Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The conference room was as silent as a grave, the only sound being the soft patter of candle wax dripping to the ground. Liu Zhang, his eyes wide with anger, threw the bamboo slips from the table to the ground, sending flying debris brushing Fei Yi's ears.

Fei Yi coughed lightly, tapping his folding fan against his palm to break the deadlock: "My lord, calm down. Although Zhang Song has been driven away, Xiliang is still a powerful force, and we must be on guard." Huang Quan stroked his beard and continued, unfolding a sheepskin map, his fingertips tracing the border between Hanzhong and Yizhou: "Ma Chao occupies Chang'an and covets the world, and Zhang Lu is secretly communicating with Xiliang. If our army acts rashly, we may become a target of public criticism."

Liu Zhang's throat churned, his previous fury turning into a deep sigh. He slumped back to his seat, the hem of his brocade robe sweeping across the mess on the floor. "In a situation like this, what can you all teach me?"

The hall fell silent for a moment. In the corner, the great scholar Qiao Zhou slowly rose. His voice drifted from the depths of time: "In the past, when the late emperor was still alive, the emperor's majesty still frightened the world. Now the world has turned upside down, Xiliang has become a powerful force, and Ma Chao is unrivaled..." He looked north: "Zhang Lu has always been indecisive. Rather than waiting for him to side with Ma Chao, why not send an envoy to establish a friendly relationship with him? Only by building good relations and delaying the war can we save Yizhou."

The night wind suddenly rushed into the hall. As the candlelight flickered, the shadows of the people on the wall twisted like ghosts, adding a bit of bleakness to the obscure situation.

----

Zhang Lu paced the mansion daily, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Western Liang envoys. Welcoming them had become Hanzhong's top priority. He kept asking Yang Song about the progress, but Yang Song always calmly reassured him, "Don't worry, my lord. Wait a little longer. Steady our position is the key."

That day, before Zhang Lu could even open his mouth to ask, Yang Bai rushed in in a panic, shouting, "My Lord! My Lord! The Xiliang envoy has arrived!" Zhang Lu's heart suddenly tightened, and he immediately ordered, "Quick! Quickly tidy up your appearance! Have the musicians play music and roll out the red carpet. We must solemnly welcome the envoy from this great country!"

Before he finished speaking, he turned to Yang Song in panic and asked, "Should I wear the prefect's robe or the Taoist priest's robe?" Yang Song's eyes were determined, and he immediately offered a suggestion: "My lord, in my opinion, the Taoist priest's robe is more suitable. This will not only show our otherworldly spirit, but also show that we only seek to protect ourselves and have no intention of getting involved in the disputes between the princes." Zhang Lu nodded suddenly: "That's right!" He hurriedly took off the prefect's robe that he was half wearing and solemnly changed into the Taoist priest's robe.

Surrounded by Yang Song and Yang Bai, Zhang Lu led a group of Hanzhong officials to greet them quickly. His robe fluttered, unable to conceal his complex emotions of nervousness and anticipation.

Zhang Lu, leading a group of Hanzhong officials, stood by the official road outside the city. The sun had already reached its zenith, burning their backs beneath their robes. Smoke and dust rose faintly in the distance, and everyone held their breath, gazing toward the horizon.

The musicians immediately struck up elegant string music, the melodious tunes mingling with the chirping of cicadas, reverberating in the parched air. As the smoke and dust gradually cleared, Zhang Lu's heart sank at the sight of the slowly approaching troops. The Xiliang delegation, supposedly a force of war, consisted of only a handful of cavalry, mostly infantry, and, judging by the situation, far fewer than 5000 men.

"Brother, this scene..." Yang Bai muttered, clutching the hilt of the sword at his waist. Zhang Song stood on tiptoe, squinting his eyes, looking at the fluttering blue-gray robes in front of him, his Adam's apple rolling suddenly: "My lord! That dress... doesn't look like the Xiliang style!"

The music grew increasingly tumultuous, and Zhang Lu waved his hand impatiently, bringing it to a sudden halt. He stared intently at the approaching troops, his dry lips pressed into a straight line. "Everyone, open your eyes and watch carefully! If you miss something important, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

When the troops were within a hundred paces, everyone finally saw the Shu brocade cloud patterns embroidered on the blue-gray clothes - they were clearly the attire of the Yizhou soldiers! At this moment, a horse galloped out from the team, and the knight shouted at the top of his voice: "I am a servant of Liu Zhang, the governor of Yizhou! This time, my master sent Fei Yi and Qiao Zhou as envoys to pay a visit to Zhang Tianshi, the prefect of Hanzhong!"

Zhang Lu's face flushed purple, his fists clenched in his sleeves, and he turned to leave. Seeing this, Yang Song hurriedly took a half step forward and said in a low voice: "My lord, wait a minute! The Yizhou delegation has seen our pomp and ceremony. Removing the ceremonial guard now would be tantamount to public humiliation. Xiliang may be strong, but Yizhou is not a good country either. If we become enemies..."

"Stupid!" Zhang Lu suddenly shook off Yang Song's hand, and the jade beads on his crown jingled. "If we treat Liu Zhang's envoy with the same standard as we would the Xiliang envoy today, how will Li Ru let it go if he finds out? If the Xiliang cavalry creates a rift, how can Hanzhong resist?" He looked at the Yizhou flag getting closer and closer, and the veins on his forehead throbbing. "Quickly remove the red carpet and stop the drums and music! Only ten people will follow me and pretend to be submissive. The rest of you will immediately retreat through the city gate!"

Before he had finished speaking, the vanguard of the Yizhou delegation had already approached. Sharp-eyed soldiers, catching sight of Zhang Lu's army of civil and military officers, immediately galloped back to report. Upon hearing this, Fei Yi and Qiao Zhou, fearing no delay, hastily abandoned their chariots, mounted their horses, and galloped forward.

Fei Yi's blue robe fluttered, his beard rustling in the wind as the governor of Jiaozhou abandoned their carriages and rode forward, their hooves pulverizing the golden light. Fei Yi dismounted before he even got close, his jade belt clanging against the stirrups. "Master Zhang! How could I possibly deserve your leading the Hanzhong officials to personally welcome me? Such a grand ceremony speaks volumes about your loyalty and righteousness! The rumors that you're colluding with Xiliang are sheer nonsense!"

Zhang Lu froze in place, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the dark patterns on his Taoist robe. The musicians remained stunned. Jiaozhou had already mounted his horse and tapped the ground with his bamboo staff. "In the past, Shang Jun moved a tree to establish trust. Today, the Master treats the Yizhou envoys with the courtesy of a hundred officials. Such sincerity should be recorded in the annals of history!"

Yang Song secretly tugged at the corner of his master's robe, a whisper escaping his throat: "How about... let the musicians continue playing first? Leaving the stage now would seem deliberate..." Zhang Lu looked at the smile in Fei Yi's eyes and suddenly felt that the Heavenly Master's robe was heavy. He took a deep breath, and transformed his anger into a polite hand raising to support him. His voice seemed to be squeezed from the deepest part of his chest: "Master Fei, you are too serious... This is all my responsibility..."

The sounds of the sheng and xiao rose again, but were inexplicably tinged with a glaring absurdity. Zhang Lu looked at the Shu brocade document slowly unfolding in Jiaozhou's hands, and vaguely saw Jia Xu's hawk-like eyes piercing the scorching sun, coldly observing this farce.

The moment they entered the city gates, Fei Yi and Qiao Zhou were stunned by the sight before them. The streets were paved with pristine scarlet silk, and golden tassels dangling from the eaves swayed gently in the wind. Even the door lintels of ordinary houses were adorned with cloud-patterned lanterns. Gilded Vermillion Bird lanterns lined the main street. Twenty-four imperial guards, armed with imperial seals, clad in black armor, the crimson cloud patterns on their robes threatening to leap forth in the candlelight. The spectacle was far beyond their imagination.

"Yizhou actually treated me with such respect!" Fei Yi's knuckles turned white, his voice full of disbelief, "Mr. Zhang's heart is with the Han Dynasty, I can't wait!" Qiao Zhou's beard trembled with excitement, and his fingers under his wide sleeves kept rubbing: "In the past, Mr. Zhang Daoling governed Hanzhong and taught the people the Five Pecks of Rice Sect. His benevolence spread far and wide. Now the prefect has been appointed by heaven, and this grand scene shows his sincerity!"

Zhang Lu, walking ahead, wore a calm demeanor. His wide crane cloak rustled softly across the bluestone slabs. The former leader of the Five Pecks of Rice Sect simply twirled his long beard, oblivious to the chatter of the two men behind him. Turning the corner, an even more stunning sight came into view—miles of crimson Shu brocade stretched from street level to alleyway end. Its gold-embroidered cloud-thunder patterns shimmered in the morning dew, tinting the entire city a crimson crimson.

"Such extravagance is unmatched even in the old capital of Chang'an!" Qiao Zhou gazed at the large banner with the Chinese character "Han" hanging high at the end of the brocade, his Adam's apple rolling as he swallowed back his amazement. Fei Yi gazed at the auspicious pictures and prophecies posted along the street, but noticed the fragments of the "Xiliang King's Carriage" painting that had not yet been cleared away in the corner, and a sudden doubt arose in his heart. As the corner of Zhang Lu's robe brushed against the brocade, it brought with it a faint scent of sandalwood, which was incompatible with the strong festive atmosphere in the city, as if he had already seen through the truth of this misunderstanding.

As dusk drifted over the eaves of the Tianshi Mansion, Zhang Lu stood before the alchemy furnace, listening to the tinkling of the bronze bells on the eaves, a cloud of unresolved worry between his brows. Footsteps echoed outside the courtyard, and the steward hurriedly reported that the Yizhou envoys had been relocated to the post station. He waved his hand, his robe sleeve sweeping across the pile of military reports on his desk, the edges of the sheepskin scrolls curling slightly, as if in a silent challenge.

Fei Yi and Qiao Zhou sat in the inn, their candlelight draining away. The magnificent spectacle of the ten-mile red brocade from the daytime was still vivid before their eyes, but now only the flickering candlelight cast their shadows on the mottled wall. "Mr. Zhang today..." Qiao Zhou hesitated, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the cracked desk. Fei Yi gazed out the window at the pitch-black night, remembering the gust of wind stirred by Zhang Lu's robe as he turned and left. A bitter taste welled up in his throat. "Perhaps there's something else going on." Before he could finish his words, the sound of the night drum shattered the silence, startling birds from the eaves and sending them fluttering past.

Inside the Tianshi Mansion, Zhang Lu stared at the map of Xiliang on the sand table on his desk, his Adam's apple heaving. The flickering candlelight cast a cold light on the deployment map of fifty thousand cavalrymen. Li Ru's name hung like a sharp sword over his head. The image of the man known as the "poisonous scholar who caused chaos in the country" lingered in his mind—in the past, under Dong Zhuo, Li Ru had sown disunity among the eighteen princes with a single plot; with a few subtle tactics, he had manipulated the world's most talented people at his will. Zhang Lu recalled Li Ru's reputation, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back. Not even the warmth rising from the alchemy furnace could dispel the chill. Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink. The distant sound of the night watchman's clapper echoed in the empty courtyard, each beat a pang on his tense nerves.

For days, the bronze bells on the eaves of the posthouse swung monotonously in the wind. Fei Yi and Qiao Zhou, clutching their visiting cards, waited daily at the Tianshi Mansion, only to receive Li Ru's excuse of being "busy." Qiao Zhou repeatedly stroked the returned business card, the edges already frayed. "Such etiquette is truly strange..." Fei Yi gazed at the tightly closed vermilion lacquer door, and suddenly caught sight of the corner of a dark garment glimpsed through the crack. How could this mean he didn't have time to come? It was clear he was filled with apprehension.

Inside the Tianshi Mansion, Zhang Lu's fingers, clutching the secret report, grew pale. The steam from the tea blurred the inscription before him: "The Western Liang envoy has arrived outside the South Gate." "Investigate again! Make sure it's the Western Liang envoy!" He slammed the table, shaking the bronze sparrow incense burner. Outside the window, dark clouds gathered over the city, and the faint rumble of thunder echoed with his turbulent emotions.

Within half an hour, scouts rode in and out three times. When the seventh scout, covered in mud, rushed in and confirmed that the Xiliang envoys were within five miles of the city, Zhang Lu's Adam's apple rolled violently, and he didn't even bother to straighten his crown, saying, "Hurry, prepare the horses! Instruct all officials to leave the city with a ceremony even higher than the one used to welcome the Yizhou envoys, the nine guests!" He grabbed the crane cloak, threw it over his shoulders, and ran out of the city.

Outside the city walls, a sudden gust of wind swept up, carrying uncleaned old lanterns into the air. Red silk skimmed across the bluestone floor, resembling a blood-red carpet laid out for the Xiliang envoys. Zhang Lu gripped the reins tightly, his nails digging into his palms—he knew better than anyone that any misstep in this reception would lead to disaster.