Chapter 1: Taken In by Yin Ping at the Start
July, the thirteenth year of Jian’an.
Cao Cao, wielding the might of his conquest over Hebei, gathered an elite force of one hundred thousand, proclaiming it to be an army of eight hundred thousand strong.
He led his troops southward, his spearhead aimed directly at Jingzhou.
…
Within the northeastern mountain forests of Fancheng.
A young man, dressed in peculiar and exotic clothing, was stumbling and crawling through the rugged terrain.
“They wouldn’t even let me into the camp gates. Wasn’t it supposed to be ‘meritocracy above all’?”
“If you won’t take me in, at least give me a piece of clothing. Then I wouldn’t have to hide here in the wilderness, lost and starving to death…”
Xiao He, dizzy and weak from hunger, muttered complaints under his breath. Clinging to a shred of hope, he opened his backpack again, searching for any leftover crumbs of biscuit.
Just then, a startled elk suddenly burst out from behind him.
“Watch out!”
A woman’s warning rang out as a sharp arrow whistled past his ear.
The arrow struck the elk dead on.
Startled, Xiao He lost his footing, stumbled, and tumbled down the hillside.
“Thud!”
His head struck a stone.
Before his eyes closed, in a haze, he seemed to see a young woman clad in armor, mounted on a tall, magnificent horse, galloping toward him.
Darkness enveloped him, and he lost consciousness.
…
In Fancheng, within a side chamber of the government office courtyard.
Liu Bei and his advisors and generals gathered around a couch, where the young man in strange attire lay unconscious.
“Yinping, where did you bring this person from?” Liu Bei raised his head, casting a suspicious glance at the brightly armored young woman.
“My niece went hunting in the mountains early this morning. She was chasing an elk when this fellow suddenly appeared just as she was about to shoot,” Guan Yinping explained briskly.
“Luckily, I diverted the arrow just in time; it only grazed his body and didn’t kill him on the spot.”
“But he was so startled that he stepped on empty ground, hit his head on a rock, and lost consciousness.”
“Seeing he was quite strange, I brought him back.”
Listening to his niece’s account, Liu Bei and the others exchanged glances, their suspicion deepening.
They lowered their heads to examine the young man again.
His hair was short, and he bore no beard, looking somewhat like a prisoner who had been shaved bald as punishment.
Yet, he wore no prisoner’s garb. Instead, his clothing appeared extraordinarily strange, made from a fabric neither cloth, nor hemp, nor silk—an unheard-of material.
Such rare fabric—how could a mere criminal afford to wear it?
On the table lay a heap of peculiar objects, all taken from the man’s knapsack.
Flashlights, entrenching tools, thermos flasks, lighters… a jumble of unfamiliar items.
“Master Kongming, these items are truly strange. I have never seen the like in my life.”
Liu Bei looked toward the white-clad young man beside him holding a feather fan.
This gentleman was none other than the recently appointed military strategist, the Crouching Dragon, Zhuge Liang, whom Liu Bei had invited after thrice visiting his humble abode.
Zhuge Liang’s eyes widened as he examined the items carefully, but he wore a look of embarrassment.
“Forgive my ignorance. I do not recognize any of these objects.”
He shook his head awkwardly.
Liu Bei’s expression grew even more astonished.
If the Crouching Dragon, famed for his knowledge, had never seen such curiosities, then none of them, mere soldiers, could possibly understand.
“What on earth are these things?”
Beside him, Zhang Fei muttered, picking up a flashlight and scrutinizing it.
The cylindrical object seemed neither metal nor ceramic, with a circular, crystal-like transparent surface.
Squinting, Zhang Fei peered inside.
As he fiddled with it, he accidentally pressed a button.
A beam of light suddenly shone onto Zhang Fei’s face.
“Ah!”
Startled, Zhang Fei nearly dropped the cylinder.
Liu Bei, Zhuge Liang, and the Guan family watched in amazement, crowding around.
“This thing emits such light without fire?”
“Remarkable, truly remarkable!”
Zhuge Liang took it from Zhang Fei, turning it over and over, still unable to fathom its mechanism.
Accidentally pressing the button again, the light vanished.
Discovering the trick, he flicked the switch repeatedly, the beam flickering on and off as he murmured his admiration.
“What use could this have?”
Guan Yinping picked up the lighter from the table.
The group gathered closer.
Guan Yu squinted his phoenix eyes, inspecting the transparent device filled with liquid.
As they speculated, Guan Yinping accidentally pressed the ignition.
“Whoosh!”
A burst of flame shot out.
Guan Yu, too close, nearly set his famed beard ablaze, stepping back in alarm to check for damage.
Guan Yinping turned pale and threw down the lighter.
Her father prized his beard dearly; if even a few hairs were singed, he’d surely face a storm of scolding.
Fortunately, Guan Yu had dodged quickly and remained unscathed.
“What is this thing? How can it shoot fire?”
Though shaken, Guan Yu was annoyed.
Zhuge Liang picked up the lighter and imitated Guan Yinping, pressing it several times until it ignited.
“This tiny object can produce fire with a gentle press. Truly wondrous!”
He nodded repeatedly, marveling at it.
Guan Yinping, relieved her father’s beard was safe, looked back sternly at the man on the couch.
“Uncle, Father, this fellow’s origins are unknown, his attire strange, and the things he carries even stranger. Could he be a Yellow Turban sorcerer?”
Her suspicion instantly put Guan Yu and Zhang Fei on high alert.
Liu Bei, however, smiled dismissively.
“Yinping, do not jump to conclusions. The Yellow Turban Rebellion ended nearly twenty years ago. There are no more of their sorcerers now.”
Guan Yinping was speechless.
Zhang Fei scratched his head, eyes brightening.
“If not a Yellow Turban sorcerer, then could he be a reclusive immortal?”
“Are these strange objects some sort of celestial lanterns and divine fire used by immortals?”
Liu Bei was momentarily taken aback and could not refute the idea, so he glanced at Zhuge Liang.
The strategist pondered deeply before sighing.
“The sages only warned us to respect and keep our distance from ghosts and spirits, but never explicitly stated whether true immortals or demons exist in this world.”
“General Yide’s guess, I cannot answer.”
His implication was a noncommittal one—neither affirming nor denying.
Guan Yinping scoffed, unconvinced.
“Third Uncle, that’s nonsense. If he were truly an immortal, how could he be scared into unconsciousness by my arrow?”
This left Zhang Fei at a loss for words.
The group speculated endlessly but reached no conclusion.
Liu Bei waved his hand.
“This young man may appear strange, but we must not make rash assumptions.”
“Let him wake first, then we shall inquire about his identity.”
No sooner had he spoken than Xiao He on the couch suddenly sat up with a start.
He was awake.
Surveying his surroundings, he found himself in an ancient-style room.
Three middle-aged men, a handsome youth in white, and a spirited young woman in armor—all five gazed wide-eyed at him.
Swallowing nervously, Xiao He spoke in a timid voice.
“May I ask where this is, and how I came to be here?”
Liu Bei pointed to Guan Yinping.
“My niece said she startled you during a hunt in the mountains yesterday, causing you to fall and lose consciousness.”
“She brought you back to Fancheng just now.”
Xiao He touched the back of his head and gradually recalled the earlier events.
Indeed, before losing consciousness, he had seen a young woman dressed as a warrior.
It must have been this one beside him. On closer inspection, the girl was quite a charming beauty.
“I see.”
Xiao He composed himself and bowed somewhat awkwardly to Guan Yinping.
“Thank you, miss, for your rescue. May I ask your name, and the name of this general?”
Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang exchanged a glance.
Such refined manners and decorum suggested he was no bandit or brigand but likely a scholar.
“I am Liu Bei, Left General of Han. The one who saved you is my niece, Guan Yinping.”
“May I know your honorable name?”
Liu Bei lowered his guard, bowed politely, and introduced himself.
“Liu Xuande?”
Xiao He’s eyes suddenly widened.
Tall at eight feet, ears drooping to his shoulders, hands reaching past his knees...
Left General, Fancheng, niece Guan Yinping...
This man before him could only be the legendary Emperor Zhaolie of Han, Liu Bei.
“Fate…”