At the Battle of Bowang Slope twenty years ago, Liu Bei had possessed only the small city of Xinye. The generals who followed Guan Yu on this northern campaign had either joined later or, like Lan Ji, had not even been born yet.
Having never endured those early hardships, they could not truly empathize with Guan Yu. Only Zhou Cang, who had once carried his blade, shared his feelings. He silently walked over and poured Guan Yu a drink; the bond between master and servant had lasted more than twenty years.
Seeing Zhou Cang "snatch" his task, Guan Ping gave an awkward smile, then asked Guan Yu in confusion, "Father, we've now driven deep behind Cao Xiu's lines. Jing Province warships can presently sail freely on the Yushui River, but what if Cao Xiu sends men to block them downstream? If our tens of thousands of troops lose their supplies, the course of the war will change. Besides, I hear Wan City has ample provisions."
"Zhang Wenyuan commanded troops with prudence. I estimate Wan City's grain stores can last at least three months. But if Cao Xiu turns around and retakes Bowang, his provisions will be consumed much faster." Guan Yu stroked his splendid beard, wholly unruffled.
"Ah? Our food can only last a little over a month. If Cao Xiu intends to drag things out with us, wouldn't we have to abandon the warships and return by land?" Guan Ping's brows drew tightly together.
Using the warships in coordination, Guan Yu had fought a brilliant mobile campaign in Nanyang. This time especially, his "mobile turret" tactic had opened the eyes of Jing Province's generals. Though Guan Ping found it a great pity, he was not alarmed. Warships could be built again once lost, and Nanyang was mostly plains; Cao