His steed sped over thousands of miles, the bright moon following behind, casting its light across the vast river. It was already the third day that Zhou Yu had spent rushing along the road. He’d bought the best horse money could buy, right on the banks of the river. As he traveled, he saw the common folk fleeing south with their families, in search of refuge. Even Jing Province was in the midst of chaos, and the round moon shone over uncountable people who had lost their families and their homes.
The sun rose, and night turned to day. Under the cruel heat of the sun, Zhou Yu suffered, drenched in hot sweat, his head spinning. He knew that at this point, if he didn’t rest, he would reach his limit. But he had finally arrived—he’d reached Mount Xian. He followed the river north, inquiring along the way, before finally finding the campgrounds of the Changsha troops. He first asked after Sun Ce’s status and learned that Sun Ce was fine, but Sun Jian had indeed lost his life, and now his generals were at odds.
Zhou Yu could finally set down the heavy stone in his heart.
The troops tried to stop him, but Zhou Yu handed over Sun Ce’s waist tally, and his way forward was unimpeded as he entered the military camp.
✦ ✦ ✦
Within a tent, a group of generals were shouting loudly enough for their voices to reach even the heavens: Cheng Pu, Huang Gai, Han Dang, Zhu Zhi, and Xu Kun were all screaming at each other, and Sun Ce was too, who looked as if he were at the end of his rope.
“At this time, in this moment,” Xu Kun raged, “we must not seek revenge! We have less than four thousand men, and the gates to Jiangxia City are tightly shut. How can it be sieged?”
“If we don’t go first and besiege the city,” Sun Ce replied, taking on the mantle of responsibility, “you think Huang Zu will just let us go?!”
Huang Gai exclaimed, “Sun Ce! This old man knows that because your father just died, you wish to use the grief of the troops to take what is owed you—Huang Zu’s life—but generals must not act impulsively. Tell me, how will you besiege the city?”
“If we don’t attack Jiangxia,” Zhu Zhi said, “Huang Zu will join forces with Cai Mao, cutting off our path of retreat. Even before we leave Jing Province, we will fall prey to their ambush.”
Sun Ce’s eyes were bloodshot from grief.
He said, “As of today, whether we advance or retreat, we will be caught between a rock and a hard place. We have already fought our way into the center of Jing Province. Old General Huang, don’t you know that as soon as we retreat, the entirety of Jing Province will group together to hem us in? The smaller cities we conquered on our way here will revolt. The two large cities, Jinyang and Jiangxia, will be even less willing to let us pass unchallenged.”
Cheng Pu replied, “With the predicament we are in, our only option is to write a letter to General Yuan and request he send troops to our aid.”
“Impossible!” Huang Gai roared. “If you all are hoping for him to act now, that will be the end of us! Sun Ce! If you can voice a scheme that gives us the upper hand, what harm is there if this old man goes with you to lose his life in Jiangxia?!”
Huang Gai’s temper was the most explosive, and he was also the oldest with the most experience. He stepped forward and grabbed Sun Ce’s collar, continuing, “Who doesn’t know how to get revenge! You think this old man and this group of generals are cowards, afraid of death?!”
“News, sir—Zhou Gongjin of Shu County is requesting to see the generals!”
The entire tent fell suddenly silent. Zhou Yu didn’t wait for them to speak before he walked in. Sun Ce stared at Zhou Yu in disbelief, as if he’d never imagined he would see him again.
Zhou Yu’s entire body was caked in dust, his martial robe smeared with dirt. His lower half was muddy, his hair loose and in disarray. A long sword was belted to his waist, and he was splattered with dried bloodstains.
Cheng Pu, Huang Gai, and the others had met Zhou Yu before, and the rest knew of him. After all, not too long ago he’d saved Sun Jian’s family from Yuan Shu’s manor, giving up his lofty official’s position and the hefty salary he commanded under the aristocratic, politically well-positioned Yuan family to follow Sun Ce.
Within the tent, no one spoke. Zhou Yu looked over the gathered group and nodded, his expression uneasy. He didn’t often interact with warriors, having been surrounded by scholars for most of his life. If he spoke too hastily, it would be all too easy to say the wrong thing.
In the end, he quietly said only three words.
He bowed slightly to Sun Ce.
“Greetings to Zhugong.”