Reborn Liu Bei: I'll lead this Three Kingdoms to victory!

When Liu Li opened his eyes, the first thing he smelled was the musty smell of straw.

He lay there for a full three minutes before accepting two facts: first, he had transmigrated; second, he had become Liu Bei—not the Emperor Zhaolie who had already become emperor, but the fifteen-year-old Liu Bei who had lost his father and made a living by weaving and selling straw sandals with his mother.

"So it's... 175 AD now?"

He sat up and looked around the drafty thatched hut. A few woven straw sandals were piled in the corner, only about twenty pairs. There was a broken bronze mirror by the window; he walked over and saw his handsome but slightly haggard face reflected in it.

Their ears are indeed big.

Liu Li—who should be called Liu Bei now—reached out and pinched his earlobe: "You really can take care of your own ears..."

"Bei'er, you're awake?" A gentle female voice came. Mother Liu came in carrying an earthenware bowl filled with millet porridge so thin you could see your reflection in it. "Hurry and drink it while it's hot. We still have to go to the market to sell shoes today."

Liu Bei took the bowl and looked at this woman, who was almost entirely absent from historical records, and his heart tightened. According to historical records, she would die soon, and Liu Bei would begin his life of travel and study—or rather, wandering.

"Mother, drink too." He pushed the bowl back.

"Mother has already drunk it," Liu said with a smile, her eyes crinkling with deep wrinkles.

Liu Bei didn't speak, but simply broke the bowl in two and forcefully shoved it back into his mother's hands. He drank the bland porridge, his mind racing.

Fifteen years, nine years before the Yellow Turban Rebellion, and thirteen years before the Oath of the Peach Garden.

We have enough time, but what about the start-up capital?

"Mother, how much money do we have left?" Liu Bei asked tentatively.

Liu pulled a ceramic jar from under the bed and poured out a dozen or so five-zhu coins: "They're all here. Enough to buy a month's worth of millet."

Liu Bei looked at the rusty copper coins and fell into deep thought.

Following the normal historical trajectory, he would first travel and study, becoming a disciple of Lu Zhi, meeting Gongsun Zan, then returning to his hometown to recruit soldiers and horses, and encountering Guan Yu and Zhang Fei...

too slow.

And they were too poor.

"Mother," Liu Bei put down his bowl, a strange light flashing in his eyes, "we're not going to sell straw sandals today."

"Then what for?"

"I'll go borrow money." Liu Bei stood up, straightening his patched hemp clothes. "I need to borrow some money that can change our fate."

Zhang Family Manor in Zhuoxian County is the most magnificent residence within a radius of 100 miles.

Zhang Fei, courtesy name Yide (Note: In historical records, Zhang Fei's courtesy name was Yide, but in the novel it was changed to Yide), is seventeen years old this year. He has inherited the vast family business left by his ancestors, which mainly consists of several hundred acres of fertile land, a winery, and a pork shop.

But he's been very troubled lately.

"It's sour again!" Zhang Fei smashed the earthenware bowl on the ground, spilling wine everywhere. "This is the third batch this month! You bunch of useless trash!"

The winemakers knelt on the ground, trembling.

Zhang Fei loved wine, but he loved brewing it even more. He always felt that the wine he made wasn't strong enough or pure enough, so he tried to improve the process, but the more he tried, the worse it got.

Just then, the gatekeeper came to report: "Master, there is a young man outside requesting an audience, saying that he can solve our family's wine problem."

"Teenager? How old?"

"He looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, claimed his surname was Liu, and said he came from Lousang Village."

"Get rid of him, get rid of him," Zhang Fei waved his hand. "I've seen plenty of swindlers, but this is the first one so young..."

"He said he had a 'method of distillation'," the doorman added.

Zhang Fei's hand froze in mid-air.

Distillation? He had never heard of that word before.

"Bring it in."

A moment later, Liu Bei entered the hall. He was wearing faded linen clothes, but his back was ramrod straight, and his face wore a perfectly measured smile—neither humble nor arrogant, yet exuding confidence.

Zhang Fei squinted at him, scrutinizing him: "You say you can distill?"

"I know a little about it." Liu Bei cupped his hands in greeting. "It can not only solve the problem of the wine being sour, but also increase the wine's concentration threefold, making the taste purer."

"Three times?" Zhang Fei scoffed. "Kid, do you know what you're saying?"

"I know." Liu Bei took out a small earthenware bottle from his pocket—it was the product of his experiment last night using a simple distiller made from the only earthenware jar in his house. "Brother Zhang, why don't you try this first?"

Zhang Fei took it suspiciously and pulled out the stopper.

A rich aroma of wine instantly filled the air.

He paused for a moment, then carefully took a sip.

The next moment, his eyes widened in surprise.

Intense! Pure! Fragrant!

He had never tasted anything like it before!

"This...you made this?" Zhang Fei's voice changed.

"Using the simplest tools and the worst ingredients," Liu Bei smiled. "If I gave Brother Zhang enough bronze and pottery, along with the ingredients and manpower of Zhang's winery, I could make wine ten times better than this."

Zhang Fei stared at him for a full ten breaths.

"Conditions," he uttered.

"I want 30% of the profits," Liu Bei said calmly, "and, Brother Zhang, a promise."

"What promise?"

"When I need to raise an army to restore the Han Dynasty someday, Brother Zhang, you must bring all your belongings and your martial prowess, and come with me."

The hall was deathly silent.

The brewers looked at Liu Bei as if he were a madman.

Zhang Fei laughed, his laughter growing louder and louder: "Restore the Han Dynasty? You? A fifteen-year-old boy?"

"My surname is Liu, my given name is Bei, and my courtesy name is Xuande." Liu Bei said slowly and deliberately, "I am a descendant of Prince Jing of Zhongshan and a great-great-grandson of Emperor Jing of Han."

He said this without batting an eye—after all, the family genealogy had been lost long ago, and no one could disprove it.

Zhang Fei's laughter stopped.

He looked Liu Bei over again, his gaze becoming complex: "Are you a member of the Han imperial family?"

"Absolutely genuine." Liu Bei pointed to his ears. "Brother Zhang, have you ever seen an ordinary person with ears this big?"

Zhang Fei looked at it and realized he had never seen it before.

"You want 30% of the profits? I can agree to that," Zhang Fei said slowly, "but that promise... I'll have to see what you're capable of."

"Three days." Liu Bei stretched out a hand. "Give me three days, and I'll double the output of Zhang's Winery and triple the quality. If I fail, I'll give you three years of free apprenticeship in brewing."

Zhang Fei slammed his fist on the table and stood up: "Fine! Three days it is!"

Three days later, at Zhang's Winery.

Zhang Fei stared at the clear, water-like liquid in front of him, his hands trembling.

"This...this was really made with my batch of sour wine?"

"Double distillation, activated charcoal filtration." Liu Bei wiped the sweat from his brow—he had barely slept for the past three days. "Brother Zhang, would you like to try some?"

Zhang Fei took a bite, and then remained silent for the duration of an incense stick burning.

When he looked up again, his eyes were no longer filled with doubt, only fervor: "Brother Liu, no, Young Master Liu! Your skill is divine!"

"This is just the beginning," Liu Bei smiled. "I also have thirteen different aroma formulas, eight aging processes, and..."

He pulled a bamboo scroll from his pocket: "A complete brand marketing plan."

"What...brand?"

"Simply put, I want the whole world to know that the best wine is called 'Zhang Family Old Wine,' and that drinking Zhang Family Old Wine makes one a person of taste." Liu Bei unfolded the bamboo slips. "My plan is to proceed in three steps: First, open up the Zhuoxian market; second, sell it throughout Youzhou; third, sell it to Luoyang and Chang'an..."

Zhang Fei was dumbfounded.

This fifteen-year-old boy was ten times more shrewd in business than his scion of a prominent family.

"Brother Liu," Zhang Fei solemnly cupped his hands, "from today onwards, you are my brother! The affairs of the distillery are entirely yours!"

"That promise Brother Zhang made..."

"As long as you can show me hope for restoring the Han Dynasty," Zhang Fei grinned, "my life, Zhang Yide's life, is yours!"

The first step was successful.

Liu Bei breathed a sigh of relief, but remained outwardly calm: "Brother Zhang, besides the wine, I have another business deal to discuss."

"What kind of business?"

"pork."

Zhang Fei was stunned: "Pork? That stuff has a strong, unpleasant smell; rich people don't like to eat it..."

"That's because the processing and cooking methods are wrong." Liu Bei's eyes gleamed. "Give me a month, and I can turn pork into a delicacy even more precious than mutton. At that time, we'll pair our wine with our meat, operating on two fronts, and double our profits."

Zhang Fei was completely convinced: "Alright! I'll do whatever you say!"

"But before that," Liu Bei changed the subject, "I need to see someone first."

"Who?"

"A burly, red-faced man selling dates." Liu Bei smiled meaningfully. "He's been setting up his stall at the east end of the market for three months now."

At the eastern end of Zhuoxian market, Guan Yu's jujube stall was deserted.

It's not that the dates are bad, it's just that the person selling them is too fierce.

Almond-shaped eyes, silkworm-shaped eyebrows, and a face as red as a jujube—this is the literal meaning, because Guan Yu's face was indeed very red. Standing there, he didn't look like a jujube seller, but rather like someone collecting protection money.

So in the past three months, he hasn't sold many dates, but he has scared away a lot of customers.

Guan Yu didn't mind. He hadn't set up his stall here to sell dates in the first place.

He is waiting.

Waiting for an opportunity to let him see the light of day again.

"Brother Yun, are your dates guaranteed to be sweet?"

A clear voice rang out.

Guan Yu looked up and saw a young man in white standing in front of the stall, with a gentle smile and unusually large ears.

"Of course," Guan Yu replied in a deep, resonant voice.

"If I buy everything, can we be friends?" the boy asked, still smiling.

Guan Yu narrowed his eyes. This was the first time in his three months in the market that someone had spoken to him like this.

"I don't need friends," he said coldly.

"Really?" The boy leaned closer, lowering his voice. "What if I told you that I know your name is Guan Yu, courtesy name Yunchang, from Jie County, Hedong, and that you fled here after committing murder... wouldn't you need any friends either?"

Guan Yu's hand instantly pressed down on the sword at his waist!

murderous look!

A chilling killing intent spread out, and the surrounding temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

But the young man remained unfazed, his smile widening even more: "Don't be nervous, Brother Yun Chang. I'm not with the government, and I don't intend to do anything to you. On the contrary, I'm here to help you."

"Help me?" Guan Yu sneered. "What can a mere youth like you do to help me?"

"I can let you walk openly in the sunlight." Liu Bei looked directly into his eyes. "I can give you a place to use your martial arts skills, instead of making a living selling dates here."

Guan Yu stared at him for a long time, then slowly loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword: "Who exactly are you?"

"Liu Bei, Liu Xuande, a descendant of Prince Jing of Zhongshan." Liu Bei cupped his hands in greeting. "Of course, this identity isn't valuable now. But in the future, it will be very valuable."

"What do you want to do?"

"To restore the Han Dynasty and pacify the world," Liu Bei said calmly, as if he were commenting on the fine weather. "I need talented people, especially someone like Brother Yun, a warrior capable of defeating ten thousand men."

Guan Yu remained silent.

He was scrutinizing the boy. Too young, unbelievably young. But his eyes, his demeanor, were definitely not those of a fifteen-year-old.

"On what grounds?" Guan Yu asked.

"I can see the future." Liu Bei took out a small cloth bag from his pocket and poured out a few gleaming gold coins—his advance payment from Zhang Fei over the past three days. "This is a deposit. Within a month, I will assemble a force of three hundred men in Zhuo County, which you will train and lead. If you feel I am not worth following, you can leave with this money at any time."

Guan Yu looked at the gold, then at Liu Bei.

"Aren't you afraid I'll take the money and run?"

"I'm afraid," Liu Bei honestly admitted, "but I'm even more afraid of missing out on a brother who can stand shoulder to shoulder with me to pacify the world."

That was said too bluntly and too sincerely.

Guan Yu remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he reached out, but not to take money. Instead, he wrapped all the dates in a cloth from the date stall and packed them up: "These dates are yours."

Liu Bei smiled: "So, Brother Yun, you've agreed?"

"I'll give you a month." Guan Yu stood up. He was extremely tall, more than a head taller than Liu Bei when he stood up. "Let me see if you're just talking big."

"I won't let you down." Liu Bei took the dates, turned to leave, then turned back. "By the way, Brother Yun, the person you killed, was he a local bully?"

Guan Yu's body trembled.

"I guessed so," Liu Bei laughed. "So don't feel guilty. In this chaotic world, killing evil people is doing good. Follow me from now on, and you'll have plenty of evil people to kill."

After saying that, he picked up a large bag of dates and walked away unsteadily.

Guan Yu stood there, watching the boy's back. After a long while, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

interesting.

Two months later, Zhang's "Liehuo Shao" liquor had been sold all over Youzhou.

Three months later, Zhang's braised pork with secret recipe became a specialty of Zhuoxian County, and even the prefect sent people to buy it.

Four months later, Liu Bei had five hundred gold coins in his private account.

This speed even astonished Zhang Fei: "Brother Liu, how did you get your brain working like that?"

"Observe more, learn more, and think more," Liu Bei said while checking the account books. "By the way, Brother Zhang, have you found the blacksmith I asked you to find?"

"I've found three, and they're all skilled. But what do you need so many blacksmiths for?"

"Make something." Liu Bei drew a strange diagram on the bamboo slip, "A new type of agricultural tool, and... some self-defense weapons."

"For self-defense?" Zhang Fei sensed something was amiss. "Is something going to happen?"

"It'll be soon." Liu Bei put down his pen and looked out the window. "Next year, there will be a great plague in Ji Province. The year after that, there will be floods in Jiangnan. And the year after that..."

He paused for a moment, then said, "People from the Way of Peace will come looking for you."

Zhang Fei's expression changed: "The Way of Peace? Those who use talismans and holy water to cure diseases?"

"On the surface, they're using talismanic water to cure illnesses, but in reality..." Liu Bei lowered his voice, "they're training their troops."

Zhang Fei gasped.

"So we need to prepare." Liu Bei's eyes sharpened. "Money, grain, men, and weapons. Brother Zhang, starting next month, 70% of the profits from the winery and butcher shop should be used to stockpile grain, 20% to forge weapons, and 10% to continue expanding the business."

"So, what's your share...?"

"Invest it all," Liu Bei said decisively. "Chaos is about to break out, and money will only be useful if it is transformed into power."

Looking at Liu Bei, Zhang Fei suddenly felt that there was something about this young man that made his heart tremble.

That's not ambition.

It's a kind of...composure that sees through everything and controls everything.

"Brother Liu," Zhang Fei said solemnly, "I, Zhang Yide, have never submitted to anyone in my life, but you, I submit to you. From now on, if you say go east, I will never go west!"

Liu Bei smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "Good brother."

That night, Liu Bei stood alone in the courtyard, looking at the moon in the sky.

He has been in this world for half a year. He changed Liu Bei's original life trajectory - instead of traveling and studying, instead of becoming Lu Zhi's apprentice, he chose a more practical path: first make money, then build relationships, and finally build a career.

Guan Yu has been initially won over, Zhang Fei is completely bound to him, and the initial capital is available...

Next, it's time to recruit more people.

But recruiting soldiers requires official status.

Liu Bei stroked his chin: "It seems I should pay a visit to the Prefect."

Liu Yan, the governor of Zhuojun, was a very practical person.

When Liu Bei brought ten jars of "Liehuo Shao" (a type of liquor) and one hundred gold pieces to meet him, he warmly received this "fellow clansman".

"Nephew, I heard your business has been doing quite well lately?" Liu Yan stroked his beard, his eyes fixed on the box of gold.

"Thanks to the Prefect, I'm barely making ends meet," Liu Bei said humbly. "I've come today for two reasons: first, to show respect to my elders, and second, to make a request."

"Oh? Please speak freely."

"I see that the world is in turmoil and bandits are on the rise. I want to organize a local militia to protect my hometown." Liu Bei said sincerely, "I dare not trouble the government. I will provide all the money and provisions myself. I only need the governor to give me a title. I am willing to share the burden of the court."

Liu Yan's eyes lit up.

Local militia? Providing their own money and provisions? He couldn't be happier with such a good deal!

"My dear nephew, your patriotic heart is something I will certainly support!" Liu Yan declared. "Therefore, I appoint you as the Commander of the Militia of Zhuo County, and authorize you to recruit three hundred local militia to maintain local order. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Prefect!" Liu Bei bowed deeply.

Things went more smoothly than I expected.

But just as Liu Bei was about to take his leave, Liu Yan suddenly said, "By the way, my dear nephew, since you want to train troops, I have someone here to recommend."

"Oh? Who is it?"

"There's an old soldier named Zou Jing. He fought against the Qiang people, was wounded and retired, and now works as a gatekeeper in the manor." Liu Yan sighed, "What a talent, what a pity. If you need an instructor, you can take him with you."

Zou Jing?

Liu Bei's heart skipped a beat. This name appeared in official history; he was an important general under Liu Bei in his early years!

"Thank you, Prefect!" Liu Bei bowed again, this time with even greater sincerity.

As he left the prefect's residence, a lame old soldier followed him.

"Elder Zou, I'll be relying on you from now on," Liu Bei said politely.

Zou Jing looked at the young "Military Commander" with some doubt: "Does the young master really intend to train troops?"

"Really train them." Liu Bei nodded. "Not only do we need to train them, but we also need to train them into elite troops."

"So, how does the young master plan to train?"

Liu Bei stopped and looked at Zou Jing: "Elder Zou, what kind of soldiers do you think can be considered elite troops?"

"Orders must be obeyed without question, and soldiers must be brave and capable of fighting."

"Not enough." Liu Bei shook his head. "The soldiers I need not only to be brave and capable of fighting, but also to know why they are fighting and for whom they are fighting. I want them to be literate, understand principles, and know that they are protecting their homeland and their families, not blindly engaging in slaughter."

Zou Jing was stunned.

He had served in the army for thirty years and had never heard of such a claim.

"Young master... I'm afraid that will be difficult."

"Difficulty is what makes it worthwhile." Liu Bei laughed. "Old Zou, come work with me. I dare not say I can make you a marquis or a general, but I guarantee that the soldiers you lead will become the most spirited soldiers in the world."

Zou Jing looked into Liu Bei's eyes for a long time, then knelt on one knee: "Zou Jing is willing to serve you like a dog or a horse!"

Three months later, outside Zhuoxian City, at the manor that Liu Bei had bought.

The three hundred local militia have begun to take shape.

These people were all carefully selected by Liu Bei: some were poor but respectable men, some were farmers who had been oppressed by powerful figures, and some were passionate young people who genuinely wanted to protect their country.

The training was tough, but the food was excellent—there was meat at every meal, and everyone was full.

Their pay was also high—twice that of ordinary county soldiers.

More importantly, Liu Bei would give them "lessons" every night.

They didn't teach martial arts, but literacy, principles, history, why the world was in chaos, and that being a soldier wasn't about killing, but about stopping killing.

Many soldiers didn't understand at first, but gradually they began to comprehend it.

The knife in my hand is not for bullying people, but for protecting them.

This concept is revolutionary in this era.

Guan Yu stood at the edge of the training ground, looking at the soldiers who were training, with a complex expression in his eyes.

Over the past three months, he has witnessed firsthand how this team has grown from nothing, and how those originally timid farmers have gradually taken on the appearance of soldiers.

He watched as Liu Bei, this seventeen-year-old boy, used a method he couldn't understand at all to unite the hearts of these people.

"Brother Yun, what do you think?" Liu Bei walked up to him without him noticing.

"Unprecedented," Guan Yu said truthfully, "but...it's very effective."

"It's good that it works." Liu Bei smiled. "By the way, there's something I'd like to discuss with Brother Yun."

"What is it?"

"On the fifteenth of next month, I would like to formally acknowledge Brother Yun and Brother Zhang as brothers," Liu Bei said, looking at Guan Yu. "Not a private address, but a public declaration to the world, the kind of oath of brotherhood in the Peach Garden, a vow to share life and death."

Guan Yu's body trembled.

In this era, swearing brotherhood is an extremely solemn matter. Once sworn brothers are formed, they are true brothers, sharing honor and disgrace, and entrusting each other with life and death.

"Am I... worthy?" Guan Yu hesitated, a rare occurrence. "I'm a fugitive..."

"If I say you're worthy, then you are." Liu Bei said decisively, "Brother Yun's loyalty, martial prowess, and courage are all top-notch in this era. I need a brother like you to achieve great things."

Guan Yu remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he slowly clasped his hands in a fist and said, "I, Guan... am willing to become sworn brothers with you, young master."

Liu Bei smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "Alright, it's settled then. On the fifteenth of next month, in Taoyuan, the three of us brothers will formally swear brotherhood."

He looked into the distance, a sharp glint in his eyes.

He was going to stage the Oath of the Peach Garden, a famous historical scene, thirteen years ahead of schedule.

This time, there will be no more displacement, no more living under someone else's roof.

He wanted to take the initiative from the very beginning.

"Brother Yunchang," Liu Bei suddenly asked, "if one day we were to face the most powerful warlord in the land, would you be afraid?"

Guan Yu raised an eyebrow: "The word 'fear' does not exist in my dictionary."

"That's good." Liu Bei smiled brightly. "Because that day isn't too far away."

In the spring of the first year of Zhongping (184 AD), Julu.

Standing on the high platform, Zhang Jiao looked down at the sea of ​​believers below, his heart filled with boundless pride.

"The Azure Heaven is dead, the Yellow Heaven shall rise! In the year of Jiazi, great fortune will come to the world!"

The slogans resounded through the sky.

The Way of Peace, after ten years of preparation, is finally about to launch its uprising.

What he didn't know was that in the distant Zhuojun of Youzhou, there was a "village militia" of three hundred men who had been training for two whole years.

The commander of this team was a nineteen-year-old youth named Liu Bei.

Unbeknownst to him, the young man possessed a list containing the names, addresses, and... specific dates of the uprising of all the important leaders of the Taiping Dao in Youzhou.

What they didn't know was that three days earlier, a copy of the list had already been sent to Luoyang through special channels.

The butterfly's wings have already flapped.

The wheels of history are quietly turning in another direction.

And it all started five years ago, when a boy opened his eyes and uttered those words:

"I'm changing my playstyle this game."