Mythical Version of Three Kingdom

Zhao Yun gave Chen Xi a way out, and Zhang Fei unintentionally set himself up. It was already October, and although the lunar calendar still had two months of November, winter was approaching.

“So, General Zhang, you agree to the retirement plan, as long as it’s done in phases and doesn’t impact combat effectiveness or invite trouble from other lords?” Chen Xi rephrased Zhang Fei’s earlier suggestion of retiring soldiers in batches.

Zhang Fei paused for a moment, then realized that’s exactly what he meant. Nodding foolishly, he said, “Yes, that’s what I meant. Zilong, what’s wrong?” Zhang Fei noticed Zhao Yun rubbing his forehead and sitting down, looking confused.

“General Zhang, you really…” Zhao Yun forced a bitter smile as he handed over the burden to Zhang Fei. “You’ll handle this, right?”

“What’s going on? What did I do?” Zhang Fei still didn’t understand.

“Military Advisor, please ensure that a basic defensive force is retained, even during the winter rest period,” Zhao Yun added, conceding defeat. It was clear they wouldn’t win this argument. As long as they could keep some forces intact, that would suffice.

Zhang Fei, reminded by Zhao Yun, realized that winter was coming—a time when wars rarely occurred, with most lords focusing on assessing the year’s outcomes and preparing for winter.

Reflecting on what he had said earlier, Zhang Fei realized that his suggestion at this time was essentially throwing his comrades under the bus. Who would consider the timing when discussing troop reductions? This wasn’t fair!

“Hey, Zichuan, I misspoke just now. Don’t take it seriously,” Zhang Fei quickly backtracked, playing the sympathy card instead of sticking to the original argument. “My corps only has four thousand soldiers. If we follow the requirements, half of them might be cut. What will I do without soldiers? My elite infantry and cavalry can take on ten men each. Discharging them would be a waste. Why not cut the Tuntian troops instead?”

The civil officials all covered their faces in embarrassment. Zhang Fei’s shamelessness was astounding—suggesting they cut the farming soldiers instead.“Zichuan, please have mercy on your third brother. His soldiers have been with him for years, some from as far back as Zhuo County, for five or six years now. If they all leave, how will I explain it to the villagers?” Zhang Fei continued pleading, leaning on his thick skin, knowing that his fellow generals would back him up.

Chen Xi’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably. Zhang Fei was clearly playing dirty. The Zhuo County recruits were enlisted in the spring of 188, so they’d only been around for five years at most. Most of them had probably died during the Yellow Turban Rebellion. Even if they had all survived, they’d only be in their twenties. Moreover, the welfare benefits Lu Su had prepared for these discharged soldiers were more than generous. Even if they didn’t join the city management and patrol forces, they could still retire comfortably in their hometowns.

“Third Brother, you must understand my difficulties. Once enlisted, there’s no end to their service. We also need to consider the soldiers’ well-being. Giving them a way out might actually increase their chances of survival,” Chen Xi countered with emotional appeals, playing along with Zhang Fei’s tactics. After all, they were all familiar with each other, so why not?

Zhang Fei was about to speak, but Chen Xi cut him off. “Besides, I’m not limiting your troop numbers. I’m only discharging those who don’t meet the standards. You can recruit and train new soldiers. If you discharge three hundred veterans and feel your combat strength has decreased by three hundred and thirty, then recruit three hundred and thirty more. As for where you’ll get the equipment for those extra thirty, that’s not my concern,” Chen Xi said with a mischievous grin.

Liu Bei paused, then remembered why Chen Xi had set the military unit size at 4,000 to 5,000 soldiers but only provided funding for 4,000.

Zhang Fei hesitated, glancing at Liu Bei. This was something Liu Bei needed to approve. After all, this meant an additional 10% of troops out of thin air. If they took it seriously and conducted a large-scale restructuring, a unit could easily gain an extra 500 regular soldiers!

As for funding and equipment, they could scrape it together somehow. The key was having the structure in place. Once that was secured, raising a force would be easy, whether through confiscation or purchase.

In this chaotic era, every army was overstaffed. Zhang Fei might cry about only having 4,000 soldiers, but in reality, any count would likely reveal 4,500. Everyone—from Liu Bei to Lu Su, who managed finances, and Liu Ye, who handled statistics—turned a blind eye as long as the overstaffing wasn’t excessive.

Moreover, Liu Bei remembered that Chen Xi’s original full-strength unit size was 6,000 soldiers, with 5,000 being the standard. But when Chen Xi issued the orders, the units were capped at 4,000, which reminded Liu Bei that as long as a unit didn’t exceed 5,000, they could look the other way. Heading toward 6,000 would warrant a warning, and exceeding 6,000 would land them on a blacklist, barring special circumstances.

“Zichuan thinks some of the older and weaker soldiers no longer meet the requirements. Eight companies per unit seem a bit thin, so we’re adding one more company’s worth of troops. The condition is that each unit must discharge those who don’t meet the standards,” Liu Bei decided to fill in the extra 10% Chen Xi had begrudgingly allowed, bolstering the ranks with another company of infantry. The generals couldn’t have been happier.

In this era, a general’s worth was often measured by the number of troops they commanded and their victories in battle. The more men under their command, the greater their prestige.

With Liu Bei’s approval, Zhang Fei relaxed, confidently pledging to discharge any unfit soldiers and replenish his ranks. He planned to train his troops well over the winter and emerge in the spring with a crack unit. Gone was the earlier gloom.

Likewise, all the generals promised to purge their ranks of unfit soldiers, creating a harmonious scene between civil and military officials. In reality, the generals had gained the upper hand while pretending to comply.

If their command had genuinely been reduced, these generals would have caused an uproar and never forgotten to give Chen Xi trouble in the future. But now, it was a win-win situation. Little did they know that Chen Xi’s original plan had set the full-strength unit size at 6,000, and he had intentionally reduced it by 30% to use as bait for the future.

After all, as long as they were generals, they’d always be receptive to talk of retaining command. As long as it wasn’t a matter of principle, they’d accept. But this time, it seemed like Chen Xi had conceded a bit too much. Next time, he’d need to coordinate with Liu Bei before making such a move. Although Liu Bei understood, he’d just lost a quarter of their bargaining power for future negotiations with the military.

Chen Xi sighed helplessly as he glanced at Liu Bei, unsure of what to say.