Rather Than Zhang Ran, Zhang Bao’s Eldest Daughter

The Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
A steady seller spanning all of East Asia, still immensely popular even in modern Korea where anti-Chinese sentiment runs high.
There probably aren’t that many Korean men who are completely unfamiliar with the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. For my generation in particular, it was considered essential reading in school days. Needless to say, as a history major, I was well-versed in it.
While I may not have memorized every minute detail and all the minor characters mentioned in just a line or two in the histories, I knew the overall narrative flow, major events and their dates (like the Battle of Red Cliffs), as well as the more renowned figures.
Thanks to this, I was able to quickly grasp my current situation.
If the Battle of Red Cliffs happened last year, then it’s now 209 AD, the 14th year of Jian’an, when Liu Bei had just established his own base by pacifying the Four Frontier Regions of Yi Province – the first territory under his control since the Han dynasty.
And I, Zhang Ran, am the eldest daughter of Zhang Fei, turning 9 this year. The birth year of Zhang Fei’s eldest daughter, the Empress Huangxian, was unrecorded, but it seems she was born right after Zhang Fei married.
Considering the age Lady Wu, Zhang Fei’s wife and Huangxian’s mother, married at….
“Ran-ah, what are you constantly thinking about?”
Pulled from my thoughts by my mother’s chiding voice, I focused my eyes on what was in front of me.
“Pardon me, Mother. It’s been so long since I last saw Father, I was worried he might have been injured…”
My excuse, which wasn’t really an excuse, was met with a booming guffaw.
Following that resounding laughter, there stood a man of towering stature.
The heroic figure considered the protagonist of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Liu Bei’s sworn brother, and a peerless general of the era. And simultaneously, my own father – Zhang Fei regarded me.
He did not have the rugged, bandit-like appearance described in the historical records, nor the exquisite pretty-boy looks rumored. If anything, he was closer to the former – a man who could be aptly described as dashing.
With his thick, powerful features and intense gaze, Zhang Fei truly embodied the quintessence of masculine handsomeness. While my mother Lady Wu was undoubtedly a beauty, with a father like this, Zhang Ran’s own looks were understandable.

“Did you worry your father would return injured? Have no such concerns. There are only two in this world capable of harming me.”
And with his remark that one of them no longer existed, I could guess who the two were. The one gone was likely Lu Bu, while the one still living must be his sworn brother Guan Yu, who shared his peerless reputation.

Boasting prowess matched only by his immense pride, I deeply bowed my head in response to Zhang Fei.
Zhang Fei reached out his large, calloused hand to gently ruffle my unevenly cut hair, before heading inside with his wife.

Only after Zhang Fei left did I release the breath I had been holding, the tension leaving me.
His overwhelming presence was as intense as his striking looks. That aura, that vigor – what I had dismissed as mere exaggeration and poetic descriptions in literature was indeed quite domineering, almost oppressive even, emanating from Zhang Fei’s massive frame.
The formidable warlord at the heart of the Three Kingdoms era, whom I had just met face-to-face as his reborn daughter a week ago, had left me deeply shaken.

‘Can I really do this?’
Even a man like that could not defy the tides of history. Despite Zhang Fei being considered Guan Yu’s equal, and the man they followed being the venerated Liu Bei, hailed as one of the era’s preeminent figures alongside Cao Cao.
So how could my mere presence realistically instigate any meaningful change? Especially in this ancient era where the idea of male supremacy reigned as common sense.

‘Well, it’s not entirely hopeless.’
Knowing the future is a powerful advantage. I may have preferred Napoleon’s wars to the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and studied his life more extensively than the tales of Liu Bei and Guan Yu, but I’m still one of Korea’s Three Kingdoms fanatics to a degree above the average.
If I can prevent the deaths that set off the decline and fall – Guan Yu’s demise that marked the beginning of the end, and Pang Tong’s earlier passing that deprived Shu of its strategic leadership – the future will certainly veer onto a drastically different course.

I clenched my small, delicate hands tightly.
Having admired the great figures who left their marks on history, yearning to etch my own name into the annals, even if just a line. Despite no longer being a man, despite my name having changed, that aspiration burned as bright as ever within me.

‘I can do this.’
To be honest, I feel no patriotism whatsoever towards the Han empire. In fact, with my lingering sense of Korean nationality, I may even feel more affinity for the nascent Goguryeo kingdom.
Then should I simply allow Chinese history to unfold as it did, for the sake of a future Korea? I’m not so sure about that either. Who knows what butterfly effect my contributing to the founding of a unified Chinese dynasty other than the Jin might have?
I decided not to dwell on such musings. No matter how much I fretted, altering history remained an uncertainty with very low odds. My opponent was the Wei – a formidable force that had already conquered the central plains and effectively held hegemony over the realm.
The era of warlords vying for supremacy over the territories had essentially concluded with the Battle of Guandu. Afterwards, it was merely the outskirts of the Shu-Han remnant force flailing in a futile struggle, while the Wei sought to deliver the final blows.
There was one exception – the storm raised by Guan Yu that gave Cao Cao his first real crisis.

But that proved a mere dream within a spring morning, and with it, hope converged to nil.

So I cast aside all concerns. The precious time I had left was too valuable to spend agonizing over an uncertain future.

“I’ve decided.”
What I want to do.
What I must do.
With that resolve, I took a step forward.
One step, a weighty stride inward. Would my request be granted? This era would not be kind to me. Reborn as a woman, I started from not zero, but the negatives.
However, I did have a fortuitous connection to tip the scales in my favor.

“Father. I have a request.”
Zhang Fei. The pillar of a force, and a peerless general symbolizing the age – my father.
“A request?”
Regarding me who had approached him so directly, Zhang Fei asked with a puzzled look. My mother beside him shot me a reproachful glance, but I steadfastly met Zhang Fei’s gaze, unflinching.
“Yes.”
“Speak then.”
Perhaps my resolute manner piqued his interest, as Zhang Fei permitted me to continue. Yet he also subtly exerted his imposing aura, the dominating presence honed through countless battlefields pressing down on me.
I could not falter here. While Zhang Fei is commonly seen as a chivalrous, straightforward, and ardent man, that’s just the romanticized tale. The real Zhang Fei was highly calculating and dispassionate.
He respected the virtuous, but scorned the petty. To gain his approval, I had to prove my worth. If I displayed anything less than his standards, even as his daughter, he would ruthlessly cast me aside.
To overcome the disadvantage of being female, I had to distinguish myself far beyond others.

Mustering all my strength into my eyes, barely suppressing my trembling body, I stated boldly:
“I wish to study martial arts.”
Silence fell. Zhang Fei stared intently at me standing there, while my mother looked on in shock.
The oppressive aura Zhang Fei exuded, as if to dissect my very soul, now took on a menacing intensity compared to earlier.

“Do you speak in earnest?”
Wu (武) – In this era, the meaning carried far more weight than just showing off for others.
It meant the hellish realm where blades clashed and blood spilled, the techniques of slaughter honed to seize victory and survival on the battlefield – that was the martial arts of this age.
Had it been my half-brothers Zhang Bao or Zhang Xiu making this request, Zhang Fei would have gladly accepted them, perhaps even praising them as “truly my sons.”
But I was different from them. The fact that I was female felt like shackles weighing me down.

“Of course I’m serious.”
Strangely, I drew confidence from recalling my half-brothers.
The sickly Zhang Bao and the scholarly Zhang Xiu, more suited to civil governance – neither inherited Zhang Fei’s martial prowess. Yet Zhang Fei, so proud of his own martial arts, must have hoped for at least one child to follow in his footsteps.
Setting aside the eldest son whose frail body led to an early demise, Zhang Fei may not have opposed the second son becoming a civilian official despite valuing literary talents – but there must have been some lingering regret.
Surely he longed for at least one child to cultivate martial arts like himself, to become the vanguard realizing the grand ambition of his sworn brothers – the reunification of the realm and restoration of the Han.
I would fill that void in his heart.

“I am no mere girl. I am the daughter of the peerless Zhang Yidao. Though my two elder brothers excelled in letters over arms and chose a different path, I am different. I will become a peerless warrior succeeding you, Father. I will be the very blade that restores the Han dynasty.”
While rare, female martial artists have indeed existed throughout history.
The tale of Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, is renowned, and even in the Chinese history I currently inhabit, female warriors like Liang Yuanyi left their mark.
Why couldn’t I achieve the same?
Brimming with conviction, I met Zhang Fei’s domineering gaze head-on.

The masculine diction, the audacious attitude, the steadfast resolve – imbuing each word and action with painstaking care, my declaration caught Zhang Fei’s interest.

As Zhang Fei and I faced off in silence, my mother, unable to bear it any longer, finally spoke up:
“Ran-ah, what nonsense is this? How could you possibly take up arms and follow your father into battle? You, husband, say something. Did you not say Ran would be married off to one of Lord Liu’s sons?”
One of Liu Bei’s sons – it seemed I had originally been betrothed to Liu Shan from a young age, likely in consideration of Zhang Fei’s standing.
But I did not wish to conclude my life as Liu Shan’s wife, bearing the mere title of Empress Huangxian recorded in history.
I wanted to leave my new name Zhang Ran not as a passive imperial consort, but as an active martial figure shaping the era.

“I refuse.”
The words slipped out unconsciously.
“There is still Yan. I wish to live not as some pampered lady of the palace, but as a warrior forging the great Han revival on the battlefield.”
Zhang Fei had two daughters – the eldest me, Zhang Ran, and the younger Zhang Yan. And both of us were to marry Liu Shan and become empresses. So even without me, the marriage alliance between Zhang Fei and Liu Bei could still be achieved.

“Do you speak in earnest?”
“Yes, without a shred of falsehood.”
“You may have to forgo grooming that hair you so cherished. The battlefield is no such place as you imagine. Leave now.”
No matter how masculine I acted, in the end this was still a young girl’s body. It seemed Zhang Fei had decided to refuse, releasing his aura as he waved me off in clear dismissal.
In the face of this blatant rejection, I pulled out the dagger I always kept on me.
“You insolent – !”
Zhang Fei’s furrowed brow, my mother’s horrified cry.
Before them, without hesitation, I grasped my long, lustrous hair and swung the dagger.
Sharalak.
Strands scattered in disarray across the room as my hair that had hung past my waist now barely reached my nape.
My mother looked about to faint, agape with eyes wide, while Zhang Fei remarked calmly, as if he had foreseen even this:
“So that is the extent of your resolve.”
“Yes.”
“…….”
Rising abruptly from his seat, Zhang Fei towered before me. Facing his colossal frame at nearly twice my height, all bulging musculature from the years of training, I couldn’t help but feel intimidated despite knowing he was my father.
After appraising me with his gaze, Zhang Fei let out a deep sigh and gently stroked my crudely shorn hair.

“What could have changed you so drastically, seemingly overnight?”
“It is said a moment suffices to conceive ambition, and if seven days pass without meeting a man of purpose again, then one must blink and look anew.”
My apologies to Fan Kuai, but I’ll have to take this classic allusion first. From now on, when the Guan Zhong tale is mentioned, it will be my name Zhang Ran invoked, not Fan Kuai’s. A petty act of revenge against the man whose obsession ruined my dreams of Shu-Han, perhaps.

“Ah yes, ‘If parted seven days, we must meet anew.’ I see you have cultivated not just ambition, but learning as well.”
Zhang Fei deftly plucked the dagger from my hand and neatened my hair, his barbering skills quite impressive – likely from fielding experience.
Returning the sheathed dagger, Zhang Fei spoke:
“Very well. I shall teach you martial arts.”

Success!
With a beaming smile at having passed this crucial first hurdle, my face flushed with joy, prompting a small grin from Zhang Fei before he continued:
“But heed this – I shall show no leniency for being my child or for your gender. In fact, expect harsher treatment than others precisely because you are my offspring. And if I deem you lacking, I will have you cease immediately, the same applying to actual combat. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Good. Then follow me.”
Seizing the opportunity while the iron was hot, Zhang Fei headed outside with long strides. My mother hurriedly scurried after him.

“Wha- What is the meaning of this? She is just a young girl. She should be handling makeup brushes, not arms; studying feminine arts, not military classics! How could you do this?”
“What difference is there between a man or woman when it comes to nurturing ambition? Ran has already conceived a great purpose in her heart, rendering gender irrelevant. You look after Yan. I will take charge of Ran’s training.”
Having already reached the martial arts training ground, Zhang Fei grabbed two practice staves instead of live blades, tossing the shorter one to me.
“Show me your skills.”