The moment Xu Shu recognized Lady Wu and sensed the unmistakable romantic tension in the air, the instincts he had honed as a wandering swordsman immediately took over.
Without hesitating, he leapt from his horse, threw Liu Bei a shamelessly encouraging wink, then caught Zhuge Liang by the sleeve and dragged him toward the gates of Chengdu before the Chancellor could ruin the moment with a misplaced remark.
Left alone beside the riverbank, Lady Wu smiled brightly, genuine delight softening her expression. Ignoring the dirt on his clothes, she stepped closer and carefully brushed the dried mud from Liu Bei's armor and robes.
"That gentleman seems unfamiliar," she said softly, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes. "Is he one of your trusted men from Jingzhou, my lord?"
Ordinarily, such close attention from a beautiful noblewoman would have left Liu Bei red-faced and tongue-tied. Yet the mention of Xu Shu swept away his awkwardness at once, replacing it with warm nostalgia.
He began speaking of the difficult years in Xinye before the battle of Red Cliffs. He recalled cramped taverns, long strategy discussions beneath dim candlelight, and the extraordinary fortune that had brought both Xu Shu and Zhuge Liang to his side when he possessed little more than a wandering army and an uncertain future.
"To think," Liu Bei said with a quiet sigh, his gaze drifting into the distance, "the three of us spent less than a year together before chaos scattered us in different directions. Four years have passed since I last saw him."
Lady Wu's smile grew gentler as she listened in silence. Her hands never stopped moving as she straightened his collar and brushed the dust from his sleeves.
A hundred paces away, Xu Shu glanced back toward the riverbank while walking beside Zhuge Liang toward the towering gates of Chengdu. After watching the peaceful scene for a moment, he reached over and clasped his old friend firmly on the shoulder.
"This is all entirely your doing, Kongming," Xu Shu said, his voice dropping its usual playful edge. "Compared to the desperate, cornered warlord I left behind in Jingzhou, our Lord is an entirely different titan now."
Zhuge Liang lifted his feather fan with a faintly amused expression. "Must you start flattering me the moment you arrive, Yuanzhi?"
"I have never spoken more sincerely in my life," Xu Shu replied with a laugh, draping an arm over his friend's shoulders. "A reputation that will endure for generations. Achievements worthy of the history books. A minister without equal in this age. Who could see such a legacy and not feel a little envy?"
Xu Shu had always been a man of open emotions. Admiration, respect, and even sorrow for the hardships Zhuge Liang had endured were written plainly across his face.
A quiet warmth stirred within Zhuge Liang's chest.
Back in Nanyang, their friendship had never rested on talent alone. Xu Shu was broad-minded, principled, and willing to risk his life for what he believed was right. In an age filled with suspicion and betrayal, finding such a friend had been a rare blessing.
"Well then," Zhuge Liang said, smiling at last, "now that you have finally escaped Xuchang, perhaps it is time we found you a proper wife."
Xu Shu's expression changed immediately.
"Ah, Chengdu's architecture truly has its own distinctive charm," he said solemnly, turning his head to study the nearby buildings as though he had discovered a matter of great scholarly importance.
Zhuge Liang could not help laughing.
Perhaps years spent under the suffocating atmosphere of Xuchang had worn him down. Perhaps Liu Bei's new domain, filled with strange inventions and unfamiliar ideas, genuinely fascinated him. Or perhaps it was simply because the people here carried a sense of hope that had long vanished elsewhere.
Whatever the reason, Xu Shu explored Chengdu with unconcealed curiosity. Seeing this, Zhuge Liang slowed his pace and began guiding his old friend through the rapidly changing capital of Yizhou.
Among the native elites of Yizhou, few had embraced the new regime as wholeheartedly as Zhang Song.
Whenever he was not teaching at the newly established Minor Academy, he could usually be found in the central administrative hall, buried beneath endless stacks of reports and official documents.
After sealing another directive encouraging the southern commanderies to expand their sugarcane plantations, Zhang Song leaned back for a moment and glanced at the empty space where the heavenly light screen usually appeared.
Even after six months, the changes around him still felt unreal at times.
A year earlier, in this same hall, he had watched Liu Zhang drift through his days in complacent comfort while the province slowly declined around him. Music and wine had mattered more to the governor than the troubles gathering beyond Yizhou's borders.
Now that same hall had become the center of something entirely different. Policies shaped by knowledge of the future spread across the province one after another, transforming Yizhou at a pace no one could have imagined. The fortunes of the great clans, the common people, and even Zhang Song himself had all changed with it.
Shaking off his thoughts, Zhang Song looked up just as Zhuge Liang entered the hall, hiding a yawn behind his feather fan.
Walking beside him was a man dressed in plain traveling clothes with a longsword hanging at his waist. Dust covered his boots, yet his posture remained straight and composed, and his sharp eyes carried a quiet confidence.
Having personally reviewed the intelligence reports arriving from Jingzhou over the years, Zhang Song recognized him almost immediately.
He rose from behind his desk and hurried forward with unusual enthusiasm. To Zhang Song, Liu Bei had been both patron and savior, and anyone who had remained loyal during those difficult years in Jingzhou naturally earned his respect. Xu Shu, above all, had risked everything to return from the north.
Xu Shu greeted him with a formal salute before smiling warmly.
"So this is Zhang Ziqiao of Yizhou," he said. "I had heard much about you on the journey here. Seeing you in person, I find the stories were far too modest."
For a brief moment, Zhang Song instinctively braced himself, long accustomed to mockery over his appearance. Yet there was no trace of ridicule in Xu Shu's expression, only open sincerity.
The tension disappeared at once. Zhang Song burst into laughter and quickly invited the guest to take a seat.
Xu Shu glanced at the towering piles of paperwork covering the desk and let out a quiet breath of admiration.
"Kongming was telling me on the way here," he said, "that without you handling the administration, he and our lord would have collapsed from exhaustion long ago."
Zhang Song immediately waved the compliment away, though the satisfaction on his face was impossible to hide.
With the pleasantries concluded, Zhuge Liang's demeanor immediately turned serious.
"Yuanzhi," he asked calmly, folding his fan. "You came from the heart of the North. What will Cao Cao do next?"
Xu Shu didn't hesitate. He had clearly been running the tactical simulations in his head for weeks. "The Cao thief will attack Jingzhou and Xiangyang."
Zhuge Liang slowly closed his fan. "That matches the assessment Shiyuan and I reached earlier."
The geopolitical logic was simple. Cao Cao didn't care who controlled the isolated, mountainous region of Hanzhong, unless the man controlling it was named Liu Bei. The Chancellor of Wei would never allow his greatest rival to consolidate power in peace. He had to open a new front, and his only real choices were Hanzhong or Jingzhou.
Hanzhong was a logistical nightmare, shielded by towering, impassable mountain ranges. The terrain was brutal, and the Guanzhong plain to the north had yet to recover economically from years of war. Supplying a campaign there would force Cao Cao to haul grain all the way from the central plains of Henan.
Jingzhou, however, was different. The terrain was far easier to traverse, and the roads connecting it to Xuchang were stable and well maintained.
No matter how one looked at it, the first great clash of this new era would begin in Jingzhou.
Zhuge Liang listened quietly as Xu Shu outlined Cao Cao's possible troop movements. By the end, he lightly tapped his folded fan against his palm.
"Yuanzhi, your understanding of warfare has improved again. Your judgment is exceptionally clear."
Xu Shu smiled faintly. "Which is why, once I understand this 'light screen' matter in full, I will immediately return to Jingzhou."
"You just arrived! Why are you leaving already?!"
Liu Bei had only just entered the hall when he overheard the final sentence and nearly suffered a heart attack.
Xu Shu rose and bowed slightly.
"My Lord, if we wish to secure your great cause, we cannot seek comfort. Furthermore, I am unfamiliar with Yizhou, Hanzhong, and Guanzhong."
He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"But Jingzhou is different. I know that land well. And after seeing Jiangling and Gong'an with my own eyes, I wish to stand beside Yunchang. Either we hold Jiangling, or I die defending it."
Liu Bei fell silent.
Reason told him Xu Shu was correct, yet emotionally, he could not bear the thought of sending his old friend straight back to the most dangerous battlefield under Heaven.
Seeing the atmosphere grow heavy, Xu Shu suddenly blinked and grinned.
"Besides, the real tragedy is that I missed your wedding with Sun Furen," he said with exaggerated regret. "So tell me, My Lord, how long do I have to wait before I get to drink at your next wedding banquet?"
The tension in the hall instantly shattered.
Liu Bei didn't know whether to laugh or bury his face in his hands, completely flustered by the sudden pivot to his complicated love life.
Zhuge Liang watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction.
He had originally planned to leave Fa Zheng to single-handedly manage the defense of Hanzhong and force Pang Tong to undertake the grueling journey back to Jingzhou to assist Guan Yu. But with Xu Shu stepping onto the board, that strategic problem was entirely resolved.
After the laughter faded, Xu Shu suddenly remembered something.
"My Lord, regarding the man you have been so concerned about, Lu Xun. I believe he is currently known as Lu Yi of the Jiangdong Lu clan."
Liu Bei's eyes widened.
"The man has not even changed his name yet?!"
Even though he had vaguely suspected it already, he still found it difficult to understand.
"But why would a prominent Jiangdong noble clan randomly change his given name? Historically, men only do that to avoid a political taboo or to flee a disaster!"
Xu Shu raised two fingers.
"It was likely an honor bestowed upon him."
"Before I fled from Xuchang, there was a rumor concerning Cheng Li. It was said he dreamed of climbing Mount Tai and holding the sun in his hands. When Cao Cao heard of it, he added the 'sun' radical to his name and changed it to Cheng Yu. It was a sign of favor."
Xu Shu continued calmly,
"The character 'Xun' also contains the 'sun' radical, the same 'Sun' used by the Sun clan of Jiangdong. Most likely, Sun Quan later bestowed the name upon him as a sign of trust and closeness."
Liu Bei immediately understood.
Liu Bei slapped his forehead in profound realization. His entire life had been defined by running from disasters like a stray dog, so his brain had automatically defaulted to the "fleeing a catastrophe" theory. It hadn't even occurred to him that it was a royal flex.
Seeing the concern on Liu Bei's face gradually ease, Xu Shu smiled coldly.
"Furthermore, My Lord, Lu Su is still alive and kicking, and Lü Meng remains in high favor. Under such circumstances, where would this 'Lu Yi' even find the room to command an army?"
As the logic settled in, the fear Liu Bei had long associated with the name "Lu Xun" quietly disappeared.
Why should I fear these great Jiangdong clans?
The thought suddenly ignited something inside him.
He possessed Kongming, Fengchu, Xu Shu, and Fa Zheng. Every one of them had risen through ability rather than inherited privilege.
Suddenly, Liu Bei wanted to clash with these ancient, aristocratic clans that had spent centuries leaching off the lifeblood of the Han Dynasty. The light screen's horrifying prophecies regarding the centuries of chaos caused by the aristocratic monopolies burned vividly in his mind.
"Rather than letting them survive to curse the next ten generations," Liu Bei thought, his eyes narrowing into slits. "I will personally burn their foundations to the ground."
With his mood greatly improved, Liu Bei directly dragged Xu Shu away to personally choose a residence for him in Chengdu. It was obvious they were going to stay up drinking and talking until dawn.
Seeing that matters here were settled, Zhuge Liang stretched slightly and departed in the opposite direction.
He still needed to visit Doctor Zhang.
Centuries later, within the imperial palaces of Chang'an, Li Shimin was dealing with an unexpected political dilemma.
Originally, he had planned to issue a standard imperial edict, simply commanding the legendary physician Sun Simiao to appear in the throne room. But then he remembered the historical gossips and the lingering bitterness of his grand architect, Yan Liben, who had felt deeply humiliated being treated like a mere "craftsman" despite his high rank.
Li Shimin was a pragmatic ruler. He understood that if the Tang Dynasty was going to experience a true, golden renaissance of poetry, art, engineering, and medicine, he couldn't treat the masters of those fields like common servants.
So, swallowing his imperial pride, the Emperor of the Tang decided to personally visit the Imperial Medical Bureau, Taiyi Shu
There was also a secondary, highly classified reason for his field trip.
He desperately wanted to avoid his own private chambers, because Empress Zhangsun had recently brought a five-year-old girl into the palace. Her name was Wu Zhao, though the future knew her by a different title: Wu Zetian.
Every time Li Shimin looked at the tiny, babbling toddler, his brain violently reminded him that, according to the future timeline, he was supposedly going to make her his concubine. The sheer, overwhelming creepiness of the situation gave the Emperor an instant, throbbing migraine.
Thus, for the first time since the beginning of the Zhenguan era, the Emperor casually visited the Imperial Medical Bureau, Taiyi shu.
His sudden arrival nearly threw the entire Taiyi Shu into chaos.
Li Shimin was barely thirty years old. He had spent half his life on horseback, campaigning across the realm. Aside from a few chronic ailments left behind by years of warfare, the Emperor rarely required medical treatment at all.
And after the recent defeat of Illig Qaghan, the mid-ranking physicians became even more terrified upon seeing the Emperor appear without warning.
Fortunately, the Tang court had not yet adopted the rigid kneeling rituals of later dynasties, allowing the atmosphere to remain somewhat natural.
The Director of the Taiyi Shu, drenched in sweat, quickly guessed why the Emperor had come.
Sun Simiao.
At first, many of the imperial physicians had privately resented the arrival of the famed Yaowang. To them, the Emperor seeking guidance from a wandering physician rather than relying on the official court doctors was deeply humiliating.
But after Sun Simiao entered the Bureau, his medical skill silenced every complaint.
Now, all the physicians of the Taiyi Shu stood lined up in greeting.
All except Sun Simiao himself.
The old physician was nowhere to be found, causing the Director's face to pale slightly.
Li Shimin simply waved his hand, unconcerned, and instructed everyone to return to work while he personally walked toward the rear herb rooms.
There, he found Sun Simiao calmly sorting medicinal herbs.
The old physician did not even raise his head.
"Your Majesty's condition has already improved considerably," Sun Simiao said plainly. "Why trouble yourself to come here personally?"
Li Shimin rubbed his temples helplessly.
It was true.
Over the past half year, he had drastically adjusted his diet, reducing heavy meats and replacing them with lighter meals and fish. The food itself was miserable, but even he had to admit his breathing had become much easier.
"Master Sun truly feels no curiosity at all?" Li Shimin asked with a faint smile, leaning lightly against the doorway. "Do you not wish to know where I obtained the Chart of the Five Viscera?"
Sun Simiao finally turned around.
"Your Majesty may simply call me Simiao. Please do not use the title Yaowang," he replied calmly. "The Chart of the Five Viscera will save lives for generations to come. I came to Chang'an precisely to thank Your Majesty for allowing such knowledge to spread throughout the world."
He paused briefly.
"Now that my gratitude has been expressed, I intend to return to the mountains."
Li Shimin nodded slowly.
The man truly possessed no interest in fame or politics, exactly as the historical records described.
Then the Emperor straightened slightly and looked directly at the legendary physician.
"And what if I told you," Li Shimin said quietly, "that the anatomical chart I gave you was drawn hundreds of years in the future?"