Zhuge Kongming was a man whose days were measured in heartbeats and brushstrokes.
Every breath had its place. Every stroke of the pen served a purpose.
Yet even a strategist of his caliber could, on occasion, be drawn away by something utterly ordinary.
As he passed a plain woodshed near the County Office, a sharp scent drifted toward him.
Incense.
Kongming slowed.
"Incense? Here?"
A flicker of curiosity rose in his eyes.
He stepped closer and peered through the narrow crack in the door.
Inside, three boys stood in solemn formation, their small faces taut with exaggerated seriousness, as though they were presiding over the most important event of their lives.
"I, Guan Xing!"
"I, Zhang Bao!"
"I, Adou!"
Their voices rang out one after another.
On top of a chopping block, they had arranged a makeshift altar, complete with burning incense and a few clumsily stacked offerings.
The scene was absurdly earnest.
"From this day forth, following the example of our fathers, we bind ourselves as brothers of the spirit. Henceforth..."
Kongming watched in silence.
By the end, the corners of his lips had already lifted into a helpless smile.
The entire thing was so serious, so ceremonious, and yet so unmistakably childish that it was impossible not to be amused.
He quietly withdrew before they noticed him.
As he walked away, however, a thoughtful look surfaced in his eyes.
Perhaps... if the affairs of government became a little less burdensome, he should spend more time with Yueying.
And perhaps their household ought to welcome another child as well.
With that thought in mind, he continued down the path.
Passing through three layers of security guards until he reached the most heavily fortified room in the county office.
He knocked softly.
The door opened.
The room beyond was less a chamber and more a world of invention.
Scale models of all sizes occupied one side, while the other was dominated by a hand-operated loom that had been dismantled into scattered wooden components across the floor.
Huang Yueying sat at the center of it all.
Completely absorbed.
So absorbed, in fact, that she did not even notice him enter.
Kongming could only smile.
Reality had completely overturned the history shown on the Light Screen.
In those future records, he had been the one who worked deep into the night.
Here, he was the one who left work on time, took leisurely walks after meals, and made sure to play spend time with his adopted son, Zhuge Qiao, and his daughter, Zhuge Guo.
Instead, Yueying had become the true workaholic of the household.
If he did not personally drag her away, she would remain buried in blueprints until dawn.
"My lady," Kongming said warmly, "the sun is already setting."
Yueying blinked and finally looked up.
Only then did she notice the sky outside had already turned into a wash of twilight purple and orange.
A trace of regret crossed her face.
"I still won't be able to finish it today..."
Even so, she obediently put down her tools.
After carefully locking the workshop, she walked home beside him.
"Shiyuan won't be returning next month," Kongming said, his tone light.
A faint laugh followed.
"He claims Jiangzhou is too important for him to leave. He has all but planted his feet there, so My Lord had no choice but to let him remain with Huo Jun to garrison the city."
Yueying shot him a sidelong look.
"That is entirely your fault."
"If you had not shown him that 'Marquis Wu Shrine' on the Light Screen, would he be this agitated?"
She gave a soft snort.
"And Yide keeps provoking him by comparing the titles of 'Wolong' and 'Fengchu.'"
Her eyes curved with amusement.
"My Lord even jokingly calls me the 'Female Fengchu' in private."
"Shiyuan isn't skilled in craftsmanship the way we are. It is only natural that he would be anxious about the legacy history leaves behind."
By then, they had entered the main street of Gong'an.
This was the busiest time of day.
The craftsmen had just left the workshops, and the vendors along both sides of the street were calling out louder than usual, eager to catch customers while their purses were still full.
The street was lively.
Warm.
Full of life.
Looking at the bustling scene before her, Yueying felt a deep sense of contentment.
She had truly married a man unlike any other in this world.
She turned to look at Kongming.
Only to find him gazing up at the sky, deep in thought.
"My lady," he said after a moment, "yesterday I watched Yunchang drilling the naval forces by the river."
"The warships move by borrowing the wind."
He paused.
"If a rotary waterwheel can harness the river's current... then why can we not build something that harnesses the wind itself?"
Yueying's mind immediately began racing through countless mechanical possibilities.
Yet after all that, what remained was simple admiration.
"You truly are extraordinary, husband."
For now, however, such thoughts could wait.
The day's work was over.
Meanwhile, in another part of Gong'an, Mi Zhu sat in his study, staring at a stack of newly delivered Zuobo Paper.
His younger brother, Mi Fang, had been sent off to General Zhang's camp in Linju for rigorous military training.
As a result, the residence had become noticeably quieter.
The paper itself was of excellent quality.
The problem was where it had come from, this batch was produced in Wu..
Mi Zhu's eyes narrowed slightly.
He still remembered the Military Advisor's scheme.
To lower Sun Quan and Zhou Gongjin's guard, Kongming had forged a letter in Mi Fang's handwriting and sent it to Jiandong.
To make it believable, they had deliberately leaked part of the Zuobo Paper formula as bait.
That move had ultimately secured Jiangling for Lord Liu.
Now, looking at the imitation paper produced in Wu, Mi Zhu fell into deep thought.
"What is the current market price?"
His confidant had clearly prepared in advance.
"Wu lacks mulberry trees. Their paper workshops must import mulberry bark."
"We had the papermakers in Gong'an calculate the costs. A single roll over there costs no less than eight hundred coins."
A faint chill ran down Mi Zhu's spine.
Lacks mulberry trees? Was even this part of the Military Advisor's plan?
His expression remained calm.
"Do not expand the Jingzhou paper mills. Maintain the current scale."
He looked down at the paper in his hands.
"The price of Zhuge Paper is to remain exactly the same as Wu's."
After a brief pause, a cold smile appeared on his face.
"Wait until their paper industry reaches its peak."
After all, Jing Province's hand contained far more than paper alone.
Far away in Chang'an, Tang Dynasty, ever since the appearance of the Light Screen, Li Shimin had practically taken up residence in Ganlu Hall.
Whenever Du Ruhui or Fang Xuanling entered, they would often find the Son of Heaven pacing barefoot across the floor, eyes fixed on an enormous silk map.
The map had been redrawn on a much grander scale.
Since the Light Screen had never clearly marked the borders of that era, Zhangsun Wuji had tactfully replaced the words Great Han with Great Tang.
The foreign merchants in Chang'an had quickly sensed the court's growing interest in the Western Regions.
Naturally, they were more than happy to profit from it.
Thus the map became increasingly detailed.
Loulan.
Yutian.
Kucha.
Wusun.
Shule.
One name after another was pinned onto the vast silk surface.
Orders were continuously sent out from Chang'an, shipwrights were to be gathered.
Ocean-going vessels were to be experimentally constructed.
Whenever Du Ruhui looked at the ministers gathered before the map, he often felt as though they were not merely staring at silk and ink.
It was as if their gazes had already crossed the mountains and seas.
Yet the mundane affairs of state still pressed on.
"Your Majesty, Lu Zushang still refuses the appointment as Governor of Yingzhou."
Li Shimin's expression did not change.
"According to the law, execute him by strangulation."
His voice was flat.
Cold.
After delaying for an entire year, Lu Zushang had finally exhausted the Emperor's patience.
Du Ruhui bowed.
"As Your Majesty commands."
Later, Fang Xuanling stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, the sacrifice at the Circular Altar is scheduled for next month."
At once, Li Shimin's eyes lit up.
"Can the Light Screen be invited to the ceremony?"
Consequently, during the Grand Sacrifice, the officials noticed a rare, solemn intensity in the Emperor.
But to Li Shimin's disappointment, the ceremony, from fasting to food offerings, the Light Screen remained silent.
There was no sudden opening of the Light Screen, nor any voice thanking them for gifts as they had seen in the Ganlu Hall.
The officials watched helplessly as the Emperor's expression gradually shifted from expectation to visible disappointment.
By the time the offerings concluded, impatience had already settled over his face.
He dismissed the feast early and returned to the palace.
Even Wei Zheng later cornered Du Ruhui to ask what had happened, but Du Ruhui said nothing.
After the sacrifice, the countdown to the New Year began in earnest. Both the officials and the Emperor grew busier.
The ministers were frantic, trying to clear their desks so they wouldn't have to work during the ten-day holiday. The Emperor, meanwhile, was stealing every spare moment to spend with his Empress Zhangsun.
Li Shimin calculated that the upcoming ten-day festival might be the busiest period of his life.
On the morning of the New Year, he was awakened by his attendants before dawn. The Great Court Assembly was destined to be a long affair.
Civil and military officials, regional envoys, and foreign emissaries all presented treasures.
Imperial rewards were granted in return.
Memorials were read.
Auspicious omens were recorded.
Tributes were catalogued.
Astronomical reports were delivered.
Afterward came the Grand Display.
Rare ritual vessels and national treasures were displayed in full view, a show of Great Tang's majesty.
Yet among the treasures, something strange stood at the very end.
A single book.
Due to protocol, they couldn't get close enough to read it, but from a distance, it appeared to be a thread-bound volume.
Was it a manual on war? A classic of Confucianism? A treatise on agriculture? Or a record of foreign lands?
Speculation spread rapidly among the gathered officials and envoys. Only Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui's expressions twitched ever so slightly.
His Majesty was being a little too bold.
That evening, in Ganlu Hall, Li Shimin responded to their concerns with perfect confidence.
"Does this book not qualify as a treasure of the state?"
The two ministers exchanged glances.
Then both nodded.
"The knowledge within the Light Screen encompasses all under heaven. At times, even a single line is enough to awaken a person from years of slumber."
Li Shimin immediately smiled.
"Then it stays."
He lifted his chin.
"All the so-called auspicious omens presented by the various states today are not worth even one ten-thousandth of what the Light Screen has shown us."
Then he added,
"Tomorrow, invite Li Jing."
"Yaoshi has always admired the Marquis Wu, Zhuge Kongming. Seeing the records of the Northern Expeditions from Mount Qi will surely delight him."
The two ministers bowed.
Meanwhile, in Gong'an, late April.
Lord Liu pushed open the side hall door, travel-worn from his river journey.
His civil and military officials were already waiting.
After draining a large cup of tea in one go, he finally spoke. "Ma Chao has finally rebelled against Cao Cao."
"The day of Ma Teng's death is near."
Zhang Yide, long tired of hearing his elder brother worry over the matter, finally spoke.
"Big brother."
"Why are you carrying someone else's coffin into our own house just to mourn?"
"A man like Ma Chao... did you truly believe a single letter from you could stop him?"