Chapter Forty-Six: Zhao Yun Presents the Spear

To serve a monarch is like keeping company with a tiger; if one’s own daughter were to provoke the beast, and the tiger flew into a rage, not even a scrap of her would remain.

Zhao Xiaoyun ran off in distress, and Liu Zan showed not the slightest sign of anger, which, without a doubt, allowed Zhao Yun to breathe a sigh of relief.

Yet, as he recalled the emperor’s boxing technique and their earlier bout, Zhao Yun could not help but marvel at the uniqueness of this art. The movements appeared gentle, yet contained a hidden strength; they seemed tranquil and graceful, yet within stillness, there was motion.

He asked, “Your Majesty, did you truly create this boxing style yourself?”

Liu Zan, ever thick-skinned, replied, “Of course it was my own creation. Has Uncle Zilong perhaps seen this set of movements before?”

Zhao Yun stroked his beard and shook his head. “Never have I seen nor heard of such a thing!” He continued, “Then what does Your Majesty call this boxing style?”

“From the Supreme Ultimate comes the Two Forms, from the Two Forms the Four Images, from the Four Images the Eight Trigrams. I took inspiration from the words of antiquity and thus named this art: Taiji Boxing!” Liu Zan rambled, knowing well enough the phrase was from the Book of Changes, and that it belonged to ancient philosophy. Beyond that, it was outside the scope of his engineering background, and as he tried to improvise further, he found himself at a loss for words.

“Taiji Boxing?” Zhao Yun, a true master of martial arts, began to understand as soon as he heard the emperor’s explanation.

The fusion of yin and yang truly matched the emperor’s display—an art of both hardness and softness, motion within stillness!

He then recalled the emperor’s earlier recitation: “Let him be as strong as he may, the breeze brushes the mountain just the same!”

After a long while, the phrase “Heaven-blessed talent” escaped Zhao Yun once more, but this time, both his expression and demeanor were far more sincere.

Liu Zan touched his nose, just about to say something modest, when unexpectedly Zhao Yun let out a thunderous shout!

“Attendants!”

Though Zhao Yun was advanced in years, his voice remained robust; his shout likely resounded throughout the entire General Zhao Yun’s Mansion.

Liu Zan, too, was startled.

Once the servants entered, Zhao Yun ordered, “Bring me my Dragon Gall Spear!”

Liu Zan and the others exchanged puzzled glances.

A moment later, a servant emerged carrying a long spear, entirely silver-white, the tip razor-sharp, gleaming coldly in the sunlight. A mighty dragon was coiled around the shaft, winding up to the spearhead.

Liu Zan immediately recognized it—Zhao Yun’s famed weapon, the Dragon Gall Spear.

This spear had accompanied him through years of battle, earning countless honors.

In the famous battle of Changban Slope, Zhao Yun, wielding this very spear, moved through Cao Cao’s army as though it were empty space, rescuing Liu Shan. One could say, without this spear, there would have been no Liu Shan, and thus no Liu Zan’s journey across time.

Judging by the servant’s posture as he carried it, the spear was far from light.

Yet Zhao Yun grasped it single-handedly, leapt from the edge of the training ground, and, by Liu Zan’s estimation, soared nearly two meters before landing steadily at the center.

“Your Majesty, please observe my spear technique,” Zhao Yun declared, spear in hand.

Liu Zan drew the empress and the others back from the field’s edge and called out, “Uncle Zilong, show your skill to the fullest! I shall watch with utmost attention!”

With the emperor’s permission, Zhao Yun tossed the Dragon Gall Spear vertically into the air. As it descended, he leapt up, seized the tail with his right hand, brushed the shaft with his left as though greeting an old friend, and, upon landing, drove the spear fiercely into the ground.

A piercing sound split the air, and a cloud of dust rose from the training ground, followed by the crackling of shattered stone.

Liu Zan saw the bluestone pavement splintered and broken.

In a flash, Zhao Yun retrieved the spear, his form shifting rapidly. With each movement, the spear danced—sometimes thrusting, sometimes parrying, sometimes slicing, sometimes smashing. It seemed almost sentient in his grasp, wielded with effortless mastery, each stroke brimming with tremendous force that inspired awe.

Liu Zan suddenly felt that, faced with Zhao Yun’s spear, he would die the moment he touched it.

At his side, the empress unconsciously clung to Liu Zan’s arm, tears streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, “Your Majesty, seeing General Zhao wield his spear, I suddenly remember my father.”

In her mind, Zhao Yun’s figure blurred and became that of her own father, Zhang Fei, the spear transforming into the Eight-Zhang Serpent Spear.

Liu Zan nodded in silent comfort.

Not only the empress—even he himself was swept back to the waning years of the Han, when heroes rose from every corner and talents were as common as dogs.

After a display of sweeping, powerful moves, Zhao Yun withdrew his spear, cradled it in both hands, and walked to stand before Liu Zan.

Liu Zan, his face full of longing, said, “Uncle Zilong, such might! When will I ever possess even a fraction of your grandeur?”

Zhao Yun shook his head. “Your Majesty is heaven-gifted; with time, you will surely surpass me!”

With that, he sank to his knees, raised the Dragon Gall Spear above his head, and said, “Your Majesty, I have a most presumptuous request, and I beg you to grant it!”

Liu Zan, puzzled, bent down to help Zhao Yun up. “Uncle Zilong, there’s no need for this. Please rise and speak.”

But his own strength was no match for Zhao Yun’s; the old general did not budge.

Zhao Yun continued, “Your Majesty, I am old now and will have no more chance to fight on the battlefield. I cannot bear for this Dragon Gall Spear to be shamed by my decline. Today, I wish to present this spear to Your Majesty, that it may shine once more. I beg you to accept it!”

“How could I?” Liu Zan shook his head. “How could I deserve such a storied weapon, your Dragon Gall Spear?”

Zhao Yun paused, then said, “I have racked my brains, and I can think of no one in Shu who is worthy to bear this spear—no one but Your Majesty. I implore you to accept it and treat it well, that it may find glory again!”

Moved by Zhao Yun’s heartfelt request, and wanting a fine weapon for himself, Liu Zan no longer declined. “Very well, Uncle Zilong, I accept!”

He had once dreamed of one day unearthing Lu Bu’s tomb to find the Skyward Halberd, but never imagined that at the very start of his journey through time, he would be entrusted with a weapon of such renown—the Dragon Gall Spear of Changshan Zhao Zilong!

He stretched out his hands and grasped the spear.

He had anticipated its weight; as he lifted it, he truly felt its heaviness.

Good heavens—his face flushed red. He estimated the Dragon Gall Spear weighed seventy or eighty catties.

Though he could lift it, holding it for long would not be easy. So he drew a semicircle with the spear and drove the butt hard into the ground, producing a deep, resonant sound.

Only then did he exhale and say, “Uncle Zilong, watch as I, too, stand unyielding in this world, just like this Dragon Gall Spear!”

Joy lit up Zhao Yun’s face. He bowed several times—once to thank the emperor, and again to show gratitude to the spear that had accompanied him all his life.

Only after these bows did Zhao Yun rise and say, “Your Majesty, please join me for a banquet in the front hall!”

Apart from the weight of the Dragon Gall Spear, which made it a challenge for Liu Zan to carry, the ensuing feast was a time of joy between ruler and subject. Zhao Yun also agreed to Liu Zan’s request to enter the palace every seven days and instruct him in the art of the spear.