"These descendants… on what grounds do they speak with such criticism?"
Liu Bei's expression darkened as he spoke. It was not anger born of impulse, but a restrained dissatisfaction, the kind that came from being judged by people he could neither see nor question.
Zhang Fei did not respond. He merely scratched his head, committing something to memory instead.
So that white beast… it was called a panda.
"This statement cannot be called baseless," Zhuge Liang said calmly, as if he had already anticipated such a reaction.
He folded his hands within his sleeves and spoke in an even tone.
"Ban Gu once wrote in the Book of Han that the felling of forests had no proper restrictions, and that floods and droughts may well arise from this."
"If the trees of a region are entirely cut down, then heavy rains will carry soil into the rivers. Over time, the riverbeds rise, the land weakens, and disasters follow. Perhaps… this is what the descendants refer to as soil erosion."
Liu Bei opened his mouth, then closed it again.
If it were merely the words of those unseen descendants, he could dismiss them. But if even Ban Gu had written as much, then there was little room left for denial.
"And beyond that," Huang Yueying added, stepping forward slightly, her tone precise and grounded in practical knowledge, "the consumption of timber in iron production is far from trivial."
"To smelt one jin of iron requires seven jin of charcoal. And one jin of charcoal requires at least three times that amount in raw timber."
"A ten-year-grown tung tree yields roughly three hundred jin of charcoal. Even if all of it is burned, it produces only several dozen jin of iron."
Her numbers were not guesses, but the result of recent conversations with craftsmen and workers under her supervision.
Liu Bei felt a faint chill run through him.
This was the first time he had heard such concrete figures, and the scale of it forced him to reconsider things he had long taken for granted.
"Then what is this 'coal' they speak of?"
Silence fell for a moment.
Finally, Huang Yueying spoke again.
"It may be the black stone extracted from the earth, once referred to as shi nie. It can burn, though its use is not widespread."
Zhuge Liang glanced at her, a trace of admiration flickering in his eyes.
As expected.
"Then what of this 'online shop' and 'porcelain firing'?"
This time, even Huang Yueying hesitated.
"If they are mentioned together, then this porcelain is likely an evolution of pottery… but as for the 'online shop'…"
She shook her head lightly.
Mi Zhu frowned in thought.
"A shop is still a shop," he said slowly, "but this 'online'… perhaps it refers to some form of transmission? A method of announcing goods across distance?"
Even he could not say more than that.
If even the three of them could only grasp fragments, then for Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Huang Zhong, it was entirely beyond reach.
"In that case, let us disperse for now," Liu Bei said at last, waving his hand with a tired sigh. "Kongming, remain. We will discuss further."
After leaving the hall, Zhang Fei suddenly remembered Liu Bei's earlier words and turned toward the inner courtyard.
He peeked through the moon gate, glancing left and right, only to find no attendants in sight.
Unable to hold back, he called out loudly:
"Sister-in-law! Old Zhang is here to take Feng'er to the camp!"
His voice echoed through the courtyard.
Not long after, Lady Gan appeared, accompanied by a servant. Her brows carried a hint of concern.
"General Zhang, has Feng'er done something wrong again?"
She could not help but worry.
In recent months, Liu Bei's attitude toward Liu Feng and A Dou had grown increasingly strange. He did not scold them openly, yet he would often subject them to sudden training or watch them from afar with long, heavy sighs.
Whenever she asked, he would only shake his head.
Zhang Fei, who feared neither heaven nor earth, found himself instinctively stepping back a half-step.
"No, no, nothing like that," he said, lowering his voice. "Feng'er has always wanted to lead troops. There just happens to be no war right now, so I thought I'd take him to the camp early, let him get a feel for things."
Lady Gan studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"As long as nothing is wrong… Feng'er is at the southern training ground."
Zhang Fei clasped his fists, about to leave, then hesitated.
"Sister-in-law… please take care of your health. If anything feels off, go see the divine physician immediately. Right now, the inner household depends on you."
Lady Gan's expression softened slightly.
"Go on, Yide."
Zhang Fei did not linger. He strode to the training ground and, without a word, lifted Liu Feng as if he weighed nothing at all, carrying him straight toward the military camp.
The lamps in the side hall of Gong'an County burned deep into the night.
By the time they finally went out, it was already dawn.
"They must have slept on the same couch again, Lord Liu and the strategist!"
The servant Niu Er declared this with confidence.
The others, however, barely reacted.
Such things had long since ceased to be news.
Jiang Wan's duties had now officially shifted to the side hall. He had become Zhuge Liang's clerk.
When he arrived the next morning, he knocked for quite some time before the door finally opened.
Zhuge Liang stood there, hair slightly disheveled, eyes carrying the faint trace of exhaustion.
"Strategist… you did not sleep?"
"Discussed matters with the Lord through the night."
Only then did Jiang Wan notice Liu Bei still lying on a mat inside, fast asleep.
"You came at the right time," Zhuge Liang said, already turning back toward the desk. "Copy this directive."
Jiang Wan accepted the document carefully and read aloud:
"On the twenty-fourth day of the second month, an 'Observation Bureau' is hereby established, to examine the words of the auspicious light screen and investigate what has not yet been perceived…"
As he spoke, Zhuge Liang began organizing the scattered documents on the desk.
"The Lord and I discussed it," he explained. "Relying only on immediate judgment risks oversight. It is better to assign reliable personnel to carefully examine the contents of the light screen."
"They will extract useful information, classify it, and deliver it to the appropriate departments."
"For example, the steel infusion method from yesterday has already been compiled. You will deliver it to the ironworks and explain it to an experienced craftsman to test its feasibility."
"As for items like the Eight-Ox Crossbow, those fall under military restrictions. Such matters must be reported to the Lord and myself. We will arrange for trusted craftsmen and soldiers to reconstruct and test them."
Jiang Wan nodded, though inwardly he felt a quiet sense of dread.
His peaceful days as a simple clerk were clearly over.
Across Jing Province, activity quietly intensified.
Even Liu Bei, who only woke near noon, could not escape the growing tide of responsibility.
After exchanging greetings with Jiang Wan and washing up, he stepped out of the county office.
He paused briefly in the inner courtyard, speaking softly with Lady Gan, reminding her once again to visit the divine physician.
Only then did he continue on.
Outside the city, small plots of farmland had already begun to take shape.
Liu Bei recognized them at once.
These were the lands cultivated by the refugees from Jianghuai, those who had crossed Tianzhu Mountain under Lei Xu to seek refuge.
The air was still cold, and the season had not yet reached the time for rice planting. But survival did not wait for seasons.
Beans, greens, anything that could grow quickly would have to suffice.
Watching them work the soil with curved plows, Liu Bei slowed his steps slightly.
He did not disturb them.
Instead, he simply watched for a moment before moving on.
To the south, along the banks of the Hu Du River, the papermaking workshop had taken shape.
Even from a distance, one structure stood out.
A massive waterwheel.
It was far larger than the common designs, nearly three times their size.
Unlike the hand-operated versions, this one turned steadily under the force of the current alone.
Each rib ended in a bucket that dipped into the river, lifting water upward before emptying it automatically into the channels leading toward the workshop.
Where once there had been only a single structure, now an entire cluster of buildings had risen.
Workers moved back and forth, carrying materials, their movements quick and purposeful.
Liu Bei stopped a passing laborer.
"How is this waterwheel performing?"
The man was about to brush him aside, but upon recognizing Liu Bei, he immediately straightened and bowed.
"Lady Huang's wheel works extremely well! It draws water on its own, requires no manpower, and even powers mechanisms to pound pulp and grind materials!"
Under his explanation, Liu Bei gradually understood.
The craftsmen had initially been at a loss, but Huang Yueying had personally directed the construction, leaving them completely convinced.
Privately, they had already begun calling it "Lady Huang's Wheel."
"It is just a pity that Zuo Bo paper has not yet been produced," the worker added, his tone tinged with regret. "Lady Huang says the issue may lie in the pulp mixture. She has been testing it with several master papermakers."
Liu Bei nodded, satisfied.
At least here, progress was tangible.
But no matter how much he delayed, there was still one matter he could not avoid.
Chanling.
Lady Sun.
The thought alone made his steps grow slightly heavier.