Chapter 001: He Who Conquers Himself Is Truly Strong

The fifth year of Jianxing in Shu, Qingming at Yangping Mountain, Hanzhong.

Spring winds, almost imperceptibly, had crossed over the great Daba Mountains, painting the rolling hills in vibrant green. Patches upon patches of golden rapeseed blossoms dotted the valleys like vivid embroidery on a green brocade of Shu, dazzling and bright.

Amid this sea of rapeseed on the hillside, two boys were running. The one in front was about twelve or thirteen, the one behind around seventeen or eighteen. Their faces bore some resemblance, but the younger boy was sturdy as a little tiger, bounding with endless energy. He dashed lightly over the wild hills, occasionally glancing back at his breathless companion, sometimes laughing triumphantly.

“Brother, hurry up!” He doubled back, grabbing the elder who looked ready to collapse, his grin so wide it revealed his molars. “You’re tired, aren’t you? How about we rest a bit?”

“No… I can’t.” The older boy was drenched in sweat, his face flushed crimson, gasping for breath, his steps so heavy he could barely lift his legs. If not for the support, he would have fallen into the fields by the road. Though utterly exhausted, he refused to give in, pushing aside his brother’s hand, gritting his teeth: “I’ll only rest when I reach the top. Even if I have to crawl… I’ll crawl up myself.”

“Heh, brother, you’re like a different person after your illness. If you’d been this tough before, you’d be even sturdier than our eldest now.”

The boy chuckled, a little pleased with himself, but his laughter was hoarse for lack of breath. He pumped his arms and forged ahead. The tigerish youth scratched his head and trailed after him easily.

They were brothers. The elder was Wei Ba, second son of Wei Yan, General Who Guards the North and Prefect of Hanzhong. The younger was Wei Wu, his full brother. Although Wei Ba was the elder and bore such a commanding name, his body was frail—aside from being slightly taller, he was much thinner than his younger brother. From the foot of the hill, it was only a few hundred steps, yet he was already out of breath, nearly collapsing.

Had it been before, he would already be sprawled on the ground, unwilling to rise—or, seeing this slope, he wouldn’t even have considered coming up, much less running. To have run halfway up the hill at a stretch was already the result of several days of perseverance.

Wei Wu watched his brother, who was only a little faster than a snail, and shook his head—puzzled, but mostly pleased. Their father, Wei Yan, was a military man whose rank had been won with the sword. Since birth, they had aspired to become mighty generals like him. Both he and their eldest brother Wei Feng had inherited their father’s strength and martial skill. Only the second brother, Wei Ba, had always been sickly—a frail child who struggled even to walk, let alone train in arms, which earned him little favor from their father. Only days ago, he’d been gravely ill, nearly passing away. After recovering, perhaps moved by the weakness of his body and the fear he’d not live to adulthood, he’d resolved to begin training.

This was a change that delighted Wei Wu. Even if his brother had little hope of becoming a great warrior, as long as he was not so frail as to be blown away by a breeze, it was something to be glad about.

Wei Wu caught up, walking beside Wei Ba, peering at his brother’s face, red as if it could bleed, and listening to his labored breathing with concern. “Brother, if you’re tired, let’s rest a bit. Don’t let the wind make it worse.”

Wei Ba turned to look at Wei Wu. He saw genuine concern in his brother’s eyes, and warmth flooded his heart—then he looked away, a little guilty. He dared not meet his brother’s gaze for long, for he was no longer the same Wei Ba.

Or rather, though his body was still Wei Ba’s, his soul came from eighteen centuries in the future. He had been as ordinary as could be—an unremarkable university, a nondescript engineering major, specializing in agricultural machinery, which was so unpopular he couldn’t find a job. Plain in looks, neither tall nor handsome, and certainly not rich—houses and cars were things he’d never had. Luckless in love, too—after eighteen failed blind dates, he’d finally met a girl willing to talk to him, but one night’s sleep later, he awoke in the Three Kingdoms era, inhabiting the body of an equally overlooked youth.

At first, he felt wronged—Heaven was too unfair, even reincarnation didn’t grant him an easier life. The Wei family seemed powerful now: Wei Yan, as General Who Guards the North and Prefect of Hanzhong, was one of the few formidable generals left in Shu Han following the deaths of the Five Tiger Generals, second only to Zhao Yun. In Hanzhong, he was an undisputed local tyrant. But from his vantage as someone from a thousand years hence, he knew the Wei family’s glory would not last. Soon, Zhuge Liang would lead the Northern Expeditions—six campaigns into the Qishan mountains—and Wei Yan, for all his prowess, would be little more than a chicken rib, never truly entrusted on his own. Worse still, after Zhuge Liang’s death at Wuzhang Plains, not even the scraps were left; he’d be killed by Ma Dai in a power struggle with Yang Yi, earning eternal infamy as the traitor with the “rebel’s bump.”

All told, reincarnation had bought him only a few more years, at the cost of a most wretched death. Anyone in his place would have cursed the heavens.

While bedridden, reflecting on his ordinary life, Wei Ba lamented his misfortune—why could others shine while he remained mediocre? But after countless bouts of self-justification, he reached the opposite conclusion.

He hadn’t received more than others because he’d never given more than others. In high school, while classmates buried themselves in study, he’d barely gone through the motions; so while others entered prestigious universities and lively majors, he ended up in an ordinary school with a generic major. At university, while others honed their skills for life ahead, he’d idled away his days—so others earned certificates and found good jobs, while he had only a diploma, not even a bachelor’s degree, and naturally couldn’t land a decent job. Even when working, while others worked overtime to gain experience, he was content with clocking in and out on time, and when promotion came, it never went to him.

This realization stunned Wei Ba for a long time. His former resentment slowly turned to deep self-reproach. Destiny might be unknowable, but waiting for pies to fall from the sky was sheer folly. Rather than curse Heaven’s unfairness, it was better to act, to change fate through one’s own effort. After all, he still possessed knowledge far beyond this age, and even if nothing else, he knew a little more about the coming twists of history.

The next day, he climbed from his sickbed and began to exercise—his first step toward changing his fate. In any age, after all, the body is the capital of revolution.

People are usually giants in words but dwarfs in action. In his previous life, he’d resolved to exercise many times, but never lasted more than two days. This time, his mindset had fundamentally changed, and he broke his old record. Today was the fifth day.

In the past, he’d have lain down by now and never returned. But if he wanted to change his fate, he couldn’t give up. As he’d told Wei Wu, even if he had to crawl, he’d get to the top.

He might not yet overcome others—even his brother, four or five years his junior, could beat him single-handedly—but he could overcome himself. The books said it: only those who can conquer themselves are truly strong. To become strong, he first had to conquer his own laziness and weakness, to grasp fate by the throat.

Panting, throat burning, chest aching, heart pounding so violently it seemed ready to give out, legs heavy as lead—every step squeezed out his last reserves of strength as he stared at the distant hilltop, which seemed forever out of reach.

“Brother, let me help you,” Wei Wu said softly, blinking, unable to bear the sight.

“No… need.” Wei Ba shook his head with difficulty—even that small gesture took all his effort, his steps growing more ragged. He was deeply grateful for his brother’s kindness, but he knew that if he accepted help now, tomorrow he would need even more.

Suppressing the urge to give up, he mustered the last bit of his courage and pressed on.

Two hundred steps to the summit—it seemed impossibly far. When he finally reached it, his spirit relaxed, his legs buckled, and he collapsed, unable even to turn over. Sweat soaked his clothes; some nameless bug climbed his hand, but he hadn’t the strength to brush it off. A fly could have landed in his open mouth and he wouldn’t have cared.

Too tired, unbearably tired—it was this hard just to change his body, let alone his fate. Gasping for breath, he mocked himself: They say if life could start over, at least half would become great men. I’ve been reborn, but greatness still seems out of reach.

“Well done, brother!” Wei Wu caught up, raising his thumb theatrically. “You did better than yesterday!”

Wei Ba’s face twitched, but he laughed. Clumsy as Wei Wu’s encouragement was, he enjoyed this feeling. In his previous life he’d been an only child, never knowing the feeling of brothers. In this life he had an elder brother and several younger siblings. Heaven, it seemed, had shown a little mercy—at least he’d been granted this small blessing.

“Just wait, one day I’ll be stronger than you.”

Wei Wu stood hands on hips, facing the wind like a hero surveying the land. Hearing this, he winked and laughed, clearly humoring his brother out of love. Wei Ba, breathing more evenly now, rolled over and lay on his back in the grass, gazing up at the blue sky and white clouds, marveling at this unpolluted nature, and burst out laughing.

“Ah Wu, do you know your name is really impressive?”

Wei Wu sat beside him, pulled a leather water flask from his belt, and handed it over. “Have a drink. Brother, you’re teasing again. I don’t even have a courtesy name yet, and my name isn’t as impressive as yours. Even compared to our eldest, it’s a bit lacking. How about we swap names?”

Wei Ba chuckled, “Silly boy, what do you know? My name may sound domineering, but your name, Wu, is truly remarkable. Think about it—what emperors have been called Wu? The Han had Emperor Wu, Wei had Emperor Wu. Weren’t they the most powerful men of their time?”

Wei Wu scratched his head, “Emperor Xiaowu was great, but who was Emperor Wu of Wei?”

Wei Ba rolled his eyes. Wei Wu was strong and skilled, but wouldn’t study—he didn’t even know who the Emperor Wu of Wei was.

“You know Cao Cao?”

“That old villain? Of course. Wait, was he called Emperor Wu of Wei?”

“Of course. Cao Pi was Emperor Wen of Wei; his son Cao Rui isn’t dead yet, so you can’t call him Emperor Wu.”

“Well, I don’t agree. That old villain Cao Cao wasn’t so great. The one I admire most is Lord Guan, though he never even got a posthumous title.”

“Guan Yu?”

“Of course.” At Guan Yu’s name, Wei Wu’s eyes sparkled. He nudged his brother, “Don’t you want to be a great general like Lord Guan?”

“Not at all! I don’t want to end up beheaded like him.” Wei Ba shrugged, took another drink to soothe his parched throat, and said earnestly, “Ah Wu, reckless bravery is worthless. If you want to be a general, be a wise one. Don’t think martial skill alone will make you famous. At best, that makes you a fighting general, never a great one, and such men rarely end well—not just Guan Yu, but Zhang Fei, Huang Zhong, and especially Ma Chao. He was skilled, but in the end, wasn’t he hounded like a stray dog, unable to return home, dying in a foreign land? A general should be like Cao Cao—or, failing that, like General Zhao Yun…”

“So, the son of the General Who Guards the North scorns Lord Guan and Lord Zhang, and most admires the traitor Cao?” A chilly voice interrupted Wei Ba’s lesson from nearby.