Volume One, Chapter One: Falling Before the Journey Begins?

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In the year 226, the Northern Expedition of Shu Han was imminent.

Within the capital city of Shu, in the office of the Chief Clerk to the Prime Minister—

"Chief Clerk! Chief Clerk!" An urgent and pressing cry echoed from outside the courtyard, prompting Yang Yi to look up.

Bang!

The door was suddenly flung open. The newcomer wore a dark blue long robe and an official cap, his brows furrowed and his expression grave from the moment he entered.

This man was none other than Zhao Li, a trusted retainer of Yang Yi’s household.

"My lord, the Prime Minister has passed away!"

Disbelief and shock were written across Zhao Li’s face, equally stunned by the news he bore.

"What did you say?!"

Yang Yi froze, his brush halting mid-air.

Zhao Li swallowed hard, repeating:

"The Prime Minister has died—he breathed his last at dawn!"

"Since the grand court debate two days ago, the Prime Minister caught a chill and has not left his residence!"

"I received word and even went to his manor to confirm—the news is beyond doubt."

Zhuge Liang has died?!

Yang Yi felt the world spinning around him.

It was only the fourth year of the Jianxing era—Zhuge Liang was to marshal his forces in Hanzhong and begin the Northern Expedition in the fifth year. Even if his death was fated, it should have been seven years hence! For Zhuge Liang to die before even launching this year's campaign—it made no sense!

Yang Yi’s thoughts raced, and soon he grasped the key.

True history and what is written in the records must differ; later generations described Zhang Fei as burly and fearsome, but in reality, he was quite handsome! Perhaps Zhuge Liang’s death, too, diverged from the chronicles. And indeed, he had taken ill and excused himself from court several days prior.

So—Zhuge Liang is truly dead?

It had been several years since Yang Yi was transported to the Three Kingdoms era.

Now, he bore the identity and name of Yang Yi—the very man history remembers as Zhuge Liang’s right-hand, renowned for his talent in administration.

From the moment he arrived, Yang Yi understood—once Zhuge Liang succumbed to illness after the failed Northern Expedition at Wuzhang Plains, he would be left without support, destined for marginalization and retribution.

Thus, in the intervening years, Yang Yi made countless secret preparations for the day Zhuge Liang would pass.

In his first year in Shu, he used his assets to establish a fine salt refinery; with the profits, he opened a bank in Chengdu using capital brought from Jingzhou—loaning to the people, encouraging officials to deposit funds, enticing the elite to buy bonds…

With money in hand, everything followed naturally—building a network of loyal followers, recruiting death-defying warriors, forging connections…

Every move was in anticipation of the Prime Minister’s death.

Though he shadowed Zhuge Liang daily as Chief Clerk—a trusted secretary, in effect—he never imagined this day would come so soon!

With Zhuge Liang gone, Wei Yan—his perennial adversary among the five armies—would surely become restless.

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Next was Li Yan, the former General-in-Chief, whom Zhuge Liang had sidelined to Jiangzhou.

And beyond them, there were officials in court: Jiang Wan, Fei Yi, Dong Yun, Deng Zhi, and more!

As Zhuge Liang’s confidant, Yang Yi knew that no matter who seized control, he would become a target for every faction’s purge.

Were he to simply wait for fate, exile would be the best he could hope for—execution, the worst!

"My lord, the Prime Minister’s death is not yet public. I came to inform you the moment I learned—perhaps not even the palace knows," Zhao Li whispered.

"If the news spreads and word reaches the court, every minister and general will covet the Prime Minister’s authority and military command!"

"My lord… the moment is fleeting—we cannot hesitate!"

Yang Yi’s expression gradually steadied.

"Wei Yan and Li Yan have long harbored ill intent. Learning of the Prime Minister’s passing, they will surely act."

"For the sake of the late Emperor’s legacy, for the Prime Minister’s last will, for the people of Shu—I must step forward!"

As he spoke, Yang Yi picked up a gold token from his desk and handed it to Zhao Li.

"Hurry, summon the Wudang Flying Troops—seal the city and secure the court with me!"

Yang Yi gave the order without hesitation.

"This… Yes, my lord!"

Zhao Li stared at the gold token inscribed with ‘Wudang’, visibly startled.

The Wudang Flying Troops were his master’s trump card. To mobilize them into the city now—the crisis was greater than he had imagined!

After Zhao Li departed, Yang Yi quickly gathered his thoughts.

At this point, his priority was to seize control of Shu Han.

Before his death, Liu Bei entrusted his son at Baidi Fortress to two men: Zhuge Liang and Li Yan.

Their powers were clear—Zhuge Liang oversaw civil affairs, Li Yan the military. But later, Zhuge Liang took all military command, leaving Li Yan aggrieved and resentful.

If anyone was likely to move after Zhuge Liang’s death, it was Li Yan!

But even more dangerous was Wei Yan, who had always been at odds with Yang Yi.

Within the time it takes for incense to burn—

From the southern gate, a force of silver-armored troops rode into the city.

Their commander wore a heavy, ornate mail coat, gleaming beneath the sun—magnificent and imposing.

His horse, a rare Ferghana steed in Shu, was powerful and swift as the wind.

The soldiers behind him were equally well-armed: clad in mail, their armor and weapons clattering with lethal intent, each bearing iron sabers at their waists and crossbows on their backs—a formidable sight.

Citizens on both sides of the street stepped aside in awe and whispered in shock.

"Which garrison is this? I’ve never seen them before!"

"This is the first time I’ve seen so many in matching mail, iron sabers, repeating crossbows—unbelievable!"

"Never mind the arms—their mounts are all Xiongnu warhorses, each worth a fortune!"

"Has something happened? Why else would such a mysterious force enter the city?"

…

The army advanced in formation, halting before Yang Yi’s residence—several thousand men standing at attention.

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The commander, Zou Ping, dismounted and strode into the estate.

"Greetings, Chief Clerk!"

Upon seeing Yang Yi step from the main hall, Zou Ping bowed deeply.

"The brothers await outside, ready for your command!"

Yang Yi approached, speaking plainly:

"Just now, the Prime Minister has passed away."

"What?" Zou Ping was dumbstruck, but quickly composed himself.

"My lord! With the Prime Minister’s passing, now is the perfect moment for you to seize power!"

"Seize power? Seize what?" Yang Yi gave him a meaningful look, his tone earnest.

"I summoned you not to usurp authority, but to uphold the Prime Minister’s legacy, stabilize the court, and suppress all traitorous hearts!"

"If the Prime Minister were alive, he would not wish to see chaos and bloodshed among officials!"

Zou Ping paused, then nodded repeatedly.

"Yes! You are right, my lord—this is to honor the Prime Minister’s last will!"

"Still, my lord, we are rich, our troops are strong—at your command, we could march not just on the capital, but even launch thousands of elite soldiers straight to Luoyang!"

"All the brothers are loyal to you—there is nothing to fear!"

"We’ll speak of that later! Right now, control of the situation is paramount!"

Yang Yi walked past him and stepped into the courtyard. At his appearance—

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The Wudang Flying Troops moved as one, without a hint of confusion, dropping to one knee and saluting with hands on their chests.

This elite force, formed from the southern tribes subdued by Zhuge Liang, had later been entrusted to Yang Yi.

Ever since he took command, Yang Yi had spared no expense—openly and secretly—to provide for his men, ensuring none were neglected.

Among Shu Han’s five armies, the Wudang Flying Troops enjoyed the best life and highest rewards.

Over time, from General Zou Ping down to the lowest private, all became fiercely loyal to Yang Yi.

"A thousand days to raise an army, one day to use it," Yang Yi intoned solemnly.

"Now the Prime Minister has passed, the capital is on the brink of turmoil—how many among the officials harbor treacherous designs, endangering the state?"

"At this moment of crisis for the nation, it is time for you to show your loyalty to the Prime Minister and to Shu Han!"

"We swear to follow the Chief Clerk to the death!"

Thousands of soldiers roared in unison, their voices shaking the streets, their blood ablaze.

"Zou Ping, send three thousand elite troops to safeguard the palace—His Majesty’s safety is paramount!"

"Next, you will personally lead five thousand men to secure all four city gates—prevent anyone with ill intent from bringing forces into the city!"

"The rest are to lie in wait around the Prime Minister’s mansion—let none with wicked designs approach his remains!"

"Zou Ping, Zhao Li, you two will accompany me to the Prime Minister’s residence to pay our respects!"