For Wang Xuance, this entire day felt unreal.
His eyesight was sharp. He had clearly seen the bizarre comments floating across the screen. And then he saw it.
Ghost_of_Warrior: "To the official Tang historians: go eat dirt! You recorded Wang Xuance's solo conquest of an Indian kingdom using borrowed mercenaries, but you forgot to write down Wang Xuance's birth and death years!"
He read it again. And again.
Solo conquest. Borrowed mercenaries. An Indian kingdom.
Someone in the future was defending him. Complaining about historians on his behalf. They knew his name. They knew his achievement. They just didn't know when he was born or when he died.
Wang Xuance felt a strange mix of emotions. Gratitude, first of all. Someone out there cared enough to defend his legacy. But also... annoyance.
They recorded my conquest but forgot my birth and death years? he thought. What kind of historians are these? That's basic information. That's the first thing you write down. Name, birth, death. It's not complicated.
He made a mental note. If he ever met a historian from the future, he would have a few words for them.
Seriously. How hard is it to write two dates?
By piecing together the fragments, he arrived at a mind-bending conclusion. He was destined to destroy a foreign nation. And this campaign would carve his name into history.
He sat on his small wooden stool, muscles stiff from holding the same position for too long. But he straightened his spine anyway.
Was any of this real?
It had to be. Why else would the imperial court summon a nobody from the backwaters of Rongzhou?
When he first arrived at his rural post, the local magistrate had patted his shoulder and told him to settle in for five years. Wang Xuance had prepared himself for half a decade of counting grain sacks and settling petty disputes.
Six months later, an urgent decree yanked him back to Chang'an.
He still remembered the bewildered look on the magistrate's face when the royal envoy read the transfer orders. Wang Xuance almost got a heart attack. What crime did I commit? Why is the Emperor summoning me?
Only a destiny of historical magnitude could explain this level of imperial favor.
But that realization brought new pressure. He was Wang Xuance. But he had no idea what miraculous feats the future generations were talking about. How was a civil servant supposed to destroy a country?
No wonder the Emperor had been so weird during their first meeting. Li Shimin had skipped all pleasantries and interrogated him about Japan, India, then pivoted to the trade routes of the Western Regions.
Looking back, Wang Xuance realized his brain had been so fogged with panic that he barely remembered his own answers. He wanted to slam his forehead against the floor in embarrassment.
Man... this Emperor is really pulling my leg.
If I had known I was apparently destined for historical greatness, he thought, I would have prepared a little better. At least sounded intelligent.
Instead, he had probably looked like a startled deer wandering into the wrong government office.
He was so caught up in his own impending destiny that he barely registered Li Jing submitting calligraphy to the screen.
What... what... what are you doing, old man? Is that normal? Can you just send something to future descendants like that?
He watched in disbelief as the legendary general calmly rolled up his calligraphy and placed it in a box.
When the broadcast finally came to an end, no one in the hall was more affected than Li Shimin.
His gaze remained fixed on the map spread across the table.
"This Hexi Corridor," he said slowly, "is truly a treasure bestowed by Heaven."
The future commentators had spent a great deal of time discussing geography, economics, resources, and geopolitics. Much of it was complex. Some of it relied on concepts unfamiliar to his era.
Li Shimin, however, had a talent for finding the heart of an issue.
The Hexi Corridor had rich mineral deposits. It had vast grazing lands capable of producing excellent warhorses. Most importantly, it was the gateway connecting the Central Plains to the Western Regions.
For an ambitious ruler, what more could you ask for?
The more he thought about it, the more determined he became. If the Tang wanted to project its influence westward, the Hexi Corridor wasn't just important. It was essential.
Li Shimin's understanding of future administrative divisions was still limited. The provinces described by future generations didn't exist in his time. Many of their boundaries were hard to visualize.
Fortunately, the light screen had provided enough clues.
The broadcast had mentioned Zhang Yichao and his campaigns to recover Hexi from Tibetan control. It had also repeatedly mentioned places like Ganzhou and Suzhou.
Those names were familiar.
After studying the available information, Li Shimin had already formed a rough idea of the region that future generations called Gansu.
The exact borders might differ from his era, but the core territory was easy enough to identify.
After all, they belonged to the same civilization. Dynasties rose and fell. Borders shifted. Administrative systems changed.
Yet many place names endured for centuries, sometimes even millennia.
That continuity allowed the people of later ages to recognize the lands of their ancestors. And it allowed Li Shimin to trace the outlines of the future upon his own maps.
"Your Majesty, grant me the vanguard!"
Li Ji stepped forward before anyone else could speak. His voice rang through the hall.
"I swear to open the Hexi Corridor for the Great Tang!"
His eagerness wasn't just about military glory.
Ever since the Light Screen had revealed his weird reputation in later generations, Li Ji had been holding a grudge.
He could accept being remembered as a famous general. He could accept being remembered as a founding hero. He could even accept being remembered as a military genius.
But a Daoist sorcerer? Spending his days casting spells and chasing demons?
The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became.
If future generations insist on remembering me, he thought, remember my campaigns. Not my imaginary magic tricks.
Before Li Shimin could respond, Su Lie stepped forward too.
"Wherever Your Majesty points his sword, this servant will follow!"
His voice carried the fierce confidence of youth.
"If the enemy stands in our way, we'll crush them. If mountains stand in our way, we'll climb them."
The two generals stood side by side. Neither willing to give ground.
The atmosphere in the hall immediately became much more lively.
A few ministers exchanged amused looks. Moments ago they had been discussing geography. Now the military officers looked ready to saddle their horses and leave immediately.
Nearby, Li Jing remained calm. He simply stepped forward and offered a formal salute.
No grand declaration. No dramatic oath.
But everyone understood the meaning perfectly. If the empire needed him, he was ready to march.
Seeing his generals' reactions, Li Shimin couldn't help laughing.
The Hexi Corridor was still hundreds of miles away. Countless preparations remained unfinished. Supplies not gathered. Routes not secured. Plans not finalized.
Yet judging by the faces in front of him, one might think the campaign was starting tomorrow morning.
His gaze swept across Li Jing, Li Ji, and Su Lie.
One was already acknowledged by future generations as one of the greatest commanders in Chinese history. The other two clearly weren't far behind.
Even Li Shimin felt a surge of confidence.
As Emperor, he could no longer lead every campaign personally like in his younger days. That was a minor regret.
Then again, with generals like these serving under the Tang banner, maybe there was nothing to regret at all.
A smile appeared on his face.
"Very well."
Li Shimin rested a hand on the map.
"When the time comes, there will be enough battles for all of you."
At those words, the three generals saluted in unison.
The ministers could practically hear the Turks, Tuyuhun, and Tibet already developing headaches
Watching from the sidelines, Qin Qiong couldn't help feeling a trace of regret.
His gaze drifted toward Yuchi Jingde. The man's broad shoulders were still as imposing as ever. The vigor in his movements showed little sign of fading. Looking at him, Qin Qiong found himself wondering what he would have done if his own body had remained in such condition.
Most likely, he would have stepped forward alongside the others and fought for the vanguard too.
After all, future generations had already made him a Door God. If that wasn't enough qualification to guard the empire's frontiers, what was?
The thought almost made him laugh.
For a military man, there were few honors greater than standing watch over the empire's gates, sword in hand, while foreign kingdoms trembled beyond the horizon.
Unfortunately, ideals and reality rarely matched.
A faint itch rose in his chest. Qin Qiong quietly raised a sleeve and suppressed a cough before anyone noticed. The action was so practiced it was almost instinctive.
His body had carried the scars of too many campaigns for too many years. The excitement filling the hall only made those limitations feel more obvious.
Still, Qin Qiong wasn't ready to give up.
As he watched the eager generals discussing future campaigns, he silently made a decision.
Later, after the court session ended, he would find an opportunity to talk to Yuchi Jingde.
The man relied too much on instinct. His natural talent was undeniable, but talent alone wasn't enough. Not anymore.
The western frontier was vast. Future wars would only get more complicated. Yuchi Jingde needed to spend more time studying military theory with Li Jing. He needed to review intelligence reports, understand logistics, and learn everything the Light Screen had revealed about the lands beyond the empire's borders.
There was limitless glory waiting in the west. It would be a shame if someone else claimed all of it first.
A faint smile appeared on Qin Qiong's face.
Then another thought crossed his mind.
Perhaps he should pay a visit to the imperial physicians as well. More specifically, Sun Simiao.
The Light Screen had already revealed enough for everyone to understand the old physician's future reputation. The King of Medicine.
Even hearing the title felt reassuring.
If anyone in the empire could help him reclaim a few more years of strength, it would be that man.
Qin Qiong's hand unconsciously tightened around the armrest.
He wasn't afraid of death. A soldier who had survived battlefields like his had long since made peace with that possibility.
What he couldn't accept was spending the rest of his life confined to a residence, listening to reports of great victories achieved by younger men.
If fate gave him one more chance, he wanted to ride west. He wanted to see those distant frontiers with his own eyes. He wanted to hear the thunder of hooves beneath him one last time.
And if the end eventually came on some windswept battlefield beyond the empire's borders? That would be far better than slowly losing a battle against his own lungs while lying on a silk mattress.
Li Shimin had never liked wasting time. The moment the broadcast ended, he waved his hand and dismissed the gathering.
The ministers had barely started heading for the doors when the Emperor called out one final reminder.
"The matter concerning Hou Junji and Crown Prince Chengqian does not leave this room."
His gaze swept across the hall.
"And none of you are writing it down either. No journals. No private records. No clever little secret ledgers hidden under your beds."
A few ministers coughed awkwardly.
Future treason cases were the sort of thing that could give an entire court collective paranoia. One involved a celebrated general. The other involved the Crown Prince. If even a fragment of that information leaked out, half the bureaucracy would start suspecting the other half by tomorrow morning.
Everyone understood immediately.
Several veterans exchanged amused looks with Li Jing.
The old general instantly knew why they were staring at him.
"Don't look at me," he said.
"We're not."
"You absolutely are."
"We're merely appreciating your contribution to state security."
Li Jing rolled his eyes.
A moment later, the ministers filed out of the hall, still trying and failing to suppress their smiles.
Meanwhile, Wang Xuance sat frozen in place.
Just as he was preparing to leave, Li Shimin had casually motioned for him to stay behind. Nobody explained why.
So Wang Xuance remained where he was, perched awkwardly on a folding stool like a student who had just been told to wait after class.
Zhangsun Wuji looked back once. Then a second time. Then a third.
The expression on his face made it abundantly clear that he was very curious about what His Majesty intended to discuss.
Unfortunately for him, curiosity wasn't enough to ignore an imperial dismissal.
Eventually, he sighed and left. The doors closed behind him with a heavy thud.
Silence settled over the hall.
Then another figure stepped out from behind a jade folding screen.
Wang Xuance blinked.
A monk.
The man moved with calm, measured steps. His expression was peaceful, and there was a quiet steadiness about him that made the surrounding atmosphere feel calmer.
Wang Xuance recognized him immediately.
Master Xuanzang.
Li Shimin's demeanor visibly softened.
"Master Xuanzang," the Emperor said with genuine respect, "have you reached a decision?"
The monk brought his palms together and bowed slightly.
"I have."
His voice was gentle but unwavering.
"I am willing to journey west and seek the Dharma for the benefit of the Great Tang."
Li Shimin nodded. Expected.
Over the past month, he had spent considerable time reviewing the future records about Xuanzang and speaking with the monk personally. Nobody crossed deserts, mountains, and countless foreign kingdoms without extraordinary determination. The Light Screen had shown many remarkable individuals. Even among them, Xuanzang stood out.
Then Li Shimin turned toward Wang Xuance.
The young official immediately sat up straighter.
"Wang Xuance."
The Emperor's voice was enough to make his heart skip a beat.
"Are you willing to accompany him?"
Wang Xuance nearly fell off his stool. He stared at the Emperor. Then at Xuanzang. Then back at the Emperor.
"Your Majesty... your humble servant... is not prepared to shave his head and become a monk."
Li Shimin burst out laughing. Even Xuanzang's lips twitched slightly.
"Worry not," the Emperor waved a hand. "I am not sending you to a monastery. I am sending you to the Western Regions."
He tapped the map.
"You will accompany Master Xuanzang and a detachment of elite guards. Along the way, you will observe local customs, record geography, study trade routes, and gather intelligence on every kingdom you encounter."
His finger traced across the parchment.
"I want to know who rules them. I want to know who they trade with. I want to know their strengths, their weaknesses, and their ambitions."
Wang Xuance swallowed.
Li Shimin continued.
"When you eventually reach India, you will return and report directly to me."
He paused.
"This journey will be dangerous. Bandits. Deserts. Mountains. Disease. Foreign courts. Men will die."
His eyes locked onto Wang Xuance.
"I will ask one final time. Are you willing to go?"
Wang Xuance rose from his stool. Then he dropped to one knee.
"Your servant is willing."
His voice was steady.
"If Your Majesty entrusts me with this mission, then I will not disappoint you."
Meanwhile, far to the south, Chengdu's administrative headquarters had turned into something resembling a street market.
Inside the kitchen, Zhuge Liang was examining cookware with the same intensity he normally reserved for military strategy. The group had pooled their remaining sugar reserves, but the total amount was still fairly small. No need for heavy equipment. A massive bronze cauldron would be overkill, and a clay urn would just make everything more awkward.
After a moment, Zhuge Liang reached up to a shelf and retrieved a small copper pot. He turned it over in his hands, nodded, and carried it outside.
Stepping into the courtyard, he glanced around. "Does anyone have bamboo strips?"
The question was almost ridiculous. They were in Shu. A nearby clerk immediately produced an entire bundle.
With bamboo in one hand and a borrowed knife in the other, Zhuge Liang sat down and started cutting the strips into uniform lengths. Meanwhile, Pang Tong took the copper pot and began assembling a cooking station.
By the time Zhuge Liang finished sharpening the bamboo skewers, Pang Tong had already built a small stove from spare bricks.
The two strategists exchanged a glance. Neither said anything. Both looked extremely pleased with themselves.
Liu Bei watched and shook his head. The empire's greatest minds had somehow become fascinated by street snacks.
Soon, several precious blocks of refined cane sugar dropped into the copper pot. Everyone had contributed. Most of the sugar came from Zhang Fei. Zhao Yun, Pang Tong, Liu Ba, and several others had reluctantly surrendered portions of their personal reserves.
As the sugar slowly melted into golden syrup, the officials gathered around the stove and watched with surprising concentration.
Then a loud voice echoed from outside.
"Brother!"
Everyone turned.
Zhang Fei stomped through the gates looking like he had just returned from a victorious military campaign. The front of his robe was bundled into a makeshift sack, overflowing with fruit.
Without explanation, he marched to a nearby table and emptied the entire collection onto it.
"I found ingredients!"
Liu Bei inspected the pile. "Lychees. Plums. And quite a few hawthorns."
Zhao Yun nodded. "The hawthorns came from the mountain north of the city. They're still far from ripe. Sour enough to make your face twist."
Liu Ba added, "The last time I ate one, I regretted my life choices."
Several people nodded in agreement.
Zhang Fei waved dismissively. "The hawthorns aren't important."
He dug through the pile, triumphantly pulled out a cluster of grapes, and held it aloft.
"Look at these!"
The courtyard went quiet.
Liu Bei stared at the grapes. Then he stared at Zhang Fei. "Where did you get those?"
Zhang Fei suddenly became very interested in the sky.
Liu Bei understood immediately. "You stole them."
"I borrowed them."
"Did the owner agree to this arrangement?"
"The details are not important."
"The details sound extremely important."
Seeing the interrogation gaining momentum, Zhang Fei quickly pointed toward the stove. "Look! The sugar's ready!"
Unfortunately for Liu Bei, everyone immediately turned around. Candied grapes were simply a more urgent matter.
Zhuge Liang wiped his hands and smiled. "Bring the fruit over, Yide." His eyes were practically shining. "We should test everything."
Pang Tong nodded solemnly. "For academic purposes."
Nobody believed him.
Using a basin of spring water that Zhao Yun had prepared, the group quickly organized themselves into an assembly line. Some washed fruit. Others threaded bamboo skewers. Pang Tong and Liu Ba monitored the syrup while Zhuge Liang inspected the consistency with alarming seriousness.
Even Liu Bei rolled up his sleeves and joined.
The process went surprisingly smoothly. Fresh fruit disappeared into one end of the line and emerged from the other covered in a beautiful layer of hardened sugar. Bright red hawthorns gleamed beneath a crystal coating. The grapes looked even better.
Several officials stared at the finished skewers with increasing interest.
Liu Bei noticed immediately. "No eating before the offering."
A collective sigh spread through the courtyard.
Eventually, the final batch was completed.
Feeling unusually relaxed, Liu Bei crouched beside the stove and fed wood into the fire. For once, there were no discussions about military campaigns. No debates over grain shipments. No reports from the frontier. Just the crackling of flames, the scent of caramelized sugar, and a courtyard full of highly accomplished officials behaving like enthusiastic street vendors.
Unfortunately, the smell drifted beyond the walls.
Classes had just ended at the nearby academy. A few students caught the scent. Then a few more. Before long, a crowd had gathered outside the gates, pressing themselves against the fence and staring into the courtyard with remarkable intensity.
When Liu Bei finally looked up and noticed them, he nearly laughed. Dozens of hopeful faces were peering through every available gap. Several looked ready to storm the compound.
He exchanged a glance with Zhuge Liang. The strategist smiled and gave a slight nod.
Liu Bei rose to his feet, dusted off his robes, and waved toward the students. "Come in. One skewer each. No pushing."
The children's eyes went wide. Then the courtyard erupted with excitement.
To their credit, the students still managed to form an orderly line. Academy discipline held. Barely.
Soon, Liu Bei was personally handing out candied fruit.
What happened next was deeply unfair. Liu Bei seemed capable of remembering nearly every child who stepped forward. Even when a name escaped him, he could usually recall where the family lived, what the parents did, or which teacher regularly complained about the student's behavior.
The children quickly realized this.
The effect was devastating.
"You are Hu Du, aren't you?"
A young boy immediately straightened. "Yes, Your Excellency."
Liu Bei smiled and handed him a skewer of candied grapes. "I met your grandfather at the western market a few days ago."
Hu Du's eyes widened. "You did?"
"I did." Liu Bei nodded. "In fact, I told him his grandson would grow up to become a pillar of the Han."
The surrounding students immediately turned to stare.
Hu Du looked like his soul had temporarily left his body.
Liu Bei patted his shoulder. "So don't make me look like a liar."
For several seconds, the boy just stood there. Then he suddenly drew himself up and declared, at a volume completely inappropriate for the situation, "I WON'T!"
Zhuge Liang sat beneath a tree at the edge of the courtyard, leisurely fanning himself as he watched Liu Bei distribute candied fruit to the academy students. A faint smile lingered on his face.
Their lord really did have a frightening talent. Most rulers spent years trying to earn their people's affection. Liu Bei only needed a few warm words, a good memory, and a stick of candy. By the look of things, half the children in Chengdu would be ready to charge into battle for him before sunset.
Not far away, Pang Tong was facing a crisis of his own.
His gaze remained fixed on the cooling rack. More specifically, on the handful of skewers nobody wanted. Thanks to Mi Zhu's enthusiastic distribution, all the candied grapes, plums, and lychees had already disappeared. The only survivors were the green hawthorns.
The same green hawthorns that Zhao Yun had repeatedly described as "aggressively sour."
Pang Tong stared at them. The hawthorns stared back. The sugar coating looked beautiful. The fruit beneath it looked malicious.
His curiosity was winning, but only by a narrow margin.
Deciding that the battle could wait a little longer, he turned his attention back toward Liu Bei.
Watching their lord effortlessly win over the students reminded him of another figure from history.
"When Emperor Guangwu studied in Luoyang," Pang Tong said thoughtfully, "I imagine he must have looked something like this."
Zhuge Liang glanced over.
Pang Tong continued. "Surrounded by the sons of powerful families, yet somehow becoming the center of attention wherever he went."
The Light Screen had mentioned that many great clans supported Liu Xiu because they saw him as a good investment. Pang Tong had never fully bought that explanation. Money and political interests certainly mattered, but they couldn't explain everything.
The future generations had never met Liu Xiu. Pang Tong had never met him either. Still, he was willing to bet that before those wealthy families invested their fortunes, they first invested their trust. Men didn't follow someone into a rebellion just because a ledger told them it was profitable. At least, not most men.
Zhuge Liang's smile widened. "It sounds like Shiyuan is already planning his place in the Yuntai Pavilion."
Pang Tong immediately sat up straighter. Every scholar knew the story. The Twenty-Eight Generals of Yuntai. The heroes who helped Emperor Guangwu restore the Han.
He puffed out his chest. "Naturally."
His expression radiated confidence. "With you and me handling strategy, our lord's achievements will surpass Emperor Guangwu's sooner or later."
Zhuge Liang considered the statement. Then he nodded. "Reasonable."
Pang Tong nearly choked. Most people would have at least pretended to be modest. Zhuge Liang just accepted the compliment as an objective observation.
Then Zhuge Liang casually asked, "What military texts is Jiang Wei studying these days?"
Pang Tong answered without thinking. "The Six Secret Teachings. I also gave him some material on battlefield formations and—"
He stopped. Slowly. Very slowly.
He turned his head.
Zhuge Liang was still smiling. The smile somehow made everything worse.
"...Why are you asking about Jiang Wei?"
Zhuge Liang looked surprised. "Asking about a promising young talent is hardly unusual."
Pang Tong didn't believe a single word of that. The Light Screen had already exposed everything. Everyone knew Jiang Wei would become Zhuge Liang's successor.
The problem was that Jiang Wei was currently being educated by Pang Tong. A fact that Pang Tong had been enjoying immensely.
Seeing the look on his friend's face, Zhuge Liang almost laughed. Instead, he folded his fan and spoke in a calm, reasonable tone.
"The Light Screen has already revealed the future."
Pang Tong's expression grew wary.
"It is now a matter of historical fact that Jiang Wei is destined to inherit my work."
There it was. The real topic had finally arrived.
Pang Tong let out a long sigh. He had been expecting this conversation for months. The only surprise was that Zhuge Liang had waited this long.
Zhuge Liang continued in the tone of a man discussing routine paperwork. "Therefore, once you finish teaching his foundations, send him to my office."
Pang Tong immediately frowned. "Your office?"
"My office."
"You make it sound like he's already your disciple."
Zhuge Liang looked genuinely confused. "He is."
"He's not."
"He will be."
"He isn't yet."
"He will be eventually."
Pang Tong felt an unexpected urge to throw a hawthorn at him. Unfortunately, doing so would probably count as wasting food.
Seeing his friend's increasingly offended expression, Zhuge Liang finally relented enough to offer a small concession.
"You may continue teaching him for now."
Pang Tong relaxed slightly.
Then Zhuge Liang added, "Just try not to fill his head with too many of your strange ideas."
Pang Tong narrowed his eyes. "What strange ideas?"
"The ones where every battle plan somehow involves three decoys, two traps, and at least one completely unnecessary surprise."
"Those surprises are necessary."
"They really aren't."
"They are if they work."
Zhuge Liang sighed.
Pang Tong grinned.
The argument continued all the way until Zhao Yun finally walked over, grabbed two candied hawthorns, and handed one to each strategist.