Chapter 2

I picked up the staff and swung it lightly a few times. It was quite heavy. Regardless of gender, it wasn’t something a child should wield. After a few swings, it was clear that I would run out of strength.

Zhang Fei, who revered the gentleman, wouldn’t do anything unnecessary, so this must have been a test of willpower. Zhang Fei was surprised to see how much I had changed in just a week, but in other words, it meant that until a week ago, Chang-ran was no different from any other girl her age.

Although he said he wanted to see my skills, he probably didn’t expect me to have the basics of martial arts.

But that was the story of Chang-ran, an ordinary girl.

I carried not only Chang-ran’s memories of the past eight years but also the memories of my previous life as a Korean man, spanning decades.

And one more thing.

“Since it would be hard to survive as you are, I’ll make you at least as strong as your father.”

A faint voice from my last memory in Korea. At first, I didn’t understand what it meant, but now, as Chang-ran, I know.

The strength I feel in my grip on the staff, in my legs supporting my body, and throughout my entire being proves his words.

“This body has the innate divine strength of Zhang Fei.”

This is my foothold. If I only had memories, I wouldn’t have dared to challenge Zhang Fei. Even if I did, I would have aimed to become a civil official based on future knowledge, not a military one.

But with this strength…

“The title of Supreme General becomes a reality.”

I adjusted my grip on the staff. Not as if holding a spear, but as if holding a sword.

The staff was over 1 meter long. Compared to Zhang Fei’s stature, it was almost like a short staff, but for my small body, it was sufficiently long.

Not as a spear, but as a sword. And I had experience wielding such a long sword.

“Longsword techniques.”

As a Western history major, I had learned swordsmanship out of interest. To Zhang Fei, it might seem like child’s play, but with the modifier of a 9-year-old girl, it wouldn’t be taken as mere play.

“Hoh, your stance is quite impressive. Did you practice with a sword in just a week? How bold.”

Despite trying to be serious, Zhang Fei couldn’t completely hide his parental pride, watching his cute daughter’s performance. He maintained a perfect defensive stance while showing a hint of carelessness.

‘Now!’

I seized that tiny opening.

From the high stance, I charged forward and slashed downward.

Zhang Fei didn’t bother to dodge the overhead strike. This spar was merely a test and assessment of my abilities. Wanting to gauge my full potential, he blocked my strike head-on.

Clang!

The sound of the staffs clashing echoed louder than expected. My full-powered strike was blocked by Zhang Fei’s staff, but it made his hand tremble.

The warm gaze Zhang Fei had for his daughter instantly turned serious, as if he were on the battlefield.

Even for someone of Zhang Fei’s caliber, the strength of a 9-year-old has limits, but I had techniques that a 9-year-old Zhang Fei didn’t possess.

I didn’t stop attacking just because I was blocked. Lichtenauer longsword techniques are about the flow of stances. From one stance to another, like flowing water or blowing wind, continuously changing stances to overwhelm the opponent.

With the initiative in hand, I had to keep pressing. Despite having strength beyond my age and gender, the pressure of my first real fight and the intense fatigue from exerting my full power would quickly fill this small body.

“Huff!”

Despite my relentless onslaught, Zhang Fei stood firm like a mountain, deflecting and blocking all my attacks.

Even though defense is a last resort, Zhang Fei’s defense was flawless, leaving no room for counterattacks. Unlike me, who had only trained in isolation, Zhang Fei’s martial arts, forged in life-and-death battles, were on a completely different level.

Crack!

When Zhang Fei countered my final desperate attack, I could no longer hold on and dropped the staff.

Regardless of strength and technique, my unprepared hands were now scraped and bleeding, and my limbs trembled as if I had a fever.

“This is as far as you go.”

Zhang Fei approached me and carefully examined my trembling hands.

Even the cold-hearted Zhang Fei seemed pained by his daughter’s injuries. He frowned and called for his wife, who had been watching from the side.

“Ran is injured. Bring some medicine.”

“Huh? Oh, yes! Right away.”

Mother Xiahou, who had been stunned by the spar between me and Zhang Fei, snapped out of it and hurried off, forgetting to call a servant.

Left alone in the training ground, Zhang Fei gently massaged my uninjured hand and arm.

“You’re a natural.”

In Zhang Fei’s eyes, a quiet desire burned, one that hadn’t been there before the spar.

“My martial talent has been passed down to you.”

According to Chang-ran’s memories, the eldest, Zhang Po, was born sickly. Far from following Zhang Fei into battle, it was commendable that he even managed to have children later in life.

The second son, Zhang Zhao, was somewhat capable physically but not enough to make a name for himself as a military officer. Instead, he had talent as a scholar. Zhang Fei, who revered gentlemen from scholarly families, was proud of his second son.

And then there was the eldest daughter. Finally, Zhang Fei’s martial talent had been passed down to the next generation through me.

A successor he had secretly given up on. With the future uncertain and the current famous generals not immortal, Zhang Fei must have longed for someone to fill his shoes.

To Zhang Fei, the fact that I was his daughter no longer seemed important.

I was certain I had filled the void in his heart.

Even if I hit the limits of a woman’s strength as I grew, I could still inherit his military strategies and excel as a general.

“You have talent, but you still lack training. Starting tomorrow, you’ll come with me to the military camp. No special treatment. Start from the bottom.”

But Zhang Fei’s strictness knew no exceptions. No, rather, because I was his daughter, he had to be even stricter.

To overcome the inherent limitations of being a woman and join the army, I needed to present a convincing reason. Superior lineage, exceptional talent, and leadership to command subordinates. Without any of these, it would be impossible for a woman to lead an army.

“My lord!”

While Zhang Fei and I shared this understanding and prepared for the long journey ahead, my mother, who had returned with the medicine, let out a near-scream upon seeing my hand in Zhang Fei’s grip.

She quickly applied the medicine to my hand, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was really safe. It must be made from crushed herbs, right?

I was about to say something, but seeing the tears welling up in my mother’s eyes, the words caught in my throat.

What kind of daughter was Chang-ran to my mother? Before recalling my past life, before the mountain spirit’s blessing, Chang-ran wasn’t as healthy as the eldest son, Zhang Po.

Born with the best genes from both parents, the eldest daughter was as precious as the apple of her eye.

But then, overnight, everything changed. She declared she would become a general, asked her strict father to train her, and even challenged one of the greatest generals in the land at the age of nine. It must have been a heart-stopping experience.

As guilt welled up, I bit my lip. After finishing applying the medicine, my mother spoke.

“I am a daughter of the Xiahou family. Though a woman, I have an eye for martial talent. You’ve inherited so much from your father and the Xiahou bloodline…”

At the mention of the Xiahou family, Zhang Fei’s expression soured. My mother was the niece of Xiahou Yuan, Cao Cao’s right-hand man. While Zhang Fei was proud that I had inherited his martial talent, he wasn’t pleased to hear that the Xiahou bloodline also contributed.

But my mother, true to her Xiahou heritage, spoke firmly.

“I know that even if I tried to stop you, you wouldn’t give up. Just take care of your body. And… no, never mind. I won’t say more.”

My mother seemed to have more to say but hesitated and only held my hand.

But I could vaguely guess what she wanted to say. The Xiahou family she couldn’t forget, and the future knowledge I possessed.

Zhang Fei, who followed Liu Bei, and his daughter, me.

The Xiahou family, who followed Cao Cao.

We were destined to clash on the battlefield. The thought of her uncle and her own daughter fighting each other must have been a deep and painful wound.

‘I promise.’

I couldn’t promise to protect the Xiahou family. Unless I defected to Wei, my duty was to defeat Wei.

The only promise I could make was not to directly harm them and to welcome any Xiahou who surrendered to our side in the future.

My mother might be comforted by this promise, but I felt a faint disgust at myself for knowing the fate of her uncle, who was like a father to her, and doing nothing.

Surely, I would turn a blind eye to more deaths and even cause them myself.

To step onto the battlefield.

To fight the enemy.

The weight of it pressed down on my shoulders.

I realized that while writing my name in history books might be just ink, carving it into history meant spilling someone’s blood.

Yet, I didn’t want to back down. I didn’t want to spout lofty ideals. This was my selfishness. Becoming Chang-ran, altering history, all of it.

‘It’s too late to turn back.’

From the moment I was reborn as Chang-ran, I had already started running.

“I promise, Mother.”

I said to my mother, who was still holding my uninjured hand.

“You won’t have to worry about what you fear. I can’t promise not to get hurt, but I will survive. I won’t die. Father will make sure of that.”

My mother finally couldn’t hold back her tears.

Zhang Fei turned his gaze away, letting my mother hug and cry over me.

Yes, you still have a conscience. As someone who studied Confucianism, you must know the tragedy my mother would face.

So, please take care of me. Make sure I don’t die, at least halve my mother’s sorrow, and make me strong, Father.