The thousand-year-old family began with King Wu's conquest of King Zhou.

Chapter 24 Silent until it speaks, then it astounds.

Before the four kingdoms attacked Liang, rumors about Prince Yu circulated in the streets of Liang.

"That second young master, he spends his days feasting and galloping around Zhangtai; how could he possibly be a descendant of Duke Wenzhao?"

"I heard that the other day he was playing and singing with a group of wandering knights, and was so drunk that he fell asleep for three days without waking up!"

"Your Majesty is wise and mighty, how could such a dissolute young master be born?"

Rumors spread like autumn leaves, fluttering and swirling.

Even high-ranking officials in the court couldn't help but shake their heads and sigh when they saw that Prince Yu spent his days indulging in pleasure. They privately remarked that he was "frivolous, fond of drinking and merrymaking, unlike the Zhang family."

Only his father, Zhang Quzhuo, remained noncommittal, only ordering people to ensure that Gongzi Yu's expenses were not lacking and that his safety was not in danger.

On this day, Prince Yu once again held a grand banquet for his guests at his residence. The music was lively, and the wine flowed freely until late into the night.

During the banquet, a retainer, seeing that Prince Yu's eyes were blurry with drunkenness, took advantage of his intoxication to say, "My lord, the affairs of the state are currently in dire straits; how can you indulge in wine and pleasure all day long?"

Upon hearing this, Gongzi Yu, his eyes glazed with drunkenness, suddenly burst into laughter, "You only see the feasting and drinking; how can you know my lofty ambitions?"

Having said this, he threw his goblet to the ground and proclaimed loudly, "A bird perches on Mount Fu, neither flying nor singing! It is to grow its wings, to observe the world!"

"Not spreading its wings is to await the winds and clouds; not soaring in the wild is to avoid the hawks and falcons!"

The entire room was astonished, thinking it was drunken talk. After all, Zhang Yu's reputation was so great that they couldn't believe it.

Zhang Yu was completely different from his elder brother Zhang Jing. When he was thirteen or fourteen, he learned to knock on widows' doors and drive a large cart. Later, he insulted his teachers and became addicted to wine and women.

After he said this tonight, only Zhao Han, who was sitting in the corner and had returned to Liangyi on business, observed his childhood friend thoughtfully.

The next day.

Zhang Yu, supporting his head which felt like it was about to split open, got up and immediately said to those around him, "Bring me some wine."

Just then, Zhao Han came to visit. Zhao Han stood in the courtyard with his hands behind his back. When he saw Zhang Yu walking out with disheveled hair and his clothes wide open, Zhao Han frowned almost imperceptibly.

"Young master drank heavily last night, are you able to get up today?"

Zhang Yu rubbed his temples, took the wine cup handed to him by the servant, and tilted his head back to drink it down.

The wine dripped down his collar, but he didn't wipe it away. He just squinted at Zhao Han and said, "Zirong is here? Perfect timing. Sit down, sit down."

Zhao Han didn't sit down; he stood in the courtyard, sizing up his childhood friend.

"They do not fly or sing, so as to grow their wings; they do not soar in the wild, so as to avoid hawks and falcons."

Zhang Yu, who said these words last night, threw his cup to the ground. His voice was clear and resonant, showing no signs of drunkenness. Yet, the man sitting on the veranda now was no different from the playboy who was indulging in wine and women.

"Do you remember what you said at the banquet last night, young master?" Zhao Han asked.

Zhang Yu blinked, looking completely bewildered: "Last night? What did Yu say last night?"

He scratched his head, as if trying hard to remember, "Yu only remembers getting three retainers drunk, and then going back to his room to rest. What? What nonsense did Yu talk while drunk?"

"It neither soars nor cries out, nor does it fly in the wild." Zhao Han repeated.

Zhang Yu paused for a moment, then burst out laughing: "That's really nonsense."

He took the wine cup handed to him by the servant and took a sip. The spicy wine rolled down his throat. He exhaled a long breath. "Zirong, don't take it to heart. Yu Yi likes to talk nonsense when he's drunk. Last time he was drunk, he said he could draw a three-stone bow. As a result, his arm hurt so much the next day that he couldn't lift it."

He rolled up his sleeves, revealing a pale arm. "Look, how can you draw a bow when you're this thin?"

Zhang Yu's arms certainly didn't look like those of someone who had practiced martial arts for many years. Unlike his elder brother Zhang Jing, who was refined and slender, Zhang Yu's figure was more slender and his face was pale, clearly showing signs of years of irregular sleep and being immersed in wine and women.

Zhao Han stared at the arm and fell silent.

He and Zhang Yu had known each other since childhood. At that time, Zhang Quzhuo had just ascended the throne, and the whole of Liang was discussing the new emperor's great talent and strategy. No one paid attention to the emperor's second son.

Zhao Han remembered that Zhang Yu was not like this when he was a child. Back then, he would chase after her, wanting to learn to ride a horse, learn to shoot arrows, and make a name for himself.

He changed. When did he start to change? Probably after Gongzi Jing's reputation for virtue gradually spread.

Zhao Han gave him a deep look, said nothing, and took her leave.

Zhang Yu did not get up to see him off.

When Zhang Yu saw Zhao Han again, it was already the day that news of the four states attacking Liang reached Liangyi. That year, Prince Jing began to travel around the states and arrived in Jin.

When the official report arrived at the palace, Zhang Quzhuo was discussing matters with his ministers. After a brief silence in the hall, the distribution of provisions, the conscription of soldiers, and the relocation of garrisons proceeded in an orderly manner, and imperial edicts flowed out like water.

The machine of Liang has been running for over two hundred years and has its own set of rules.

After the meeting adjourned, Zhao Han was stopped by Zhang Yu outside the palace gate.

"Zirong." Zhang Yu leaned against the palace wall, not carrying a wine jug, and unusually stood upright. "Are you going to Wudu?"

"Han is the prefect of Wudu, so naturally he should go to Wudu."

"Alright then." Zhang Yu nodded, seemingly wanting to say something, but then paused.

A moment later, he reached out and patted Zhao Han on the shoulder, "Come back alive."

Zhao Han looked at his hand.

The hand was still pale and thin, but the pressure on his shoulder at that moment didn't seem like that of someone who had been drained by wine and women.

"Young master, you haven't had any wine today?"

"I forgot." Zhang Yu withdrew his hand, turned and walked into the depths of the alley, waving his hand behind his back, and resumed his lazy appearance.

Zhao Han stood there, staring at that slouching figure, motionless for a long time.

He suddenly remembered when he was a child, Zhang Yu chased after him and said, "When I grow up, I will lead troops with you."

……

Strangely enough, when the king personally visited Hanzhong, he brought with him Prince Yu, who was known for his frivolous behavior.

The people of the country did not understand. Even if Prince Jing was not present, couldn't they just use any mule? Was the king's eyesight failing? The people of the country were very puzzled by this.

However, what happened next shocked the Chinese people.

Prince Yu led a hundred cavalrymen eastward at breakneck speed, arriving at the western city in a day and a night.

The city was garrisoned by only a few hundred troops, while the main force of the Yong army had already gone west to meet Ba.

Prince Yu ordered his men to investigate the location of the grain and fodder storage, and that night he personally led more than ten people to sneak in.

At the fourth watch, flames shot into the sky outside the west city, burning all of Yong's stored grain.

The defending troops were thrown into chaos, and Prince Yu seized the opportunity to break through the gate. A hundred Liang cavalrymen rushed in, killed a hundred mediocre soldiers, and then withdrew after achieving his goal.

After the four kingdoms withdrew their troops and sued for peace, Zhao Han returned to Liangyi from Wudu to receive his reward. The first thing he did was not to go to the palace to receive the reward, but to go straight to the residence of Prince Yu.

Zhang Yu was sitting in the courtyard wiping his sword.

The newly sharpened blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight, casting a contrast of light and shadow on half of his face; his hand was very steady.

"Zirong is here. Please sit down."

Zhao Han sat down opposite him at the stone table and cut to the chase: "In the battle of Xicheng, did you really only bring a hundred cavalry with you, young master?"

"It's a hundred riders." Zhang Yu placed his sword across his lap, glanced up at him, and suddenly laughed. "Zirong, are you trying to say that this fighting style is too risky?"

"As the saying goes, 'A wise man does not stand under a crumbling wall.' What you are doing is too dangerous."

Zhang Yu flicked the sword with his finger, and the blade emitted a clear, melodious hum. "My father used treasures to exchange for three hundred horses from Qin, and then hired Qin horse breeders to train them. After a whole year of effort, only one hundred horses are fit for battle; not a single one more."

He put down his sword. "It's not that Yu only brought a hundred riders, it's that Yu only has a hundred riders."

Zhao Han remained silent for a moment. He knew that Liang was short of horses, but he just wanted to say: We must consider our own safety.

"Zirong, weren't you also the first to charge into battle and scale the city walls during the attack on Qiangyuan? Now you're talking about Yu?"

"Han is a subject."

"He's also Yu's friend!"

Zhao Han looked at him; it was still the same face, pale and unwell, with dark circles under his eyes.

But the thick callus on the tiger's mouth was real, and the blade of the sword on the knee was also real.

"What you said at the banquet that night, young master," Zhao Han suddenly said, "wasn't it just drunken talk, 'silent and unassuming'?"

"No." Zhang Yu plunged his sword into the crevice in the rock, the blade sinking half a foot in. "It wasn't then, and it's not now."

He pulled his sword from the crack in the stone, sheathed it, and hung it on the wall. He turned around and dusted off his hands. "After my brother's passing, someone has to step forward and share Father's burden."

He didn't call him "Your Majesty" or "King," but rather "Father."

Zhao Han understood, and after a moment of silence, asked, "How long have you been waiting, young master?"

Zhang Yu sat down again at the stone table, poured himself and Zhao Han each a bowl of tea, but answered irrelevantly, "This is what I should do."

On the day the troops were mustered in Hanzhong, Zhang Quzhuo called out "Yu".

At that moment, the generals in the tent looked at each other in bewilderment. Only Zhang Yu knew how long he had been waiting to hear those words.

Zhao Han picked up her teacup and clinked it against his; the two rough earthenware bowls made a crisp sound.

"Young master, you truly are a man who, when you speak, astounds all!"

"Hahaha……"