Chapter Seventy: Stripped of Identity

“Your Excellency, this man is impersonating a relative of the imperial family. As the heir to the Han dynasty, you must defend the family’s reputation and have him executed,” Guo Jia stepped forward and addressed Liu Yao. Guo Jia, ever the shrewd strategist, immediately grasped Liu Yao’s intention to deal with Liu Bei, though he couldn’t fathom the reason. Nevertheless, he promptly joined in to support Liu Yao’s play.

“That’s right, my lord! This fellow had the nerve to take advantage of you, even making you call him uncle twice. We can’t let him off lightly.” With that, Zhang Fei strode forward, reaching out to seize Liu Bei.

“Don’t harm my elder brother!” Before Zhang Fei could lay a hand on Liu Bei, a forceful shout rang out. Suddenly, a hand appeared at Liu Bei’s side, firmly gripping Zhang Fei’s wrist.

“Hm!” Zhang Fei was startled—he hadn’t expected the red-faced man beside Liu Bei to be such a formidable fighter, matching him in strength. Instantly, he found himself locked in a contest of might with Guan Yu.

“How dare you! Are you rebelling?” Shi A roared, drawing his long sword and pointing it at Liu Bei. Meanwhile, Huang Zhong and the personal guards under Liu Yao’s command drew their weapons, all on alert. Tension filled the tent, the atmosphere razor-sharp.

“Yunchang, stand down at once!” Surrounded, Liu Bei quickly called out to Guan Yu.

Guan Yu, always obedient to Liu Bei, reluctantly released his grip. Finding no further amusement, Zhang Fei also ceased his contest.

“Your Highness, I confess I have no genealogical records, but my family history has been passed down through generations—I believe it to be true. My second brother acted only out of concern for me; he meant no offense. I beg your Highness for forgiveness.” Liu Bei knelt, pleading with Liu Yao.

“This isn’t my elder brother’s fault—I was the one who took action. Punish me if you must!” Guan Yu stepped forward resolutely.

At this moment, Lu Zhi also knelt before Liu Yao, earnestly imploring, “Your Highness, please show mercy to the two of them.”

Liu Yao, realizing the matter had run its course, hurriedly helped Lu Zhi to his feet. “General Lu, please rise. I never intended to punish them.”

Lu Zhi breathed a sigh of relief. Though he did not favor Liu Bei, the man was still his disciple; to let him die before his eyes was something Lu Zhi could not endure.

Liu Yao then turned his cold gaze on Liu Bei and Guan Yu. “We’ll let this matter rest for now, but do not presume to act so brazenly before me again.” He paused before continuing, “Still, Liu Bei, you lack genealogical proof of your identity. I cannot grant you return to the imperial clan. Should you one day produce such proof, the door will always be open. Until then, you are but a commoner. If you dare claim imperial kinship again, you may lose your head.”

After all, Liu Bei was Lu Zhi’s disciple—it would not do to kill him here. Stripping Liu Bei of his claim to imperial kinship, however, was victory enough. History had shown that Liu Bei’s status as a relative of the Han was what drew so many brilliant strategists and mighty warriors to his side. Without it, who would follow a penniless nobody?

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Liu Bei said calmly. Beside him, Guan Yu ground his teeth in silent fury, his eyes full of resentment. He felt the injustice keenly—for with the Han lineage, Liu Bei’s reputation would rise, and opportunities would abound. Now, stripped of that status, Guan Yu could not help but worry for his elder brother’s future. Yet, true to his loyalty and righteousness, even if Liu Bei were a mere commoner, Guan Yu would follow him to the end.

With a cold snort, Liu Yao departed the tent, not sparing Liu Bei another glance. Shi A and the others likewise cast Liu Bei a dismissive look before leaving. In the tent remained Liu Bei, outwardly composed but seething with rage; Guan Yu, grinding his teeth in silent indignation; Lu Zhi, awkward and at a loss; and Cao Cao, who had not found a chance to speak.

Lu Zhi looked once at Liu Bei, sighed helplessly, and turned to leave, leaving behind only a single remark: “Rotten wood cannot be carved.”

Cao Cao, lost in thought, followed Lu Zhi out.

Alone in the tent, Liu Bei let out a weary sigh. His greatest advantage had just been stripped away—who could endure such a blow?

“Brother, doesn’t it seem that Liu Yao is targeting you for some reason?” Once everyone had left, Guan Yu finally voiced his suspicion.

“Ah, Yunchang, I don’t know either. This was our first meeting—who can say why he acted so?” Liu Bei shook his head in resignation. As for that incident in Zhuo County, he was confident Liu Yao had noticed nothing amiss. Try as he might, he couldn’t fathom why Liu Yao would make things difficult for a nobody like himself.

What Liu Bei did not know was that Liu Yao’s senses were keen, and he had noticed all of Liu Bei’s subtle gestures. Even if he had not, with Liu Yao’s foreknowledge of history, how could he not be wary of Liu Bei?

Guan Yu, frustrated, struck the ground with his fist, venting his anger. A heavy silence fell upon the tent.

Outside, Liu Yao, Guo Jia, Xi Zhicai, and the others made their way towards their encampment.

On the way, Liu Yao asked casually, “Fengxiao, Zhizai, Yuanhao, what do you think of this Liu Xuande?”

“What do I think, my lord? He’s like a woman—crying at every turn, with no backbone,” Zhang Fei interjected before the others could answer.

Guo Jia and the others ignored Zhang Fei, who rolled his eyes dramatically before falling silent.

“My lord, I believe Liu Bei is remarkably forbearing. Even after such a blow, he maintained his composure—he is clearly a man of substance,” Tian Feng was the first to speak.

“I agree,” Xi Zhicai echoed. “Liu Bei is no ordinary figure. His hands reach past his knees, his ears hang down to his shoulders—signs of great fortune. Moreover, he is deeply calculating and skilled at winning hearts—he is destined for great things.”

Liu Yao nodded in approval. These two indeed had a keen eye for character, seeing through Liu Bei’s potential at a glance. Noticing that Guo Jia was smiling wordlessly, Liu Yao grew curious. “Fengxiao, why do you remain silent and smile?”

Guo Jia replied with a laugh, “My lord, Zhizai and Yuanhao have already said what I might have—there’s little more to add. I smile because, for now, Liu Bei poses no threat.”

“How so?” Liu Yao asked.

“My lord, Liu Bei is indeed a man of ambition and ability. Beside him stands his sworn brother, Guan Yu, whose strength is in no way inferior to General Zhang’s.”

Before Guo Jia could finish, Zhang Fei cut in again, “That’s right, my lord! That red-faced fellow named Guan Yu is truly strong—judging by his stance and movement, he’s a master.”

Liu Yao nodded in resignation; he was well aware of Guan Yu’s martial prowess. If only… “Go on, Fengxiao.”

Guo Jia shot Zhang Fei a glare for interrupting again, to which the latter sheepishly shrank back, trying to appear contrite.

Ignoring him, Guo Jia continued, “As for why Liu Bei is not yet a concern: he still lacks a strategist like Zhizai or Yuanhao. Even with a formidable force, a single stratagem of mine could defeat him. But should the day come when Liu Bei secures such a man, it would be his chance to soar.”

Liu Yao nodded in agreement. He understood well the latent threat Liu Bei posed—resilient as a cockroach, rising from defeat after defeat among the warlords, yet ever able to seize his chance. That was why Liu Yao strove to create obstacles, to stifle Liu Bei’s growth before it could mature—nipping danger in the bud.