Rather Than Zhang Ran, Zhang Bao’s Eldest Daughter

This felt like the crux. I had received such inquiries before, just not phrased so directly.
Martial officers well-disposed towards me had casually asked if I intended to resume military service. While scholars outright viewed my prior campaigning as a mere youthful indiscretion, hoping I would become a proper lady henceforth.

Yet Fan Zhun differed from them all. Rather than imparting his own conclusions, he seemed inclined towards engaging me in genuine discourse.
Seeing no need for obfuscation, I candidly stated my intentions:
“Yes, I continue to train diligently.”
“I have heard you narrowly escaped death that time. Yet you persist despite such a harrowing brush with mortality?”

Could the terror of facing death be so easily forgotten? No matter my eccentric detachment, the innate dread of oblivion had not entirely abandoned me.
I too feared death. Recoiled from pain and possessed no morbid delight in inflicting it upon others – I was no sadistic killer.
“Yes, despite that.”

Still, I yearned for the battlefield – for opportunities to etch my name into legend, to defiantly proclaim my existence to the world.
In my past life, what worth had I possessed? What lingering remnants attested to my having lived, breathed in that realm? Like cosmic detritus drifting aimlessly before dissipating into absolute nothingness, my beginning lacked culmination, my journey rendered utterly devoid of meaning.

This time would be different.
I would engrave my imprint upon this world, cry out my presence to the heavens. Chronicles would record my name, to be remembered by humanity throughout the ages, each generation’s recitation substantiating my legacy.

To achieve that destiny, I had to become a peerless commander. And one day, echo Napoleon’s words – that the age of chaos had finally ended.
My declaration bordered on solemn vow, simultaneously answering Fan Zhun while reaffirming my own innermost resolve.

“That is…”
The hitherto silent Fan Zhun finally spoke.
“Defiance of the natural order.”
Defiance of the natural order – flouting the immutable principles established by the heavens themselves.

“You speak of my desire to pursue the martial path?”
Fan Zhun nodded gravely before expounding:
“The Book of Changes states: Bringing forth males pertains to the Way of the Creative, while birthing females follows the Way of the Receptive. The Qian trigram represents Yang, the Kun trigram Yin – thus male and female respectively. It is said that men have their correct place in the outside world, while women have their correct place within the inner realm – for this is in accordance with the great principle of Heaven and Earth itself. Yet how can you, bearing the Yin principle, seek to emulate the Yang?”

Citing the Confucian classic Book of Changes, Fan Zhun condemned my chosen path as a violation of the natural order.

As I later learned, his mentor Song Zhong had received particular renown for his commentaries on the Changes. Fan Zhun invoking this specific text likely reflected Song’s scholarly influence.

Regardless of the scriptural evidence presented, I could not simply acquiesce. Though the pre-reawakened Zhang Ran had studied some of the classics, the only two I retained meaningful comprehension of were the Analects and Mencius – hardly sufficient grounding to debate authentic Confucian scholars on their level.

So I could only attempt to steer his argument towards self-contradiction through careful rebuttal:
“Does the Counselor’s argument imply men should only perform outer tasks while women are solely meant for inner ones?”
“Precisely so.”
Receiving Fan Zhun’s affirmative reply, I smiled as I posed my next query:
“Is cooking considered an inner or outer task?”
“An inner one.”
“Then if a wife committed some error while performing such inner tasks, resulting in a fire breaking out, should her husband refrain from any involvement since that would constitute an outer matter?”

“…”
Fan Zhun hesitated, unable to provide a ready answer. Following his previous logic, the husband should indeed abstain from intervening in a domestic fire as an outer affair improper for male involvement.
Yet expecting a solitary female to extinguish such a blaze alone proved patently infeasible in this era devoid of professional fire brigades.

Unsurprisingly, Fan Zhun’s reply aligned with my anticipations:
“Since a house fire jeopardizes the entire household’s survival, the husband must lend his efforts towards extinguishing it.”
“And so it is with the current age of chaos.”

The era of turmoil precipitated by the Yellow Turban Rebellion had endured over two decades and persisted even now. Cao Cao’s aspiring imperial dynasty had been shattered at Red Cliffs, yet the ascendant Sun-Liu alliance and the remnant forces of Xiliang and Yizhou prevented any prospect of reunification for decades more. And even that fleeting peace would soon give way to the even greater chaos of the Warring States period.

While my existence may have altered history’s trajectory, lacking my direct intervention it would likely still broadly adhere to its original course.
If the Confucian ‘great principle’ or ‘heavenly decree’ truly held the key to ending this age of chaos and ushering an era of pacific prosperity, then dismissing my unflinching willingness to sacrifice everything towards that goal would itself constitute defiance of that greater righteousness.

Just as a husband committed no wrong rushing to douse a household fire, neither did I err in plunging into martial affairs to restore order and stability.

Though my counterargument remained simplistic, Fan Zhun seemingly having never intended to dissuade me from my aspirations, he acquiesced with a solemn nod:
“Then you shall become a lesser Yang.”
“A lesser Yang?”
“Indeed. The natural order itself is the Supreme Ultimate, which divides into the two polar Yin and Yang principles – male and female. These two subdivide further into a greater Yin, a greater Yang, a lesser Yin and a lesser Yang – the Four Emblematic Symbols.”

The Four Emblematic Symbols – even I recognized this fundamental Sasang constitutional medicine concept from the Korean Ye Je-ma’s teachings, classifying people into greater Yang, greater Yin, lesser Yang and lesser Yin body types requiring tailored treatments.

“From the Yin principle emerges the greater Yin and the lesser Yang, the latter being Yang within Yin.”
“So you have studied the Changes as well.”
Not the Book of Changes itself, but rather the drama series Yi Je-ma. Stung by my conscience, I refrained from such blunt candor, instead deflecting:
“Why offer me such counsel?”
“Not counsel per se – merely an observable truth anyone could perceive.”
“And yet you are the only one to convey it to me directly.”
“Haha, I suppose that is true.”

Fan Zhun laughed self-consciously, his slight embarrassment not wholly unpleasant as he carefully broached the heart of the matter:
“An apology for misjudging you initially. A re-evaluation prompted by my own blind shortsightedness.”
“You assumed I was an unruly, untamed girl overstepping her bounds.”
“…Yes, a most shameful presumption on my part.”
“Think nothing of it. All would likely assume the same. While you felt compelled to seek me out and acknowledge your misjudgment, to me you stood alone in that regard.”

Had Fan Zhun tearfully lapsed into protracted mourning after his eventual surrender, I wondered?
Though heeding the counsel of Liu Bei who recognized his talents, he had clashed with the disdainful Guan Yu. Excessive pride in his own abilities perhaps rendered him unduly sensitive to any perceived slights or errors.
So he had sought me out directly, defecting to serve Sun Quan specifically due to that lord’s esteem for his capabilities.

Unsurprisingly, my reciprocal recognition of Fan Zhun’s merits prompted him to respond with an almost rapturous gratitude, his features radiating heartfelt emotion – you had underestimated me, yet I affirm your true worth.
In a tremulous voice, he declared:

“It is said Lord Regent Liu sought out the Master Zhuge thrice before he finally acquiesced. How could I possibly rebuff you further? Fan Zhun requests to become your scholarly friend and correspondent, Lady Zhang.”

Perfect!
I beamed warmly as I clasped Fan Zhun’s calloused hand. Sturdy and seasoned – he seemed fully capable of serving ably in martial affairs despite his civil background.

By cultivating this relationship, as I continued rising Fan Zhun would undoubtedly redouble his efforts for Shu-Han’s sake. For Liu Bei would no longer be the sole lord recognizing and nurturing his talents – I too would play that benefactor’s role.
Once we had forged amity, were Guan Yu’s frictions to prove irreconcilable I could reasonably request Father to recruit Fan Zhun without impropriety.

Conversely, I too stood to benefit considerably. Forming ties with the esteemed Fan Zhun conferred immediate prestige and credibility. ‘The celebrated student of the eminent Confucian master Song Zhong, transcending age and gender barriers to forge a friendship with Zhang Ran’ – such an anecdote would powerfully rebut any future objections to my chosen martial path.

‘So you presume greater scholastic mastery than Song Zhong himself? Yet his disciple Fan Zhun disregarded such conventions to befriend Zhang Ran. Who are you to voice dissent?’
One brick at a time, I continued laying the foundations for my journey.

At times like these, I could not help ruefully reflecting that being born male would have smoothed my path immeasurably.
Had I been Zhang Ran’s brother Zhang Po, blessed with Zhang Fei’s robust masculine constitution, I could have likely already distinguished myself through battlefield exploits at Red Cliffs or the Southlands campaigns to attain generalship by now.

Yet my birth as the daughter Zhang Ran rather than the son Zhang Po paradoxically harbored its own advantages, a fact I gradually came to realize over time. But that realization lay ahead – for now, I could celebrate removing one lingering threat to Jingzhou’s stability while simultaneously gaining a new ally to fortify my endeavors.

The year 210 A.D., Jian’an 15 – another pivotal day had arrived.