Rather Than Zhang Ran, Zhang Bao’s Eldest Daughter

The Southern Campaign – the clash that would decide Jingzhou’s fate in the aftermath of the Battle of Red Cliffs – had raged on for nearly a year.
Cao Ren and Zhou Yu – the supreme talents representing each side waged a contest of Cao Ren’s martial valor against Zhou Yu’s strategic ingenuity. The battle seesawed back and forth, but overall, the advantage lay with Zhou Yu.
Though Cao Ren was a peerless genius combining martial and literary arts, Zhou Yu’s strategic acumen surpassed him. Without Cao Ren’s superhuman valor, the Southlands would have fallen to Zhou Yu long ago.

Zhang Fei’s arriving thousand troops found Zhou Yu’s camp in a state of subdued chaos, disciplined yet tense. An unmistakable unease hung in the Sun forces’ air – the reason was obvious: Zhou Yu’s injuries, potentially life-threatening at one point.
Though Zhou Yu soldiered on with indomitable spirit, there were limits even he could not overcome. That the troops’ morale remained so steadfast despite witnessing their commander’s brush with death spoke volumes of Zhou Yu’s leadership.
Yet even Zhou Yu could not maintain this state indefinitely, which likely prompted his acceptance of Liu Bei’s offered reinforcements. Well-versed in the peerless might of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, Zhou Yu would not wish to squander this opportunity to force a decisive conclusion while he could still lead the campaign himself.

In any case, having joined Zhou Yu’s forces, Zhang Fei minimized his troops’ training regimen as they prepared for the impending battle through self-conditioning – resting adequately and replenishing their strength as best they could.

“Young lady, are you truly permitted to remain with us like this?”
The soldier Zhan San, assigned to my unit, voiced his lingering concerns. I still shared quarters with Zhang Fei and exempted from regular drills – perhaps seeing a mere 9-year-old being deployed unnerved him.

“It’ll be fine, have no such worries, Zhan San.”
While the prospect of actual life-and-death combat loomed large enough to unsettle even me, we would likely avoid the worst during this Southern Campaign.
Cao Ren, already hard-pressed against Zhou Yu alone, decided to withdraw once Zhang Fei’s reinforcements of a thousand troops arrived. The encircling Zhou Yu naturally attacked Cao Ren’s retreating forces.
Punching an exit through the encirclement was no major obstacle for the formidable Cao Ren lauded as the ‘Excellency of Cavalry.’ However, blocking his retreat northwards to rejoin Cao Cao’s main forces fell to Guan Yu’s secondary encirclement line.
Though Guan Yu’s blocking line was eventually breached due to the disparity in forces, the end result was still a Sun-Liu victory with the Southlands falling under Zhou Yu’s control.

So my primary role would be obstructing Cao Ren’s withdrawing troops first, then pursuing them after the encirclement was pierced.
Not entirely devoid of danger, but far safer than a full-scale pitched battle – at most a skirmish or two before the war’s conclusion.

Unfamiliar with such nuances, Zhan San could only see an inexplicable deployment into harm’s way. But I reassured him:
“And as I’ve said repeatedly, call me ‘Company Commander,’ not ‘young lady.'”

Shortly before joining Zhou Yu’s camp, I had become a Company Commander by defeating the previous holder in a bout – a rank more ceremonial than official within the regimental structure overseeing just five soldiers, but a position nonetheless.
It felt more comfortable than the appellation ‘young lady,’ which grated on me, not to mention the difficulty addressing me by name given my unique circumstances.

After that, the camp’s alarm drums began to sound their solemn, measured cadence:
Doo-oong! Doo-oong! Doo-oong!
A simple message – it was time to march out.

“Let’s move.”

Now I would truly witness battle firsthand, this massive clash where thousands, tens of thousands staked their lives for victory.
Despite possessing foreknowledge, my mouth went dry confronting the harsh reality of war – humanity’s most horrific undertaking.
Knowing it intellectually was one thing, but fully internalizing it emotionally was another. The earlier nonchalance evaporated, a chilling sense creeping up my spine.

“Well, I can still manage this much at least.”
My self-reassuring mutter prompted a confused “Huh?” from Zhan San, but I just patted his back with a wry smile.
“Let’s go, we’ll be late otherwise.”

Taking our pre-assigned position, I spotted Zhang Fei at the vanguard ahorse, his lanky frame and colossal build dwarfing all around him as he shouldered a lengthy spear.
Zhang Fei’s forces were positioned at the northern gate – though called the Southern Campaign, this was specifically the battle over Xiangyang rather than the entire region.
The northern gate represented the pivotal point breaching Cao Ren’s encirclement of Xiangyang. Perhaps I would indeed experience real combat contrary to my expectations.

‘I’m trembling.’
Perspiration beaded my palms as I wiped them on my clothes, trying to focus amid the commanders’ rallying cries and soldiers’ formations rather than the gradually opening northern gate and Cao Cao’s troops pouring forth.

§

Sounds. Sounds. Sounds.
The earth-shaking clop of hooves.
The piercing clangs of colliding blades.
Soldiers’ shouts, shrieks, sobs.
A cacophonous bombardment assaulting the senses.

Attackers and defenders locked in a ferocious melee, the clamor of clashing wills. Yet I stood frozen, momentarily paralyzed – not from fear, but the opposite. My mind was utterly consumed not by dread, but an exhilarating madness seemingly sparked by the battlefield itself.
A tingling thrill prickling up my spine.
This was combat.
This was the field of battle.
This chaotic age, these tumultuous times.

It was not that I devalued life or glorified death like some morbid fatalist. But there was an undeniable screw loose in my mind’s gears. Otherwise, in what sane state could I have wished to be blown apart by cannon-fire and reborn into these martial times, that pivotal utterance enabling my rebirth?
Ostracized from an era of peace, I craved more extreme experiences, chasing the footsteps of past übermenschen while denying my own inadequacies. For someone like me, this place could never elicit mere dread.

Kwaak!
Gripping my spear tightly, I gazed squarely at the enemy forces charging our position.
“Come on…”
Muttering words that could be mistaken for insanity, I cooled my heated mind. Do not be consumed by emotion – the battlefield may be an crucible of heightened feelings more than anywhere else, but one must never lose composure. I recited Zhang Fei’s teachings.

And then – impact.
Springing forward to meet the onrushing foe.
Thrusting my spear forth.
Uujjik!
An altogether alien sensation lanced up my arms – nothing like slicing meat for cooking, but the act of severing a life.
The shock of my first kill was hazier than I could have imagined. Some primal part of my brain, recognizing the peril of losing myself amid the surrounding carnage, seemed to automatically suppress it.
In stark contrast to my pounding heart, my rational mind remained coolly functional, issuing its next directive:

Kagaak!
Deflecting an incoming blade through the ‘na’ deflecting technique, I followed by impaling my spear straight through the enemy’s throat.
Only after dispatching those two foes could I fully take in my surroundings – our forces yet unable to form proper ranks amidst Cao Ren’s troops bursting through, resulting in a furious skirmish melee.

‘What of Zhang Fei?’
At the vanguard, Zhang Fei must have borne the full brunt of Cao Cao’s charging forces head-on. Yet no matter his fabled peerless might…he was still human, wasn’t he?

‘No, he was no mere human.’
The area around Zhang Fei resembled a raging typhoon, enemy soldiers scattering like leaves with each swing of his spear.
I had assumed the lauded ‘peerless brothers-in-arms’ referred only to their being capable of feats equal to a thousand men. But witnessing Zhang Fei’s whirlwind slaughter firsthand, the prospect of him literally taking on a thousand foes seemed perfectly plausible – a human blender, nothing less.

In an instant, Zhang Fei obliterated the soldiers swarming him before spurring his steed forward, likely heading for the breach in the encirclement where Cao Ren himself would be located.
Part of me dearly wished to witness the fabled ‘Heaven’s Bestowed General’ Cao Ren in action. But this was no fan meeting – becoming distracted on an actual battlefield meant courting death.

Refocusing on my immediate surroundings, I visualized the overall situation: Cao Ren’s troops had punched through the northern central gate in a spearhead formation led by Cao Ren himself.
Zhang Fei on the right flank had overcome the relatively smaller Cao Cao forces there and was now charging towards the center.
It seemed his strategy was to calmly cut through from the rear, steadily depleting Cao Ren’s strength before the latter encountered Guan Yu’s secondary encirclement waiting ahead.

Naturally, Zhang Fei’s troops followed his lead towards the center. The deeper he advanced, the closer we neared the focal point as well.
The two most perilous positions in a breakthrough were the vanguard penetrating the enemy lines, and the rearguard stemming the enemy’s pursuit.
We faced the latter – Cao Ren’s forces resigned to death furiously pressed us back despite Zhang Fei’s mere thousand against their far superior rearguard numbers, slowing his advance.

Amid this, an enemy commander rapidly closing on the encircled Zhang Fei entered my field of vision.
Truthfully, Zhang Fei could likely obliterate even a commander joining the fray, leaving no historical records of him being injured – a notable figure like him would have left accounts akin to Zhou Yu’s documented injuries.
Yet could I simply stand idly by, calling myself Zhang Fei’s daughter?

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I opened my throat and roared towards the enemy commander with every ounce of my being:
“HALT—!”
Shockingly, my thunderous bellow echoed with the same booming quality as Zhang Fei’s, as if inheriting that trait alongside his divine martial prowess.
The piercing shout startled the commander’s mounted steed into faltering. Seizing this chance, I flung aside the sword I had switched to and gestured frantically to Zhan San.
“Zhan San! The spear!”
“Huh? Y-Yes!”
Though bewildered, Zhan San obediently tossed me his spear.

Snatching it in one fluid motion, I arched my body back while extending my other arm fully forward as if tracking the spear’s trajectory.
‘Not too far. I can make this throw.’
I had practiced spear-throwing, though not extensively. But the target was sufficiently large and the range short. Fortuitously, the commander’s spooked steed was struggling to regain its footing, momentarily immobilized.

And I let the spear fly.
My taut, coiled body unwound as the spear rocketed forth, cleaving the air.
Had I aimed for the commander himself, he likely would have evaded or deflected it – disoriented perhaps, but unharmed.
However, my true target was not the man, but his steed.

“Hiiihiiihiiing!”
The moment my spear struck true, the horse released a tortured whinny. Its hind legs collapsing from the impact, the beast crumpled, its rider violently flung from the saddle to crash heavily onto the ground.
Though the commander attempted to utilize falling techniques, the sheer abruptness of the ambush seemed to have left one arm injured, hanging limply by his side.

Spotting their commander’s disabled state, soldiers immediately swarmed – only for the commander to demonstrate his formidable skills, whirling his spear one-armed to scatter them with contemptuous ease.
No wonder Cao Ren had entrusted him with the rearguard – the ‘Furious General’ moniker fit this intimidating warrior to a tee.

Swiftly clearing the surrounding area, the enraged commander turned towards my direction, eyes narrowing as he pinpointed me.
“So it was you, whelp?”