In the end, Lu Su was still dragged away by Pang Tong.
No matter how much one might have guessed beforehand, seeing it with one's own eyes was an entirely different matter.
A navy that cut through the waves with ferocious might, sweeping the northern seas.
Cao's armies converging from every direction to contest its edge.
Jiangdong striking from behind, dressed in white, smiling as it slid the knife in.
And Sun the Marquis, clever in action, notorious in name, remembered by later generations with sighs and faint excuses about a troubled mind.
When Lu Su thought of all the effort he had poured into Jiangdong, the silence in him only deepened.
In the end, Zhang Fei stepped forward and gave him a light pat on the shoulder in consolation. Under Pang Tong's relentless urging, Lu Su finally went along, his steps unsteady as he left.
Watching Lu Zijing's staggering back disappear, Kongming shook his head, closed the booklet in his hands, and stretched.
The lord had withdrawn early out of consideration for Lu Zijing's feelings, which made the dispersal of the gathering beneath the light screen far more casual than usual.
Physician Zhang left in a hurry, clearly worried about the bottles and jars back at the medical bureau. As far as Kongming knew, Zhang Zhongjing had been busy to the point of exhaustion lately.
Among the seven examination subjects held three months earlier, medicine ranked last, and naturally drew the fewest candidates. Even so, a handful of promising talents had emerged, enough to leave Zhang Zhongjing overjoyed.
On top of that, the distillation methods he had heard of from later ages, refined further in the Tang, had completely captivated him. He all but lived in the workshops now.
Nor was he the only one swamped with work. Jian Yong was busy comparing maps obtained from later generations, revising geographical records of the lands west of the Western Regions, laying groundwork for Han's future return and renewed influence in Central Asia.
Mi Zhu was coordinating trade among Jing, Yi, and Jiangdong, while constantly dispatching merchants west through Yong and Liang. His aim was to clear the trade routes, linking the southwestern tribal roads with the Western Regions, and, once Cao's forces were destroyed, to connect the southwestern routes, the Western Regions, the Liaodong routes, and the southern sea lanes into one vast network. With Chang'an and Luoyang at its heart, the road later generations would call the Silk Road would finally live up to its name.
Fa Zheng had likely gone to the Imperial Academy. To reorder the realm required new laws, and for nearly half a year he had been immersed in the task, citing the classics while studying notes left by the light screen, trying to glean systems from the Tang, Song, Ming, and later ages. It seemed he had even roped Zhong Yuanchang into helping.
And then there was…
"Yide, what brings you here?"
Having finished stretching, Kongming looked at Zhang Fei, who was kneeling neatly before him, and found it odd.
Zhang Fei scratched the back of his head and spoke without ceremony.
"Strategist, I cannot stop thinking about that fire cannon."
Kongming understood at once.
The people of the Tang had just gone to great lengths describing its power. Hearing that Tuyuhun had been wiped out because of it, who could not be curious?
"Come with me," Kongming said.
He rose, straightened the table and mat, and led the way out through the side hall.
When the light screen had been active, the guards outside had quietly dispersed. The two of them passed through the main gate as easily as if strolling through their own courtyard.
"It's snowing," Zhang Fei said, tilting his head back and catching a flake in his palm.
The weather made him think of Zhuo Commandery, so far away it felt like another life.
The snows of the Yan Mountains. Would he see them again next year?
His thoughts wandered for a moment. When he turned back, he saw Kongming bundled in thick layers, struggling awkwardly to mount a horse.
Zhang Fei panicked.
"Strategist, why ride at all? Let Old Zhang drive the carriage for you!"
The servants at the General's residence were familiar with both of them. Before Zhang Fei could say a word, the stable hand had already offered to drive.
"Go rest!" Zhang Fei laughed, waving him off.
"I have not driven for the strategist in ages. Why fight me for it? On a day like this, warming wine by the hearth is far better than braving wind and snow."
Forced into the carriage by Zhang Fei, Kongming smiled, brushed the snow from his clothes, and shook his head inwardly. Yide was likely thinking carefully, believing matters of the cannon should remain discreet.
Once Kongming was settled, Zhang Fei took the reins, listening to directions, and drove through the snow with easy cheer.
"Yide, are you not cold?" Kongming asked after they had passed two streets.
Zhang Fei was humming some tune, clearly enjoying himself.
"Compared to Zhuo Commandery, Guanzhong is warm enough."
Kongming nodded. His thoughts drifted to later theories of latitude and longitude, of warmth increasing toward the south and cold intensifying in the north. He wondered how such changes related to those invisible lines.
Then his mind snagged on another puzzle. Length could be measured with rulers, but how did one measure heat and cold? What kind of standard could be made?
Several ideas surfaced, only to be dismissed one by one. Just then, Zhang Fei's loud call for directions snapped him out of it.
Oblivious to the strategist's distraction, Zhang Fei kept chatting.
"Zhuo Commandery is cold, sure, but livable. Go farther north to Changli or Xuantu in Liaodong, that is real cold."
"And north of Liaodong, where the Wuhuan live, it is cold half the year."
"When I finally behead that Cao bandit, I will invite you north for a look. Zhuo Commandery might be too cold, but you could visit Zilong's home. Changshan is ringed by mountains, not too harsh. Just right for a southerner like you."
"If we ever return north, I will walk past Qian Zijin again and again, just to see who still dares say Old Zhang cannot make his mark. Strategist, remember to make my military seal a bit bigger."
Kongming listened quietly to Yide's rambling. He heard the complaints about the bitter north, and the longing woven through every mention of Zhuo Commandery.
At the name Qian Zijin, though, his curiosity was piqued. He asked casually,
"Qian Zijin. That would be Qian Zhao, the one devoted to pacifying the people?"
"Who else could it be?" Zhang Fei replied.
Kongming nodded.
The lord had mentioned Qian Zhao only once, after hearing of the defeat at Yiling, and only after drinking a bit too much. He had sighed, "Fortunately, Zijin did not follow me. Otherwise I would have dragged the people of the north down with me."
The lord had not meant to hide anything. Later, when Kongming asked, a few brief words were enough to give him an impression of that former sworn friend.
A good man, whose ambition lay on the frontier, killing barbarians and bringing peace to the people.
Zhang Fei sighed a few times, then quickly moved on, talking about the fine fruits of the north come high summer. By the time he finished, Kongming's mouth was watering and his stomach faintly growling.
Thankfully, Zhang Fei soon called out,
"Strategist, we are here!"
The carriage stopped. The snow was falling harder now.
They were in Hu County, south of Chang'an. Zhang Fei peered across the Feng River, but the storm hid everything from view. Kongming knew what he was looking at and explained,
"That way lies Ziwu Valley."
Without the light screen, thirteen years later Shu Han, unwilling to settle for mere survival, would have considered Wei Yan's bold plan through Ziwu Valley in a bid for a miraculous victory. The Chancellor had rejected it.
Later generations debated that plan again and again, each time concluding it would not succeed, yet never letting it go. It was hard not to hear the regret beneath those discussions.
At least now…
"I say," Zhang Fei muttered after craning his neck in vain, "it is better this valley never sees an army march through it."
Just then, a voice called out,
"General Yide, come in and warm yourself. Why sigh out here in the cold?"
Hu County had few residents now. On the way in, Zhang Fei had seen soldiers still standing guard despite the storm, so the хозя here knew visitors were coming.
Zhang Fei turned and grinned, clasping his hands properly.
"General Fu."
Then he leaned past Fu Rong toward the youth behind him.
"Little Jiang Wei, I thought you were hiding in the Imperial Academy, too grand to see me. Who knew you were slacking off here?"
Fu Rong nodded and exchanged greetings with both Zhang Fei and Kongming.
Standing before Zhang Fei, Jiang Wei looked almost absurdly small. He lifted his chin stubbornly.
"What do you mean slacking off? Everything I do here is for reviving Han."
Despite having his suspicions, Zhang Fei could not resist teasing the younger man.
"You are not even as tall as a spear yet. What help can you be? Study well. Governing the state and pacifying the people, that is real contribution."
As Jiang Wei hopped and argued back, Kongming quickly stepped in to calm his disciple.
Fu Rong said nothing, merely gesturing them inside. Zhang Fei asked a few questions about the situation here as they walked.
Hu County had once done decently thanks to its proximity to Chang'an. Then armies and bandits came again and again. People died or fled. When Xiahou Yuan took Chang'an, he conscripted laborers for farming, and Hu County was left utterly desolate.
After Liu Bei retook the Three Qins, a few early refugees returned, but their numbers were pitiful.
Seeing the terrain, backed by hills and water and close enough to Chang'an, Kongming had compensated the remaining people, stationed troops, built houses, and brought craftsmen here to study devices.
Zhang Fei could hardly wait.
"Where is the cannon? Little Jiang Wei, drag it out and let me hear it roar!"
Kongming was more measured.
"Where is Deheng? I have a few new diagrams that may solve some of the problems with casting."
Zhang Fei's words earned no response from Jiang Wei, but at the mention of new diagrams, the youth snatched them eagerly.
Sheltering under the eaves to keep the ink from the snow, Jiang Wei opened them and blinked in surprise.
"A wooden cannon?"
He turned and ran off at once, tossing back a line over his shoulder.
"Please go north of the county, Master, General Fu. I will fetch Junior Ma and be there shortly."
Watching him go, Zhang Fei did not mind being ignored in the least. He swayed his head and said,
"Little Boyue shows signs of standing on his own."
Fu Rong nodded silently. Kongming shook his head.
"Not yet."
Seeing his expression, Zhang Fei finally caught on.
"Junior?"
Fu Rong found Kongming another warm coat. The three crossed Hu County and soon spotted Jiang Wei waving beside an open ground. Next to him stood a young man as cold-faced as ice, towering over Jiang Wei by more than two heads.
Zhang Fei stared hard at this "junior," while Kongming calmly issued orders.
A squad of guards moved as instructed, pushing over a cart covered in canvas. The wheels left deep tracks in the snow.
At last, Zhang Fei saw the supreme weapon so lavishly praised by the Tang scholars. It looked, frankly, unimpressive.
Jiang Wei stepped back, leaving Ma Jun and several soldiers to work around the cannon.
Seeing the obvious doubt on Zhang Fei's face, Jiang Wei planted his hands on his hips and declared,
"This thing is worth more than a hundred elite soldiers. Third General, just watch."
Ma Jun and the others fixed the cannon in place, loaded powder and shot, and finally, with help, Ma Jun lit the fuse protruding from the rear.
Amid the falling snow, the soft hiss of the burning fuse was clear. Zhang Fei watched the thin line of fire creep closer, then vanish into the cannon's tail.
Thump.
There was no earth-shaking roar. The sound was dull and small. Sharp-eyed Zhang Fei even saw the shot ooze out of the muzzle, plopping into the snow and kicking up a puff.
He looked at Ma Jun and the others as they hurried to reset things, then fixed a long stare on Jiang Wei. The youth flushed crimson and blurted out,
"It must be the heavy snow. The powder got damp."
Zhang Fei nodded, accepting this at face value.
Soon they were ready again. Once more the thin fire crept into the cannon. This time, Zhang Fei saw a flash bloom at the muzzle.
The shot flew fifty or sixty paces before dropping, carving a dark line through the snow. Thick smoke billowed from the muzzle, sending Ma Jun and the soldiers scrambling away, coughing.
"It must be…" Jiang Wei faltered.
Zhang Fei cut him off with a perfunctory nod.
"I know."
That only made Jiang Wei angrier. I have not said anything yet. What do you know?
He immediately shouted at the cannon, hopping in place.
"Junior Ma, use the powder I mixed. The one wrapped in paper at the bottom."
Ma Jun was cautious, calling out to ask Kongming for confirmation. Receiving it, they prepared for a third attempt.
Jiang Wei stared without blinking, his face tight with tension. Zhang Fei folded his arms, looking unconcerned, already guessing how far the shot might fly this time.
What came first was a burst of light at the muzzle, bright as the blazing sun, gone in an instant. Then a sound like a great bell struck full and true slammed into Zhang Fei, leaving his mind a blank, his sense of self nearly erased.
Yet his eyes faithfully carried everything into his memory.
The earth and snow near the muzzle were hurled skyward by a tremendous force. A massive boulder in the distance shattered. In the woods beyond, several tall trees creaked and slowly toppled.
Even a quarter hour later, sitting indoors by the fire, Zhang Fei could not shake the image from his head.
Nearby, Ma Jun wore an unmistakable look of regret.
"The cannon cracked again."
"Cast by the lost-wax method, only two out of ten succeed. Both cannons have cracked and cannot be repaired."
This did not surprise Kongming. He sighed softly, once again envying the wealth of the Tang, who could cast cannon by every method, test-fire them, send the survivors to the battlefield, and refine designs based on what endured. Lavish resources made such brute iteration possible.
They had no such luxury now. Chang'an lacked the money, materials, and manpower.
"In that case, see whether the wooden cannon will work," Kongming said.
Ma Jun readily agreed.
With that settled, Kongming turned to Jiang Wei.
"What was that final powder?"
Jiang Wei dared not hide it.
"A batch of powder was left out while drying and got soaked with snow. It could not be used."
"I was afraid Master would punish me, so I tried to drive out the moisture. The result burned even fiercer…"
Kongming seized on the flaw at once.
"There has been no clear weather in Chang'an for half a month. How did you remove the moisture?"
Unable to hide it any longer, Jiang Wei muttered,
"With charcoal fire…"
Kongming sucked in a sharp breath and rapped Jiang Wei on the head with his fan.
"Do you truly not know what death is?"