Li Shu understood her father's excitement. After all, no one in their family had ever held a position connected to learning.
But teaching people to recognize characters was not exactly the same as being Grand Master Zhuge. That was real scholarship. Compared with Master Zhuge, she was simply an instructor carrying out an assignment.
And then there was the money.
"Teaching literacy comes with a stipend, Father," Li Shu said, trying to sound casual. "Four hundred coins a month."
Old Man Li waved a hand, though his eyes gleamed with pride. "Four hundred? Pfft. Keep it for yourself. What matters is my little girl is a Lecturer now!"
Li Shu's face turned red. She could not exactly tell him she had only signed up because she saw Hu Du do it and got caught up in the moment. One minute she was watching, the next she had scribbled her name on the list.
Once the pride wore off, Old Man Li got practical. "When do classes start? Your father will see your first lesson with his own eyes."
Li Shu smiled awkwardly. "Master Zhuge assigned me to the paper mill. To teach the female workers. You cannot go in there, Father."
"The paper mill?" Old Man Li looked confused.
Second Brother Li swallowed a mouthful of rice and chimed in. "I heard from the supervisor that next year, all paper-making standards are going into official manuals. Literacy will be part of the job review. If you cannot read the manual, you cannot be a skilled craftsman. If you cannot memorize the key points, no promotion for you."
"That is probably why Little Sister got assigned to the paper mill," he added.
First Brother Li nodded. "The sugar refinery is doing the same thing."
Actually, this new rule worked out for First Brother. He already knew some basics. Since Li Shu joined the Taixuan Academy, he had been asking her for lessons every night by lamplight. Their family was not rich, but they had land, and both brothers worked in the workshops. Spending a few extra coins on lamp oil was worth it.
Old Man Li stroked his beard, relieved. He was glad he had ignored the naysayers and sent his daughter to school. Let that old woman Sun down the street brag about her embroiderer daughter. Money was nice, but education was how you actually moved up in the world.
Second Brother Li leaned in. "Little Sister, can you teach me more characters tonight?"
Before Li Shu could answer, Old Man Li frowned hard. "With that attitude? Even if you memorized every character in the Classics, you would still mess up managing a workshop. Save your energy. Marry Widow Qian and continue the family line. That is the real path!"
Second Brother Li shrank back, giving his siblings a helpless look.
First Brother Li quietly lowered his bowl. He wanted to get married too, but their father had shut down every matchmaker, insisting he wait until First Brother became a supervisor.
Who knew factory work would require reading skills? Was this what they meant by "Books hold beautiful women"? Or just "Books hold extra stress"? Who would have thought that reading books could become a requirement for making paper? Confucius certainly had not mentioned that.
The Li family closed their door, dinner turning into a discussion on how these new regulations would change their lives.
---
Meanwhile, in the Chengdu Government Office.
Zhuge Liang placed three blocks of refined sugar on the desk. One was dark brown, another reddish, while the last gleamed almost translucent beneath the afternoon light. The three pieces knocked softly against the wood as they came to rest.
Liu Shan's eyes immediately locked onto them. He reached for the largest, clearest piece, but Zhuge Liang's sleeve casually drifted over, blocking his hand.
"Adou," Zhuge Liang said, his voice smooth and entirely too calm. "Before you eat, tell me. What is the difference between these pieces?"
Liu Shan pouted, pulling his hand back. He recognized that tone. Every time Teacher Zhuge spoke that gently, it meant the lesson would be longer than the snack.
He leaned in, inspecting the blocks like a jeweler examining flawed jade. "Well... this one is dark. This one is reddish. And this one is clear, but the last one looks like it fell in the mud."
"Excellent observation," Zhuge Liang nodded, steepling his fingers. "Now, all of these were produced in the Chengdu refineries this very week. Why do they look so different?"
Liu Shan squinted. "Maybe the sugarcane was different? The ones from the south are sweeter."
Zhuge Liang smiled faintly. "If the sugarcane was sweeter, would it make the sugar cloudy? Or just sweeter?"
Liu Shan paused, scratching his head. "Hmm... then maybe the size of the refinery? The West Market one is huge. They must have better pots, right?"
"The West Market refinery is indeed twice the size of the South Market one," Zhuge Liang agreed smoothly. "Yet the West Market sugar is the cloudiest of the batch. Tell me, Adou, does a larger pot change the nature of the water inside, or does it merely hold more of it?"
Liu Shan looked at the sugar, then at his teacher, his face scrunching up as he thought.
"So... the pots and the cane are the same," he said slowly. "Which means the only thing different is..."
He looked up, practically bouncing in his seat. "Oh! Oh! I know! Someone did it wrong!"
"Precisely." Zhuge Liang nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. "The refining method in Chengdu is strictly standardized. The equipment is identical. The sugarcane is of equal quality, and the water comes from the same Min River. The resulting sugar should be identical. So where is the flaw?"
"In the people," Liu Shan said confidently.
"Correct. The syrup must be boiled for four hours, with water added at regular intervals. It is dull work, back-breaking work. So, what does a tired man do?"
Liu Shan grimaced, imagining the sweltering heat of the refinery. "He gets lazy. He boils it for less time, and adds the water all at once later."
"He assumes no one will notice a few saved minutes," Zhuge Liang finished softly. "Men may overlook small shortcuts. Sugar never does."
Liu Shan sat up straighter, the playfulness fading from his face. He gave a formal bow.
"A small mistake at the start becomes a big problem at the end," he said quietly. "I understand, Teacher. A gentleman must be careful from the very beginning."
Zhuge Liang nodded, but he was not done. He leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting from teacher to examiner. "Very good. Now, Adou. These workers ruined a batch of state sugar through their laziness. How should we punish them?"
Liu Shan froze. He glanced nervously at Zhuge Liang, then shifted his eyes to his father. Liu Bei was sitting quietly to the side, sipping his tea, offering absolutely no help. He was entirely on his own.
Liu Shan swallowed hard. He thought about the sweltering heat of the refinery he had seen with his own eyes. He thought about the tired workers.
"I think..." Liu Shan started carefully, "we should not punish them."
Zhuge Liang's expression did not change. "Oh? Explain."
Liu Shan frowned, thinking hard.
"If we beat them, they will just be scared," he said. "They will hide their shortcuts better. And they already work in that heat all day. That is one."
He took a breath.
"Second, they did not know their shortcuts would ruin everything. They did not mean to, Teacher. They just did not know. So we should teach them, not punish them. Show them how their shortcuts messed up the sugar. If they understand, they will care. If we just hit them, they will only care about the whip."
He finished his speech and looked up at Zhuge Liang, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.
Zhuge Liang exchanged a long, meaningful glance with Liu Bei. A faint smile broke across Liu Bei's face.
"Adou," Liu Bei said, his voice warm. "Pick two pieces of sugar and go play."
Liu Shan's expression dropped. He looked at the tray, then at his father. "Can I not take them all?"
The faint smile on Liu Bei's face vanished instantly. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Taking the hint, Liu Shan quickly snatched the two best-looking blocks, bowed hastily, and bolted out of the room before his father could change his mind.
Zhuge Liang finally chuckled, shaking his head as the sound of the boy's footsteps faded. Liu Bei sighed, looking both exasperated and deeply amused.
Once the laughter died down, Zhuge Liang's expression turned serious, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the desk.
"This is exactly why our craftsmen need to be literate, my Lord."
Liu Bei set his teacup down, understanding immediately. He nodded slowly. "Adou is right. Craftsmanship cannot rely solely on oral tradition and memory. Errors are inevitable when knowledge is only spoken. In peaceful times, this is a mere waste of coin. But in chaotic times, when master craftsmen die in ditches and their skills are lost forever? That is a tragedy we cannot afford."
Zhuge Liang nodded. The chaos was not yet over, and he shared his lord's deep concern.
"In that case," Liu Bei said, pivoting to the next item on the agenda. "We should reward the students from the Taixuan Academy who voluntarily teach literacy to the commoners. This comforts the people, elevates the workshops, and helps the students support their families."
"That is correct," Zhuge Liang agreed. He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "And... Zi Qiao mentioned that a boy named Hu Du from the Taixuan Academy is quite outstanding."
"Although he has not yet come of age, Zi Qiao says he speaks confidently during lessons and shows no weakness when challenged. A truly talented young man."
Hearing this, Liu Bei's eyes lit up. "If that is true, I will meet his grandfather tomorrow. I must praise him in person."
Hu Du's grandfather lived modestly but strictly adhered to rituals and morals. He had the demeanor of a true gentleman, and Liu Bei admired him greatly. Previously, Liu Bei had only heard that the boy was doing well in school. Now, hearing about his character and sharp mind, he genuinely felt happy for the old man.
He also began to consider the future. In two years, when Hu Du was older, he could just give the boy a position in the government office. In these chaotic times, there was no need to wait for a talent to come of age before appointing him. Was not the Marquis Huo Qubing a prime example of youth serving the state?
Having finalized the plans for the Yizhou workshops, Liu Bei glanced at the empty seat beside him. The lingering scent of sugar and the echo of his son's laughter faded, replaced by a sudden longing.
"I wonder how Zilong is doing?"
---
Meanwhile, Zhao Yun had no time to spare for thoughts of his lord. His entire world had narrowed down to the wild horse thrashing beneath him.
The horse reared violently, its hind legs striking high enough to shatter bone as it fought with every ounce of its strength to throw the rider.
The effort was entirely wasted.
Even without a saddle, Zhao Yun sat anchored to the beast. Instead of wrestling against its frantic twists, he moved with them, matching its rhythm perfectly until the horse's explosive energy began to bleed away. After several more minutes of desperate bucking, the horse finally slowed, its nostrils flared as it breathed hard.
Zhao Yun leaned forward, gently stroking its sweat-soaked neck and working his fingers through the tangled mane, soothing the furious beast as if it were merely an old, cranky companion.
Watching from the sidelines, Zhang Fei folded his arms across his chest.
"So, that is all there is to it?" he asked.
One of Zhao Yun's veteran guards chuckled. "Do not let it fool you, General. The beast is just catching its breath."
Ever since returning to the northern frontier, Zhao Yun's personal guards had grown noticeably more relaxed. Seeing Zhang Fei's skeptical look, the guard grinned and offered some northern wisdom.
"You cannot break a truly wild horse in a single ride. You spend half the day riding it bareback until it is ready to drop, then you do the exact same thing tomorrow. Eventually, one of you decides the fight just is not worth it anymore."
As if determined to prove his point, the wild horse suddenly exploded back into motion. It twisted and kicked with renewed fury, sending thick clouds of dust billowing across the training ground.
Zhang Fei let out a low whistle. Looking from the crazed horse to Zhao Yun, who remained perfectly balanced without a saddle in sight, he burst into loud laughter.
"Ah! Now I understand why Zilong always wears three layers of trousers whenever he breaks horses!"
The surrounding soldiers erupted into roars of laughter.
A gray-haired cavalry veteran slapped his thigh, eager to add his own tale. "That reminds me of a poor bastard we met in Liaodong. Barely tall enough to reach the stirrup, yet he insisted on taming a dragon-class horse. The beast threw him around so badly that his testicles burst. Poor bastard ended up childless."
The laughter grew even louder, but Zhang Fei knew exactly what the veteran meant. According to the Rites of Zhou, a horse standing eight chi tall was classified as a Long, a dragon-class horse. Looking back at the savage blue stallion, his grin faded into concern.
"Will Zilong be alright?" he asked.
The guard only laughed harder. "Rest assured, General. Our commander has not even broken a sweat yet."
Almost as he spoke, Zhao Yun finally changed his approach.
His shoulders dropped, his thighs locked against the horse's flanks like a vice, and his entire body began to move with flawless precision. Instead of resisting the stallion's violent lunges, he redirected them, using the animal's own momentum against it. Every time the horse struggled, Zhao Yun shifted his weight a fraction of a second early, forcing the beast to burn through its last reserves of strength.
The horse let out a long, mournful whinny.
The brutal contest continued for another half hour before its legs finally began to tremble. Its head slowly lowered, its breath came in ragged gasps, and at last, it stood perfectly still.
It had accepted defeat.
Zhang Fei released a breath he had not realized he was holding. No wonder the struggle had lasted so long. Out of the hundred-odd wild horses Han Sui had captured near Qinghai, this crazy horse was the undisputed king of the herd and easily the most ill-tempered.
Of course, Han Sui had not sent such magnificent beasts out of the goodness of his heart.
Liangzhou's winters were merciless. Without the grain, coal, sugar, and steel arriving from Liu Bei's territories, Han Sui's soldiers would freeze before the season ended. The old warlord desperately needed supplies, while Shu wanted top-tier cavalry mounts. For the moment, both sides were getting exactly what they wanted.
A short distance away, safely out of the cheering crowd and the swirling dust, Pang Tong stood in the shade beside Cheng Gongying, quietly observing the scene.
"I gave my word to Han Wenyue," Pang Tong said, his tone even. "I have no intention of breaking it."
With Hanzhong secured and Chengdu stabilized after more than a year of preparation, Shu's granaries were practically bursting. Trading surplus grain for excellent warhorses was a steal, and Pang Tong knew it.
Even so, a nagging concern refused to leave him alone. He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"But tell me, are you truly content to leave Yan Xing unchecked?"
That was the real danger.
Sending supplies to Han Sui posed little risk. The old warlord was advanced in years, and his heir lacked both talent and authority. Given enough time, Liangzhou would naturally rot from the inside out.
Yan Xing was an entirely different beast.
The man had ambition, martial prowess, and zero interest in hiding either. If he decided to oust Han Sui, seize control of the Liangzhou army, and pledge himself to Cao Cao, Shu would suddenly wake up to a nightmare on its northwestern frontier.
Cheng Gongying answered without a trace of concern.
"Our lord believes that lasting stability begins by winning the hearts of men." He watched Zhao Yun gently pat the now-subdued stallion before continuing. "Last month, he married his daughter to Yan Xing and entrusted him with considerable authority."
For a heartbeat, Pang Tong simply stared at him.
The color drained from his face.
"Han Wenyue is old," Pang Tong said slowly, staring at Cheng Gongying like he had just grown a second head. "And he gave his own daughter to the man who might one day swallow his army?"