Lu Su's thoughts were written all over his face.
Zhang Fei pondered for a moment. Out of consideration for comforting what was likely to be the future Strategist of Wu, he finally spoke.
"Since Sun Quan once lost a hundred thousand men to Zhang Liao's eight thousand cavalry," Zhang Fei said seriously,
"then losing a hundred thousand to eight hundred vanguard troops doesn't really seem that strange, does it?"
Lu Su froze.
He suddenly felt that either he or Zhang Fei had a very different understanding of the phrase "doesn't seem that strange."
Before he could argue, though, the scene on the glowing screen had already shifted.
The Battle of Hefei had begun.
"Eight hundred warriors, follow me and carve out glory!"
"Break the formation, cut down the enemy commander!"
The impassioned roar from the screen sent a chill crawling up Lu Su's spine.
In a daze, he was reminded of himself.
Reminded of the day he remonstrated with Sun Quan in blood and tears, then marched out with a hundred thousand troops toward Hefei.
Back then, Sun Quan had surrounded the city with overwhelming force and unshakable confidence.
Back then, Zhang Liao had charged straight into the central army with terrifying ferocity.
The chaos was the same.
The trampling retreat was the same.
The soldiers fleeing in panic were the same.
The only difference was the ending.
In the scene on the screen, Sun Quan was unable to suppress eight hundred attackers. Morale collapsed. The army withdrew in disgrace, only to suffer another ambush at Xiaoyao Ford.
In reality, Lu Su had personally witnessed Zhang Liao's eight thousand cavalry tear through the formation, shattering the army on the spot. Sun Quan barely escaped to Xiaoyao Ford to regroup the remnants before retreating to Jiangdong.
Two endings, eerily similar.
Which was better? Which was worse?
Lu Su no longer cared.
Deep down, he understood one thing clearly.
At Hefei, Jiangdong lost both courage and strategy. How could defeat have been avoided?
What differed was only the number of soldiers under Zhang Liao's command.
What remained the same was Sun Quan's panic under pressure, which allowed Zhang Liao to earn his immortal fame.
Seeing the gloom on Lu Su's face, Zhang Fei opened his mouth to comfort him again.
Before a single word escaped, Liu Bei swiftly stuffed a greasy flatbread into Zhang Fei's mouth.
Ignoring Zhang Fei's muffled protests, Zhuge Liang turned to another question.
"The later generations claim that if Sun Jian, Sun Ce, Zhou Yu, or even you, Zijing, had been present, there would have been a way to respond. What do you think?"
Lu Su recalled how the screen had calmly stated that "he" would die of illness two years after this battle.
His throat went dry.
Youthful ambition fading.
The fire of Red Cliffs extinguished.
A sick body dying quietly in bed.
Jiangdong halted forever at Hefei.
Was this… his entire life?
After a long silence, he replied.
"After the defeat, I saw Sun Quan in panic. So I laid out Jiangdong's strengths and Cao Cao's weaknesses. I urged him to train troops properly, to forge an army worthy of Red Cliffs."
"I also hoped he would maintain good relations with Guan Yu. Supply him. Support his northern strike."
"When Guan Yu threatened Xuchang from Jingzhou, Sun Quan could bypass Hefei and strike the defenders, or even raise banners claiming an advance on Xuzhou. That would force Cao Cao to split his attention and abandon the region."
Zhuge Liang nodded. The strategy was sound.
If Hefei could not be taken, then do not force it.
Support Guan Yu. Create momentum. Exhaust the enemy through maneuver.
Pang Tong thought it over and asked bluntly,
"And what did Sun Quan say?"
Lu Su only shook his head.
The answer needed no explanation.
He was standing here now.
Even with Gan Ning's sudden uprising as a factor, Sun Quan's stance was already clear.
Pang Tong thought of how Bu Zhi had traveled a thousand miles to beg for renewed peace, shamelessly claiming that past cooperation with Cao Cao had merely been a temporary measure.
This year must have been unbearable for Sun Quan.
Lu Su fell silent again.
On the screen, the narration moved on to Zhang Liao's legacy.
His enshrinement among the sixty four generals of the Tang dynasty's Martial Temple.
Generations of incense and worship.
And me?
Lu Su asked himself.
Something long worn down by years at sea began to boil again in his chest.
Twenty years of study were not meant to glorify Jiangdong.
They were meant to set the world in order.
Strategies forged through bitter effort were meant to repay the world with peace, not fade quietly into obscurity.
As his thoughts widened, Lu Su found himself wondering about the future.
Judging from what he knew of Jiangdong, and from how calmly Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang seemed to anticipate Sun Quan's betrayal, it was easy to guess.
After his death, the one Sun Quan would rely on was likely Lü Meng.
What kind of Jiangdong would that be?
Lu Su wanted to see it with his own eyes.
Just then, after the memorial segment for Zhang Liao ended, an abrupt advertisement labeled "Pinduoduo" popped onto the screen.
Lu Su nearly jumped.
Then he laughed.
"So agricultural techniques and crossbow designs come from this place?"
Zhuge Liang nodded calmly.
"What we see are fragments. Each represents centuries of effort by later generations."
"Since we have obtained them, we must use them. Pacify rebels, restore Han order, stabilize the realm, and allow the people to recover."
Lu Su could not help but sigh.
At Red Cliffs, he had befriended Zhuge Liang not only for his talent, but for his shared ideals.
Back then, Liu Bei wandered without land, while he and Sun Quan rose to fame after Red Cliffs.
Now, years later, he stood alone again.
Meanwhile, Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang worked in perfect harmony, astonishing the world.
A few pages of farming methods.
A palm sized crossbow model.
Yet these could enrich Jing and Yi, increase yields, forge powerful weapons, and train elite troops.
The effort behind them was immeasurable.
Looking at Liu Bei's absolute trust in Zhuge Liang, and the warmth filling the hall, Lu Su sighed sincerely.
"I am far inferior to Kongming."
"Of course you are!" Zhang Fei said cheerfully.
"Our strategist ranks among the Ten Philosophers of the Martial Temple. What's Zhang Liao's eight hundred worth compared to that?"
"Even my elder brother's tomb lost its name later and became the Shrine of the Marquis of Wu."
"Oh right. Marquis Wu is the strategist… mmph!"
Liu Bei calmly silenced the source of chaos with a chicken leg, then turned to Lu Su.
"Chang'an is short of talent. The Imperial Academy has been reestablished but lacks the teacher."
"A teacher must know the classics, but also possess the insight to interpret the sciences passed down through the screen."
"What do you think, Zijing?"
Lu Su's heart stirred. He was about to agree.
Liu Bei smiled and added,
"There is also another matter. The knowledge of later generations differs greatly from ours. We must gather many minds to understand it."
"Your talent is urgently needed. Please do not refuse."
Lu Su turned and saw Zhuge Liang and Pang Tong smiling at him, eyes full of expectation.
He smiled back.
"I would be honored."