Rather Than Zhang Ran, Zhang Bao’s Eldest Daughter

The year 209 concluded with the marriage of Liu Bei and Lady Sun, sealing the union between the Liu and Sun clans as a symbol of their alliance.
After this marital tie, Jingzhou finally emerged from its prolonged period of warfare into a tenuous peace maintained by the mutual checks and balances between the three powers.

Liu Bei, having officially ascended as the Jingzhou Governor following Guan Yu’s death late last year, focused on consolidating his newfound territories – the four southern commanderies ceded by Zhou Yu in addition to part of the Southlands. Jingzhou swiftly came under Liu Bei’s sway.

Cao Ren barely escaped with his life by punching through Guan Yu’s encirclement thanks to the valorous efforts of his subordinate Yi Tong, a feat which even impressed Guan Yu himself.

Meanwhile, Guan Yu flawlessly maintained the encirclement against Cao Cao’s elite marshals before safely withdrawing, earning him the titles of Governor of Liangzhou and General of Chariots and Cavalry as he took up position in Guanzhong.

As for my father Zhang Fei, he was enfeoffed as the Marquis of Xinzheng and appointed Governor of the Southlands. Initially only overseeing the southern portion Zhou Yu had ceded, Zhang Fei later gained full governance after Lü Meng convinced Sun Quan to lend him the rest of his Southlands territories.

And that decision also signified Zhou Yu’s demise.
News of Zhou Yu’s death while preparing an expedition against Xuchang and Yizhou swiftly spread across the realm, not just reaching me.
Having achieved nationwide renown following the Red Cliffs and Southlands victories, Zhou Yu’s passing carried immense repercussions.

Perhaps my intervention could have altered his fate, I had wondered – but the predetermined future unfolded regardless. In hindsight, such concerns seemed laughable.
The injuries Zhou Yu sustained in the Southlands were no trifling matter – even the formidable Cao Ren had judged them life-threatening.
Under such debilitating circumstances, instead of convalescence Zhou Yu immediately returned to official duties, even preparing a new expedition. His demise was inevitable. Even if I had deliberately remained by his side in a caretaking role, I could not have guaranteed his survival.

Intellectually, I understood this. Yet a lingering bitterness remained – I had thought all vestiges of my past life’s affections purged, but some sediments evidently persisted in the recesses of my heart.
Stowing away the tea leaves Zhou Yu had once gifted me in an unseen corner, I tucked those memories of him into an obscure alcove of my mind alongside the lingering aroma.

Externally, the broader situation involved Sun Quan’s preoccupation with Zhou Yu’s funeral rites and succession, Cao Cao still reeling from his successive Red Cliffs and Southlands defeats, while the domestically-focused Liu Bei refrained from substantial military movements.
The year Jian’an 15 proved remarkably tranquil overall.

During this interlude of peace, I remained in the Southlands alongside Zhang Fei.
The Southlands campaign had exposed my inexperience starkly. No matter how promising one’s innate talents, untrained potential amounted to mere bluster devoid of substance.
I did not permanently resign from military service – as an ordinary foot soldier, I held no official post to relinquish, nor faced obstacles to later rejoining.

Instead, I returned home, welcomed not by Zhang Fei but my mother Lady Ha and younger sister Zhang Yan.
“Sister!”
The warmth as my four-years-younger sister, now ten, rushed over to hug me tightly.
“I told you to take care…”
The pained tremor in Mother’s voice as she tearfully eyed the scars marring my body, conveying a parent’s deepest love.
“From now on, I shall personally undertake your full martial arts training.”
Father’s solemn vow to impart his complete teachings, that I might avoid future injuries.
All of it reaffirmed that I belonged to this family.

And so I melded back into their embrace. Having retained Zhang Ran’s memories and sentiments all along, perhaps it was akin to an unusually precocious adolescence?
At any rate, my days blurred by – training under Father, being half-dragged off by Mother for grooming lessons, doting on my perpetually clinging little sister. Blink, and winter melted into spring as I grew nearly half a hand-span compared to my initial reawakening into this life, the remarkable growth spurt of adolescence even with my modest exercise routine.

As my body grew, so did my strength and commensurate training rigor under the supreme mentor Zhang Fei, steadily progressing after tasting the razor’s edge between life and death on the battlefield.
Yet I was not solely confined indoors – I did maintain some outside interactions.
Zhou Yu and I met privately a few times before his passing (he was then still based in the Southlands), and Guan Ping even visited once.

Today was a special occasion where I only performed basic drills once weekly, reserving the rest to spend time with my younger sister per our agreement.
Coincidentally, Father was away on official business, leaving me to indulge in pinching Zhang Yan’s adorably chubby baby cheeks.

“Sis? Didn’t you just do that yesterday?”
“Mmm~I’d pinch them forever if I could!”
“Stawp, stawp it! How’m I s’possed to eat like dis?”
My incessant cheek-squishing prompted Zhang Yan’s cute protests that she couldn’t eat properly, oblivious that her responses only spurred me on further, my mischievous little sister.

Watching her fidgety fingers as she sat on my lap, I released her cheeks and suggested:
“Want to make string figures?”
“Yeah!”
Hopping off excitedly, Zhang Yan’s short legs scampered away as her pitter-pattering footsteps echoed through our residence in search of string.
Children in this era sorely lacked recreational pastimes. Having taught Zhang Yan string figures, she constantly clamored for us to play it together whenever I was around.

‘Never expected to revisit elementary school games.’
In my childhood, boys typically played with boys while girls stuck to their own gender circles. But I had straddled that divide easily, adeptly joining whatever games the girls played – I had dominated the entire school at jacks and that rubber band game.

Lost in wistful reminiscence, Zhang Yan soon returned cradling string, already positioned over her plump little fingers, raring to begin.
“Your turn, Sis!”
String figures harbored deceptive difficulty, yet Zhang Yan deftly manipulated the strings with her pudgy digits – our parents clearly passed down superb genetics. I too had memorized the Thousand Character Classic and studied the classics by 9.

“Aw…messed up.”
Zhang Yan’s still developing dexterity meant such slipups.
“It’s okay, you’ve improved so much already! Our Zhang Yan is amazing!”
“Uh-huh! I practiced the solo one you showed me!”

The solo string figure technique? I had only demonstrated that once, yet she committed it to memory? Truly exceptional genes.
“Want me to show you again? Watch closely~”
Before I could prompt her, Zhang Yan nimbly began weaving the strings. Her tiny hands deftly manipulating the patterns proved utterly adorable, prompting me to instinctively reach over and ruffle her hair. Ah, so that’s why adults always aimed for the crown – I may be petite, but my looks were quite comely, it seemed.

Spending time with Zhang Yan naturally fostered an appreciation for Mother’s sentiments. Though only a four-year age gap, given my past life’s memories, she felt more like a doted-upon niece.
Had Zhang Yan later aspired to military service on the battlefield herself, I too would have obstructed her path without hesitation. Imagining Mother’s anguish upon my return wounded brought home the torment she must have endured.

While my divine blessing assured an understanding of my innate potential, our parents lacked that reassurance – Father’s transcendent abilities enabled recognizing and accommodating mine, but Mother’s commoner roots instilled natural maternal apprehension.

“Done! See?”
Lost in contemplation, I was roused by Zhang Yan’s proud display of her handiwork.
“Wow, amazing! Our Zhang Yan is the best!”
“Heehee, right?”
How could I ever expose this little darling to such perils?

Having showcased her string figure prowess, Zhang Yan demandingly stated:
“Okay Sis, now you show me that sword thingy.”
“Sword thingy?”

“Y’know, when you go whoosh-whish with the sword! Like that?”
Flailing her arms expressively despite her limited vocabulary, Zhang Yan mimed sword movements.

In my training, I practiced both swords and spears, typically favoring spears alongside Father but preferring swords during solo sessions.
And those sword forms heavily emphasized Lichtenauer’s longsword fencing. Undoubtedly visually impressive if not outright combat-applicable – no other sword art could match the longsword for sheer pageantry outside actual battlefield usage or personal spiritual cultivation.

“Alright then, want me to put on a little show?”
“Yaaaay!”
Clapping happily, I left Zhang Yan behind as I retrieved a sword. Still diminutive for my age, even a standard Han jian felt akin to a longsword in my petite hands.

“Whoo…”
Steadying my breath, I assumed the Pflug guard stance with the sword held braced against my chest.
The ensuing sword form flowed like water, transitioned like the ceaseless wind, seamlessly shifting stances and chaining slashes with thrusts.
An uninitiated observer might deem the interlinked movements a ‘sword dance’ – more fluid yet sharper than last year, gradually accelerating until the very sound of the blade cleaving air faded from perception.

The instant I struck the descending Oberhau from Zornhau…
“Ah, ah, wait, if you keep this up…”
Commotion erupted from the mansion’s entrance courtyard.
“Sis…?”
The guard’s bewildered tone prompted Zhang Yan’s anxious look.
“It’s fine, I’ll handle this.”
This ‘sister’ appellation rolled smoothly off my tongue now, having grown accustomed to Zhang Yan’s constant use of it.

Putting aside such trivialities, as I made to investigate, a flustered servant came scurrying over, babbling incoherently upon spotting me:
“L-Lady Zhang! R-Right now, that is to say…”
“Guo Lao. Do not fret, speak slowly. Take a deep breath first.”
The elderly servant, whom I addressed as Lao due to his age, steadied himself at my urging.
“Now, what seems to be the matter?”
“A visitor has arrived, but they are…”
“But what of them?”

While uninvited, it was not uncommon for those with business with Zhang Fei to come calling at our residence. On such occasions, the servants would seek myself if neither Zhang Fei nor Mother were available to inquire how to proceed. Before I could voice similar expectations, Guo Lao blurted out:
“They claim to be Lady Sun!”

Kwang!
Punctuating the old servant’s frantic revelation came a resounding boom as the main gates shattered inwards, flung wide open.
Then, without the master’s permission, the uncouth footfalls of an entire retinue brazenly trespassing into the inner courtyard grated against my ears.
Finally, the Chuilingmen screen separating the outer and inner compounds swung open.
Despite it being forbidden to cross that boundary uninvited, the shameless intruders strode right through as if it were their own dwelling.

At the inner courtyard’s center, I gripped my sword as I leveled my gaze towards the unwanted guests.
Their leader, a woman resplendent in ornate robes, radiated a feral aura with her slanted, predatory eyes and palpable ferocious presence.
Her svelte, toned figure still visible despite the lavish garments, combined with the well-used sword at her hip bearing obvious signs of wear, evoked the image of a lithe panther poised to pounce.

“So you are Zhang Ran?”
There was no doubt.
This woman was none other than Sun Quan’s sister, Liu Bei’s wife – Lady Sun herself.