Chapter Three: I Want to Become a Scholar

After all, he was her own son—how could Madame Xu possibly bring herself to strike Xu Fu with a stone pillow?

Besides, after Xu Kang’s intervention, much of her anger had already dissipated. In the end, she merely scolded Xu Fu a few times and let him off.

As for Xu Kang, the peacemaker, not only did Madame Xu refrain from hitting him, she couldn’t even bring herself to utter a harsh word. She simply gave him an exasperated glare before returning to her room with her maid, Little Jade, to rest.

Once she was gone, Xu Fu, who had narrowly escaped punishment, finally realized what had happened. Grinning widely, he turned to Xu Kang and gave him a thumbs-up.

“Heh, Second Brother, you’re really something! To think you could come up with a trick like that. If only you’d thought of it sooner, I wouldn’t have been beaten so much over the years… Ouch, those smacks from Mother just now really hurt!”

“You deserved it!” Xu Kang shot back, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He then bent to pick up the roast leg of lamb that had fallen to the floor.

When Madame Xu had knocked it aside earlier, the meat had stayed wrapped in lotus leaves, saving Xu Kang the trouble of cleaning it. He tore off a piece and began to eat.

Seeing this, Xu Fu chuckled again. He went to the door, fetched the wine jar left there, and filled the bowl Xu Kang had just used for his medicine to the brim with wine. Unbothered by the dregs, he drank it all in one draught.

Wiping his mouth, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. “Ah… that’s the life. Second Brother, want a bowl?”

“No, thank you,” Xu Kang refused without hesitation. He knew that in this age, the wine was not particularly strong, but it was still not something someone recovering from illness should indulge in.

Xu Fu seemed to realize this as well, and nodded in understanding. “All right. When you’re better, I’ll throw you a proper celebration. I’ll introduce you to some new friends I’ve made in Luoyang—they’re all heroes of the road. What do you think?”

“We’ll see,” Xu Kang replied coolly.

Noticing Xu Kang’s lack of enthusiasm, Xu Fu set his bowl aside, frowning. “Second Brother, I remember you used to admire the wandering knights, always saying you’d become one yourself and right wrongs. Now that we’re in Luoyang, you seem like a different person.”

If only he knew—he wasn’t just a different person; he was an entirely new one!

Of course, he couldn’t say that. Seeing Xu Fu’s puzzled expression, Xu Kang simply smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that I’ve changed, but the world has.”

“The world has changed?” Xu Fu echoed, momentarily stunned. “Are you talking about the Yellow Turban rebels?”

“In a way,” was all Xu Kang said.

The mind of one freshly thrust into a new world was chaotic, and Xu Kang had no desire to say more. He cupped his hands to Xu Fu, suggesting, “It’s getting late. You’ve been busy all day, Brother, you must be tired. You should rest early.”

“Uh…” Xu Fu gave him a strange look, but nodded. “All right, I’ll head back. You’ve only just recovered; get some rest yourself. I’ll visit you tomorrow and tell you everything.”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Staring at the now-closed door, Xu Kang sighed deeply. He tossed the half-eaten lamb onto a nearby low table, wiped his hands on a cloth, and began to pace the room.

The bizarre experience of transmigration was difficult for even the most thick-skinned to accept. More important was the question of how to live—no, how to survive—in this era.

As the old saying goes, “Better to be a dog in peaceful times than a man in troubled ones.” In a chaotic age, survival itself was a luxury, let alone the pursuit of dreams.

Xu Kang had watched his share of historical dramas. Even if he’d never experienced war himself, he was well aware of its horrors. How to survive in this age was the first question he had to answer.

“No matter how capable you are, nothing beats having a strong backer. No matter how talented, it’s better to have a group of loyal subordinates. Rising fast is less important than living long. The workplace is a battlefield—self-positioning and choosing your camp are crucial!”

With that, Xu Kang took stock of himself. Even in this new era, he doubted he possessed the aura of a natural leader who could inspire instant loyalty with a mere display of charisma.

In simple terms, he wasn’t cut out to be the boss.

Since he couldn’t be the boss, the next best thing was to pick the right boss and join the right faction.

Three names sprang instantly to mind—Cao Cao, Liu Bei, and Sun Quan.

Anyone with a modicum of historical knowledge knew that, in the struggle of warlords at the end of the Han Dynasty, the three who laughed last were Cao Cao, Liu Bei, and Sun Quan. After outlasting their rivals, they each established their own power base and ultimately founded the states of Wei, Shu, and Wu—the Three Kingdoms.

Wei, under Cao Cao, commanded the vast north, boasting the strongest armies and the broadest territory.

Wu and Shu were roughly matched in strength—one shielded by the Yangtze, the other by the daunting roads of Shu. These two states kept each other in check, sometimes cooperating, sometimes competing, but together they balanced out mighty Wei, creating the famous tripartite standoff.

To Xu Kang, the ideal “boss” was one of these three, with Sun Quan as his top choice.

Why not Cao Cao or Liu Bei? Xu Kang had his reasons.

First, Cao Cao. Wei was the strongest of the three, but it was also overflowing with talent.

In civil administration, there were Guo Jia, Xun Yu, and Jia Xu; in military prowess, Yu Jin, Zhang Liao, and Xiahou Dun. Second- and third-rate generals and officials abounded. Civil officials were as numerous as the clouds, martial generals as plentiful as rain. If one joined Cao Cao without making a strong impression, one would be just another face in the crowd—a low-level functionary, invisible and unremarkable.

For a transmigrator, that was simply too much of a waste.

Liu Bei, on the other hand, was the opposite. He had the super strategist Zhuge Liang, and top-tier generals like Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhao Yun, but was sorely lacking in middle management.

It was as if Liu Bei were the chairman of a vast company, Zhuge Liang the CEO and senior president, with Guan Yu and Zhang Fei as presidents, general managers, and major shareholders. But the department heads, managers, and supervisors were all in short supply.

Thus, anyone with a modicum of competence who joined Liu Bei’s camp would be heavily relied upon—perhaps even rise to an executive position and enjoy a brotherly relationship with Emperor Zhaolie, Liu Bei himself.

Such treatment was enviable, but the price was steep—endless toil, perhaps even to death. To follow Liu Bei was to prepare to exhaust oneself, to handle every affair large and small, and eventually, like Zhuge Liang, work oneself into an early grave at Wuzhang Plains.

Unless absolutely necessary, Shu was not an ideal choice.

Compared to Wei and Shu, Wu was a much better option. While Wu was also short on talent, the deficiency wasn’t as severe. Xu Kang believed that, with his superior knowledge and abilities, he could secure a comfortable, high-ranking post and live out his days in ease and security.

Most importantly, Wu, situated in the southeast, was blessed with a strategic location—bordering the river and the sea. Thanks to this, the state of Wu endured until May of 280 AD, when it was finally conquered by the Western Jin.

Now, with the Yellow Turban Rebellion only just beginning, there were still ninety-six years before Wu would fall. Xu Kang doubted he would live to see that day, but if he had a son who was long-lived, perhaps his offspring might witness that historic moment.

All things considered, Xu Kang decided that among Wei, Shu, and Wu, his first choice would be to find a place in Wu, then Wei, with Shu as a last resort.

Having set his sights, the next step was to make them reality—otherwise, they would remain empty dreams.

He remembered how, as a child, he’d agonized over whether to attend Tsinghua or Peking University at home, or Harvard or Oxford abroad. But as he grew up, he realized he’d been overthinking things.

Determined not to let this new chance slip into idle fantasy, Xu Kang resolved to make an effort this time.

The Yellow Turbans were not yet quelled, the warlords had not yet risen. Cao Cao was only a low-ranking cavalry commandant, Liu Bei the straw-sandal seller might have just joined the army, and Sun Quan, future lord of the southeast, was, at present, merely a two-year-old child.

In such a world, if he made the effort, surely he could accomplish something.

So, he decided to set himself a small goal.

“First, I must make a name for myself. I will become a renowned scholar!”