Traveling back in time to Liu Feng, starting with rescuing soldier Guan Yu.

Chengdu, the Hanzhong Prince's Palace.

Despite the lingering chill of early spring, the hibiscus flowers in the back garden of the Prince's Mansion were in full bloom, their pink and white blossoms resembling clouds and mist, adorning the branches and swaying gently in the wind.

Liu Bei sat at his desk, holding a scroll of military reports forwarded from Hanzhong. The bamboo scroll was written in Guan Yu's handwriting, dated more than half a month ago, and contained the same old story of besieging Fancheng, flooding the seven armies, capturing Yu Jin, and beheading Pang De—this was the third such report he had received this month, and every word was good news.

But Liu Bei's brow remained furrowed.

He placed the bamboo slips on the table, picked up the teacup; the tea had cooled and tasted slightly bitter. From afar, the hustle and bustle of Chengdu's streets drifted in from outside the mansion gates—the shouts of peddlers and the crisp sound of mules' horseshoes striking the bluestone, blending into a scene of peaceful daily life.

But Liu Bei was still somewhat uneasy.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor, and Liu Bei's hand paused slightly. Liu Bei could even recognize that it was Zhuge Liang's footsteps—not fast, but heavy.

But Zhuge Liang never walked quickly in the Hanzhong King's residence. Liu Bei put the teacup back on the table and looked up.

Zhuge Liang stepped across the threshold.

Liu Bei's heart skipped a beat. Zhuge Liang's expression was one he had never seen before in years—his face, which was always calm and composed, and who could smile even if the sky were to fall, was now completely bloodless.

A heavy shadow hung between his brows, his thin lips were tightly pressed together, and there were faint traces of sweat on his forehead.

He even forgot to bow.

"Kongming, what happened?"

Zhuge Liang didn't beat around the bush; he turned to the door and said in a deep voice, "Bring him in."

Two servants carried in a man dressed in rags and covered in mud. The man collapsed as soon as his feet touched the ground, prostrating himself on the ground, tears streaming down his face. This was Fan You, the Prefect of Yidu, personally appointed by Liu Bei.

Liu Bei suddenly stood up, knocking over the teacups on the table, the sound of them shattering particularly jarring in the main hall.

"Fan You? Weren't you in Yidu? What are you doing here?"

His voice suddenly rose, "Has anything changed in Yidu?"

Fan You lay prostrate on the ground, trembling violently: "My lord... Yidu... Yidu is lost!"

The air in the main hall seemed to freeze for a moment.

"What did you say?" Liu Bei's voice was extremely low, yet it was more chilling than a roar.

"Eastern Wu... Lu Xun! Lu Xun personally led his troops to attack Yidu!" Fan You cried so hard he could barely speak, his forehead pounding against the brick walls. "My troops were few and far between, and we couldn't hold them off... We had no choice but to abandon the city and break through the siege, rushing back day and night to report this... I am guilty! I deserve to die!"

"Eastern Wu?" Liu Bei suddenly stepped forward. "Eastern Wu is an ally! The Treaty of Xiang River established the borders long ago. Why would Lu Xun attack Yidu!"

Zhuge Liang, who had been silent all along, finally spoke, his voice deep and resonant like water drawn from the bottom of a well, each word deliberate and clear: "My lord, the appearance of the Wu army in Yidu means that Jiangling is no longer in our hands. Lü Meng will surely take advantage of this situation. If Mi Fang and Fu Shiren surrender, Jiangling will fall, and General Guan's retreat will be cut off. Lu Xun's capture of Yidu is not for the sake of occupying a city, but to block the throat of our army's exit from Sichuan."

He raised his head and met Liu Bei's gaze. "General Guan is attacked from both sides, his supply lines are cut off, and his retreat is severed. I'm afraid he's in grave danger."

Liu Bei's pupils contracted sharply. His fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the table, causing the bamboo slips to fall to the ground with a series of dull thuds.

He stared at Fan You, his gaze sharp as a knife, and remained silent for a moment. Then Liu Bei spoke, his voice as cold as ice.

"Yidu has fallen, and the prefect has abandoned the city. Fan You, how dare you face me now?"

Fan You suddenly looked up, his lips trembling as if he wanted to say something. Liu Bei didn't give him the chance.

"Guards!" A guard entered from outside the door. "Drag him away and execute him."

Fan You's scream was cut short as two guards grabbed him and dragged him out of the main hall.

The screams echoed through the corridors and through the shadows of the hibiscus flowers in the courtyard, gradually fading away outside the gates. Only Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang remained in the main hall. Liu Bei's hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white from the force of his grip, his back to Zhuge Liang, his shoulders heaving slightly.

"Kongming," his voice was hoarse, "I want to personally lead a large army out of Sichuan."

"My lord, you mustn't." Zhuge Liang took half a step forward, speaking much faster than usual, clearly having considered the matter countless times in his mind.

"From Chengdu to Jiangling, the army must pass through the Three Gorges, then Yiling, Zigui, and Yidu to leave Sichuan. Now Yidu is in Lu Xun's hands, and the exit of the Three Gorges is blocked. Even if our army sets off immediately, it will take more than ten days to reach the Three Gorges. And the fastest horse will take more than ten days to send a military report from Jingzhou to Chengdu. My lord, think about it—we received the news of the fall of Yidu ten days later. We know nothing about what happened on General Guan's side."

He took a deep breath and finally uttered the most somber words: "Perhaps General Guan has already retreated, or even..."

He didn't finish his sentence. The word was too heavy for him to utter. Liu Bei turned around, his eyes already bloodshot.

"If I don't send troops, am I supposed to just stand by and watch Guan Yu..."

"If General Guan is still alive, he will retreat to Shangyong," Zhuge Liang said decisively. "If General Guan has already died for his country, my lord's journey will be like using the entire nation's army to break down a door that has already been sealed. At that time, Shu will be vulnerable. If Cao Wei takes the opportunity to press in from Hanzhong, or if the southern barbarians seize the opportunity to cause chaos—my lord, the foundation of the Han Dynasty built over three generations will be destroyed overnight!"

Liu Bei shuddered, staggered back half a step, and slammed his lower back against the edge of the table with a dull thud.

Looking at Zhuge Liang, his lips moved, but no sound came out.

Forty years of friendship. From a poor boy in Zhuojun weaving mats and selling shoes to now ruling Yizhou and becoming the King of Hanzhong.

Guan Yu had followed him through most of the country in his campaigns, never making a mistake. He couldn't just abandon him in Jingzhou—but Zhuge Liang was right, reality was cruel.

"Is there...is there really no other way..." Liu Bei's voice trembled.

Suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. The footsteps were extremely fast, almost stumbling as they rushed to the entrance of the main hall. The guard, without time to salute, knelt on one knee and raised his hands above his head.

"Report! Urgent military dispatch from Hanzhong! Written personally by Lord Guan!"

Liu Bei whirled around, his eyes still bloodshot. Hanzhong? How could it have come from Hanzhong? Guan Yu's military report should have come from the direction of Jiangling, traveling along the Yangtze River. Why would it have detoured through Hanzhong?

Could it be—his heart tightened, and he dared not think any further. Could it be that Guan Yu had already retreated to Hanzhong? Had his 30,000-strong army been reduced to mere remnants, and retreated over mountains and valleys into Hanzhong territory?

"Bring it here quickly!"

The guard presented a bamboo tube sealed with sealing wax with both hands. Liu Bei took the tube, his fingertips trembling slightly as he pried open the seal. Inside the tube was a scroll of silk, the front bearing Ma Liang's elegant handwriting, and the back stamped with Guan Yu's Azure Dragon General seal.

It really was Yun Chang.

"Your subject Guan Yu bows deeply. Xiangyang has been recovered, and I am at peace."

Seven words. Just seven words, and Liu Bei trembled. He dared not look down, and abruptly looked up at Zhuge Liang.

Zhuge Liang's gaze suddenly froze, his feather fan hovering in mid-air, and for the first time, a look of surprise appeared on his face.

Liu Bei took a deep breath, unfolded the silk scroll, and began reading it quickly, skimming through it. Only the soft rustling of the scroll turning in his fingers filled the main hall.

Then his breathing suddenly became rapid.

"Nanxiang Commandery... Liu Feng marched out of Nanxiang Commandery? To capture Rangcheng? To persuade Tian Yu to surrender?" His voice grew louder and faster with each word, not as if he were reciting, but as if it were bursting forth from the depths of his chest.

"Break through Xiangyang and Fancheng? Kill Cao Ren? Rescue Guan Yu?"

He suddenly raised his head, as if something had pulled him out of an abyss. His eyes were still red, but the light bursting from them was terrifyingly bright.

The last few lines of the silk scroll are written in Guan Yu's tone, each word revealing Guan Yunchang's unique pride and solemnity: "Liu Feng, in charge of the military and political affairs of Jingzhou, has been skillful in his deployments and possesses extraordinary courage and strategy. He is invincible in every attack and victory in every battle. The greatest credit for this battle belongs to this man. I was saved by his rescue, which allowed my army to survive. I request that Liu Feng be richly rewarded to encourage the three armies. I also beg Your Majesty to punish me for the loss of three commanderies and the loss of soldiers and generals!"

A brief, deathly silence fell over the hall.

Then Liu Bei suddenly looked up at the sky and laughed loudly.

The laughter was hoarse, carrying the lingering effects of all the emotions he had just suppressed. After he finished laughing, he slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacups to shatter and clang.

"Liu Feng, this son, is as bold as I am! He truly is my son! He truly is my son, hahaha..."