Chapter Sixty-Nine: Scheming Against Liu Bei

While Liu Yao was sizing up Liu Bei, Liu Bei, a bit dazed, glanced at both Liu Yao and Zhang Fei. A trace of resentment flashed through his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it. No one else noticed this, except for Liu Yao. Liu Yao detected it effortlessly—a familiar sensation welling up inside him. Suddenly, Liu Yao understood, thinking to himself, “No wonder this feels so familiar. Back in Zhuo County, I thought it was just my imagination. So it was you, Liu Bei.”

Indeed, that was the case. In those days, Liu Bei, a native of Zhuo County, had long known of a formidable warrior named Zhang Fei. He sought to befriend him, hoping to use his status as an imperial kinsman and his famed tears to persuade Zhang Fei to join him.

But unexpectedly, for reasons unknown, Liu Yao appeared first and befriended Zhang Fei ahead of Liu Bei. As a result, Liu Bei dared not approach Zhang Fei any longer. He held no official rank, had no wealth, and though his lineage as an imperial kinsman was precious, it was nothing compared to Liu Yao, the Crown Prince and a direct heir of the Han. Liu Bei dared not risk humiliation and could only watch as Zhang Fei followed Liu Yao.

Now, looking at Zhang Fei, he was already a general of the Han. Though only a general in name, it was still far more prestigious than Liu Bei’s own humble state. Bitterness welled up in his heart. Fortunately, Liu Bei still had his sworn brother, Guan Yu, whose prowess, he believed, was in no way inferior to Zhang Fei’s. This thought consoled him somewhat.

“Teacher,” Liu Bei and Guan Yu stepped forward and bowed to Lu Zhi.

Lu Zhi did not respond, merely waving his hand with tears in his eyes, his grief evident. To be honest, he did not much care for this disciple. Since childhood, Liu Bei had neglected his studies, preferring to idle away time with cats and dogs and associating with wandering swordsmen. In the end, he was neither accomplished in letters nor in arms, and possessed a scheming nature, which Lu Zhi greatly disliked. He preferred straightforward men like Gongsun Zan. Still, this disciple had come from afar with over a hundred followers to pay his respects; Lu Zhi could not simply turn him away and betray such filial devotion.

Only then did Liu Bei notice the urn in Lu Zhi’s hands and asked in confusion, “Teacher, may I ask what this is?”

Lu Zhi sighed heavily, his face full of sorrow. “This is your elder brother in learning, Gongsun Zan. He has fallen in battle.”

Liu Bei was stunned. He had never imagined Gongsun Zan would die; he had hoped to win merit by joining his army. Now all those hopes were dashed. Suddenly, as if remembering something, Liu Bei’s eyes reddened. He knelt, clutching the urn, and wailed, “Brother Bo Gui, how could you leave us like this? Have you forgotten our vow to quell the Yellow Turbans and serve the Han together...?”

Liu Yao watched the tears gush forth from Liu Bei, clicking his tongue in amazement. It was said that Liu Bei was a master of weeping—truly, his reputation was well-deserved. In less than a minute, his sleeves were drenched. Liu Yao himself had strained for quite some time earlier to squeeze out even a few tears.

Lu Zhi, Guo Jia, Tian Feng, Zhang Fei and the others looked at Liu Bei with disapproval. This was, after all, a military camp—not the place for such wailing.

“Enough!” Lu Zhi snapped, “Xuande, this is the army camp—what are you doing, crying like this?” His dislike for Liu Bei only deepened.

Startled, Liu Bei immediately stifled his tears. He had only wanted to display his benevolence, but had clearly chosen the wrong occasion. Having never served as a soldier, Liu Bei naturally did not know the customs of a military camp.

Seeing Liu Bei stop, Lu Zhi’s expression softened somewhat. He cupped his hands to Liu Yao in apology: “Your Highness, please forgive my disciple’s impropriety.”

“It’s nothing. This gentleman is truly a man of genuine feeling—why should I take offense?” Liu Yao waved his hand, then asked knowingly, “Is this gentleman also your disciple, General Lu? He seems a fine talent, and the stalwart man behind him looks to be a formidable warrior as well. Why not introduce them?”

“Xuande, come forward and pay your respects to the Governor of Youzhou, His Highness the Crown Prince Liu Yao,” Lu Zhi instructed.

Liu Bei, of course, knew Liu Yao. He strode forward respectfully and bowed deeply: “Liu Bei, styled Xuande, pays his respects, Your Highness.”

Guan Yu, behind him, also bowed, albeit perfunctorily, his tone haughty: “Guan Yu, styled Yunchang, pays his respects, Your Highness.” His manner was so arrogant it was almost offensive.

Liu Yao narrowed his eyes at Guan Yu, thinking, “So the tales are true—Guan Yu is indeed proud to such an extent that not even I, with my station, can make him bow his head.”

“How dare you show such disrespect to my lord!” Zhang Fei now strode forth from behind Liu Yao, glaring furiously at Guan Yu.

But Guan Yu did not react; instead, he met Zhang Fei’s gaze head-on, as if they might come to blows then and there.

“Outrageous!” Lu Zhi slammed the table in anger. “Xuande, look at your brother! How dare he be so insolent before His Highness?”

Frightened, Liu Bei hurriedly apologized to Liu Yao: “Your Highness, please forgive my second brother; he meant no offense.” He pulled at Guan Yu’s sleeve.

Guan Yu, understanding Liu Bei’s intent and knowing that this man’s future was at stake, relented despite his reluctance. He bowed and said, “Your Highness, I beg forgiveness for my earlier discourtesy.”

“It’s nothing. These are trifles, unworthy of concern. Yide, come back here,” Liu Yao replied indifferently. Zhang Fei gave Guan Yu one last glare, then returned to Liu Yao’s side.

Liu Yao then looked at Liu Bei with feigned curiosity. “Xuande, your surname is Liu as well? Are you related to my Liu family?”

Hearing this, Liu Bei became excited. Here was the perfect opportunity to establish his imperial kinship. Suppressing his excitement, he answered calmly, “Your Highness, I am indeed surnamed Liu, a thirteenth-generation descendant of Liu Sheng, Prince Jing of Zhongshan, the seventh son of Emperor Jing of Han.”

“Oh!” Liu Yao exclaimed in delight. “So Xuande is truly of imperial blood! By seniority, I should address you as Imperial Uncle!”

Liu Bei was overjoyed, though he quickly waved his hands, protesting that he didn’t dare accept such honor.

“Heh, why not? Since you are of imperial descent, you are entitled. Imperial Uncle, why not produce your genealogy, so I may verify your lineage and record your name in the Liu family register?” Liu Yao said, a familiar sly smile playing at his lips.

Those behind Liu Yao, recognizing that smile, knew he was about to ensnare Liu Bei once more. They were happy to watch; Liu Bei’s endless tears had wearied them.

But at Liu Yao’s words, Liu Bei grew embarrassed. “Your Highness, due to my family’s decline, our genealogy has long since been lost.”

Liu Yao’s face fell. “You truly have no family register, Liu Bei?”

Hearing Liu Yao address him by name instead of ‘Imperial Uncle’, Liu Bei sensed trouble, but could only grit his teeth and reply, “It is indeed lost.”

“Hmph!” Liu Yao snorted coldly. “Without a register, how am I to believe you are of imperial descent? There are countless people surnamed Liu in the world. Not long ago, I executed a Yellow Turban general named Liu Pi—was he an imperial kinsman as well?”

Liu Bei broke out in a cold sweat. To falsely claim imperial lineage was a capital offense, and even he could not say for certain if his claim was genuine—it was simply what his ancestors had passed down. But without a genealogy to prove it, Liu Bei was left speechless and bitterly aggrieved.