Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

In the cold twelfth month of winter, the biting winds were like sharp knives, wantonly slicing at everything in the world. The sky was gloomy, with thick, leaden clouds that seemed poised to descend at any moment, completely enveloping the earth in an oppressive atmosphere.

With mixed feelings, the group slowly arrived at Lu Zhi's grave. The tomb was built with extraordinary solemnity, its surrounding headstones meticulously carved from the finest stone. The inscriptions on the tombstones were delicate and clear, as if silently telling of the tomb owner's past glory and extraordinary achievements. The land surrounding the tomb was perfectly leveled, and the snow, like a thick silver blanket, gently covered it. Only a few wisps of dry grass, slightly yellowed by the cold wind, occasionally peeked out from the corners, appearing particularly lonely and desolate in this silvery world.

This clearly demonstrates the emperor's appreciation for Lu Zhi's profound knowledge. Lu Zhi, a man of profound learning and noble character, left a stellar reputation throughout his life. Despite his last words, he repeatedly requested a simple life, but how could the emperor easily pass up this golden opportunity to demonstrate his generosity and favor to such a loyal man?

Furthermore, Lu Zhi's several most distinguished disciples all held high positions of power in the imperial court, and the emperor was desperate to win them over. His esteem for their master undoubtedly served as a moral high ground, exerting an invisible pressure on the others. It was as if he were silently warning everyone: Look, I respect your master so much, and treat him so well. If you don't serve me wholeheartedly and wholeheartedly, wouldn't you be insulting the integrity of your master? You would be ungrateful!

A cold wind blew, carrying a few snowflakes swirling in the air, as if in front of the tomb, it was sighing softly for the complicated situation and Lu Zhi's posthumous affairs.

Logically speaking, the emperor should be the first to perform the worship ceremony in front of the solemn and dignified tomb of Lu Zhi.

The emperor had clearly made thorough preparations for today. He had changed into a plain robe, his expression solemn and sorrowful. When the ceremony began, he slowly unfolded the prepared sacrificial text and began to recite it. His voice was restrained at first, but as the text progressed, the emperor gradually began to tear up.

He rambled on about his past with Lu Zhi. He spoke of how they had shared hardships together, how in those turbulent days, Lu Zhi had always stood steadfastly by the emperor's side, relying on his wisdom and talent to offer advice and resolve crises time and again. Without Lu Zhi's dedicated support, how could the current seemingly stable situation have come to be?

The emperor's words were filled with regret. He lamented how Lu Zhi had toiled his entire life, yet died so young before he could truly enjoy a peaceful life. It was truly heartbreaking. He wiped his tears with his sleeve as he spoke, looking as if he had lost a loved one he relied on the most. A cold wind blew, gently fluttering the emperor's clothes, but it couldn't dispel the deep feeling of remembrance at the tomb. It was as if even the icy air was tinged with a touch of sorrow by the emperor's heartfelt words.

The coldness of winter spread wantonly, and the atmosphere in front of Lu Zhi's tomb was solemn and sad.

Ma Chao's eyes glistened with tears, swirling in his sockets, yet he fought hard to suppress them, unwilling to let them slip. He simply gripped the sword tightly, his fingers turning pale from the effort of gripping the hilt, the knuckles bulging. Past memories of his time with his master resurfaced in his mind, those days spent together studying literature and martial arts, listening to his teachings, as if only yesterday. Yet, over the years, he knew he hadn't lived up to his master's expectations. His master's selfless devotion to the Han Dynasty was truly admirable, but how could he not also think about the future of Xiliang? The fate of Xiliang, the future of his people, weighed heavily on his mind, a lump in his throat. He could only stubbornly purse his lips and swallow the words that filled his heart.

Liu Bei, standing beside him, was already in tears. Tears streamed down his cheeks, soaking his white robe and leaving a large patch on the front. Generals Guan Yu and Zhang Fei also wore solemn expressions and remained silent. Only their clenched fists and slightly trembling bodies betrayed the turmoil in their hearts.

After the emperor finished his worship, Gongsun Zan, who was following closely behind him, had a slightly solemn expression, but his eyes were secretly observing his two fellow apprentices. When the emperor finished his worship, Gongsun Zan seemed to have changed into a different person, and burst into tears like a country bumpkin. He hurried to his master's tombstone, fell to his knees with a "thump", and sobbed bitterly. While wiping his master's tombstone with his robe, he kept mumbling:

"Oh, Master, Master, you've devoted your entire life to the Han Dynasty and to justice. You've truly dedicated yourself! I've kept in mind all your teachings: to prioritize the country, to be loyal to the emperor and patriotic! But some people, huh, I don't know what they're thinking. They're not even a bit as selfless as you, Master! Your expectations of us have been thrown to the winds by some! Although I was incredibly busy with the war in the court and didn't make it to your funeral, and people gossiped about me, I've always thought of you in my heart! Today, I'm going to cry my heart out, to show everyone that I truly take your words seriously and respect your teachings! Unlike some people, who have their own agenda and aren't afraid to upset your spirit in heaven! I'm crying not only because I truly remember your kindness, but also to let others know what it means to be a truly good disciple of yours, and what proper conduct is!"

The cold winter is still raging mercilessly, and this scene in front of Lu Zhi's tomb really makes people feel a lot of emotion.

Liu Bei watched Gongsun Zan's exaggerated performance in astonishment, his heart filled with disbelief. Was this still the senior brother he had always looked up to as a role model? In his memory, Gongsun Zan came from a noble family. When facing foreign invasions, he was the awe-inspiring General Bai Ma, single-handedly defending the dignity of the border. Who wouldn't mention him as a good man? But now, how could he have become like this, as petty as a woman, with none of his former broad-mindedness left?

Liu Bei knew full well that Gongsun Zan was indirectly criticizing Ma Chao. He sighed helplessly. The situation in the world was so difficult. The local princes were disobeying the imperial will, pretending to obey but secretly acting independently. The three of them should have been a formidable force. If they had joined forces, the force they commanded would have been enough to overturn and change the fate of the Han Dynasty, fulfilling their master's wish and serving the country together.

But Master Brother Gongsun Zan was so absurd. Wasn't it obvious that he had come to court to counter Ma Chao? Then he thought of Ma Chao, the junior brother whom Master had placed such high hopes on. He had always been an upright gentleman, but after Master's passing, something was really wrong. He seemed to have no regard for His Majesty at all, and there was a hint of contempt for imperial authority. Even in his grief, this was not the way to go.

Liu Bei watched Ma Chao, fuming with anger at Gongsun Zan's exaggerated performance, and an urge to speak up surged within him. He took a step forward, but after taking a step, he paused, ultimately letting out a deep sigh. His three brothers were now the emperor's trusted pillars of support, yet he was the weakest among them. Furthermore, he had once served under Gongsun Zan. Even if he spoke now, how much would they listen? This complex situation, like this cold winter day, felt overwhelmingly oppressive, yet he couldn't find a way out.

Gongsun Zan finished his offerings in tears, his expression a bit exaggerated, but everyone else knew his subtle thoughts. Then, Liu Bei slowly stepped forward to pay his respects. His expression was solemn, and he silently bowed before his master's grave, not saying much like Gongsun Zan.

Liu Bei knew clearly that the conflict between the two brothers was not something he could easily mediate. It involved not only personal grudges, but also the interests and positions of all parties involved.

After the worship, Liu Bei looked deeply at the emperor. He knew very well that the emperor had definitely planned the scene in front of the tomb today. Thinking of this, Liu Bei was filled with helplessness.

The emperor was young, capable, and exceptionally intelligent, a blessing for the Han Dynasty. Unfortunately, he was overly fond of playing the game of balancing power, constantly seeking to manipulate the world. This mentality was deeply disapproved of by Liu Bei, who always upheld a principle of moderation and peace.

After all, if one relied solely on such tactics, relying on manipulating dissenting factions to maintain stability, how could one truly revive the Han Dynasty? A single misstep could lead to irreparable destruction. Furthermore, as the Son of Heaven, one should act with integrity. Those who have made contributions should be generously rewarded, thereby earning their loyalty and ensuring their sincere service to the court, rather than relying on such balancing tactics to suppress various factions.

You have to remember that the empire was still in turmoil, internal disharmony, and conflicting factions. How could such a policy of manipulation alone achieve great things and restore the Han Dynasty to its former glory? This complex situation truly worried Liu Bei.

Now it was Ma Chao's turn to pay his respects. He kowtowed with a solemn and dignified expression, refraining from idle chatter or questioning the turmoil. In his heart, respect and remembrance for his master were not just words, but actions already in place.

At this moment, he was focused on one crucial matter: the emperor must establish Lu Wan as his empress. He felt that if this were to happen, it would be a closure for his master and his unwavering love for Lu Wan. From then on, he would follow his master's instructions and diligently serve the court without damaging Xiliang's foundation.

Ma Chao's mindset had actually shifted. Back then, the Emperor's forced marriage to Lu Wan had been incredibly difficult for Ma Chao to accept. While he didn't know the exact details of the operation, he had deep faith in Lu Wan's character, knowing she wouldn't settle for wealth and fame. His master had acquiesced to this arrangement, claiming it was for the sake of the Han, yet even his own daughter's happiness was being sacrificed. Ma Chao couldn't help but wonder, wasn't his master's loyalty excessive? This complex situation and all the memories of the past weighed heavily on Ma Chao's mind, leaving him consumed with conflict.