The people of Zigui did not sleep well that night.
A rumor spread through the darkened streets faster than the winter wind, carried from mouth to mouth by the dismissed servants from Li Yi's estate.
Imperial Uncle Liu had arrived from Jing Province, Li Yi had been executed for treason.
The news swept across the city like sparks across dry straw. Yet for many of the local commoners, the first reaction was not relief, but confusion.
Who the hell exactly was this Imperial Uncle Liu?
A few of the bolder townsfolk, unable to settle their hearts, made their way through the night to seek out Master Li, the refugee who had fled all the way from Yanzhou.
To their surprise, the moment Master Li heard the name, the fear that usually clung to his face seemed to melt away.
He let out a long breath, as though a stone had finally been lifted from his chest.
"Imperial Uncle Liu is a ruler of benevolence and virtue," he said quietly. "He will not raise his hand against the common people."
Having shared that revelation, Master Li finally felt he could enjoy a decent night's sleep himself.
---
By the following morning, the streets of Zigui were covered in official notices.
Walls.
Market lanes.
Alley entrances, even the pillars outside tea shops. Unlike the usual militar proclamations, these notices were written in plain, unmistakable language.
No obscure legal jargon.
No evasive phrasing.
Everyone could understand them.
Li Yi, a man who betrayed his lord three times... the first betrayal was... the second was...
The details were laid out clearly.
Li Yi was a turncoat who had eaten from one master's table while plotting with another.
A man who had sold loyalty for personal gain time and time again.
As kinsman of the Han and Governor of Jing Province, Imperial Uncle Liu had personally led troops to eliminate this threat.
Furthermore, considering the approaching spring plowing, the Imperial Uncle would soon dispatch oxen, curved plows, and high-quality seeds from Jiangling.
Artisans were being sent to construct water-powered workshops along the Yangtze river for public use, and officials would arrive to teach new methods of farming and composting.
Then came the line that truly made the crowd erupt: This year's grain tax would be fixed at only thirty percent.
A murmur ran through the crowd.
Then cheers.
The people didn't particularly care for the late news about Li Yi or whatever, but they cared deeply about the things Imperial Uncle Liu was promising. Those who had traveled to Jiangling or Gong'an began vividly describing the water-powered mills they had seen there, grindstones and mortars driven by the sheer force of the river.
"They use watermills there!"
"The river turns the grindstones on its own!"
"No need to waste manpower!"
"Zigui is on the Yangtze. We have even more water!" The excitement spread rapidly.
Thirty percent tax, with Imperial Uncle Liu's official seal upon it.
That one number swept away most of the unease caused by Li Yi's death.
By noon, people were already calculating how much surplus grain they might keep after the autumn harvest.
---
Liu Bei and his men rested in Zigui for only a single night.
By daybreak, they were on the march again, striking directly toward Wu County.
The two hundred defenders there initially bolted the gates, but when the unit commander saw Li Yi's severed head tossed before the walls and the two thousand disciplined troops at Liu Bei's back, he made the wise decision to surrender.
Li Yi's death had shattered his influence throughout Ba Commandery.
Just as Zhao Wei's rebellion had collapsed the moment its leader died, the same happened here.
Adhering to the principle of "speed is the soul of war," Liu Bei left a small garrison in Wu County and hurried onward.
From Wu County, the march stretched westward.
Three days to Yufu.
Fifteen to Quren.
Eight to Linjiang.
Then twelve more to Jiangzhou.
And Jiangzhou marked the final outpost of Li Yi's former territory, and for Liu Bei, it was a significant distance from his base in Jingzhou.
Over the past month, the entire party had grown lean from the rigors of the road, but as Liu Bei stood atop the walls of Jiangzhou, he looked out with a spirit that remained unshaken.
Yizhou. Now, I am Liu Bei, had finally arrived.
Chengdu was now within his sights.
---
Pang Tong stood beside him, equally exhilarated.
Pang Shiyuan was equally exhilarated. Though the original plan had been conceived by Kongming, it was Shiyuan who had refined it, finalized it, and seen it through to execution.
A profound sense of satisfaction filled his chest, washing away the lingering frustration of always being overshadowed by Kongming back in Jingzhou. He felt an urge to let out a long, triumphant whistle.
His eyes drifted northwest.
Though the mountain ranges blocked the horizon, he knew Chengdu lay beyond them.
"If My Lord had ten thousand battle-ready troops," Shiyuan said softly, "Chengdu could be taken within two months."
There was regret in his tone.
Since departing Linju, only three soldiers had been executed for violating military discipline.
Twelve more had been lost to ravines and poisonous insects. For such a campaign, it was nearly miraculous.
Meanwhile, Zhao Zilong was steadily securing the rear, ensuring the captured cities remained stable while fresh supplies advanced from the east.
The three thousand under Liu Bei's direct command were exhausted.
But they were veterans now, tempered by the march.
Shiyuan could not help imagining it.
Ten thousand men. A direct thrust toward Chengdu.
Perhaps the capital might fall before it even understood what had happened.
Liu Bei smiled and shook his head.
"We have already secured six cities and reached Jiangzhou."
His tone was calm, practical.
"We have spent nearly seventy percent of this year's reserves, yet the soldiers remain intact and the civilians have suffered no harm."
For this campaign, we have only spent gold and grain; this is a grand victory." He turned toward Pang Tong.
"But if we press on Chengdu now, that great victory may become a shared disaster."
Shiyuan acknowledged the point, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Liu Bei. As they felt the river breeze, which felt different here than in the east, Shiyuan asked, "I wonder how things are progressing in Jingzhou?"
"Since Li Yi's head is no longer needed for opening gates," Liu Bei said, remembering the head they had preserved in lime for the past month.
"I shall write a letter and send it, along with the head, to Liu Zhang. Since I have arrived in his territory, I must explain the circumstances to the master of the house."
Liu Bei's gaze drifted back to the mountains. "The Light Screen praised Chengdu as a city created by the 'nine heavens.' I wonder what kind of prosperity awaits us there?"
---
Back in Gong'an, Kongming was fully immersed in administration. As Liu Bei and Zilong advanced west, the treasury flowed from his hands like water.
Grain was moved by Wooden Oxen toward the newly secured cities, while pack horses carried supplies deeper into Yizhou.
The water-powered workshops were operating at maximum capacity, crushing coal from Jingzhou and abroad into the fine powder required for the army's portable heaters.
Mi Zhu was equally busy, converting the profits from his merchant networks into grain and shipping it relentlessly from the East. The volume was so great that it even prompted a concerned letter from Lu Su in Sun Wu, inquiring about the sudden activity.
Kongming's response was a masterpiece of partial truth: technically, Zigui belonged to Jingzhou, and the Governor of Jingzhou, was simply taking back what was his.
---
Within Gong'an, the specialized workshops for Divine Physician Zhang Zhongjing had also been expanded. Beyond gold-wound powders, they were now producing medicines for insect repellent, miasma prevention, and swelling.
In one rare quiet moment, Kongming sat with Zhang Zhongjing beneath lamplight.
They spoke of the plague 'smallpox' mentioned by the Light Screen.
"Kongming is well-versed in history. You must remember the eighteenth year of Jianwu."Zhang Zhongjing asked.
Kongming answered immediately. "General Ma Yuan (Ma Fubo)?"
Zhang Zhongjing nodded and unfurled an old bamboo scroll.
When the Jiaozhou rebellion occurred, Emperor Guangwu ordered General Ma Yuan to suppress it. The war lasted two years. The Book of Han records the victory.
He tapped the bamboo slip.
"The rebels held the mountain passes, and the General could not break them quickly. Then, a plague broke out from the rebel rear. They fell into chaos and were defeated. When the army returned, many soldiers carried the disease back with them.
It resembled cold damage, but with pustules on the skin. At the time, they called it the 'Barbarian Pox. Since then, there have been sporadic records across various commanderies. People call it the 'God of Pox' and hire shamans to drive it away."
Kongming sat in silence. He felt as though a giant, invisible beast had opened its maw south of Jiaozhou, waiting to swallow the world.
"The plague in the Great Qin came from Parthia... and Parthia is close to the Kushan Empire... and what the Light Screen calls the Indochina Peninsula is the site of the ancient Shendu Road..."
Shiyuan's earlier fear might be true.
This plague had likely existed for a long time already. "Is there a cure?" Kongming asked.
Zhang Zhongjing shook his head, rolling up the ancient scroll. "I have not heard of this plague causing a major catastrophe since the time of General Ma Yuan. Why do you ask, Kongming? Is there an outbreak in Jingzhou?"
Kongming finally spoke plainly. "I heard that the decline of a western great nation may have been tied to this very disease."
Zhang Zhongjing listened intently as Kongming shared what he knew. When Kongming finally left the residence, he took a deep breath of the night air.
The fragmented knowledge from the Light Screen had made the sky feel wider, making him feel like a young student again, struggling to grasp the vastness of the world.
But, he thought, I am not the Prime Minister from the Northern Expeditions. I have plenty of people by my side.
---
In Zigui, the commoners watched as army after army passed through their town, heading west along the river. Yet, remarkably, the soldiers remained disciplined and the town remained peaceful.
The people finally received what had been promised.
A small office was established beside the county government.
Outside stood a curved plow. Beside it, a crude wooden model of an ox.
Those with means could purchase the tools outright. Those without could lease them from the government.
The condition was simple, an additional ten percent tax at harvest.
The math was easy. Imperial Uncle Liu's base tax was thirty percent. With the lease, it became forty percent. It was still a bargain compared to the sixty percent Li Yi had been squeezing out of them. Many didn't hesitate to sign the lease.
Master Li, having some savings left, chose to purchase his own equipment.
For the oxen, he rented from a local wealthy family. With spring plowing close at hand, he and his son took the new plow into the fields.
Even without a side-by-side comparison, Master Li could feel the difference. The labor was significantly lighter. During a break, his neighbor Zhao A came over to share some tea.
"Master Li," Zhao A asked softly, glancing westward, "if every governor were like the Imperial Uncle… you would never have had to flee, would you?"
Master Li was silent for a long time.
Finally, he said quietly, "Imperial Uncle Liu is no different from me. He is also a refugee from the North."
Zhao A stared in disbelief.
"But… he defeated Li Yi."
Master Li only sighed. "A 'general' like Li Yi wouldn't have survived three days in the North; he only thrived here because he could bully the locals for years."
After a pause, Zhao A asked, "Do you think the northern armies will come fight him?"
"Most likely. Why ?"
Zhao A looked saddened. "The Imperial Uncle seems like a good man. I wish he could stay as our Governor forever."
Master Li thought of the Cao soldiers that had terrified him into fleeing south and let out a long sigh. "Let's just get the plowing done."