By late April, an uneasy stillness had settled over the Guanzhong region.
Just one year earlier, the land beyond the mountain passes had been drowning in war banners, refugee columns, and endless smoke from burned supply camps. Armies had marched back and forth across the valleys like hungry wolves tearing at the same carcass.
Now the roads were calm.
Inside the administrative compound of Hanzhong, Pang Tong casually tossed a finished military report onto the corner of his desk and walked out into the courtyard to stretch his back.
The sunlight was warm. A soft mountain breeze drifted through the cypress trees.
Pang Tong slowly rolled his shoulders before beginning a sequence of exercises involving controlled breathing and wide arm movements.
Ever since the heavenly light screen started casually revealing how many brilliant historical figures died young from overwork, disease, assassination, stress, starvation, or pure bad luck, Pang Tong had developed an intense awareness of his own lifespan.
Apparently, being a genius strategist did not automatically protect a man from dying horribly in his thirties.
The future records explicitly claimed he was supposed to get himself killed at a place called Luofeng Po, Fallen Phoenix Slope, during the Jingzhou campaigns.
Ridiculous, right? And what in heaven's name kind of place is that? Who names a location specifically to curse someone?
Absolutely unacceptable.
Pang Tong had already decided that if heaven expected him to die at Luofeng Po, then Luofeng Po would have to find someone else to curse. He and that slope were never crossing paths. Heaven could wait.
So now he exercised. He regulated his sleep.
He even reduced his nightly drinking. His old teacher would probably faint on the spot if he saw this level of self-discipline.
Pang Tong completed another slow motion with his arms and steadied his breathing. Only then did he notice movement near the edge of the courtyard.
Jiang Wei was standing several paces away, seriously attempting to imitate the exercises.
The boy balanced awkwardly on one leg, arms extended stiffly outward, his expression carrying the same intense concentration he usually reserved for military maps.
A moment later, he wobbled violently and nearly tipped sideways.
Pang Tong burst out laughing at the sight.
"Boy, if you keep shaking like that, people will think Hanzhong's walls are collapsing."
He walked over, grabbed Jiang Wei lightly by the shoulders, and adjusted his stance by force.
"Straighten your back. Relax the hips. Your legs are too stiff."
Jiang Wei immediately corrected himself with complete seriousness.
"Master, what kind of martial technique is this?"
"It's called the Five Animal Technique," Pang Tong replied while circling around him critically. "A health exercise created by the divine physician Hua Tuo. They say regular practice strengthens the body and extends one's lifespan."
Jiang Wei's eyes instantly widened.
"A technique of the immortals?"
Pang Tong almost laughed again.
"Not quite that exaggerated."
The boy hesitated briefly before asking with genuine hope, "Then... can Master teach it to my father too?"
Pang Tong's expression softened slightly.
"Of course. The physician who created these exercises wanted everyone to benefit from them. The more who practice, the better."
As he spoke, Pang Tong shifted smoothly into another stance.
"This is the Tiger form."
He demonstrated the posture slowly this time so Jiang Wei could follow properly.
"Bend the left knee further. Stretch the right leg. Lower your center."
Jiang Wei obediently copied every movement.
"No, no, not like a wooden pole." Pang Tong stepped behind him and pressed down lightly on his shoulders. "Relax while staying rooted. Strength should sink downward."
The boy adjusted again.
"Good."
Pang Tong nodded approvingly and raised both hands into claw-like shapes.
"Focus your breathing here." He tapped lightly against Jiang Wei's lower abdomen. "Control the breath first, then the movement follows naturally."
Jiang Wei stared with complete concentration, afraid to miss even a single detail.
Pang Tong demonstrated the claw strike once more, pressing downward with measured force.
The motion looked slow, but carried a strange sense of restrained power.
Pang Tong burst out laughing at the sight.
"Boy, if you keep shaking like that, people will think Hanzhong's walls are collapsing."
He walked over, grabbed Jiang Wei lightly by the shoulders, and adjusted his stance by force.
"Straighten your back. Relax the hips. Your legs are too stiff."
Jiang Wei immediately corrected himself with complete seriousness.
"Master, what kind of martial technique is this?"
"It's called the Five Animal Technique," Pang Tong replied while circling around him critically. "A health exercise created by the divine physician Hua Tuo. They say regular practice strengthens the body and extends one's lifespan."
Jiang Wei's eyes instantly widened.
"A technique of the immortals?"
Pang Tong almost laughed again.
"Not quite that exaggerated."
The boy hesitated briefly before asking with genuine hope, "Then... can Master teach it to my father too?"
Pang Tong's expression softened slightly.
"Of course. The physician who created these exercises wanted everyone to benefit from them. The more who practice, the better."
As he spoke, Pang Tong shifted smoothly into another stance.
"This is the Tiger form."
He demonstrated the posture slowly this time so Jiang Wei could follow properly.
"Bend the left knee further. Stretch the right leg. Lower your center."
Jiang Wei obediently copied every movement.
"No, no, not like a wooden pole." Pang Tong stepped behind him and pressed down lightly on his shoulders. "Relax while staying rooted. Strength should sink downward."
The boy adjusted again.
"Good."
Pang Tong nodded approvingly and raised both hands into claw-like shapes.
"Focus your breathing here." He tapped lightly against Jiang Wei's lower abdomen. "Control the breath first, then the movement follows naturally."
Jiang Wei stared with complete concentration, afraid to miss even a single detail.
Pang Tong demonstrated the claw strike once more, pressing downward with measured force.
The motion looked slow, but carried a strange sense of restrained power.
Jiang Wei held the posture with all the seriousness of a soldier standing inspection, his face scrunched tightly in concentration.
"Where is this great sage now?" he asked. "If Father learns this and his health improves, our family will owe him a debt. A son should repay the debts carried by his father."
Pang Tong's hand paused slightly.
The smile on his face weakened.
"The great sage..." He looked away toward the courtyard trees. "He was a wandering figure among the people. Someone who drifted through the world like an immortal riding the clouds."
Jiang Wei's eyes sparkled instantly.
"He rides cranes?"
Pang Tong coughed lightly. "Well... perhaps not literally."
Still, he avoided looking directly at the child's expression.
Inside, he let out a quiet sigh.
After the heavenly screen repeatedly emphasized the importance of medicine and public health, Kongming had immediately ordered people to search for one particular physician. Hua Tuo. The miracle doctor capable of opening flesh to treat disease. The man future generations practically described as a medical immortal.
Unfortunately, the search arrived too late.
Because Hua Tuo refused Cao Cao's repeated demands to remain permanently at court as a personal physician, the northern court eventually accused him of deceiving the ruler. He was imprisoned, tortured, and ultimately died inside a cold prison cell.
An absurd ending.
A man capable of saving countless lives had instead failed to save his own.
After his death, several surviving disciples fled south across the river into Jiangdong carrying fragments of his medical texts. Kongming's network eventually tracked them down and brought them safely into Jingzhou. That was how the Five Animal Technique survived. That was also how they learned the full story.
When Kongming first heard the report, he reportedly sat in silence for a very long time before quietly dismissing everyone from the room.
Pang Tong understood the feeling perfectly.
A civilization that could casually kill a man like Hua Tuo truly deserved every lecture the future historians hurled at it.
He pushed the heavy thoughts aside and lightly patted Jiang Wei on the head.
"Enough questions. Your Tiger stance still looks like an injured cat."
Pang Tong crouched again and shifted into the next posture.
"Now watch carefully. This one is the Bear form."
Jiang Wei immediately copied him with complete focus.
Children possessed a frightening ability to abandon one topic and leap into another without warning. Just moments ago, the boy had been deeply invested in the logistics of crane-riding immortals.
Jiang Wei held the posture with all the seriousness of a soldier standing inspection, his face scrunched tightly in concentration.
"Where is this great sage now?" he asked. "If Father learns this and his health improves, our family will owe him a debt. A son should repay the debts carried by his father."
Pang Tong's hand paused slightly.
The smile on his face weakened.
"The great sage..." He looked away toward the courtyard trees. "He was a wandering figure among the people. Someone who drifted through the world like an immortal riding the clouds."
Jiang Wei's eyes sparkled instantly.
"He rides cranes?"
Pang Tong coughed lightly. "Well... perhaps not literally."
Still, he avoided looking directly at the child's expression.
Inside, he let out a quiet sigh.
After the heavenly screen repeatedly emphasized the importance of medicine and public health, Kongming had immediately ordered people to search for one particular physician. Hua Tuo. The miracle doctor capable of opening flesh to treat disease. The man future generations practically described as a medical immortal.
Unfortunately, the search arrived too late.
Because Hua Tuo refused Cao Cao's repeated demands to remain permanently at court as a personal physician, the northern court eventually accused him of deceiving the ruler. He was imprisoned, tortured, and ultimately died inside a cold prison cell.
An absurd ending.
A man capable of saving countless lives had instead failed to save his own.
After his death, several surviving disciples fled south across the river into Jiangdong carrying fragments of his medical texts. Kongming's network eventually tracked them down and brought them safely into Jingzhou. That was how the Five Animal Technique survived. That was also how they learned the full story.
When Kongming first heard the report, he reportedly sat in silence for a very long time before quietly dismissing everyone from the room.
Pang Tong understood the feeling perfectly.
A civilization that could casually kill a man like Hua Tuo truly deserved every lecture the future historians hurled at it.
He pushed the heavy thoughts aside and lightly patted Jiang Wei on the head.
"Enough questions. Your Tiger stance still looks like an injured cat."
Pang Tong crouched again and shifted into the next posture.
"Now watch carefully. This one is the Bear form."
Jiang Wei immediately copied him with complete focus.
Children possessed a frightening ability to abandon one topic and leap into another without warning. Just moments ago, the boy had been deeply invested in the logistics of crane-riding immortals.
"Master, yesterday I saw that red-faced general leading soldiers north again," Jiang Wei said while wobbling through the Bear stance. "Are we going to war?"
Pang Tong immediately corrected him without even looking up.
"Do not call him 'red-faced general' in public. If he hears you, he will lecture you for an entire afternoon about military etiquette." He lazily pointed westward. "Address him properly as General Wei."
Jiang Wei nodded obediently. "Understood."
"General Huo already moved ahead earlier to construct defensive positions," Pang Tong continued. "General Wei is marching out to reinforce him."
Jiang Wei blinked. "Then... there will be fighting?"
Pang Tong smiled faintly.
"Quite the opposite. They are marching precisely so nobody fights."
The boy's face immediately twisted into confusion.
You send troops out... to prevent war?
The logic completely short-circuited his young brain.
Pang Tong watched him struggle for a moment before chuckling.
"One day you'll understand. The best military campaigns are the ones where the enemy loses the courage to attack in the first place."
---
Meanwhile, several hundred li to the north, Wei Yan understood the assignment perfectly.
His army emerged from the narrow Baoxie plank roads like floodwater escaping a canyon. Once the troops cleared the final mountain pass, the landscape suddenly opened into the broad plains of Guanzhong.
Even the hardened veterans behind him instinctively lifted their heads.
The view was magnificent.
And dominating the high ground to their left stood a massive military encampment. Tall watchtowers. Layered earthworks. Dense rows of sharpened anti-cavalry stakes. Signal banners snapping in the wind. The entire plateau looked like a steel nail hammered directly into the throat of Guanzhong.
Wuzhang Plains.
Upon hearing that reinforcements had arrived, Huo Jun personally rode out from the fortress gates to greet them.
Before the man could even speak, Wei Yan clasped his hands respectfully.
"I have long heard of General Huo's defensive mastery. Seeing this camp today, I finally understand why even Kongming praises your fortification work."
Huo Jun smiled modestly.
"The terrain itself deserves most of the credit. Wuzhang Plains is naturally easy to defend and difficult to assault. We merely followed Kongming's broader strategic design." He glanced toward the disciplined formation behind Wei Yan. "Besides, no fortress matters without capable soldiers defending it. With General Wei arriving personally, my own confidence has doubled."
The two exchanged several more polite formalities before entering the central command tent together.
The moment they stepped inside, Wei Yan's expression sharpened.
"I brought four thousand veteran troops," he said directly. "For this operation, I place both myself and my men under your command."
Huo Jun's posture straightened slightly.
That statement carried enormous weight.
Following his achievements during the Yizhou campaign and his flanking success at Yangping Pass, Liu Bei had already elevated Huo Jun to full general rank. Later, when Ma Chao secretly sent envoys seeking cooperation against Cao Cao, Pang Tong and Fa Zheng immediately seized the opportunity.
Their strategy was simple.
Send Huo Jun north through the Baoxie road.
Then let him do what he did best.
Turn the exit of the mountain corridor into an iron fortress nobody wanted to attack.
Their objective was simple.
Prevent Xiahou Yuan from slipping west to stab Ma Chao in the back.
If Hanzhong waited until Ma Chao sent an emergency request for aid, the battlefield would already be lost. By occupying Wuzhang Plains first, they effectively jammed a blade directly into the center of Guanzhong's movement routes.
It was a perfect support position.
As Pang Tong had bluntly summarized earlier:
"Ma Chao needs to get beaten badly enough to become obedient. But he absolutely cannot die."
At present, the autumn harvest was still far away. Huo Jun's original force numbered roughly three thousand men. Wei Yan had brought another four thousand veterans.
Seven thousand mouths.
Seven thousand soldiers consuming grain every single day.
Hanzhong's logistics network was already groaning under the pressure.
Inside the command tent, Huo Jun pointed toward the map spread across the table.
"Our scouts confirmed the latest reports. Xiahou Dun remains stationed in Chang'an with approximately forty thousand troops."
Wei Yan snorted. "Then officially he probably claims fifty thousand."
"Naturally."
Huo Jun calmly continued, "The forward garrison at Meixian directly opposite us is much smaller. Around five thousand men."
Wei Yan lowered his gaze toward the map.
His thoughts drifted involuntarily toward the heavenly broadcast.
Twenty years from now, Kongming himself would stand on these same plains, facing Sima Yi across the Wei River. The Chancellor would desperately seek battle while Sima Yi hid behind fortifications like a turtle refusing to leave its shell.
And eventually...
Kongming would die here.
The thought left an unpleasant feeling in Wei Yan's chest.
Suddenly, he slapped the table.
"My troops just arrived. Their morale is high. If we strike immediately, we could wipe out the Meixian force before they fully react."
Huo Jun immediately shook his head.
"No."
Wei Yan frowned. "Why?"
"Because war is ultimately a contest of grain."
Huo Jun tapped the northern supply routes on the map.
"Guanzhong has been devastated by years of fighting. Xiahou Yuan's entire army relies on shipments from Hebei. Forty thousand soldiers. Thousands of horses. Every grain has to travel hundreds of li through rivers, roads, and mountain corridors."
He calmly traced the route with his finger.
"For every ten carts they dispatch, perhaps only two or three arrive intact. Their logistics are already under severe strain."
Wei Yan's expression slowly shifted.
Huo Jun continued.
"The Cao army desperately wants a fast decisive battle. If we attack Meixian now and kill several thousand of their troops, what happens?"
Wei Yan opened his mouth slightly.
Then he understood.
Huo Jun smiled faintly.
"You would be helping solve their food shortage."
"A tactical victory," Wei Yan muttered.
"But a strategic loss," Huo Jun finished.
Wei Yan stared at him for several moments before suddenly laughing.
The entire situation carried a strange irony.
In the future timeline shown by the heavenly screen, Shu Han would constantly struggle against superior northern logistics and manpower.
But here?
The positions had reversed.
Now it was Cao Cao's side bleeding supplies into Guanzhong while Shu's forces hid behind mountain corridors.
"So what if Xiahou Yuan loses patience and attacks us directly?" Wei Yan asked.
Then he answered his own question before Huo Jun could speak.
"We retreat into the Baoxie roads."
A grin spread slowly across his face.
"We only have seven thousand men. Even if Xiahou Yuan personally drags a hundred thousand troops over here, the mountain path is too narrow for numbers to matter."
Huo Jun nodded approvingly.
"Back in Jingzhou, Kongming claimed he was borrowing from ancient military classics when teaching us these tactics." He folded his hands behind his back. "When the enemy advances, we retreat. When the enemy camps, we harass. When the enemy exhausts himself, we strike."
Wei Yan crossed his arms.
"So we simply sit here and wait for Cao Cao's treasury to start crying blood."
"Precisely."
Their analysis proved correct the following morning.
The Meixian garrison had clearly spotted Wei Yan's reinforcements arriving at Wuzhang Plains. Yet despite this, a Cao officer still rode directly to the outer perimeter at dawn, loudly hurling insults and demanding battle.
Standing atop the wooden watchtower, Wei Yan narrowed his eyes toward the enemy formation.
"Do we know who commands Meixian?"
Huo Jun thought briefly.
"If intelligence is correct... Xu Huang."
The air around Wei Yan went cold.
His grip tightened around his lance.
The memories from the heavenly broadcast resurfaced immediately. The flooded seven armies. Guan Yu surrounded. Xu Huang smiling and discussing old friendships before abruptly ordering the attack.
For a split second, murderous intent practically radiated off Wei Yan's body.
He wanted to ride out and split Xu Huang's skull open right there.
But reason eventually crushed the impulse.
This campaign mattered more than personal anger.
Wei Yan slowly exhaled and forced himself to loosen his grip.
"I'll allow that traitor to keep his head a little longer," he muttered coldly.
Still, the killing intent boiling inside Wei Yan needed somewhere to go.
He exchanged a glance with Huo Jun, then abruptly turned and strode down the watchtower steps.
Huo Jun remained atop the wall, instantly understanding what was about to happen.
Below, the thick wooden gates of the Wuzhang camp creaked open just wide enough for a single horseman to pass.
Wei Yan exploded out of the fortress like a released arrow.
The Cao officer outside was still midway through another stream of insults when he noticed the charging rider. His expression changed immediately. He yanked hard on the reins, trying to turn his horse around.
Too late.
Wei Yan crossed the distance in moments.
His lance shot forward with terrifying precision. The heavy spearhead punched straight through the officer's armor and hurled him clean off the saddle. The corpse slammed into the dirt so hard it rolled twice before stopping completely still.
Wei Yan did not even slow down.
He smoothly pulled his horse into a tight turning arc, circled once across the open ground, then calmly rode back toward the fortress.
The gates opened. Closed. That was it. The entire exchange lasted only a few breaths.
Then the Wuzhang defenders erupted.
Cheers thundered across the walls as soldiers slammed spear shafts against shields in excitement. The morale of the entire camp visibly surged upward.
Across the field, the Cao troops stood frozen in confusion.
Several officers immediately began shouting orders, trying to push infantry lines forward toward the gates. Clearly, they expected Wei Yan to continue the engagement.
They wanted a field battle.
Instead, the red-faced general had already disappeared back behind the wooden walls like nothing happened.
The fortress remained completely sealed.
After awkwardly standing in formation for a while longer and shouting several increasingly unconvincing insults toward the ramparts, the Cao troops finally lost momentum and began retreating back toward Meixian in frustration.
From atop the wall, Huo Jun could not help smiling slightly.
"Impressive martial skill."
Wei Yan casually wiped a streak of blood from the edge of his lance.
"I was merely helping reduce Cao Cao's grain consumption."
Several nearby officers nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Wei Yan rested the lance against his shoulder and looked southeast toward Jingzhou.
His expression slowly turned thoughtful.
He wondered how General Guan was doing now.
---
Ever since Liu Bei established his administration in Chengdu, the city limits had been crawling outward.
The primary catalyst was the endless stream of refugees. Yi Province was surrounded by mountains, isolated from the chaos of the central plains. Most peasants outside the region had no idea who Liu Bei was. But word of mouth was a powerful tool. Furthermore, Liu Bei ordered plain-text proclamations pasted on walls across every county in the province.
The message was simple. The government will give you land. The government will teach you a trade. The government will offer you credit to build a new house.
The secondary catalyst was a massive urban renewal project. Canals were dredged. Roads were widened and paved. The sprawling slums were slowly relocated to designated development zones on the city outskirts.
An official named Sun Qian managed this housing project. He sat with the displaced families, calculated their meager finances, and helped them secure government loans to build sturdy homes that kept the rain out.
The local Chengdu residents woke up one day and realized their city had practically doubled in size.
Among the newly minted residents, Patriarch Li from Zigui might have been the smuggest man in town.
When the fires of war approached Zigui, he forced his family to pack their bags and flee south. His two sons complained endlessly during the brutal trek. When they finally settled temporarily in Zigui, the boys wanted to put down roots. People were even offering marriage proposals for his young daughter.
Patriarch Li had simply slammed his walking stick on the ground and pointed west. They were going to Chengdu.
The transition was a blow to his ego. In Zigui, he owned a sprawling estate and commanded respect. In Chengdu, he crammed his family into a modest courtyard home. He devolved from "Lord Li" to "Old Man Li" overnight.
His sons never dared to openly defy him, but their passive-aggressive grumbling was a constant background noise in the house. Old Man Li spent weeks preparing a legendary lecture to put them in their place.
He never got to deliver it. The sheer momentum of Chengdu's economy fixed his sons for him.
Tonight, the family gathered around the wooden table for dinner. Old Man Li took a sip of cheap warm wine, tapped his clay bowl with his chopsticks, and officially opened the evening progress report.
"Eldest, how are things at the sugar refinery?"
The eldest son, a man with a wide, honest face, quickly put his bowl down. He placed his hands on his knees respectfully.
"The floor manager praised my diligence today. He said if our team hits the production quota for refined sugar this month, we get a generous cash bonus."
Old Man Li nodded in deep satisfaction. His eldest son was a rock. Boring, predictable, and hardworking. Back in Zigui, matchmakers harassed them daily. He rejected them all, viewing the local girls as unrefined. Now that they were in the booming capital and his son held a lucrative factory job, they could aim much higher on the social ladder.
He turned his gaze to his second son. A headache formed instantly behind his eyes.
Before he could even ask a question, the second son leaned forward. He sported a spectacular purple black eye.
"Some local thug at the paper mill tried to get handsy with Widow Qian near the pulp vats today," the second son declared proudly. "I could not just watch. I punched his teeth in."
He took a massive bite of rice before continuing.
"The manager docked the thug two days of pay. He yelled at me and told me to report things to management instead of starting brawls. But he still slipped me fifteen coins as a bonus."
Old Man Li gripped his walking stick. He seriously considered reaching across the table and smacking his idiot son. Fifteen coins would barely cover the medical ointment for that black eye.
"Oh, right," the second son mumbled, his eyes darting around the room. "Widow Qian asked if I was married. I told her no. She said she is coming over in two days to personally thank me for the help."
Old Man Li buried his face in his hands. He was actively plotting how to get this boy a new job in a different industry. Preferably something isolated.
Sitting quietly at the far end of the table, his youngest daughter raised a timid hand.
"I took the weaver examination today," she said softly. "The Silk Official said my embroidery passed."
The table went quiet. She shrank down a little.
"But the official said I am still too young to work the heavy looms. He suggested I enroll in the Little Taixue academy for two years instead. What do you think, Father?"
Old Man Li dropped his hands from his face. His eyes lit up like lanterns.
"Study!" he practically shouted. The headache caused by his second son vanished entirely. "Forget the looms. As long as the academy does not kick you out, you will stay in school and study!"
He poured himself another cup of wine, a massive grin spreading across his wrinkled face. For a brief moment, he actually regretted having his sons so early in life. If they were younger, he would have shoved them both into that academy too.
Outside the Li family courtyard, the nighttime streets of Chengdu still buzzed with life.
Oil lamps stretched down the widened avenues like glowing rivers. Mule carts creaked past carrying sacks of cane sugar, timber, bricks, and bundles of raw silk. Somewhere in the distance, metalworkers hammered away through the night shift. The sound blended with street vendors yelling over bowls of hot noodles and skewers of roasted meat.
The city barely slept anymore.
Old Man Li stepped outside with his wine cup after dinner and leaned against the doorway, watching the traffic roll past.
A few years ago, this entire district had been muddy farmland.
Now the government had dug drainage canals, paved the roads with packed stone, and installed public wells every few blocks. Even the night watch patrols looked healthier than the local magistrates back in Zigui.
Two drunken laborers stumbled past arguing loudly.
"The ironworks in the south district pays more."
"More my ass. The shipyards feed you lunch."
Old Man Li listened to the argument and nearly laughed into his cup.
This was an entirely different world from the chaos outside Yi Province. In other regions, peasants fled armies. In Chengdu, peasants argued over employee benefits.
A group of children sprinted through the street holding paper lanterns. One nearly crashed into him before hurriedly bowing.
"Sorry, Elder!"
Old Man Li waved him off casually.
Across the road, several newly arrived refugee families were unloading furniture from carts. The exhaustion on their faces was obvious, but so was the relief. Government clerks carrying bamboo ledgers guided them toward temporary housing compounds further inside the district.
"Names?"
"County of origin?"
"How many adults can work?"
The clerks moved with shocking efficiency.
Old Man Li watched quietly for a while before taking another sip of wine.
Back in Zigui, powerful local clans monopolized everything. Land, grain storage, workshops, river trade. A common family could struggle for three generations and still never climb upward.
Chengdu felt different.
Messier, louder, more crowded. But alive.
Factories needed workers. Schools needed students. Construction crews needed laborers. Even his disaster of a second son somehow managed to find stable employment despite behaving like a rabid dog with fists.
Old Man Li suddenly clicked his tongue.
Actually, now that he thought about it, Widow Qian visiting in two days might not be a bad thing.
His second son was hopeless at farming, terrible at bookkeeping, and emotionally incapable of minding his own business. But at least the boy had enough courage to defend a woman in public.
In chaotic times, that counted for something.
A cold breeze drifted through the street.
Old Man Li looked up toward the distant glow of the inner city, where the lights of the government offices still burned deep into the night.
Somewhere in there, Liu Bei and his ministers were probably still awake, arguing over taxes, grain shipments, military maps, and refugee quotas.
Old Man Li raised his wine cup slightly toward the skyline.
Whatever historians a thousand years later might say about kings and heroes, ordinary people understood one truth better than anyone else.
A government was good if your children could eat. Better if they could study. Better still if they could dream about tomorrow without fear.