Fanfic Fanfare!




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Re: Old Wars of Enroth



Chapter 1: Remembering Years Back





















Please read and review, idea's are most welcome.
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Dong Zhou
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Re: Fanfic Fanfare!


OC: and the second chapter

























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Dong Zhou
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Re: Fanfic Fanfare!





Here I will post the chapters :)
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Zhang Jiao's dead >> <<
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Fan-fiction: Zhao Yun--Thank You

Unread postby Virginie » Mon Aug 06, 2018 11:49 am

-> This is the first time I've written such a long story EVER. (Mainly because I'm a huge fan of Zhao Yun :oops: ) Apologizes if it becomes boring, tedious, annoying, etc.
-> My O.C.: Zhao Qing (趙凊) :D
(The reason I post my fanfiction here is because I can't do that in Kongming's Archives.)

"When in the world is he ever coming?!"

This was perhaps the hundredth time Zhang Fei murmured to himself. If one's temper grew worse over the day, Zhang Fei's temper was more than halfway to his worst. He wondered if Zhao Yun's strength followed a similar pattern.

Squinting his eyes for perhaps the hundredth time as well, Zhang Fei tried hard to dig for a human trace from the endless dirt road lying ahead of him. Luckily, his effort didn't fail him this time. Starting as a dot and gradually getting bigger was a red-and-white figure. According to Zhang Fei's shining, eager eyes, ninety-five percent of it was red.

Now who is THAT?!

"Yide, help me!"

There came the first words Zhang Fei have heard in the past few hours.

It is him! That’s Zilong! He is finally back!

Ears filled with horse shoes clicking and heart with delight, Zhang Fei throw the torturing impatience aside and greeted his friend enthusiastically.

"Zilong, cross the bridge! I'll handle the enemies!"

Nodding a thank you, Zhao Yun galloped past him, over the bridge, and into the woods.

For a split second, Zhang Fei's heart felt like piercing by a needle. He saw the blood-stained cloak and armor, shining a dull red color in the afternoon sun. He noticed, too, the exhausted face covered with mud, blood, and sweat. All these happened in the blink of an eye, but Zhang Fei wouldn't forget it for a long, long time.


Zhao Yun sighed internally after finally arrived in the relatively friendly territory. Inhaling deeply, he smelled blood, dirt and sweat, not surprisingly. However, the movements brought tearing pain to his chest, and it became worse as the chest received pressure from the clothes in the process of expanding. Not wincing a bit, he calmly and slowly exhaled while looking down at the dusty bundle with a light but benevolent smile.

"Just a few more minutes, Young Master, and we will meet your father for sure."

After whispering this silently, Zhao Yun rested his tired body on his horse and forced himself to focus on the road supposed to take him to his loving master, Liu Bei.


Liu Bei's mind was in complete shambles. Within less than a day, his once huge procession was diminished into a few tens of topsy-turvy people--wounded soldiers without armor, children crying for parents, elderly people with their helpless gaze, and, most importantly, his wife who is alone. This meant his other wife and his only son were lost in the battlefield. What could he do, anyway? A lot of his subordinates were missing, too. How could he expect a lady carrying a several-month-old baby to survive the massacre? Would his missing men survive? What was he going to do after this? What if he and everyone else around him got killed before help arrive? When was Kongming arriving? Would he ever arrive? Was Mi Fang right about Zilong after all? What...... Thousands of questions drove Liu Bei’s head to the verge of exploding. Struggling to calm himself down, he leaned against the tree trunk and dozed off restlessly.


A most pitiful and filthy crowd appeared before Zhao Yun's barely opened eyes. He shook his head violently to wake himself up. As it grew larger and larger, he could clearly distinguish the scattered, resting people among the trees. The afternoon sun spilled a layer of golden dust on the clothes already covered with dirt. He could see his master napping under a tree with a few of his men beside him. Thank God, he thought, my master was not hurt. Tears gathered in his eyes when he realized he was finally reunited with the man who was the very reason he risked his life for.

As Zhao Yun came close to the crowd, he attempted to dismount. However, his legs weighted a thousand pounds and his waist was as stiff as stone. With difficulty, which he tried very hard not to show, and suppressing a groan, he managed to get off his horse. Leaning on his spear and breathing heavily, his vision wavered for a moment, but he managed to steady it quickly enough for nobody to notice.

He saw his master's weary face and the tears inside the eyes. He heard the voice, shattered by sobs, calling his name. Zhao Yun could hold back his tears no more. Weeping, he fell to his knees, head touching the ground. All of a sudden, the remorse of not being able to protect the carriage, the anxiety of not being able to find the ladies, the pain of watching Lady Mi jump into the well, the nervousness of not knowing if he and Young Master could make it alive, and the joy of finally seeing his master, were suddenly unleashed. Bitter as well as happy tears streamed down his cheeks. Just then, he felt hands getting into contact with his arms and dragging him up. Lifting his head, Zhao Yun looked directly into Liu Bei's eyes through the mist.

Words at the tip of his throat choked him: he hated to tell his master the tragic events. However, he knew he must deliver the news. Nevertheless, those words filled him with shame. Still out of breath, Zhao Yun, with a turbulent mind, uttered,

"Zhao Yun’s faults deserve him more than ten thousand deaths! Lady Mi was severely wounded and refused to mount the horse, thus ending her life in the well. I carried Young Master and broke through enemy lines. A while ago, he was crying in my arms, but now he is silent. I am afraid he is no more..."

In haste, Zhao Yun reached for the bundle and untied it from his chest. Looking inside, he saw the sweet, tranquil face of a sleeping baby. His heart was overflowed with joy.

"Fortunately, Young Master is unharmed.”

His master’s bloodline was saved! Smiling, Zhao Yun handed the baby to Liu Bei with both hands.


The warrior in front of him was literally covered with blood. The once-sparkling eyes were red with fatigue and filled with tears. The handsome cheek was bruised, the hair that was always tied into a neat bun lay scattered over his forehead, and the well-curved lips were torn and cracked with lack of water. He was drawing heavy, labored breath one after another. Filling Liu Bei’s nose was the odor of blood mixed with sweat and metal.

Liu Bei’s heart broke into pieces. The long battle and the irreparable losses of his men destroyed his usual composed self. Eyes overflowing with tears, he took the baby in his hands. His only son was asleep peacefully, fully ignoring the chaotic world, not even the man who saved him from hell. Liu Bei’s emotions were beyond description. Here it was, safe and sound, with almost the cost of the life of the bravest and most faithful general!

From the beginning, Liu Bei knew Zhao Yun would never betray him. Although the latter talked little and kept most of his feelings to himself, Liu Bei was able to see the burning ardor in his eyes--the desire of protecting his master to the end of his life, the promise to give his life whenever necessary, and the devotion to helping a man build a prosperous nation. In his anguish hours, however, Liu Bei questioned this man’s loyalty. He doubted his intention when the latter headed north and calculated the probability of him surrendering to Cao Cao. When he saw Zhao Yun’s battle-worn figure trotting towards him, imagine the feeling! Liu Bei never felt more guilt ridden.

And now his son was brought to him, unscathed.

“Because of you, worthless child, I almost lose my most precious general!”

Liu Bei yelled these words at Adou; fresh tears streamed down his cheeks once again. His hand trembled under the bundle and his lips trembled with rage as well. Turning his head, he did the least expected motion: hurling his son to the ground.


Zhao Yun was shocked. It was as if thunder rang on top of his head and lightning struck him directly through the body. He didn’t anticipate Liu Bei’s extreme reaction AT ALL. Actually, he didn’t even guess how his master would react, not only because he was worn out both physically and mentally, but also because the only thing in his mind was to accomplish successfully what he was assigned or what he believed was the best for his master.

Zhao Yun was touched. He never expected his master to value him such. All he wanted to do was to bring Adou to his father alive and preserve the Liu family bloodline. And now his master put his importance over that of the Young Master.

Thanks to his martial arts training, Zhao Yun responded with extraordinary speed even in exhaustion. He caught Adou midair, before the baby touched the ground. Nevertheless, the baby woke from his dream with a startle and cried aloud.

With the wailing baby in his arms, Zhao Yun’s heart throbbed. Warm tears escaped his eyes, wetting his armor and clothes. He bowed to the ground, sobbing violently.

“Zhao Yun cannot pay your Excellency’s kindness, EVER!”

A pair of strong hands helped him up again and he looked into Liu Bei’s eyes the second time. Liu Bei took over the baby and gave it to Lady Sun, who accepted without a word. Then, holding Zhao Yun by both arms, the middle aged man managed a few words before ushering his beloved general to rest under a tree.

“Zilong, you've worked hard…”

Zhao Yun nodded slightly by these words. A powerful wave of lightheadedness attacking him from every side.

No, he screamed internally, Master and the men are not completely safe yet; Cao Cao’s troops can be here any moment. I must not fall!

Struggling to look strong, he was walked to a tree by Liu Bei. Sitting down with a gentle sigh, he heard his master ordering others to take good care of him. Zhao Yun reminded himself not to let down his guard.


The general leaned against the tree and looked terribly tired and quite pale. His face, no, his whole body, was a mess. Blood, dried and fresh, was everywhere. Sweat covered his head as the now-scarlet silver helmet was taken off. It seemed he had washed his hair, just more carelessly than usual. He told the men not to take off his armor and don’t worry about him too much. He asked for water, however, and someone donated a canteen. The general pulled out a piece of cloth from his belt and, wetting it using a few drops of water, wiped his face absentmindedly. He drank the remaining water at once and let out a sigh.

“General, are you alright?”

Zhao Qing, a very lucky soldier who survived the battle of Chang Ban with only minor wounds, was Zhao Yun’s close friend and trusted comrade. They first met in Gongsun Zan’s army, when Zhao Yun was a lieutenant colonel of cavalry and Zhao Qing a new recruit. By some miracle, he happened to serve under the young officer’s flag. The two men, all in their late teens and sharing the same last name, Zhao, quickly became good friends.

Zhao Yun and Zhao Qing were separated when the former left Gongsun Zan. The latter left the army shortly after and searched tirelessly for the man he considered a brother. Eventually, he found the place named Gu Cheng and met Zhao Yun there. After they reunited, it was agreed that Zhao Qing would serve as Zhao Yun’s close assistant, which delighted them both. Since then, a silver figure was accompanied by a brown one. However, since Zhao Yun preferred doing things solitarily, Zhao Qing did not get the job of a servant. More often, he was assigned a small troop. In the eve of the battle of Chang Ban, Zhao Qing, as usual, rode closely by Zhao Yun’s side. A few minutes after the massive assault, he was thrown off his horse. He remembered Zhao Yun told him something like “always play defense, attack only when necessary”, so the only injury he received was some cuts on his forearms from protecting his head. Now, naturally, he was to help the general get more comfortable.

As he tended to the tired warrior, he pondered in his mind how exhausted Zhao Yun could possibly be and why. Surely he never saw the general since yesterday afternoon, but obviously not everyone could stay together in such chaos. From the amount of blood on the general’s body, Zhao Qing imagined how he had fought over the past hours. The general must have been through a lot, more than I can imagine, concluded the young soldier in the end.

“I’m fine.”

It was a hoarse, weak voice Zhao Qing rarely heard of. The general seemed to notice the slightly knitted brows and worried gaze. He straightened himself against the tree. Zhao Qing decided to prepare a hearty bath for him when they reached whatever place they were going to.


Ha, they retreated! Thought Zhang Fei gleefully, I bet they’ll never come back.

After frightening off Cao Cao’s army, Zhang Fei, full of pride and excitement, order the bridge to be destroyed. He then collected his troops and headed back to Liu Bei. Done with his share of quibble, he went behind the trees to get a little rest as the other men prepared to leave--or to flee from Cao Cao until they have no road in front of them?

He saw Zhao Yun sitting upright against a tree, eyes half closed as if taking a nap. Not dare to disturb him, Zhang Fei ordered the men around to get ready for the journey. Just as he was talking, Zhao Yun opened his eyes, noticed Zhang Fei, and struggled to get up. Zhao Qing sprang up to help him. Seeing how labored it was for his “fourth brother” to even stand up, Zhang Fei felt a pang of guilt. He desperately wanted to say sorry for what he previously assumed Zhao Yun of committing. But he only managed to lay a hand on the man’s shoulder, murmur a low “let’s go”, and watch him fetch his horse and spear.


The sky was rotating above his head and the ground wiggling below his feet. Every move brought intense discomfort to every single bone he had. His mouth was still very dry despite the mouthfuls of water, and it tasted obnoxious--dirt, sweat, even a bit metallic… … Zhao Yun knew that was NOT good. Not willing to admit it, however, he put on his helmet, mounted his horse, and was ready, as well as he could, for whatever facing him ahead. He made sure the men were ready, too.

Liu Bei, Zhang Fei, and some other men such as Mi Zhu organized the broken little party and headed toward the road, hoping Zhuge Liang and Guan Yu would join them. Zhao Yun volunteered to take up the rear guard, as he noticed there was no one there, and Liu Bei agreed. He knew his state was beyond “very tired”, but the duty before him was greater than anything else. Zhao Yun squeezed out, for the unknown-th time, the little energy left in him, and started the painful journey.

He had no idea how much time had passed, considering his constant effort of keeping his mind clear, but suddenly to his ears came distance shouts and battle whoops. Cao Cao’s army was after them! He turned on his fighting mode instinctively. He heard Liu Bei shouting orders and his name being called with the duty of facing the enemy. Zhao Yun allowed no hesitation. He grabbed his spear tight and turned his horse around.

Just then, a troop of fresh soldiers emerged from the woods. The leader had a long, thick beard hanging until the waist, almond eyes, and eyebrows like resting silkworms.

“Cao Cao, I’ve been waiting for you for quite a while!”

Zhao Yun watched in relief as Cao Cao’s army retreated in fear with the commander in chief yelling “a trap by Kongming again!”, and was thankful that his master and the men were unharmed. Cold sweat covered his body and the painful dizziness returned. Fighting them off as bravely as he dealt with the enemy, Zhao Yun tried not to show any signs of his discomforts--even that had became increasingly difficult. He knew it was certainly not the best time to let the already-ground-low morale get lower. They needed it, the soldiers to fight off any aggressor and the civilians to keep them from giving up. Zhao Yun told himself to always keep this in mind as the procession dragged their way forward.


The wind blew gracefully and the sun spilled a splendid gradient on the ripples. Zhuge Liang waved his feather fan casually along with the damp breeze, the edge of his clothes flapping gently. His facial expression remained calm throughout the voyage from Jiang Xia, but his inner organs were filled with all sorts of tastes. He felt bitter about being attacked so brutally, sour after seeing so many people losing their lives but himself unable to help, spicy when recognizing the reality of everything, salty when thinking about the uncertainty of his master’s arrival, and sweet for being able to help to the best of his ability. Anyway, he was confident that things would not simply end here. There was still a long journey to go--a journey of a great dynasty.

His heart leaped with excitement as the battleships got nearer to the shore and the weary men’s figures became clear. He heard the drum rolling and horns blasting under the command of the Young Lord, Liu Qi. He quietly observed the men got shocked. Grinning from ear to ear, Kongming yelled, waving his fan, completely out of character.

“Master, everybody, Kongming is here to welcome you! Please get on the ships!”

He enjoyed the cheers he received from the crowd. As the ships hauled to a stop, Liu Bei and all of his men, soldiers and civilians alike, scrambled on board. Zhuge Liang received them accordingly.

He noticed Zhao Yun’s unusually white face as the latter smiled and nodded his greetings.


Kongming has arrived, what else is there to worry? On the deck, Zhao Yun stood behind Zhang Fei, trying to pay attention to the conversation between Liu Bei, Zhuge Liang, and Liu Qi. He knew the danger was over. No armies would be chasing them, no troops trying to slaughter everyone in sight, and no worries for not accomplishing his duty. Pain, blood loss, extreme fatigue, hunger, thirst, and sleep deprivation finally struck him hard. His vision clouded, fading in and out. He struggled, once again, to stay awake. However, this time, his strength gave in to the darkness.

He felt his body falling backwards. Hands came into contact and catching him before he hit the ground. He felt being lowered tenderly onto the wooden deck with a warm cushion supporting his head. He heard voices calling his name, begging him to hold on. But he knew he could hold on no more. The world dissolved into nothing.


The person in Guan Yu’s arms went limp. The helmet was removed and armor loosened as the medic was summoned. His friend was warm--a bit too warm. The eyes were shut as if sealed; the pallid lips, stained with dried blood, were closed tightly as well. Guan Yu thought the face was made of white wax. He despairingly searched for signs that indicated Zhao Yun was not in a serious situation but was in vain. The man’s chest rose and fell so feebly that Guan Yu feared for the worse. However, his body temperature was strangely high.

The medic arrived shortly, looked at the fainted general, and felt under his nose. Guan Yu’s heart twitched. As he took Zhao Yun’s pulse, the medic was surrounded by anxious, inquiring looks, not particularly from Liu Bei but from Guan Yu as well.

After joining the party, the two brothers exchanged information. Guan Yu learned that Lady Mi died and Adou would too if there wasn’t Zhao Yun. While sighing over the tragic fate, he was moved by the unwavering loyalty and courage in what his “fourth brother” had accomplished. He turned around, wanting to give Zilong a wholehearted praise and a friendly slap on the shoulder, but looked into a terribly pale face instead. Concerned, he asked if he was alright. The answer was a yes, but Guan Yu, who had a meticulous heart, knew there was more than that. Nevertheless, he did not say a word about this when they met Zhuge Liang.

Guan Yu felt extremely responsible. He should have told Kongming, or at least his brother, how unwell Zilong looked. None of these would have happened! He made a silent promise to look after his unconscious brother to the best of his ability when he and Yide carefully lifted him up and headed for the cabin.


How in the world could this happen!?

Zhuge Liang scolded himself harshly.

How can I ever NOT notice his poor condition?!

Since they became acquainted, Kongming was aware of how a quiet, reserved person Zhao Yun happened to be. When Guan Yu and Zhang Fei were sneering disdainfully and skeptical of their new strategist’s abilities, Zhao Yun never said a word. He was the white and silver shadow of the meeting room. The clear answers to Kongming's orders reminded people of his existence. Kongming couldn’t think of a time when he uttered an unnecessary word or made a superfluous move. Everyone who talked to him was received by a calm, gentle voice that was supposed to belong to a scholar. The dark, shining eyes were always looking slightly downwards, with the deepness of an undisturbed lake under the moonlight. The bushy eyebrows were lowered modestly; the delicate lips were closed; and the expression on the fair face was tranquil. But his posture was erect and he stood with the imposing manner of a towering pine tree tasted thousands of spring dews and winter blizzards, indestructible and silently blending into its surroundings.

In times of battle, however, the graceful, tender general was nowhere to be found. Taking his place was an intimidating warrior, whose eyes glistened with chilling, threatening beams and expressions revealing unfaltering valor. Hands that rested contently by his sides became the terrifying power source of the lethal spear. It slashed and struck like a silver, fearsome dragon from the sky, soaring valiantly and with perfect ease among the enemies. The mouth called out order after order to ensure the safety of his troops and to keep them well-organized.

Kongming was also surprised at how warmhearted and caring the general was. To the soldiers he always gave them soothing words of encouragement. He charged in the forefront of his troops at every battle. The wounded received consolations while soundless tears were shed for the dead. Zhuge Liang had to question his believe of "you become emotionally numb before, during, and after combat."

As usual, Zilong didn’t utter a word after giving out orders and watching the somewhat organized troops went on board. He didn’t need to talk, since the Master explained everything, so he stayed silently by their sides. Busying himself with the matter in discussion with Master and Lord Liu Qi, Kongming naturally ignored the general. Of course he knew Zhao Yun looked pale and tired and covered with blood, but he didn’t put much thought on that. It’s perfectly normal for generals to be worn out and dirty after a battle, he thought. What he didn’t know was what Zilong had experienced. It was a story only the warrior could tell.

And now the imposing general was unconscious and carried away with great care. His sweat-soaked head was supported by Guan Yu’s left arm. The other arm was under his upper back. Zhang Fei was holding the waist and legs and the ashen hands were now dangling loosely by his side.

The strategist followed Yunchang and Yide, along with Liu Bei, Liu Qi, and the surgeon, to the tiny cabin. Intended for the night guards, it had no other than one bed in the middle of it. Towel and water basin were fetched and the surgeon approached the general. Kongming began to tremble inwardly.

The surgeon bowed low.

Gravely, they turned and exited the cabin, leaving Zhao Yun in the hands of the medic and two helpers.


**** Flashback ****

It was a fresh, cool morning. The rain that had continued for the entire yesterday finally grew bored and stopped itself. A timid sun peeked from the thin clouds on the horizon, painting a brilliant light yellow on everything within its touch. There was still dampness in the air, and Liu Bei strolled lightly between the orderly rows of tents. A large, white flag with two red characters “公孫”on it flew with pride among smaller flags of the same color with the word “趙” standing out remarkably. A few soldiers were already up to prepare breakfast and look after the horses. Most part of the camp was quiet. Although he wasn’t very into books, Liu Bei had a fine memory. Breathing in the refreshingly moist air, he couldn’t help recollecting the events several days earlier.

Screams and clangs of metals were ahead of him. He rode near the muddy chaos and saw a rather familiar scene.

A general on his horse was fending off the approaching enemy soldiers with his spear. Clearly, the tightly formed circle around him and his outnumbered cavalries were closing in with rapid rate. Liu Bei expected the general to be stabbed and killed in five minutes.

He decided to help.

But the situation turned out to be different than what he had thought.

The circle loosened itself! The innermost layer collapsed and other layers backed down several steps.

It looked like the general wasn't someone ordinary. Liu Bei decided to help anyway. After all, he identified the general’s color as part of his friend’s army. “Friends need to help each other,” was one of his principles. So he charged into the mess.

It was an intense combat. His two brothers fought bravely and so did the general.

Casualties were counted and troops were reorganized. To his delight, Liu Bei finally met his friend.

Gongsun Zan introduced the general to the three brothers.

Liu Bei saw him as a piece of cloud--silver armor, helmet, and weapon, white cloak and horse.

The general bowed and said his greetings in a gentle but firm voice.

“My name is Zhao Yun, courtesy Zilong, native of Changshan. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I am Liu Bei, or Xuande. This is my second brother, Guan Yu, courtesy Yunchang, and third brother, Zhang Fei, courtesy Yide. We are glad to meet you as well.”

Liu Bei was even more shocked when the general lifted his head and stand face to face with him.

He was only a little more than a boy!

Liu Bei wondered why didn’t he notice this amazing fact before. Maybe he focused too much on the battle. And maybe he couldn’t see his face clearly, as it was decorated with mud speckles.

It was just unbelievable! A person so young and delicate was already leading his troops against massive enemy forces?! He had thick eyebrows, but not as sharp as Yunchang’s. The big, spirited eyes were dark as ink but shining with intense energy.

But it turned out that Zhao Yun was less than a general; he was only a lieutenant colonel.

That didn’t matter. Liu Bei was already feeling very fond of the boy.

It seemed that the young officer associated with Liu Bei and his brothers quite comfortably. On their way back to the headquarters, they chatted warmly with each other, riding side by side.

“You did really well today!”

“Thank you, sir. Your reinforcement was very crucial.”

“We were just giving you a hand. Your martial art skills are outstanding!"

“I am flattered, sir.”

“Don’t say that! If my brother said you are, you really are!”

“If you don’t mind, I am curious--how old are you?”

“I turned nineteen last month, sir.”

“What?!! You’re so young!”

“Yeah, how did you do this? It must be hard at first, right?”

“Um, yes, sir. I joined the army last year.”

“Wow! That’s awesome!”

“Thank you, sir.”

He talked little and in a quiet, polite tone, unlike Yide.

Gongsun Zan was a kind person indeed. He must have noticed the friendship between Liu Bei and Zhao Yun before assigning Liu Bei to camp next to Zhao Yun’s cavalry company.

During dinner time the four men sat together in a circle. Between battles, there would be no fancy dinner in colossal tent.

The conversation went on. Liu Bei knew that Zhao Yun was chosen as the captain of the local militia in Changshan. He and his little army joined Yuan Shao’s force later but he eventually left. After saving Gongsun Zan’s life from Yan Liang and Wen Chou, he was formally recruited by the commander-in-chief.

Liu Bei also learned that Zhao Yun initially studied martial arts for a better health. He was not born with a strong body, just like his older brother. After promising their dying parents to take good care of the child, his brother searched relentlessly for ways to improve Zhao Yun’s health. The delicate boy ended up calling their neighbor, the crazy old man with white beard, teacher. But the old man wasn’t crazy. After several hardworking years, not only Zhao Yun’s health improved but he also acquired fierce martial art skills and decent literary understandings--although Zhao Yun didn’t say it that way.

Just then, Liu Bei reached the tent where the cavalry officer was supposed to be staying in.

“Zilong?” No one answered.

Parting the flaps with one hand, he looked inside. He didn’t really expect to find Zhao Yun sleeping, as last morning he was caught practicing martial arts before ANYONE was up--except Liu Bei, who went to the bathroom.

On the farther side of the tent, the slender young man was facing away from the entrance, reading a book. He was so absorbed by it that he didn’t even notice Liu Bei calling him. Not wanting to disturb the deeply-concentrated reader, Liu Bei exited the tent quiet as a mouse.

This boy will certainly accomplish great deeds.

**** End flashback ****


It took more than thirty minutes for the door to open; they didn’t reach Jiang Xia yet. The medic emerged from the dark room and bowed again.

“How is he? Is he out of danger?” Kongming voiced everyone’s thoughts.

“I tried my best, sir, but he is not entirely yet.”

“May we see him?”

“Uh, definitely, sir. But, with respect, he had yet come to his senses.”

With these words, the medic let the troubled people into the little cabin. There he was, on the bed, covered by a thin blanket in the middle of the room. White as paper was his face, wiped clean; the arid lips were slightly parted and absent of the normal red; long hair lay loose on the pillow. The room smelled of dry wood, herbal medicine, and...blood.

Liu Bei burst into tears and rushed to the general’s side. Clasping the limp hand into his, the tender-hearted leader uttered Zhao Yun’s name over and over, words shattered by sobs. How he wished his general could open his eyes and smile at him, like those mornings when the camp was so crowded that they had to sleep together in one bed. How he wished the hands could squeeze his own, like that afternoon when he was leaving Gongsun Zan’s base. But all these were in vain. The general was as motionless as if he was dead. But Liu Bei was sure he was not: the hand was feverish.


Tears galloped down like waterfalls.


The fist was clutched and eyes bulged. Zhang Fei didn’t really like his brother unleashing his emotions in front of everyone, but he felt like doing the same.


He just couldn’t allow his comrade to be in that state. From all he could remember, Zilong remained a figure flourished with vitality. Never in his life had he seen him lying there so helplessly. Not even when he was ill back then; he remembered the unfaltering determination between the bushy eyebrows contorted in anguish. Now, the once steadfast facial features were totally drained of life.

Zhang Fei fought the urge to shake Zhao Yun’s consciousness back from whatever place it might be. Wondering what his red-faced brother might do, he looked at Guan Yu’s direction. In the growing darkness, he thought he had caught a sparkling drop falling...


“Is he seriously injured? Are there any broken bones?” Once again, Kongming voiced the concerned of the small crowd. He had to suppress the lump in his throat, though.

“Pretty bad, sir, but no broken bones...” Replied the medic frankly. He paused. The strategist encouraged him to continue.

“General Zhao had lost a large quantity of blood and suffered several deep cuts, but they didn’t get cleaned fast enough… The worse part for him is the fatigue. I had never seen a person with that little amount of energy left in him.”

The crease between Kongming’s brows deepened. “When will he wake up?” The voice was a bit shaky.

“It depends on the general’s own strength and will. I have done all I can. I apologize, sir.”

Night closed in unnoticed. A sudden gush of wind rushed by, and there came a cry of a night owl.


The general’s temperature kept on rising. His breath was like the steam from a dry pot! I had to re-wet his towel every TEN minutes! Why is he so pale? And why is he not stirring, at all?? Is he going to live through this? Please, general, do!

Zhao Qing sat on a chair beside Zhao Yun’s bed, face in his hands. Everything was quiet, except for the labored breath coming from the wounded man.

A huge rock seemed to strike him when he received the distressing news. After begging on his knees, he was permitted to stay with the general when they reached Jiang Xia. He knew they needed help with the troops and civilians out there, but the general was more important than anything else. Vividly, he remembered losing his parents one by one, then his sister, and then his younger brother. Zhao Yun, his unofficial adopted brother, brought him back from the deep well of traumatic memories. Life for him would end too if it ended for the general.

It’s an hour past midnight.

He straightened himself and tried Zhao Yun’s temperature for perhaps the hundredth time. As hot as ever. He soaked a piece of cloth in the basin and proceeded to wipe the general’s hands and feet--this was the twentieth time he did so--as ordered by the doctor. The badge-covered body sent piercing daggers into his heart every time he looked at it.

Zhao Qing sank into his chair once again after everything was done. The polished wooden surface felt hard as stone. Suddenly, without warning, the unconscious general began to gasp for air, his mouth half opened. Panic-stricken, the timid caretaker froze in place. Slowly, the head tiled backwards and white substances oozed from the lips. Coming to his senses, Zhao Qing raced for the doctor.

Three minutes later, the doctor arrived in great haste. Without hesitating, he grabbed his bag, torn out the needles, and placed them on several parts of the burning body. Zhao Yun went limp again.

The doctor offered to stay in the room for the rest of the night. Zhao Qing finally dozed off by four o’clock; it had been an awfully hard day for him.

He woke with a start next morning. Dawn had came not long before and cast its first light on the face in bed; no doctor was in sight. Zhao Qing rushed to his general. He was in the exact same position as last night, the towel still on his forehead. But his color seemed different. Fears for the worse attacked him.

Imagine the relief when he discovered the balanced heaving of the chest! How tears of joy wet his clothes when he discovered the fever was breaking! The hand no longer felt iron-hot but mildly warm. Just then, someone knocked the door.


He felt somebody gently stroking his hand. He wanted to open his eyes, but not before a sweet drowsiness embraced him.

Zhao Yun didn’t know how much time had passed before awareness kicked in again. He tried to move, and giant waves of pain ambushed him. Inhaling and exhaling slowly to alleviate them, he wondered what had happened. The last thing in his memories was falling backwards. He opened his eyes.

Yunchang was sitting by his side. A smile formed on the tan-colored face.

Slightly turning his head, Zilong scanned the room. Directly in front of his bed were two opened windows with rays of sunlight coming through them. A desk was at the end of the wall. What an elegant little room. The last place he had been was less than one thousandth time as cozy.

“Where am I?” The hoarseness surprised him.

“We are at Jiang Xia now, Zilong. You have slept for three days.” There was a unique tenderness in that voice.

“Is everyone alright? How is Master doing?”

“He is fine, don’t worry.” Yunchang came to an abrupt stop. From his bed, Zilong saw the outline of his eyes turning red. “You scared us death……”

Zhao Yun's heart jerked; he was touched by the care and love they must have given him. He struggled to get up, only to be held down with two strong hands by the shoulders.

“You are still too weak.”


Indeed, he was very weak--he had to catch his breath after those few movements.

“Sleep some more.”

“Alright.” He closed his eyes obediently. Despite the dull pains from his body, Zhao Yun soon drifted off into a peaceful recuperating sleep.


It was already in the afternoon when Zhao Yun woke up again. Liu Bei and Kongming were sitting beside his bed.

“Good afternoon, Zilong. How are you feeling?” Asked the strategist.

Smiling, Zhao Yun told him he was feeling okay.

“Do you want some water?”

“Yes, please.”

“Don’t sit up.”

“Zilong, you really did a wonderful job…” Kongming told him after the satisfying drink. With Zhao Yun in this condition, the strategist was suddenly deprived of his usual eloquence.

“I will do my best to fulfill your compliment, sir.”

Someone knocked at the door. A soldier entered and informed them that there was a matter requiring Kongming to attend to immdiately. The latter left after apologizing.

Holding the hand in his, Liu Bei was speechless. He remembered doing the same on the ship, when the general was in a feverish coma; he remembered turning back and, without a second thought, demanding Zhao Yun to face the enemy; he remembered seeing the red figure galloping towards him; he remembered sighing in relief when he noticed Zhao Yun fighting beside him among the vast enemy troops; he remembered ordering the silver shadow to protect his family; moreover, he remembered the hard works Zhao Yun had done for him from the moment they reunited at the mountain, the sweat and blood he shed for the cause they all believed in, and the youth he sacrificed for staying by his side regardless of any misfortunes.

Yet what did he do for him? How did he repay him? How COULD he repay him after all? By just crying like a baby?

Liu Bei’s lips trembled. In his mind was the word he have never told Zhao Yun, a faithful friend who was willing to give his life at any moment for the man he called Master.

“Thank you, Zilong.”

Warm tears and a squeeze of his hand worth more than any replies.
-V. Zhang
I consider myself not good at everything. Apologizes.
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Re: Fanfic Fanfare!

Unread postby Yaoyu » Sat Mar 02, 2019 9:49 am

I've been writing a little bit of alternate history fanfiction, since a lot of women's writings were destroyed by 4th century Confucian scholars who wanted to control the "men plow, women weave" narrative. So I made an attempt at re-creating what these women may have written and filled in some of the gaps in my favourite RotTK chapters.

Full text:

Lady Bian’s Bad Goblin


It can be inferred that one of Huaiyao’s kittens was given to Lady Jin as an apology. It is unknown if this is the same Lady Jin who avenged the death of Cao Cao’s father in 193. Presumably, the holes were made by the aforementioned cat.
You can read my alternate history RotTK fanfiction here.
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