"Ready… loose!"
At a small training ground in Gong'an County, several veteran soldiers tightened their grip on finely crafted bows. At the command, they steadied their aim, drew in one smooth motion, and released.
The arrows flew as one.
An officer at the side hurried forward to inspect, then raised his voice to report.
"Seventy paces, arrows pierce leather! Eighty paces, arrows punch through wooden boards! Ninety paces, arrows strike the wooden target!"
"A fine bow," Huang Zhong praised.
In recent days, he had grown noticeably more spirited. Ever since word arrived from Nan Commandery that a distant kinsman intended to pass a son into his line, the old general seemed to have shed years from his bearing, no longer weighed down by that lingering air of decline.
"Indeed, a fine bow," Zhuge Liang agreed.
Today, only the three of them stood by the training ground: Liu Bei, Huang Zhong, and Zhuge Liang. Since the demonstration focused on bows and crossbows, Huang Zhong had been invited to give his assessment.
"Jiangdong soldiers are skilled in archery, so their bowyers are many," Huang Zhong said as he took up a long bow. With only a slight exertion, he drew it nearly to full, then released without much effort at aiming.
The arrow shot forward like a streak of light, striking clean through the target at a hundred paces.
"A pity," Huang Zhong said after a moment, "that such a bow sells for only six hundred coins. Even master bowyers can scarcely keep themselves fed."
He shook his head.
Among standard military equipment, longbows were the cheapest. The south had no shortage of good bows or skilled craftsmen, yet their livelihood remained poor. The reason was simple. Han battle formations favored direct clashes, and in such conditions, crossbows had long overtaken bows in practical use.
"General Huang's skill is unmatched," Zhuge Liang said sincerely. Then he gestured to the side. "But if our army possessed the Eight-Ox Crossbow, how would you respond?"
Under Liu Bei and Huang Zhong's curious gaze, a massive wooden frame, nearly the size of a bed, was pushed forward by attendants. It was covered in oiled cloth.
Zhuge Liang stepped forward and carefully removed the covering.
Huang Zhong's eyes immediately sharpened.
Mounted upon it were three enormous bows.
Truly enormous. Each limb was nearly twice the size of the three-dan bow in his hand, all bound together with mechanical braces and pulleys.
Even without fully understanding it, the structure carried a kind of brutal, deliberate beauty unique to weapons of war. Huang Zhong stepped forward almost instinctively, examining it in detail before asking,
"Military advisor, how is this operated?"
"Not by human strength alone," Zhuge Liang replied, pointing to the large winding wheels at the rear. "Set the mechanism."
Several soldiers stepped forward, securing thick ropes onto the winding system.
A massive bolt was then lifted with care and set into place.
"At the signal," Zhuge Liang said calmly.
The wheels began to turn.
The mechanism creaked as tension built, the three great bows slowly bending under the immense force being drawn into them.
The sound alone made Huang Zhong's scalp prickle.
In his youth, he had once overstrained a heavy bow and snapped it in half. The memory remained vivid, especially the sound just before it broke.
This was that same sound.
When the mechanism could be drawn no further, an officer carrying an axe stepped carefully behind the frame and brought it down hard upon a restraining cord.
A sharp snap rang out.
A violent gust burst forward.
Only a heartbeat later came the distant crash.
Looking ahead, a great tree two hundred paces away had been split cleanly in half, while the bolt itself had vanished without a trace.
Huang Zhong could not help but click his tongue.
"With such power, the name Eight-Ox is no exaggeration."
"Not quite," Zhuge Liang said with a trace of regret. "Perhaps the methods passed down from later generations differ, or perhaps we have yet to grasp certain critical mechanisms."
"As it stands, if we truly applied the full force implied by its name, the weapon itself would fail before it could fire."
At that moment, the officer sent to retrieve the bolt returned empty-handed.
"At four hundred eighty paces, the bolt buried itself into the ground. It cannot be recovered."
"Nearly five hundred paces…" Huang Zhong murmured, deeply shaken.
Such range was terrifying.
"Unfortunately, accuracy remains difficult," Zhuge Liang added.
Huang Zhong's expression turned complicated.
A weapon with such range alone was already fearsome. If it could also strike precisely where aimed, then a battle might be decided before armies even clashed, the enemy commander felled from afar.
Yet with years of experience guarding Jingzhou, a thought quickly formed in his mind.
"Military advisor, in that case…"
Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang exchanged a glance.
Their eyes lit up at once.
"Good."
---
Five days later, at the county office of Gong'an.
Liu Bei sat at the head as his trusted generals and advisors entered one by one.
This time, Guan Yu arrived first, a rare hint of excitement on his face.
"Elder brother," he reported, "the Eight-Ox Crossbow designed by the military advisor works excellently when mounted on ships. The river and the Hudu River are now secure."
Liu Bei nodded slowly.
That day, Huang Zhong's suggestion had been simple. If such a crossbow could be mounted on city walls, then it could surely be mounted upon ships as well.
Compared to standard repeating crossbows, a few solid hits from this weapon might even bring down a tower ship.
Zhuge Liang had accepted the idea immediately and deployed it under Guan Yu's command. The results now spoke for themselves.
Soon after, Zhuge Liang arrived together with Huang Yueying.
Huang Yueying and Zizhong presented a proposal to formally expand the papermaking workshop, something Liu Bei was already aware of.
The plan to print official bulletins had been postponed. Zhuge Liang's reasoning was clear. Their current paper output was still far below Cao Cao's. If the method spread too early, it might instead benefit their enemy.
Zizhong had already made preparations to travel to Jiangdong to establish a paper business. Once the next appearance of the Light Screen concluded, he would set out.
As for Zhuge Liang, his responsibilities only grew heavier. Agriculture, weapon development, taxation, and even research into coal quality and extraction methods alongside Jiang Wan all demanded his attention.
Just then, Jiang Wan entered, looking as unmotivated as ever. He gave a brief salute before taking his seat beside Zhuge Liang with practiced ease.
Not long after, Zhang Fei, Huang Zhong, and Zhao Yun arrived together and seated themselves near Guan Yu, naturally forming around him.
As Zizhong and Sun Qian took their places, two new faces appeared among them.
Zhuge Liang waved with a bright smile.
"Jichang, over here. I've saved you a seat."
Ma Liang greeted Liu Bei before taking his place. Like Jiang Wan, he immediately prepared brush and paper, drawing a look of quiet approval.
Then Liu Bei rose and warmly grasped the hands of the last arrival.
"Zifang, my brother!"
Mi Fang bowed properly.
"My lord."
After exchanging a few words, he took his seat beside Zizhong, though confusion lingered on his face.
"Brother, what is today's gathering for? Why have we all been called to attend?"
Zizhong's gaze held a trace of satisfaction. This younger brother who had followed him through hardship was finally being entrusted by their lord.
"There is something worth seeing," he said meaningfully. "Just wait."
---
Far away in Chang'an, inside Ganlu Hall, the summer heat pressed down without mercy.
A man with the kind of bearing that needed no introduction sat with both feet submerged in a bucket of ice, sighing with audible relief as the cold worked through him.
An open book lay beside him. A light screen shimmered across its pages.
The title across the top read:
With the Strength of One Commandery Against All Under Heaven: The Day the Land Trembled Before Guan Yu!
Next to the book was a set of handwritten notes. They read:
•The Immortal suggests reclaiming the Western Regions. Thus, the shame of the Wei River must be washed away!
•What is 'Mongol'? Must be cautious. Locate and eliminate them early.
•Establish a Martial Temple to stabilize the people. However, sixty-four generals are too many. Worship Jiang Ziya, with thirty-six generals accompanying.
•Who is Emperor Suzong of Tang?
In the margins, there was a crude, wobbly sketch of a crossbow carriage, so ugly it was almost painful to look at.
Watching the light screen on the page, a flash of excitement crossed the man's face. He picked up a brush and wrote directly onto the glow:
"This battle carries a trace of my own brilliance at the banks of the Ming River."