The sudden prospect of his youngest daughter entering the halls of the Taixue Academy successfully wiped out any interest Old Man Li had in his second son's romantic drama.
The soap opera involving the paper mill brawl and the grateful Widow Qian was instantly relegated to yesterday's news.
Old Man Li knew about the academy. He had passed by its perimeter before, but he had dismissed it early on because the public notices mentioned strict age brackets. It had simply never crossed his mind that the institution would open its doors to girls.
Then again, the official at the silk market was a direct representative of Liu Bei's administration. If a government bureaucrat said the school was accepting female students, then the policy was as real as the stone walls of the city.
The next morning, before the sun could even burn through the heavy Chengdu mist, Old Man Li dragged himself out of bed.
He rumbled through the courtyard, roused his daughter, and marched her through the morning routine.
They washed up with cold water, smoothed out their plain robes, and headed straight for the grand administrative compound.
Now the place looked more like a government marketplace than an untouchable royal fortress.
The outer avenues were crowded from sunrise onward. Refugees carrying registration slips stood shoulder to shoulder with merchants, craftsmen, junior clerks, and military couriers. Ox carts loaded with bamboo documents rolled in and out of the compound gates nonstop.
Old Man Li even spotted a farmer arguing loudly with a tax official while holding a chicken under one arm.
Nobody dragged the man away for disrespecting authority. Two nearby guards merely watched the argument with exhausted expressions.
His daughter walked close beside him, her eyes darting around nervously.
"Father," she whispered, "are we really allowed to enter?"
"Of course," Old Man Li replied immediately, though internally he was slightly less confident.
The closer they got to the administrative halls, the stranger the atmosphere became. Young scholars carrying bundles of books jogged between buildings at full speed. Several officials sat beneath temporary awnings reviewing stacks of household registrations.
A group of engineers surrounded a large wooden model of what looked like an irrigation system, arguing so intensely that one of them nearly knocked over an inkstone.
Nobody looked relaxed.
This entire government seemed to operate like a war camp disguised as a city administration.
At the eastern side of the compound stood the newly expanded Taixue Academy. The building lacked the ancient prestige of the great academies from Luoyang or Chang'an. Its walls were too new. The timber still smelled fresh. Parts of the outer courtyard were visibly under construction.
But the place radiated energy.
Rows of students sat inside open-air lecture halls while instructors walked between them carrying bamboo rods and scrolls. Some students practiced calligraphy. Others debated legal codes out loud. One courtyard was filled entirely with children learning arithmetic using counting rods spread across wooden tables.
Old Man Li froze.
There were girls.
Not many, but enough that it clearly was not some clerical mistake. Most wore plain clothing from refugee families.
One girl had patched sleeves.
Another was visibly older than the others and looked uncomfortable sitting among younger students.
Yet nobody drove them out.
Near the registration desk, a tired-looking clerk adjusted his bamboo slips and called out mechanically, "Name. Age. Household district."
Old Man Li quickly nudged his daughter forward.
The clerk glanced up briefly. "Applying for textile specialization or general literacy?"
Old Man Li blinked. His daughter blinked harder.
The clerk repeated the question with the dead-eyed patience of a man who had already processed two hundred applicants before breakfast.
"Textile specialization. Or general literacy."
His daughter hesitantly raised her hand a little. "Can... can I choose both?"
The clerk finally paused. He looked at the young girl properly for the first time, then shrugged.
"If your examination scores are high enough, nobody will stop you."
He dipped his brush into the inkstone. "Commandery of origin? Full name?"
Old Man Li stepped in quickly. "Shanyang Commandery in Yanzhou. The Li clan."
The young scholar looked at the father, then at the daughter, and shook his head with a faint sigh. "Old man, Lord Liu Bei gave us explicit instructions on this matter. If a student wishes to enter the academy, even a daughter must possess a proper given name."
"Otherwise, this facility becomes a bureaucratic nightmare. We already have nearly a dozen girls registered under the Liu clan name, and close to a hundred under the Li family. If we do not assign unique names, how are the instructors supposed to hand out grade reports?"
Old Man Li opened his mouth to reply, but the words failed him.
The logic was flawless, yet it presented an immediate problem. He scratched his chin, looking stressed. "But she truly does not have a formal name. We have always just called her Little Sister."
The clerk leaned over his desk, looking past Old Man Li's shoulder. A line of three or four other families had already formed behind them, clutching their own identity documents. The bureaucratic machinery needed to keep moving.
"The Shijing contains a verse," the clerk said, his fingers twisting the brush with practiced ease. "A gentle maiden is beautiful and elegant. Why don't we register her as Li Shu? If that works for you, I will write it down right now. If it doesn't, I must ask you to step out of line, take the young lady home, choose a name, and come back tomorrow."
"Li Shu it is," Old Man Li said instantly. He had no desire to walk all the way back across the city just to argue over syllables.
The clerk nodded and finally began the formal registration process.
He pulled out a fresh bamboo slip and started writing with rapid, practiced strokes.
"Li Shu. Female. Refugee household from Shanyang Commandery. Basic literacy confirmed."
As the brush scratched across the bamboo surface, Old Man Li suddenly experienced an extremely strange sensation.
It felt official.
Not "official" in the terrifying old imperial sense where clerks existed solely to extort peasants and scream about regulations. This felt different. His daughter's existence had just been acknowledged by the state itself.
Not as somebody's future wife.
Not as an unnamed attachment to the Li household.
As Li Shu.
The old man stood there silently for several seconds.
The scholar continued speaking without looking up. "The academy provides basic writing materials for new students. Meals are subsidized. Textile specialization students receive practical apprenticeships after evaluation."
Old Man Li blinked. "Meals too?"
The scholar finally looked up again, mildly confused by the question.
"Of course. Some of the younger students come from refugee families. If they cannot eat, they cannot study."
The answer was delivered with such matter-of-fact logic that Old Man Li almost felt embarrassed for asking.
Behind him, another parent in line quietly muttered, "The grain tax money is finally doing something useful."
Several nearby fathers nodded in immediate agreement.
The scholar pretended not to hear any of it.
Instead, he reached beneath the desk and produced a thin wooden identity tablet.
One side had the academy insignia carved into it. The other side was blank except for fresh ink.
He handed it directly to Li Shu.
"Do not lose this. If you lose it, you will spend half a month dealing with replacement paperwork."
Li Shu accepted the tablet carefully with both hands, as though receiving a sacred relic.
"Students are divided into rotating instructional groups," the clerk continued. "You will report here again in three days. Morning bell. Do not arrive late. The legal studies instructor enjoys assigning punishment essays."
Li Shu nodded so quickly that several loose strands of hair bounced around her cheeks.
The scholar pointed toward the moon gate.
"You may enter now and familiarize yourself with the grounds. But avoid the western courtyard unless you enjoy being hit by flying measuring rods from the engineering department."
Old Man Li looked instinctively toward the indicated direction.
A loud crash immediately echoed from somewhere deep inside the academy grounds, followed by furious shouting.
"Who designed this support frame?"
"It was your calculation!"
"My calculation assumed you understood basic geometry!"
Old Man Li slowly turned back toward the clerk.
The young scholar sighed deeply, clearly exhausted beyond human comprehension.
"The Ministry of Works trainees," he explained. "They have not slept properly in weeks."
Li Shu clutched her wooden tablet against her chest and looked through the moon gate with shining eyes.
Beyond the entrance, the academy courtyards buzzed with movement. Students hurried between lecture halls carrying scrolls and counting rods. Instructors lectured beneath hanging banners.
Somewhere deeper inside, someone was loudly reciting passages from the Shijing.
For the first time since fleeing Shanyang, Li Shu felt the future opening in front of her.
---
The scholar scribbled the characters onto a small wooden token, blew on the wet ink to dry it, and slid it across the desk into her hands.
He gestured for them to head inside, where the administrative assistants would guide them to their assigned classroom. Without a moment's delay, he cleared his throat and called out to the next family in line.
"Commandery of origin? Full name? Can the applicant read?"
"From Langzhong," a young voice replied confidently. "My name is Hu Du. The Hu from the old fox verse, and the Du meaning sincere and profound."
Li Shu turned her head slightly as she walked through the gate. She saw a boy whose height matched her own. He had come to register entirely on his own, and his command of language made it obvious that he was highly literate.
She found herself admiring his calm demeanor and his effortless education.
The scholar behind the desk looked mildly surprised.
"You explained the characters yourself?"
Hu Du nodded politely. "My teacher said it saves everyone time."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of the scholar's mouth as he lowered his brush to the ledger.
Old Man Li, meanwhile, was still staring at the boy with unconcealed envy.
Look at that composure. If my own second son had been sent alone to register for school, the idiot probably would have gotten distracted halfway there and joined a street brawl.
As Old Man Li navigated the path past the moon gate, two figures stepped out from an intersecting corridor. He quickly pulled his daughter to the side of the walkway to give them room.
---
The two gentlemen possessed striking features and wore elegant, crisp robes. They offered a polite, brief nod to the old man before continuing their conversation as they walked away. Their voices drifted back through the courtyard.
"Yuanzhi left in such a hurry to catch the river transport. I cannot believe we forgot to hand him the shipment for Jingzhou."
"We should dispatch a fast courier on a light skiff. If the rower moves with the current, he can easily intercept the transport before it clears the gorges."
Kongming paused briefly, turning his head to glance back toward the moon gate. He watched another newly registered student disappear into the academy building, wooden token clutched tightly in her hands.
A faint smile touched his face.
"Another female student."
Beside him, Liu Ba gave a small nod. "The policy is finally taking effect."
"In these times, families usually keep daughters at the looms from childhood onward," Liu Ba continued. "A skilled weaver can support an entire household. Convincing parents to spare that labor for schooling was never going to be easy."
Kongming folded his sleeves behind his back. "That is precisely why the state must intervene. If every girl spends her life inside a workshop, where will future teachers, clerks, physicians, and accountants come from?"
Liu Ba quietly sighed. "Every time you say things like that, I can physically feel the treasury crying."
Kongming laughed softly.
The moment passed quickly. The two ministers resumed walking toward the main administrative offices, their conversation naturally returning to military logistics.
---
The previous evening had originally been planned as nothing more than a simple farewell dinner for Xu Shu before his departure to Jingzhou. A small hotpot gathering among old friends.
Then somebody opened stronger wine.
After that, the entire event collapsed into chaos.
By midnight, Zhang Fei was loudly insisting he could still wrestle a warhorse. Fa Zheng was trying to explain frontier policy to a decorative lantern.
Liu Ba had vanished halfway through the drinking session to protect the finance records from accidental destruction.
Xu Shu himself boarded the river transport boat completely drunk, standing at the stern singing old frontier marching songs into the darkness while the boatmen stared at him in alarm.
Under those circumstances, it was hardly surprising that Kongming forgot the shipment.
---
First thing in the morning, Kongming had tracked down Liu Ba, who held absolute authority over the state's commercial shipping, to secure a fast military skiff.
Liu Ba approved the request immediately. Within an hour, a sleek narrow vessel crewed by six elite guards was already cutting through the river current.
The boat carried one wooden crate and two smaller containers, racing east toward Jingzhou.
The skiff sped along the southern waterways, entered the Han River, then merged into the broader eastern channels.
As they passed the docks near Jiangzhou, several guards glanced toward the shoreline. The massive wharves were stacked with piles of dense black stone.
"Governor Cheng Ji truly does not sleep," the lead guard remarked while watching the busy docks.
With the ice broken, the others gradually joined the conversation while keeping their oars moving.
"This is the same Cheng Ji who governed Jiangyang before, correct? The one our lord visited personally?"
"The very same. Back when our lord first entered Yi Province, he went directly to Cheng Ji's estate to secure his neutrality. The man understands infrastructure better than half the court engineers."
"He was the one who organized the new coal extraction sites?"
"Correct. Chancelor Zhuge publicly praised him last week. Said the coal reserves carried the entire winter metallurgy program."
The guards exchanged impressed looks.
"Our lord truly has an eye for talent."
That opinion was nearly universal within Liu Bei's administration. Naturally, once the topic of talented officials surfaced, the conversation drifted toward the previous ruler of the province.
"How is General Zhenwei handling retirement in Jiangling?" one of the oarsmen asked.
Liu Bei had deliberately preserved Liu Zhang's dignity by granting him the honorary title of General Zhenwei after the transfer of power.
A guard near the stern snorted softly.
"Our lord treated him generously enough. He kept his wealth, his household, his servants, his estates. Materially speaking, he probably lives more comfortably now than when he governed Yizhou."
"Material comfort is one thing," another guard muttered. "Peace of mind is another."
He tilted his chin eastward.
"General Guan Yu is stationed nearby. If I had spent years opposing the man, I would not sleep comfortably either."
Several guards laughed quietly.
One younger soldier lowered his voice dramatically. "I heard General Guan Yu once glared at a bandit across a river and scared the man into surrendering on the spot."
The older veterans immediately burst into louder laughter.
"That story gets more ridiculous every month."
"Last time I heard it, the bandit surrendered before General Guan Yu even opened his eyes."
The skiff continued racing downstream while the guards joked among themselves, the morning mist rolling past the riverbanks.
---
As the guards traded jokes with one another, the towering green cliffs of the Three Gorges swept past the boat in a blur.
By the time the shipment finally arrived at the military headquarters in Jiangling, dawn was already breaking over the river.
Guan Yu studied the stacked crates with mild curiosity.
"A delivery from Kongming?"
Standing nearby, Xu Shu rubbed his temples. The wine from Chengdu still lingered in his skull like a dull hammer. Then his expression shifted slightly in realization.
"Ah... we drank too much last night." He let out a quiet sigh. "I completely forgot these were prepared before we departed."
He turned and offered a respectful salute toward the guards who had rowed through the night to deliver the cargo.
"You have my thanks for the hard work."
At the same time, Xu Shu silently swore to himself that he would never again board a transport vessel while drunk. It was terrible for efficiency.
Since the crates had already arrived, they might as well inspect them immediately.
The first small box contained a longsword.
A neatly folded strip of silk rested beneath the hilt. Xu Shu recognized Liu Bei's handwriting at once and read the note aloud.
"An old blade recovered from the Chengdu armory. The moment I picked it up, I felt it suited your temperament perfectly, Yuanzhi. Keep it by your side."
Xu Shu's eyes immediately brightened.
He slowly drew the sword halfway from its scabbard.
Cold steel flashed beneath the morning light. After testing the edge with careful satisfaction, he slid it back into place and gripped the scabbard firmly in his hand.
Clearly, he had no intention of parting with it anytime soon.
The second box contained dozens of compact black spheres packed tightly together.
Beside them sat another note, this one written in Kongming's hand.
Xu Shu lowered his head and quietly read through the instructions.
"These are smoke spheres refined by the Daoist alchemist Qing Song. Once exposed to open flame, they immediately release thick black smoke capable of obscuring vision within ten paces. Use them creatively."
Xu Shu read the message twice before laughing softly under his breath.
"Ah.. Classic Kongming style."
Guan Yu glanced sideways at him.
"He could not figure out what to do with them himself," Xu Shu explained dryly, "so now he is tossing the problem to me."
Before he could continue studying the strange devices, a deep metallic hum suddenly echoed through the hall.
"What a fine weapon."
Xu Shu turned around at once.
The largest crate had already been pried open.
Guan Yu stood beside it, one massive hand wrapped around the shaft of a heavy long-handled polearm as he slowly lifted it free from its velvet lining.
The blade gleamed coldly beneath the morning light.
A final note slipped loose from the crate and fluttered onto the floor.
Xu Shu bent down to pick it up.
There was only a single line written on the silk.
"Forged using low-sulfur coal from Zangke Commandery. Crafted according to the exact design shown within the celestial lightscreen."
Xu Shu only half understood what Liu Bei meant by that.
Guan Yu, however, understood immediately.
This was the very same weapon wielded by his future self in the historical projections.
The Green Dragon Crescent Blade.
The name suited it perfectly.
The curved steel blade resembled a crescent moon suspended atop the long shaft, while the faint patterns flowing across its surface looked almost like scales rippling beneath water.
---
At the mention of premium coal, Guan Yu recalled the complaints he had once heard from the master blacksmiths at the Gong'an docks.
Industrial fuel came in different grades. The coal that burned with the least harsh smoke always produced the finest steel, free of brittle flaws and impurities.
If the administration had classified this Zangke coal as premium quality, then the metallurgy behind the weapon had to be exceptional.
Guan Yu stepped into the training courtyard beside the hall. His eyes landed on a heavy ash-wood lance resting on a nearby weapon rack. Without hesitation, he gripped the long handle of his new crescent blade, turned his waist, and swung in one smooth motion.
The heavy blade cut through the thick lance effortlessly, like slicing through softened fat. The strike did not lose momentum at all. The edge continued downward and slammed several inches deep into the stone pavement beneath.
"Outstanding craftsmanship," Guan Yu said with clear satisfaction in his booming voice. He brushed a thumb along the flat of the blade. "No wonder my Big Brother rushed this all the way downriver. Inform my lord that Guan Yunchang will never bring shame upon this weapon."
Once the inspection was finished, the two men returned to the main hall and sat down again.
Xu Shu glanced at the massive crescent blade resting beside Guan Yu's chair, close enough to grab in an instant, and smiled knowingly.
"It seems Yunchang is eager for a true campaign."
Guan Yu did not bother hiding it behind polite words. He nodded directly.
"My Big Brother has claimed consecutive victories in Yizhou and Hanzhong. The western front advances like a raging fire, while we in Jingzhou have not moved forward even a single step. When I compare myself to my brother's accomplishments, I cannot help but feel ashamed."
Xu Shu shook his head.
"The capital has already heard the stories, Yunchang. Yue Jin only survived your last clash because our lord did not wish to ignite a war on multiple fronts. You spared him solely for the greater strategy."
The excitement in Guan Yu's eyes dimmed slightly. He stroked his long beard and ignored the praise for his self-restraint. Instead, he focused on the real issue.
"Do we finally have an opportunity to act?"
Xu Shu folded his hands together, his expression turning grave.
"At present, Cao Cao has concentrated his primary strategic reserves in three separate locations: Xiangyang, Guanzhong, and Shouchun."
He rose from his seat and approached the enormous silk map hanging across the center wall.
"The Xiangyang line was built to pin down your movements. Shouchun exists to keep Sun Quan's eastern army in check. Which leaves Guanzhong, the region Cao Cao planned to use as the foundation of his control over the northwest. But Pang Tong's forces at Hanzhong have already disrupted those plans. Right now, the northern armies are stuck. They cannot push forward or pull back without leaving their flanks exposed."
Xu Shu lifted a finger and slowly traced a line from Xuchang in the north all the way down to the Xiangyang and Fancheng corridor.
"Cao Cao already knows our lord controls the southwest. His strategists will almost certainly advise him to launch a major campaign into Jingzhou after the summer harvest, probably around August, once supplies are secured and the grain is gathered."
He turned toward Guan Yu again, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes.
"So why give him that time? Why wait for his logistics to be complete? Strike first and make him react to us."
Guan Yu's attention sharpened immediately. His eyes followed Xu Shu's hand as it circled Xiangyang before sliding toward Hanzhong.
"And there is something else," Xu Shu said with a thin smile.
"I know Pang Tong well. The moment he hears Jingzhou has engaged the enemy, he will send elite detachments out from Hanzhong to pressure Guanzhong. If both fronts ignite at the same time, Cao Cao's supply network will be stretched to the limit. They will be forced to answer two crises simultaneously. Their efficiency will collapse, their transport animals will wear out, and weaknesses will start appearing everywhere. That is where we win."
Guan Yu stroked his beard faster than usual, deep in thought. He had always preferred overwhelming momentum over overly complicated strategy.
To him, Xu Shu's proposal was brilliant precisely because of its simplicity.
Cao Cao intended to wait until the harvest was complete and his supply lines were stable before marching south.
Xu Shu's plan overturned that logic entirely. If the enemy wanted to move after the wheat had been harvested, then they would attack while it still stood in the fields.
From a logistical standpoint, both Jingzhou and Hanzhong operated on internal lines. They needed fewer troops to defend their territory, which made their supply burden far lighter than that of a northern army marching across hundreds of li of barren land.
The real question was whether Guan Yu could hold down a larger enemy force in open battle, and whether Jingzhou and Hanzhong could coordinate effectively despite the enormous communication delays caused by the mountain ranges.
The issue of fighting while outnumbered did not concern Guan Yu at all. His entire career had been built on overcoming those odds.
As for the coordination between the two armies, he placed complete trust in the man standing before him.
Guan Yu reached for the Green Dragon Crescent Blade and wrapped his hand around the long shaft.
He lifted the heavy weapon with ease, its polished steel glinting beneath the morning light.
"Then we move," Guan Yu said, his voice low and filled with quiet menace. "We take Xiangyang."