Reborn In The Three Kingdoms

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Lie Fan’s eyes lit with approval, and he gave a single, decisive nod. ”If Elder Chen has found Sima Fu worthy, then I need no further persuasion. Train him. Groom him as you see fit. You have full authority to prepare him as your successor. When the time comes, I will see him confirmed as Governor of Xiapi.”

A visible wave of relief washed over Chen Gui’s features. The burden of choosing his successor, a decision that would echo for generations in the prosperity of the province, had been lifted and validated by the emperor himself.

”Your Majesty honors both me and my judgment. I am deeply grateful. You ease my worries for Xiapi, and you give meaning to the last of my service. I shall devote what remains of my strength to shaping him into a pillar worthy of this dynasty. It lifts a great weight from my heart.”

Lie Fan’s smile was gentle, but his tone carried authority. ”It is I who should thank you, Elder Chen. Few men think not only of their own withdrawal, but also of the path they leave behind. You have always been such a man.”

The two sat in silence for a brief, respectful moment before Lie Fan rose to his feet.

”Our business here is concluded,” Lie Fan said. ”But before I go, I will say this, when your successor is ready, I will host a banquet in the palace to commemorate your retirement from the daily burdens of office. It will not be a farewell, for I will still call upon your wisdom, but it shall be a celebration of your service.”

Chen Gui’s eyes widened, tears glimmering at the edges. He bowed deeply once more. ”Your Majesty would go so far for me? This old servant is... unworthy of such kindness.”

Lie Fan chuckled softly, shaking his head. ”Nonsense. You are more than worthy. And I will have Chen Deng return from his duties early, so that he may stand at your side for this banquet. A father and son should share such a moment. You have given much to Xiapi, you shall not depart quietly into the shadows. Your name will be remembered.”

Chen Gui’s eyes shone, and his voice trembled as he replied. ”Your Majesty thinks of even this? You grant me blessings greater than I deserve. To retire with honor, to be celebrated by my sovereign, and to embrace my son once more at such a time... I am unworthy of such kindness. Truly, Heaven has blessed me.”

Lie Fan shook his head, his expression soft but unyielding. ”You are more than worthy, Elder Chen. This is but a small token of what you have earned. Prepare your successor, and I will see the rest done.”

Chen Gui bowed low, his gratitude expressed not in more words, but in the depth of his gesture.

Lie Fan smiled faintly and turned toward the door. Outside, his two Yellow Ghost bodyguards, statuesque in their golden masks, straightened immediately as their Emperor emerged. They fell into step behind him as he left the Governor’s Castle.

Once more, Lie Fan mounted his horse, the Yellow Ghosts following. With a nudge of his heels, he set off at a steady pace back toward the palace.

The city of Xiapi unfolded before him as the afternoon sun slanted low. Children’s laughter carried faintly from alleyways, merchants continued their calls, and soldiers drilled in the courtyards. Yet Lie Fan’s mind was not on the bustle of the city.

It was on the weight of time.

Chen Gui’s request for retirement had stirred something deeper in him. Not a thought of his own retirement, that, Heaven willing, was far away, but the inevitability of age among those who now stood beside him.

Men like Jia Xu, whose mind was still sharp as a blade but whose body had begun to carry the weight of years. Men like Cai Yong, venerable scholar and tutor to generations, whose wisdom was unmatched but whose hair had grown as white as snow. Huang Zhong, the old vigor but grey haired general, who’s strength and mind was one oft he best in the land currently.

How long would it be before they, too, asked for leave to set down their burdens?

And beyond them, others, loyal ministers, commanders, administrators. Some still in their prime, but many approaching the twilight of their service. One by one, they would inevitably seek rest, and with them would go decades of experience, of loyalty, of hard-earned wisdom.

Lie Fan knew the truth, no matter how mighty his dynasty grew, it would not endure if it rested only on the shoulders of the present generation. He needed to plant the seeds of the next, and the next after that.

Long after his own reign ended, when his son, Lie Muchen, would ascend the Dragon Throne. The world must not falter when the old guard passed away.

Fortunately, Heaven had been kind. Already he had gathered around him some of the brightest talents of this age. He thought of Zhuge Liang, Sima Yi, Xu Shu, Pang Tong, Lu Xun, Lu Su, brilliant men still young enough to shape decades of service. They were jewels in his crown, and he trusted them deeply. Yet even they could not bear the future of the Hengyuan Dynasty alone.

”No,” he thought grimly as the palace walls came into view. ”It is not enough. A tree must have many roots if it is to weather storms. I must ensure not only the present brilliance of my court, but its future. The next generation of great men must already be sought, trained, and given purpose.”

Names came to him unbidden, drawn from his past life’s knowledge, those who in the original timeline had risen to prominence after this era. Talents who, if recruited early, could be shaped into pillars of Hengyuan’s future.

Jiang Wei. Fierce, brilliant, but also tragically entangled in ambition. Could he be guided here into a different fate?

Deng Ai. A general of unmatched ingenuity, whose campaigns would shake empires.

Zhong Hui. A man of sharp talent, though consumed by pride and ambition. If found and guided early, could his flaws be tempered into strength?

Zhuge Dan. Another destined to play his role in turbulent times, capable and bold.

And many others, names and faces flickering like sparks in his memory.

The Emperor of Hengyuan tightened his grip on the reins, his jaw firm. He would not wait for Heaven to scatter these men as chance decreed. He would seek them, recruit them, nurture them. In his reign, and more importantly, in the reign of his son to come, these men would serve not chaos but stability.

The horse beneath him snorted, the palace looming ever closer. Behind his calm gaze, Lie Fan’s thoughts blazed with determination.

As he rode beneath the palace gates, the banners of Hengyuan snapping in the wind, Lie Fan’s jaw tightened. The banquet for Chen Gui would be the first step, a ceremonial marker of transition.

But beyond it lay a greater project, the cultivation of a dynasty not just for his reign, but for his son’s, and his son’s sons. A dynasty that would not crumble with the passing of one generation, but endure like the mountains.

And in his heart, as the hooves of his horse struck the stone courtyard of the palace, Lie Fan made a silent vow. The old would be honored, the new would be trained, and Hengyuan would never lack for pillars to uphold it.

The banners of Hengyuan still fluttered in Lie Fan’s mind when his thoughts drifted outward, carried by the tides of his vision for the dynasty. Far to the northeast, across the sea winds that swept the peninsula and beyond, another story was unfolding, one that would tie itself to the destiny of his empire, though it began with quiet words under a pavilion on the island of Jeju-Do.

It was there that Li Wei, the sharp eyed man, sat with the poise of a man who knew victory was within his grasp. Before him, under the gently creaking beams of the temporary pavilion his men had constructed, sat Lord Kaito of Yamatai.

The two men, though worlds apart in culture and upbringing, had grown used to facing one another across polished wooden tables in these tense but essential gatherings.

Li Wei had arrived first, as always, bringing with him the confidence of Goguryeo’s backing and the subtle weight of the fictitious ”Mongolia Kingdom” he had crafted as a tool of diplomacy.

His right hand in these matters, Han Meyong, knelt at his side, the man’s calm face betraying none of the subtle calculations whirring behind his eyes. Han, fluent in both the tongue of Silla and the nuanced phrasing that Li Wei required, was his bridge to these negotiations. Without him, the delicate dance of language might crumble into misunderstanding and mistrust.

Lord Kaito, however, had changed something significant. Where once Jin, the cunning and silver tongues translator who straddled both Yamatai and Silla language like a man born to both, had stood, there now knelt a new face.

This man was unmistakably Yamatai born, his posture upright, his robes marked with the crest of his station, and his tongue far less polished in Silla’s lilting cadences. The substitution did not go unnoticed.

Li Wei’s eyes, sharp as a falcon’s, flicked briefly over the man, then back to Lord Kaito. He had known Jin to be Lord Kaito’s permanent shadow in these meetings, a fixture as steady as the tides. To see him replaced was to see a great stone pulled from the foundation of a bridge. Something had shifted.

At once, possibilities bloomed in Li Wei’s mind. Had Jin fallen from grace, deemed unfit for this crucial mission due to the sudden changes? Had he been punished for some unseen slight?

Or had Yamatai’s priorities themselves twisted, pulling away from their earlier position, when they had pressed Silla’s claims and attempted to dominate the tone of these talks? Whatever the truth, the sudden absence of Jin was telling.

Li Wei’s lips curved, just barely, in the faintest of smiles. A pleased expression that flitted across his face like a shadow of sunlight through clouds. It was gone in an instant, replaced by the calm neutrality of a practiced negotiator. But Lord Kaito saw it.

The Yamatai envoy’s gaze lingered, measuring. He was no fool. That slight smile had betrayed Li Wei’s thoughts, that he believed this change marked a weakening of Yamatai’s position, that Goguryeo and it’s fictious Mongolian ally now held the stronger cards. And in truth, they did from the start after all.

Lord Kaito shifted slightly, straightening his robes, his fingers brushing the wooden table before him. The sea breeze carried with it the scent of salt and pine, but here in the pavilion, the air was heavy with unspoken truths.

He cleared his throat deliberately, his voice calm but edged with intent. ”Today,” he began, speaking in his native tongue, the new translator echoing his words into halting Silla for Li Wei and Han Meyong, ”I come bearing gifts. A list of them, prepared with care. They are offered in return for the generosity shown at our last meeting.”

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Name: Lie Fan

Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty

Age: 35 (202 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 2325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 966 (+20)

VIT: 623 (+20)

AGI: 623 (+10)

INT: 667

CHR: 98

WIS: 549

WILL: 432

ATR Points: 0