Han Ji

"Are you hurt? Huh?"

"No, everything is fine." Liu Bei forced a smile, revealing a reassuring one, but his right arm instinctively shrank back.

Liu's mother didn't believe him. She reached out and touched his arm, feeling the slightly firm texture beneath the fabric of his right arm—the grooves left by the healing muscles after the injury. Tears welled up in her eyes again: "You're still lying to your mother..."

"I'm really fine, just a minor injury, it's all healed." Liu Bei took his mother's hand in return, his tone relaxed. "My teacher took very good care of me, and my comrades in Lujiang were also very kind to me. Look, I've returned unharmed."

Looking at him, Liu's mother both cried and laughed, finally letting out a long sigh. She patted his hand hard, saying, "It's good that you're back, it's good that you're back... I'll go heat up some food for you. You must be freezing on the way here!"

Watching his mother's busy figure and hearing her familiar voice in the kitchen, Liu Bei's tense mind finally relaxed little by little and settled down.

Before the corn porridge at home was even cooked, the gate to the yard was suddenly slammed open with a loud bang.

"Xuande! Xuande!" Jian Yong's voice arrived before he did, filled with an urgent, reckless urgency. He rushed into the room, bringing with him a chill, his hair disheveled, his face flushed with excitement and cold. When he saw Liu Bei sitting under the lamp, he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening, his mouth agape, momentarily speechless.

Immediately afterward, Qian Zhao strode in. He was more composed than Jian Yong, but his chest was also rising and falling slightly. His gaze fell on Liu Bei, and his sharp eyes were also filled with disbelief and immense joy.

"You...you're really back?!" Jian Yong finally found his voice, rushed forward, circled Liu Bei twice, and looked him up and down. "Good heavens! This physique, this bearing...if it weren't for the fact that it's still the same face, I wouldn't recognize him!"

Qian Zhao didn't speak, but walked up to Liu Bei, stretched out his fist, and lightly punched his shoulder. Four years had passed, and Qian Zhao's physique had become even more robust, and the force in his hand was heavier. This punch carried the unique intimacy of a northern man.

Liu Bei took the punch, then laughed and punched him back: "What, hoping I wouldn't come back?"

"Nonsense!" Jian Yong shouted. "We heard that you went back to Zhuojun with Magistrate Lu, so we went to the prefect's office to inquire. They said you went to the post station but found it empty. We guessed you must have gone home, so we came here!"

He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and winked, "You're something else! A military advisor from Lujiang! You slew barbarians in battle! I've heard it all! It's all over the county now! Everyone's saying our Zhuojun has produced an extraordinary figure!"

Qian Zhao finally spoke, her voice low and deep: "It must have been tough over there, right?"

Looking at his two close friends, Liu Bei felt that the four years had left no barrier between them; the friendship forged since childhood had only grown stronger at this reunion. He smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and dispelled the slight weariness from his brow: "It's a long story."

Then, Liu's mother brought in some warmed porridge, pickled vegetables, and a bowl of meat soup. When she saw Jian Yong and Qian Zhao, a kind smile appeared on her face: "It's Xianhe and Zijing, you're both here. Perfect timing, let's eat something together and chat with Bei'er."

"Oh! Thank you, Auntie!" Jian Yong said sweetly, immediately stepping forward to take the bowl of porridge.

The three sat around the wooden table, enjoying pickled vegetables and meat soup while drinking piping hot millet porridge. Jian Yong eagerly pressed for details about Lujiang, and Liu Bei picked out the things he could talk about, omitting the overly bloody and dangerous details, and recounted the customs of the barbarians, the terrain of the mountains, and the battle in which he used a clever strategy to ultimately quell Zhou Chong and the mountain demon tribe.

Even though he spoke briefly, the thrilling details still made Jian Yong shout and yell, and even the usually calm Qian Zhao's eyes lit up.

"...In the end, that Xiao King was stabbed by that brat Wugu, and only then did our people have the opportunity to take him down." Liu Bei finished the last mouthful of porridge, put down the bowl, and said, "With Zhou Chong brought to justice and the powerful clans bowing their heads, Lujiang can finally be considered truly at peace."

"Incredible! Absolutely incredible!" Jian Yong slapped his thigh, his face beaming with excitement. "I knew you were no ordinary person! I could tell back when we were selling grain! You're far superior to us!"

Qian Zhao looked at him and suddenly asked, "What are your plans next?"

Liu Bei wiped his mouth: "My teacher has already made arrangements for me. The recommendation for me to be a filial and incorruptible official has been submitted to the court. Now, I just need to wait for news at home."

"A scholar who has passed the imperial examinations and is recommended for the civil service examinations!" Jian Yong's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! The right path! I didn't expect Master Lu to value you so much!"

Qian Zhao nodded, a look of agreement on his face. They all knew that this was the path Liu Bei had chosen himself, and it was the path most suitable for him.

"Enough about me," Liu Bei said, looking at them. "How have you all been these past few years?"

Jian Yong chuckled and began to talk at length about the changes in Zhuojun in recent years, the interesting stories in the city, who got married, and who had bad luck. He himself helped with some family affairs, and in his spare time he still called on friends and lived a comfortable life.

Qian Zhao was a man of few words, speaking only briefly. His martial arts skills had become increasingly refined, and he had gained some local fame. Occasionally, he would help the prefectural government maintain order or lead people into the mountains to hunt.

"Oh, right," Jian Yong suddenly remembered something, "have you seen Deran since you came back?"

Liu Deran, my cousin De, whom I studied with in Luoyang years ago. Liu Bei shook his head: "I just got home, I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet."

Jian Yong continued, "In the past two years, my aunt's life and daily life have been mostly taken care of by Brother Deran."

Liu Bei hummed in agreement, saying nothing more. He was grateful for the friendship between classmates and brothers from the same clan.

Jian Yong stood up, grabbed Liu Bei, and said, "Come on! Your return today is a great joy! We must drink until we drop! I know a new tavern in the East Market that serves incredibly tender stewed mutton and excellent wine!"

Qian Zhao also stood up, her eyes conveying the same meaning.

Looking at them, Liu Bei felt a warm current surge through his chest—a feeling of exhilaration he hadn't experienced in a long time, a feeling he hadn't felt amidst the swordplay and scheming of Lujiang. He laughed loudly, "Good! Let's drink until we're drunk!"

The road to Zhuoxian under the cover of night was cold and quiet. Three grown-up boys, arm in arm, trudged through the snow toward the dimly lit area, their laughter startling the crows perched in the corners of the eaves.

Inside the tavern, the charcoal fire made people's cheeks burn. Large bowls of wine, large chunks of meat—no need for many elegant words, everything was in the wine.

Jian Yong, his face flushed from drinking, clutched his wine jar and rambled on about embarrassing incidents from their childhood, like fighting and getting punished together. Qian Zhao didn't say much, but he emptied his cup and looked at Liu Bei with clear eyes.

Liu Bei also drank heartily. The oppressive atmosphere of Lujiang, the tension of the battlefield, and the uncertainty of the future were all diluted by the strong liquor of reuniting with his close friends. He listened, laughed, and occasionally chimed in, as if he had returned to those carefree days of his youth, filled only with brotherhood.

The three of them only got up unsteadily when the shopkeeper came over yawning and reminded them that it was time to close.

As they reached the street corner where they would part ways, Jian Yong grabbed Liu Bei's arm, his tongue slurring, "Xuande... hiccup... when you go to Luoyang... don't forget... there are still... still brothers in Zhuojun!"

Qian Zhao patted Liu Bei heavily on the back, everything was understood without words.

Liu Bei looked at them and nodded solemnly: "I will never forget."

Watching the two of them support each other and stagger into the end of the alley, Liu Bei stood alone under the cold moonlight. The wind had dissipated most of his drunkenness, but his heart was burning even hotter.

A few days later, Lu Zhi was to return to Luoyang.

Before leaving Zhuojun, Liu Bei left behind several scrolls of books, mostly about officialdom.