"Jia Xu?"
When Liu Bei heard the name from Zhuge Liang, his gaze sharpened.
Across the Nine Provinces, Jia Xu had long been renowned as a master of the art of war, specializing in the Yin-Yang and Situational Methods of the military school.
He had always been elusive and had not been seen for a long time. Liu Bei had no idea how he had become involved with Zhang Xiu.
Pfft!
The instant Zhang Xiu vanished, Zhao Yun's body burst apart, countless cracks appearing across it as it nearly came undone.
Just as Zhang Xiu had said, he had spent more than ten times as long as Zhao Yun cultivating his spear arts, and had long since reached perfection.
Zhao Yun had been desperate to win just now, fighting as if his life depended on it and abandoning all defense. Zhang Xiu's spear had gravely wounded him.
Before Liu Bei and the others could step forward, a figure emerged from the great hall below and caught Zhao Yun as he fell.
"General Zhang, it's been a long time."
Liu Bei was no stranger to Zhang Ren. The commander of the troops in Sichuan was as renowned as the Northern Lands' Spear King, and they had met before.
"Greetings, Uncle Liu."
Zhang Ren nodded to him, then turned and carried Zhao Yun into the hall.
"Allow me to treat Zilong's wounds first."
Liu Bei and his party filed in behind him, one after another, and offered incense before Tong Yuan's coffin to pay their respects.
After making sure Zhao Yun was settled, Zhang Ren went to the rear mountain of Penglai. A short while later, he returned carrying a foot-tall immortal herb.
Its leaves were orange and green, their tips entwined with faint light. Strands of Daoist essence coiled around them,