Chapter Thirty-One: Liu, Guan, and Zhang

“If I do not avenge my brother, what worth is this vast empire to me, no matter how great?”
“In my eyes, Yan Liang is no more than a man parading his head for sale!”
“I am Zhang Yide of Yan! Who dares to fight me to the death? Zhang Yide of Yan is here—who will come and face me in mortal combat?!”

As these three figures came into view, these immortal words thundered in Zhang Yu’s mind, leaving him shaken beyond words.

“So… this is how we meet? My uncle, the righteous Lord Liu, Uncle Guan whose loyalty stands tall among the clouds, and the very Zhang Yide who shattered the bridge at Dangyang?”

All Zhang Yu could do was keep a polite smile on his face, letting his mind, still ringing from the shock, slowly settle. Even though he had already sworn brotherhood with Zhao Yun, meeting Liu, Guan, and Zhang in person was something else entirely.

These three—truly, their names would echo through the ages, sung by generations, known to every soul across the land.

These were the men whose brotherhood was sworn in the Peach Garden, who marched south and north, traversing the breadth of China, and founded the very pillars of Shu-Han.

You might not read the tales of the Three Kingdoms, but you would surely know the names—Liu, Guan, and Zhang.

The man in the center carried himself with a quiet modesty, like a sword whose edge was sheathed, simple yet noble. His ears hung low to his shoulders, hands reached past his knees. Quiet and unassuming, he was easy to overlook—until you noticed him, at which point you could never ignore him again.

To the left stood a man even taller than Zhang Yu, who himself was over six feet. Phoenix eyes, a ruddy face, a splendid beard—his air of proud defiance and the unyielding strength that seemed to split mountains and stones made him a figure who could stand tall before heaven and earth.

The man on the right was even more striking, his complexion not much lighter than the bristling steel-like beard that framed his jaw. Fierce tiger eyes, a round gaze, and muscles that seemed ready to burst with power—his very presence was the definition of might.

Though their winter clothing was thin, the three exuded a formidable and imposing aura. Heavy cloaks draped across their shoulders, travel bags in hand, their appearance was that of men worn by the road.

As the leading man stepped into the courtyard, servants quickly came forward to take their luggage. The maids and attendants soon withdrew, leaving the group in peace.

“Xuande, Yun Chang, Yide, it’s been too long!” Zhang Shiping greeted them with a warm smile.

“It’s a wonder you still remember you have a sister like me,” Liu’s wife said, following behind Zhang Shiping, her tone tinged with gentle reproach. Rain Mo stepped back half a pace, quietly accompanying her.

(2/3)

“I’m ashamed to say, during my years warring on the battlefield and governing the plains, I often thought of my brother-in-law and my dear sister. Yet, seeing the land ravaged by famine, the people starving and suffering, all my thoughts were consumed by the desire to bring them peace. I rose early and lay awake at night, striving for the common folk’s well-being, and before I knew it, so many years had slipped by. I neglected you, brother-in-law and sister, and my little nephew as well. Early this summer, when I was in—”

As Liu Bei spoke, he finally turned to look at the elegantly dressed young man. Despite his usual composure, he was visibly taken aback for a moment.

“When I was in the city of Pingyuan, I first heard the famed works spreading under the name ‘Jade Boy’. It was then I realized how deeply I’d been ensnared by affairs of state, neglecting my own flesh and blood for far too long. So I made haste to finish my duties before the year’s end, so I could spend time with you, my dear family, and celebrate the new year together!”

His heartfelt words, spoken with sincerity and warmth, combined with his scholarly bearing and deep, resonant voice, moved all who listened.

“Even if I know he might be acting, this speech is impressive—truly the performance of a master actor…” Zhang Yu kept his polite smile as he observed the three brothers, quietly admiring them.

Aside from Liu Bei, the other two brothers were also studying Zhang Yu. Guan Yu narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint smile on his lips, while Zhang Fei boomed loudly, “No wonder you’re the famed Jade Boy of Hebei, my elder brother’s nephew! Such fine looks—why, even I, Zhang Fei, could not paint them if I tried!”

“You flatter me, Third Uncle. I’ve long heard that you and Second Uncle treat my uncle as your own brother. If I call you uncles as well, I hope you won’t take offense,” Zhang Yu replied with a gentle bow, earning silent nods of approval from the three.

“Yu’er,” Liu Bei approached, removed his cloak, and draped it over Zhang Yu’s shoulders, carefully brushing the snow from his clothes with his own frost-reddened hands. “In this bitter cold, why are you covered in so much snow? You’ve always been delicate since childhood, yet your spirit is lively. If you catch a chill, it won’t be good at all.”

Watching Liu Bei, his hands red and stiff with cold, brush the snow from him, Zhang Yu couldn’t help but feel moved. Yet, he couldn’t let his uncle tend to him like a child, and was unsure how to decline. Zhang Shiping and his wife quickly led the three guests toward the main hall.

The path through the house was a mess, yet Liu Bei showed no sign of concern as he walked alongside Zhang Yu. Behind them, Zhang Fei whispered loudly to Guan Yu—loud enough for Zhang Yu to hear clearly, better than the morning’s bird calls…

“Second Brother, why is this white snow all trampled and chaotic, as if a battle was fought here? What tricks do you think our nephew’s been up to?”

“Second Brother, look at those two big snowballs, with brooms sticking out of them. Who knows what they’re for—it must be another new game of our nephew’s!”

“Yide, have some patience. We’ll be staying here for some time; all will become clear soon enough.”

After a short walk, they reached the main hall. The fire was already burning warmly, and the six of them took their seats in order of precedence. Zhang Shiping signaled Rain Mo to have tea served.

“Yu’er, ever since the Yellow Turban uprising, your uncle hasn’t seen you. Six years have passed in a blink, and the darling little nephew I once knew has grown into such a refined and talented young man. Seeing you safe and accomplished today brings me more joy than any victory I’ve ever won!” Liu Bei said with a smile as he removed his outer robe.

(3/3)

After a few brief exchanges and the formal introductions, Zhang Yu excused himself with good sense. These old friends had not seen each other in years and surely had much to discuss. His presence would only make it awkward for his parents and the three brothers to speak freely. There would be plenty of time to get to know them better in the days to come.

Foregoing his usual exercise routine, Zhang Yu returned to his room and brewed himself a cup of tea. The faint aroma did little to clear his mind, but he found comfort in the ritual itself.

“Liu Bei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei… To think I would meet the ultimate trio of the Three Kingdoms today.

Some might not believe it, but it was they who came seeking me…

Guan and Zhang live up to their reputations—just by looking at them, you can tell they’re the kind of men who can take a general’s head amidst ten thousand soldiers. And Liu Bei—he looked at me, his nephew, with eyes nearly as warm as if I were his own son. If that’s only an act, then he’s fooled even himself. Besides, if he were truly false, could the likes of Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix have been so willing to follow him, to serve and risk their lives?”

He tapped the lid against the rim of his cup, blew gently, and sipped the tea.

In his previous life, Zhang Yu had almost never drunk tea, so he could not imagine how unpalatable this era’s brew could be… In the Han dynasty, tea was made by crushing tea bricks, pouring in boiling water, and adding scallions, ginger, and orange peel—scallions and ginger! The mere thought was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

But with no other beverages available, and plain water too bland, Zhang Yu often passed the time with tea. At least, the ritual gave him space for focused thought. Of course, he would never add scallions or ginger…

“So, should I throw my lot in with my uncle?

If Guan Yu never falls, if the army presses on to Xuchang, there would be no self-destruction for Liu Bei, no tiger brought low for Zhang Fei.

If Zhuge Liang could look past his prejudices and strike through the Ziwu Valley with a surprise force, they might have taken Chang’an in one bold sweep.

If only Pang Tong could have been kept from riding a white horse into Fallen Phoenix Slope—if both Dragon and Phoenix survived, with the Five Tiger Generals and a righteous, benevolent lord vying for the land, could Shu Han not have stood a chance?

At the very least, it would be better than watching the Sima family bring ruin to China, wouldn’t it?

So… should I?”