals, but presuming to guess, that seems right."
"Then let me ask again. There was a Yuan Shao who pacified the north. His mother was a slave girl, her status utterly lowly—does that shame his ancestors? What do you make of him rising to General Who Subdues the North, earning high office and salary?"
How long would this pointless Q&A drag on?
"By rumor, I heard Yuan Shao suffered a crushing defeat to Cao Cao at Guandu. I can't grasp the point of your words, Master."
"You're not wrong. But listen, child. Heaven decrees one's birth, but not one's life. He wasn't a legitimate heir of a noble house—how did he win such support? You're sorely mistaken."
"How can you say that?"
Master Kongming smacked his lips, regretful.
"The Former Han thrived by keeping wise ministers close. I shared Yuan Shao's character with you out of lament for an imperial house whose authority defies description."
Guandu's outcome must irk him. Emperor Xian probably bet on Yuan Shao, after all.
"What was that? I was lost in thought and missed it." "Nothing, sir. More importantly, how long do you plan to follow? It's still dozens of ri to go."
"Walking dozens of ri is no hardship for me. Nor for you, it seems."
I had no idea what this man was thinking.
Why spill all these trivial secrets to me of all people?
"But why tell me all this?" "Jade must be polished to shine. So, can you guess my intent in sharing?"
"You regret Yuan Shao's character and worry for the house. Surely you don't hold grudge against Cao Cao..."
Zhuge Liang's lips curved in a faint smile.
"Events from before your birth—the chaos at the capital was indescribable. I can't say why, but meeting you brings it all rushing back."
"Idle talk like this could get someone in trouble, no? But now I see your intent."
"So, will you reconsider? Even now, seriously..."
"No thanks!"