"A major historical turning point?"
Wen Mang stared at his monitor and slowly shook his head.
The video platform must have been getting desperate for ad revenue these days. Even if this was nothing more than a cheap browser-based HTML5 game, they could at least have polished the graphics a little. Surely a single extra pixel of effort wouldn't have killed them.
After all, look at the other notifications sitting in the same list. They started with titles like Master, Doctor, or Traveler. Any of those carried far more allure than this piece of garbage.
Wen Mang scoffed.
He casually tapped through the notifications to clear the red dots, skimming the so-called generous reward events that were obviously nothing more than shameless cash grabs disguised as freebies. The only genuinely annoying part was that this browser game actually forced him to click into each notification just to clear the alert.
It felt intrusive, like a telemarketer breaking down his front door.
Fine. He clicked.
Two animations immediately appeared on the loading screen.
The first showed a chibi character standing on a map. The little figure suddenly plunged a longsword straight into the word "Chang'an," then kept stabbing it with such ridiculous force that the sword continued vibrating long after the initial impact. The animation looped endlessly.
Wen Mang closed it.
A second chibi emperor immediately popped up, and somehow this one was even more absurd. The little emperor reached behind himself, pulled out what appeared to be an actual cannon, and began blasting everything in sight. Smoke particles erupted across the screen while gold coins rained down from nowhere.
Wen Mang instinctively supplied his own voiceover.
Bow to your king. Take a knee, peasant. Get out of the way!
He chuckled. Somewhere in another universe, a wraith king was probably filing a copyright complaint.
Not that it mattered. The game certainly wasn't paying royalties.
He quickly worked his way through the rest of the game, efficiently burning through whatever deviation values and historical turning points the interface threw at him. He had no interest in the lore. He simply wanted the red dots gone.
Once the final popups disappeared, two new notifications appeared.
[Playback feature unlocked.]
[User privileges upgraded.]
After confirming that not a single red dot remained to clutter his inbox, Wen Mang peacefully exited the app.
But the ridiculous chibi character reminded him of something else. A few days earlier, Dongfang Ye had called specifically to thank him for the Map of Liu Bei Pacifying the Three Qins. The artist had even sent him a bonus payment. Apparently, the artwork had unexpectedly gone viral.
A ridiculous thought suddenly popped into Wen Mang's head, making him chuckle.
Was that mysterious wealthy benefactor actually a paid shill for this garbage game? Had the developers hired artists to create high-quality fan art just to drive traffic toward their low-effort mobile port?
He shook his head and stretched his neck until it cracked before turning his attention back to the video-editing software in front of him. Then he glanced at the calendar on his desk and noticed that the Lunar New Year was fast approaching.
Another idea sparked in his head. Maybe he should make a Spring Festival special episode? Something grand. Something that matched the scale of the history they were uncovering.
---
Back in the Three Kingdoms era, Lu Su finally parted ways with Bu Zhi.
Bu Zhi was currently serving as Sun Quan's envoy, desperately trying to convince Liu Bei to agree to a truce. Gan Gui and his Jinfan Pirate Navy were still parading up and down the river, disrupting trade routes and keeping everyone in Jiangdong on edge
The Yangtze River did not just separate north from south. It was the lifeline of Jiangdong itself. The land south of the river was incredibly hilly, and building roads through that terrain required enormous amounts of manpower, money, and materials. No road could ever compete with the waterways. Ships moved goods far faster than ox-carts ever could.
Right now, Gan Gui only had one fleet. He could not completely blockade the entire stretch of river between Jiangxia and Jianye. Even so, forcing the powerful merchant families of Jiangdong to sneak their ships around like thieves was already causing them a massive headache.
Every delayed shipment meant lost profit.
Every intercepted vessel meant political embarrassment.
Bu Zhi carried a mountain of pressure on this journey. Seeing Lu Su looking so relaxed and cheerful only made it worse. It was infuriating. How could his former commander remain so calm while Jiangdong's economy seemed to be teetering on the brink of collapse?
He hurried through his farewells, picked up the pace, and headed straight for Chang'an. He had no time to waste admiring the scenery.
Lu Su, meanwhile, was taking things much more slowly.
Liu Huangshu had merely invited him to visit Chang'an. He had given no strict deadline, issued no urgent summons, and sent no angry letters demanding his immediate attendance. It was simply an invitation.
So Lu Su decided to take his time. He brought his elderly mother with him and stopped frequently to enjoy the scenery along the way. The delay also gave the northern weather more time to warm. Lu Su had been worried that his mother would struggle to adapt to the harsher climate. She was frail, and the cold winds of the northwest could be hard on her. It would be better to arrive after the snow had melted and the first buds had begun to appear.
The mountains he passed through around Fangling and Shangyong reminded him of his years in Jiangdong. Their green peaks and mist-covered valleys resembled the landscapes of his homeland in Jingnan, with rivers winding through dense forests and layers of mountains disappearing into the haze.
As he traveled, Lu Su found himself wondering how things were going back home. Were the fields still green? Had the war reached the villages yet?
When he reached Hanzhong, he deliberately stayed for a while. He chatted with the locals, toured the surrounding mountains, and even made a visit to Yangping Pass.
Only a few years earlier, Zhang Lu had used that treacherous mountain pass to defend Hanzhong and render Liu Zhang's forces almost powerless. The road was narrow, the cliffs were steep, and the terrain was so defensible that a hundred men could hold back an army of ten thousand if the position was properly prepared.
Now Zhang Fei had conquered the pass, and the main army had moved on to Tong Pass, where the natural fortress could be used to hold back the enemy. The once-vital chokepoint had become almost irrelevant. Only a small squad of soldiers remained to inspect and register travelers passing through.
Weeds and grass had already begun growing along the tops of the ramparts. Roots pushed through the mortar, while vines crept over the watchtowers and slowly strangled the old defenses. The mighty fortress had not been destroyed by an enemy army. It had simply been rendered obsolete by the shifting tides of war.
Lu Su eventually settled at a roadside stall near the intersection and ordered two pots of tea. He found a comfortable seat, stretched his legs, and closed his eyes while listening to a silver-tongued scholar nearby dramatically recount the story of Huo Qubing's first victory in the northern deserts and the battle in which the young general captured members of the enemy royalty and earned a marquis title.
The crowd laughed and gasped at all the appropriate moments.
The early summer sun was pleasantly warm. It was slightly cooler than Jiangdong, but Lu Su found the difference refreshing rather than uncomfortable. The air carried the dry scent of dust and pine needles, while somewhere nearby, wooden waterwheels turned steadily along the Han River, their rhythmic clacking blending into the background noise of the road.
For a while, Lu Su simply listened.
Then he stopped listening.
He was not a diplomat or a strategist at that moment. He was simply a traveler enjoying an afternoon's rest beneath the shade.
Eventually, Lu Su left Hanzhong and emerged from the Baoxie plank road. The transition was almost startling. One moment he had been clinging to roads carved into steep mountainsides; the next, the world suddenly opened before him.
The sight of eight hundred miles of flat Qinchuan plains made his eyes brighten.
For the first time, Lu Su truly understood the psychology of the north.
There were no mountains blocking the horizon. A man could simply mount his horse and let it run. The land stretched endlessly ahead, almost daring him to chase the horizon. No wonder northern heroes throughout history had been so obsessed with seeking glory on horseback. If Lu Su had been born in Hebei instead of Jingnan, he suspected he might have spent his youth dreaming of becoming a cavalryman and hunting bandits across these enormous plains.
The land itself seemed to demand movement.
It demanded conquest.
The Wei River surged alongside the main road, its waters brown and heavy with silt, while vast grids of farmland stretched across the opposite bank in orderly patterns. Irrigation channels cut through the earth like veins, carrying water toward the fields, and in the far distance, isolated mountain peaks suddenly rose from the flat landscape, dividing the earth from the sky.
Lu Su found himself fascinated by it all. He felt a sudden urge to let his horse run at full speed, to ride eastward, cross Tong Pass, and see the Central Plains for himself. Somewhere beyond that pass lay the legendary battlefields where warlords were currently fighting for supremacy.
Once he entered Guanzhong, his pace gradually quickened. Two more days of travel brought Chang'an into view, rising from the surrounding landscape like a vast stone mountain. Its walls were imposing, its gates crowded, and the endless movement of people and carts made it immediately clear that he had reached the heart of the empire.
Yet something else caught Lu Su's attention before he even reached the city proper.
A rest pavilion stood at a major intersection where several smaller roads merged into the main highway. Travelers naturally stopped there to rest, and the pavilion itself appeared quite new, with fresh timber and brightly painted beams.
The name of the structure, however, left Lu Su completely speechless.
The Pavilion Where One Waits for Lu Zijing.
It was so blunt that it almost felt as though someone had built the entire structure specifically for him.
A wooden plaque hanging from one of the pillars made the purpose even clearer.
Built to await the great talent of Linhuai, Lu Zijing.
Lu Su immediately wanted to cover his face and keep walking.
The sheer audacity of publicly announcing that someone was waiting for him was deeply embarrassing.
Unfortunately, his mother had other ideas.
She grabbed his sleeve with surprising strength, her eyes sparkling with unmistakable mischief, and stepped forward to chat with the people resting in the pavilion.
"Since this pavilion has such a specific name," she asked cheerfully, "where is the person doing the waiting?"
The peasants were more than happy to answer. Several of them began speaking at once, and Lu Su had to listen carefully before he could piece the story together.
Liu Huangshu had built the pavilion two months earlier. He had apparently come here every day to wait for Lu Su, right up until today. As for why he was not there at the moment, the answer was simple: it was harvest season. Liu Huangshu had probably gone to help the local widows and orphans with their farm work. Apparently, he was famous for rolling up his sleeves and digging irrigation ditches alongside the people under his rule.
One peasant muttered loudly, "I have no idea who this Lu Zijing fellow even is. How great can he be if Liu Huangshu has waited this long for him? I've seen generals come and go, but I've never seen anyone get a pavilion built just because someone was waiting for him."
A burly man sitting nearby shrugged.
"Who cares? We have a nice place to rest, don't we? Shade is shade."
Before Lu Su could decide whether to laugh or disappear, a young child suddenly jumped to his feet and pointed toward the southern road.
"Liu Huangshu is back!"
Liu Bei had always possessed excellent eyesight, and he immediately spotted the unfamiliar man standing among the crowd. The guards around him gave away his status, while the elderly woman beside him confirmed what Liu Bei had already begun to suspect.
More importantly, he knew that face.
He had met Lu Su before. He remembered their alliance, their debates, and the mutual respect that had developed between them despite serving different lords.
A broad laugh erupted from Liu Bei as he approached, his voice carrying easily over the chatter of the pavilion.
"Jingzhou, Hanzhong, and Guanzhong!" he called out. "Are these three lands worthy of Zijing's eyes?"
Lu Su sighed inwardly.
The question was about far more than scenery. Liu Bei was asking whether he had begun to see the empire differently, not as a collection of fragmented states separated by mountains and rivers, but as a single world whose pieces were gradually being brought together.
Lu Su cupped his hands and called back with a smile.
"I was terribly slow on my journey. I made Lord Xuande wait far too long. I am deeply ashamed."
Their exchange carried clearly through the pavilion, and every peasant immediately turned toward Lu Su. Whispers spread almost at once.
"That's Lu Su? How talented is he?"
"He doesn't look as clever as Mister Zhuge."
The speaker lowered his voice.
"Well, he certainly isn't as handsome as Mister Zhuge."
"Keep your voice down! He's Liu Huangshu's guest!"
The locals immediately scrambled to compensate for the insult, offering whatever praise they could think of. Unfortunately, their vocabulary for describing great talent was limited, so the compliments quickly became rather strange.
"Mister Lu seems like a very nice young man!"
"His robes are very clean!"
Lu Su listened to the increasingly enthusiastic praise and decided that he had suffered enough.
He needed to recover some dignity.
And, preferably, some privacy.
"Since I have arrived, I promise I will not leave without saying goodbye," he said, turning back toward Liu Bei. "Lord Xuande, please return to Chang'an. I will formally visit your residence tomorrow. How does that sound?"
"Why wait until tomorrow?"
Liu Bei strode into the pavilion with the energy of a tiger, walked straight toward Lu Su, and seized both of his hands in a firm grip. His palms were rough from years of work, but there was considerable strength behind them.
"Zijing, you have traveled a very long road. I have already prepared a private courtyard for you to rest in. Your venerable mother needs comfort, not another delay."
He shifted his grip to one hand and began practically dragging Lu Su forward, already taking charge of the arrangements as though the matter had been settled long ago.
The familiarity of the gesture caught Lu Su off guard. There was no ceremony in it, no carefully maintained diplomatic distance. Liu Bei was treating him like an old friend who had finally come home.
"I will personally take you there," Liu Bei continued. "Once your venerable mother is settled, you can come with me to meet an old friend."
He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement.
"And besides, the Light Screen will appear tomorrow. We can watch it together!"