The first morning of Book 3 opened quietly, beneath the blades of four directions gathering toward Shouchun (壽春).

From the north, at Xudu (許都), Cao Cao’s one hundred and seventy thousand main army raised its banners. Upon one corner of the banners hung an edict of the Son of Heaven. Cao Cao spoke a low word into the great tent. “Let us move, and lay the usurper’s crown upon the ground.” Xiahou Dun (夏侯惇) took the vanguard; Cao Ren (曹仁) took the rear army. The blade of the north began that morning to move toward Shouchun in the south.

From the south, at Jiangdong (江東), Sun Ce’s thirty thousand water forces raised the sails of their ships. Zhou Yu (周瑜) stood at the head of the lead ship. Taishi Ci (太史慈) carried a bow upon his shoulder; Zhang Zhao (張昭) and Zhang Hong (張紘) stood behind. Sun Ce spoke low before the rudder. “Let us go to reclaim my father’s jade seal.” The thirty thousand of Jiangdong turned northward upon the waves of the Yangzi.

From the east, at Xuzhou (徐州), Liu Bei’s twenty thousand foot soldiers drew up their array inside the gate of Xiaopei (小沛). Guan Yu (關羽) took up the Green-Dragon Crescent Blade (靑龍偃月刀); Zhang Fei (張飛) lifted the Serpent Spear of Eighteen zhang (丈八蛇矛). Liu Bei laid a hand upon the shoulders of his two brothers. “Today’s blade is the blade of a subject of Han.” The twenty thousand of Xuzhou began that morning to move toward Shouchun in the southwest.

Meanwhile, in another camp of the same Xuzhou, Lü Bu’s thirty thousand cavalry stood in a single file. Chen Gong (陳宮) stood beside Lü Bu. Lü Bu took up the Sky-Piercing Halberd (方天畵戟). “A single arrow at the camp-gate lulled one battle; today the same blade moves to lay a usurper’s crown.” The thirty thousand of Lü Bu began to move in the same direction. The blades of four directions were moving together that morning toward one center.

Upon the altar of Shouchun, Yuan Shu (袁術) received the news. The twelve strands of jade of his crown of pendants (冕旒冠) swayed lightly. Yuan Shu sighed low. “I had said that the shade of my name was larger than the blades of all under heaven; yet this morning, the blades of four directions are moving toward my altar together.” Ji Ling (紀靈) stood before the tent. “My Lord. The walls of Shouchun are firm. If we hold the walls and break only one of the four blades, the remaining three will collapse of their own accord before Your Lordship’s altar.”

Yuan Shu nodded. The gates of Shouchun were shut firmly. A writing was handed to an envoy and sent toward Liu Bei. Its first line read: “Lord Liu Xuande. Before the steps of this blade of a subject of Han approaching a usurper’s altar, please remember first the old righteousness (義) between us two, which stands closer than the distant name of Xudu.” Yuan Shu’s hand faltered at the end of that writing.

Liu Bei received the writing and read it. Guan Yu bowed his head low. “Elder brother. This line is a snare. Beneath the front line of Han’s edict, such a line cannot be laid.” Liu Bei nodded. He burned the writing in a flame. The ash rose into the air; the twenty thousand foot soldiers moved one step farther toward Shouchun.

Far to the south, upon the lead ship of Sun Ce, Zhou Yu drew a chart of the river from his sleeve. He showed Sun Ce the bend of the Yangzi where the two armies, his own and Liu Bei’s, would begin to see each other’s banners across open water. Sun Ce laid a finger upon that bend and did not speak. A man who has long waited to move his father’s unfinished blade rarely speaks in the hour that blade is at last moving. Zhou Yu folded the chart and put it back. The ship rocked at a small wave; the twelve jade strands of Yuan Shu’s crown, many days’ sailing ahead, had begun to sway, as if each of them knew that a chart had, at this hour, been folded.

At Xudu, behind Cao Cao’s banner, Xun Yu watched the rearmost wagons of grain leave the supply yard. He did not speak to the quartermaster. A counselor whose plan has drawn four blades toward a single altar rarely inspects his own wagons in the hour they move. He only counted the wagons as they passed: one hundred, two hundred, three hundred, until the last wagon rolled through the gate of Xudu and turned south. Guo Jia stood beside him and did not count. “Wenruo,” Guo Jia said at last, low. “Today the shade of our own name has, for the first time, grown larger than the one we pulled down.” Xun Yu nodded and did not answer. Some acknowledgments, made between two counselors upon a single gate, require no reply within the hour they are spoken.

The first morning of Book 3 opened quietly, beneath the blades of four directions gathering toward Shouchun. The three characters Sadohoe (四刀會, four blades meeting at one seat) were planted as a seed: the breath on which one hundred and seventy thousand of the north, thirty thousand water forces of the south, twenty thousand foot of the east, and thirty thousand cavalry of Xuzhou moved together toward one center. The premonition of Day 60’s Chamgwallak (僭冠落) had, this morning, turned into the first step of four blades in four directions.

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