Lu Su could feel it more and more clearly.
The great ship called Sun Wu was becoming harder and harder to steer.
The twenty thousand troops Lu Meng brought with him did not drastically change the strategic balance by themselves. But their presence carried a meaning that made Lu Su deeply uncomfortable.
Sun Quan was no longer concentrating forces at Ruxu in preparation for another northern campaign.
Instead, he was heavily reinforcing Jiangxia. Worse still, Lu Meng's authority seemed strangely independent from Lu Su's own chain of command.
That was the part Lu Su really did not like.
If he wanted to be optimistic, he could tell himself that his lord had merely been influenced by Lu Meng's aggressive lobbying and temporary war fever.
If he chose to interpret the situation from the darkest possible angle, the question wrote itself. Is my Lord seriously considering the backstab business?
The implications were genuinely terrifying.
Lu Su sharply shook the thought from his mind.
Sitting alone atop the fortress walls and mentally spiraling into political paranoia would accomplish absolutely nothing.
The only sensible option was to write a direct letter to his lord, ask for clarification, and wait until Lu Meng actually arrived before judging the man's intentions.
With that rough plan settled, Lu Su turned away from the massive warship anchored in the distance and slowly descended the stone steps.
Back in his office, Lu Su unrolled a pristine sheet of Sun Wu's newly developed Marquis Sun paper.
Then a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
He opened a lacquered wooden box nearby and pulled out a letter Kongming had sent him several days earlier.
If you were not paying attention, Kongming's letters always looked ordinary. But his correspondence was deceptive. He had a habit of burying important questions inside routine complaints, like hiding a blade in a basket of vegetables.
Most of this particular letter consisted of polite grumbling about the logistical nightmare of managing the tribes in Nanzhong. Grain shortages. Tribal infighting. The usual headaches. Then, wedged between a paragraph about rice shipments and a complaint about unreliable local guides, was a seemingly casual question.
Kongming mentioned hearing rumors about a talented young official in Sun Wu named Lu Yi and casually asked for Lu Su's opinion of him.
When Lu Su first read the letter, he had actually paused to think for a while.
Lu Yi... who was that again?
He had to dig through his memory before finally recalling the vague image of a junior official with almost no political presence whatsoever.
How was he supposed to evaluate someone he barely even remembered existed?
What opinion could he even have?
More importantly, Kongming was all the way out in the mountains of Yizhou.
How in Heaven's name did that absurdly specific name end up on his desk?
Kongming... are you secretly switching professions or something?
What next? Fortune-telling? Spirit summoning?
Still, Lu Su pushed aside the increasingly suspicious geopolitical implications.
That was not why he had retrieved the letter.
The real reason was much more important.
Quality testing. Very serious quality testing.
He held Kongming's letter in one hand and the Marquis Sun paper in the other.
First, he rubbed the paper fibers carefully with his thumb.
Then he raised both sheets toward the oil lamp to compare their translucency.
Finally, with the concentration of a scholar conducting state-level research, Lu Su carefully tore off a tiny corner of Kongming's letter, held it above a bronze basin, and lit it on fire. He silently watched the ash crumble apart.
Lu Su slowly let out a breath of relief.
The paper used by the Yizhou administration was practically on the same level as Marquis Sun paper. According to internal reports, Sun Wu's craftsmen were already experimenting with new chemical treatments to improve paper quality even further.
So the famously absurd engineering department in Jiangling was not completely invincible after all.
That realization gave Lu Su a rare sense of comfort.
Feeling slightly victorious, he dipped his brush into the ink and began drafting his letter to Sun Quan.
By the time Lu Su finally lifted his head, a bright silver moon was already hanging high above the night sky.
Bu Zhi stood silently in the corner of the room, apparently having entered at some point without making a sound.
Lu Su stretched his sore back, sealed the thick letter with wax, and handed it directly to him.
"Send this to our lord immediately. Fast."
Inside the envelope, Lu Su had practically emptied his entire vocabulary explaining why Sun Wu absolutely needed to attack Hefei. He had argued, persuaded, hinted, analyzed, and nearly begged Sun Quan to seize the opportunity and strike north.
After handing it over, Lu Su leaned back and let out another tired sigh while staring up at the moon outside the window.
For the first time in his entire career, he genuinely wished he could clone himself.
One half of him wanted to rush downriver and personally argue strategy with Sun Quan face-to-face.
The other half was terrified that the moment he left Jiangxia unattended, Lu Meng would somehow speedrun a diplomatic disaster before sunset.
At this moment, Lu Su felt a very sincere jealousy toward Kongming's comparatively peaceful work environment.
Then he remembered another bizarre line from Kongming's letter.
Kongming had specifically written that there were no immortal palaces on the moon. Also no jade rabbits.
Lu Su frowned up at the moon suspiciously.
"Kongming. Are you forgetting your main job? Or is life in Chengdu just too peaceful over there?"
He narrowed his eyes at the celestial body.
"First you ask me about some junior official I've never heard of. Now you're telling me the moon is empty. What's next? A letter informing me the sun is just a very large lantern?"
He shook his head slowly.
"You used to write about military strategy. Tax reform. Agricultural policy. Now you're sending me astronomy lessons."
A long pause.
"Maybe I should send him a letter back. Ask if he's been getting enough sleep."
---
While Lu Su was busy staring at the moon and reevaluating every decision in his political career, Zhao A was sweating buckets beneath the light of what felt like a thousand torches.
The western bank of the Han River looked completely insane.
Soldiers shouted everywhere. Horses snorted nonstop. Supplies moved back and forth without pause. Sparks flew through the night air while workers hammered wood like they were trying to personally defeat the concept of sleep.
General Huang Zhong currently held the defensive line at Dangyang. The old general's archery had become so infamous that Cao Cao's scouts basically treated the area like a cursed zone. Nobody wanted to be the unlucky cavalryman who rode a little too close and suddenly discovered an arrow sticking out of his forehead.
Starting last year, Huang Zhong had faithfully carried out Guan Yu's orders by constructing a gigantic military dock east of the city along the Han River.
Warships arriving from Jiangling anchored here one after another, while Commander Zhao Lei supervised the construction of the forward operating base. Grain sacks piled up into miniature mountains. Siege equipment filled entire sections of the riverbank.
Meanwhile, back in Jiangling, Guan Yu and Xu Shu were still gathering supplies and manpower, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to kick off the northern campaign.
Zhao A wiped sweat off his face and stared at the sea of blazing firelight around him.
"Can someone explain something to me?" he muttered. "If we light this many torches, won't the Cao army immediately know where we are?"
He was genuinely confused.
Based on Zhao A's extensive battlefield experience, which mostly consisted of tavern fights and one deeply regrettable gambling dispute, the ideal strategy was simple.
Hide quietly in the corner.
Pretend to be uninvolved.
Then smash a stool over somebody's head the moment they stopped paying attention.
That, to Zhao A, was peak military science.
So why exactly were they hosting what looked like a giant glowing festival announcing their location to the entire north?
Zhao A scratched his head.
Clearly, this was one of those high-level general things beyond his salary bracket.
General Guan Yu probably had terrifying reasons for it.
---
Up on a high ridge overlooking the massive staging ground, Zhao Lei pointed toward the dark northern horizon.
"Jichang," he asked, "do you think we could pull off a surprise attack and take Yicheng?"
Beside him stood Ma Liang.
The two men were far too distant to actually see Yicheng from here, but standing on high ground naturally caused military officers to start discussing dramatic conquest plans.
Unfortunately for Zhao Lei, he had chosen the wrong person to ask casually.
Because Yicheng happened to be Ma Liang's hometown.
And once Ma Liang thought about his hometown, he immediately thought about his younger brother.
And once he thought about his younger brother, his brain automatically entered full-time strategy-analysis mode.
Ma Liang calmly shook his head.
"General Guan has reasons for avoiding a stealth assault," he replied. "Though I believe I can guess his grand design."
Zhao Lei raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Enlighten me."
Ma Liang did not even need a map anymore.
After obsessively studying the lightscreen broadcasts, a perfectly scaled terrain map of Jingzhou was practically engraved into his soul. Rivers, roads, elevation, supply routes... the entire region floated inside his head like one giant military sandbox.
Combining that future knowledge with the current reality of the Jingzhou theater, the board was crystal clear to him.
"If we crack Fancheng, then Xiangyang and Yicheng will surrender without us spending a single arrow," Ma Liang explained smoothly.
"Conversely, if we fail to take Fancheng, capturing Xiangyang and Yicheng is completely useless. We would never be able to hold them against a counterattack."
He turned to look at Zhao Lei. "And the critical variable in this entire equation is simple. Xiangyang and Fancheng possess zero naval capacity."
Zhao Lei slowly nodded.
That part was true. He had served under Guan Yu for years and understood the history perfectly.
The reason Cao Cao's river defenses around the central corridor looked so awkward was because Zhou Yu had previously converted the original Jingzhou fleet into a very large floating bonfire at Red Cliffs.
Years ago, Cao Cao had marched south at terrifying speed, absorbed Jingzhou's naval forces, and ordered Yu Jin to expand ship production further north. Those fleets traveled downriver, linked with the main force...
…and then immediately got deleted by fire attacks.
In hindsight, Cao Cao's famous statement about "burning ships to stop disease" sounded a lot less noble when you realized that ninety percent of the ships burning that night belonged to the warlords he had just conquered.
It was easy to set fire to borrowed ships.
After Red Cliffs, Cao Cao rebuilt his navy further north along the Guo River. Strategically, this gave him access to the Yellow River and Huai River systems, allowing better control over the northern plains.
The problem?
If that northern fleet wanted to reinforce Xiangyang now, the route was basically a nightmare campaign mission designed by demons.
First, they had to sail toward Hefei. That alone was a week of hard rowing, assuming no storms, no accidents, and no one fell overboard.
Next came Ruxu, Sun Quan's fortress specifically built to stop northern ships from going anywhere. Breaking through meant fighting a garrison that had spent years preparing for exactly this moment.
After that, the real suffering began: rowing up the Yangtze against the current with exhausted crews and dwindling supplies.
Assuming they survived the river, Jiangxia was waiting. Lu Su's garrison sat permanently stationed there, blocking the final approach.
And then, finally, they would enter the Han River system and pray they arrived before Guan Yu finished whatever he was doing.
By the time they reached Xiangyang, the soldiers would be exhausted, the ships would need repairs, and half the provisions would already be eaten.
At that point, the troops might as well just retire and open noodle shops instead, the working hours were better and nobody shot arrows at you.
"It's impossible," Ma Liang concluded calmly.
"So General Guan Yu and Xu Shu aren't trying to stay hidden at all. They actually want maximum attention."
Zhao Lei frowned slightly.
Ma Liang pointed toward the brightly lit military camps below.
"Think about it. We're basically screaming at Cao Cao right now."
The riverbank below looked less like a military operation and more like a giant festival sponsored by paranoia and logistics.
Torches everywhere.
Ships everywhere.
Soldiers yelling everywhere.
If Zhao Lei squinted hard enough, he was pretty sure he could see their campfire glow reflecting off the northern sky.
"They want Cao Cao focused entirely on Jingzhou," Ma Liang continued. "The louder we are, the more pressure shifts south. Then Yide and Pang Shiyuan strike from Hanzhong at the same time. We crush Cao Cao between multiple fronts and force him to exhaust himself reacting."
He folded his arms.
"We're basically baiting him into a stress-induced strategic collapse."
Zhao Lei stared at him for several seconds.
"...You figured all that out just from looking at the map?"
Ma Liang's expression remained perfectly neutral.
"Brother, I have spent a great deal of time studying."
---
The massive commotion at Dangyang naturally did not escape Yue Jin's attention.
As a general who had technically lost against Guan Yu during their previous encounter, Yue Jin had absolutely no intention of underestimating the man a second time.
He immediately activated full paranoid-defense mode.
His sword never left his side.
He slept in armor.
He kept the garrison on permanent high alert.
Every single night, he personally inspected the city walls like a man convinced Guan Yu might emerge from the darkness at any moment riding a warship directly onto land.
Internally, Yue Jin was stuck agonizing over a brutal tactical question.
Should he simply abandon Xiangyang altogether and withdraw every available soldier across the river into Fancheng?
The scale of Guan Yu's new naval fleet was genuinely horrifying.
No matter how he analyzed the situation, however, only one practical option remained.
Yue Jin slammed the panic button with both hands.
Urgent military couriers burst out from Fancheng at full speed, nearly riding their horses to death as they carried news of Liu Bei's impending northern invasion.
As they traveled, they screamed warnings to every nearby garrison.
"Lock down the defenses!"
"Prepare for war!"
"Guan Yu is moving north!"
Xinye received the alert.
Zhongan received the alert.
Wancheng received the alert.
The riders did not even bother stopping at Xuchang for long political formalities. They pushed straight north, desperate to place the intelligence directly onto Cao Cao's desk in Yecheng.
And when those exhausted couriers thundered through Wancheng, the atmosphere inside the city changed instantly.
On the second floor of a quiet teahouse, two minor officials named Hou Yin and Wei Kai slowly stopped mid-conversation.
The two men exchanged an extremely long, extremely meaningful look.
Their interest in tea disappeared immediately.
In its place appeared a sudden and overwhelming urge to commit treason.
---
Up in Yecheng, Cao Cao was having an exceptionally unpleasant day.
"They are actively marching north to attack us?" he scoffed coldly. "Have they grown tired of living?"
His voice carried its usual arrogance, but inwardly, his mood was far less composed.
His logistical situation was a complete mess.
He lost the campaign at Red Cliffs in the thirteenth year of Jian'an. Then came the brutal fighting in Nan Commandery during the fourteenth year. Only in the fifteenth year did he finally gain enough breathing room to rebuild grain reserves.
Then, last year, he pushed too aggressively in the northwest and accidentally forced the Guanzhong warlords into open revolt.
From spring until late autumn, he was dragged into a miserable cavalry war across Guanzhong. By the end of it, the grain stores were practically bleeding dry.
So when reports arrived earlier this year that Liu Bei had taken Hanzhong, Cao Cao could only swallow his fury and endure it.
There was simply no grain left for another large campaign.
He had no choice. A brilliant chef could not prepare a banquet without rice. Likewise, a brilliant Prime Minister could not wage war without food.
And if he withdrew Xiahou Yuan from Guanzhong, he might as well hand the entire western region over to Liu Bei directly.
That was completely unacceptable.
His original plan had been simple. Wait patiently for the summer harvest, refill the granaries, then launch a crushing southern offensive afterward.
Instead, Liu Bei had flipped the entire table before the harvest even arrived.
Nearby, Xun You lowered his gaze respectfully and spoke in a calm voice.
"Since Liu Bei already controls Yizhou and Hanzhong, this force in Jingzhou must be a secondary detachment. If they are aggressively pushing north, they must be relying on a significant tactical advantage."
Cao Cao nodded slowly.
"Their only advantage is the new navy they spent the last year constructing."
A cold sneer appeared on his face as his thoughts gradually settled.
"Draft an order. Instruct Yu Jin to take command of three armies and garrison Fancheng immediately. Order Yue Jin to hold Xiangyang to the last man. They are to support each other across the river."
His expression hardened.
"And inform them clearly. If either commander retreats without orders, I will personally take his head."
Fifteen thousand men.
That was already the limit his current grain reserves could support without putting severe pressure on the capital.
Xun You nodded quietly.
The deployment itself was sound.
As he stepped over to draft the official decrees, he also understood the hidden message behind the arrangement.
Yue Jin's heavy casualties in the previous skirmish, and his defeat against Guan Yu, had clearly damaged his standing in Cao Cao's eyes. Giving Yu Jin supreme command over the relief force was a highly intentional slap in the face.
Xun You was fully aware that Xiangyang and Fancheng had zero naval support.
However, neither he nor Cao Cao considered it a fatal flaw.
Both cities possessed towering walls and deep moats.
What was a navy going to do? Drive their boats up the stone brickwork? Shout at the garrison until they surrendered?
No. The southern fleet could sail around all they wanted. The walls were not going anywhere.
Having arranged his countermeasures, Cao Cao finally relaxed somewhat.
In his eyes, Liu Bei's sudden aggression was simply the result of recent victories inflating his confidence. As long as the northern defenses held firm, the southern army would eventually exhaust itself and retreat.
At that moment, Cao Cao was staring at the ceiling and mentally calculating which province could still be squeezed for additional grain when a royal guard hurried into the chamber carrying another intelligence dispatch.
Xun You accepted the sealed silk report, opened it, and read the contents.
His expression immediately changed.
"Gongda?" Cao Cao asked impatiently. "What is it now?"
Xun You said nothing.
He simply walked forward and handed over the silk report.
"My Lord should read this personally."
Cao Cao grabbed the report and scanned the contents once.
A stream of furious curses erupted instantly.
"That traitorous bastard! He fled Xuchang like a frightened rat, and now he believes my past mercy means I will spare him on the battlefield?!"
Yet almost immediately afterward, the rage faded into a long, heavy sigh.
"…Yunchang."
The intelligence report itself was extremely brief.
Liu Bei's forces had formally declared war.
The supreme commander of the expedition was Guan Yu. The chief strategist accompanying him was Xu Shu.
Xun You remained silent.
He understood his lord's complicated emotions perfectly.
Cao Cao paced across the room several times before finally stopping.
When he spoke again, his voice was calm and decisive.
"If Yunchang is personally leading the army, then Xiangyang is truly in danger."
He turned sharply.
"I will relocate my headquarters to Xuchang immediately and oversee the war from there."
The decision made perfect strategic sense.
Yecheng was too far north to efficiently command a rapidly developing southern campaign. Furthermore, the northern rebellions earlier that year had already been suppressed. There was little reason for Cao Cao to remain in Yecheng.
Still, Xun You quietly suspected another motive.
No matter how the war developed, Cao Cao was almost certainly going to find an excuse to personally ride south and see Guan Yu again.
In truth, even before this war erupted, Xun You had already been considering recommending a royal inspection tour of Xuchang.
Ever since Xu Shu escaped the capital, many officials in Xuchang had begun entertaining increasingly dangerous political thoughts. The atmosphere there was becoming difficult to control.
The greatest source of concern was Xun You's own uncle, Xun Yu, the man praised throughout the realm as possessing the talent to serve as a king's right hand.
Lately, his uncle's attitude toward Cao Cao's growing imperial ambitions had become alarmingly unclear.
Xun You silently hoped that Cao Cao's personal arrival in Xuchang might finally force his uncle to wake up and see reality.
---
Down in the Jingzhou basin, things were far less complicated for Guan Yu.
The initial wave of logistics had finally been completed. Grain, weapons, armor, arrows, medical supplies, spare bowstrings, spare spearheads, and enough military paperwork to bury a minor official alive had all arrived at the forward camps.
The staging bases around Dangyang were now packed tightly enough to support a long northern campaign.
With preparations complete, Guan Yu and Xu Shu officially left the administrative comfort of Jiangling and relocated their command center directly to the military camp at Dangyang.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
This was no longer planning.
This was war.
Standing atop the docks in spotless armor, Guan Yu slowly raised the Green Dragon Crescent Blade toward the sky.
Torchlight reflected across the cold steel.
All along the riverbank, soldiers straightened instinctively.
Then Guan Yu gave the final command.
The enormous fleet surged forward at once, paddle wheels and oars tearing through the waters of the Han River.
At the same time, Huang Zhong led the vanguard infantry out from the gates of Dangyang.
Warships advanced along the river.
Heavy infantry marched across the land.
The entire army moved together like a single colossal machine, driving directly toward Xiangyang and Fancheng.