A person’s circumstances are inseparable from the social environment they live in.
In the world Miss Mengde came from before her transmigration, there was a brilliant summary of this idea: a person is the sum total of their social relationships.
Take Liu Bei, for example.
Many say he was born a commoner, but clearly, if Liu Bei had truly been just an ordinary man, then during the Yellow Turban Rebellion ten years later, he would have ended up as a foot soldier in the army—not leading a private force of hundreds to fight alongside the imperial army.
‘What kind of commoner can casually form a startup team of several hundred people?’
Liu Bei’s true status should be described as that of a fallen aristocrat, not a mere commoner.
The concept is simple: in the modern world, someone like the founders of Alibaba or Tencent might have started as commoners, and so did a dropout from a rural village.
But can both these cases of becoming wealthy be called the same kind of “rags-to-riches” story?
Liu Bei’s father and grandfather were both government officials.
His mother came from a powerful gentry family.
His clan elders were wealthy enough to support him as he mingled with aristocratic youths in Luoyang.
This alone set him far above 99.9% of the Han dynasty’s commoners.
It was precisely because Liu Bei grew up in such a privileged environment that he developed that kind of bold and passionate personality—one that loved the people like his own children.
Even in the chaos of the late Han, he often showed a kind of unrealistic mercy.
There’s a quote from Robinson Crusoe that comes to mind: [Upon close observation, one may discover everywhere that the miseries of life are shared by those at the top and the bottom, while those in the middle suffer the least.]
[The middle class is not like the rich, plagued by extravagance, waste, and spiritual emptiness, nor like the poor, worn down by hardship, hunger, and the stress these cause. A moderate life is best suited to virtue and a balanced enjoyment of things. Stability and prosperity are constant companions of the middle class.]
Liu Bei, in the Eastern Han, belonged to a class much like this middle stratum.
Those with higher status than Liu Bei—like Cao Cao or Yuan Shao—often became ruthless because of the brutal nature of power struggles.
Those with lower status—like Zhang Fei or Mi Zhu—couldn’t even get a seat at the table due to their background.
Why did Zhang Fei and Mi Zhu give up their fortunes to support Liu Bei? Because before meeting him, they were merely local strongmen and merchants—nothing more than prey in the eyes of government officials.
Liu Bei’s character—the kind that wins hearts and inspires loyalty—could only have been nurtured in the carefree upbringing of a middle-class household.
That’s why Liu Bei’s rise to power seems so romantic in the eyes of modern readers.
After all, romanticism is a luxury typically reserved for the middle class or petite bourgeoisie.
The powerful and the destitute often have no choice but to face stark realism.
The chaos of the late Han was, in truth, a misfortune for Liu Bei.
His early life was spent in a greenhouse-like environment.
Had he been born in the earlier, more stable years of the Eastern Han, it’s very likely that his achievements would not have stopped in Yi Province.
He might have risen to a high office in the central court, perhaps becoming one of the Three Excellencies or Nine Ministers.
Throwing someone like Liu Bei into the end-of-Han chaos was like tossing a delicate flower from a greenhouse straight into a snowstorm.
It would be more surprising if he didn’t get blown to pieces.
Fortunately, Liu Bei survived—and grew ever more resilient.
He gradually adapted to, and even reshaped, the environment of the late Han.
Unfortunately, he adapted too late.
By the time he truly understood the rules of the late Han and had the help of Zhuge Liang, he was nearly fifty years old.
He had less than twenty years left to live.
And if the late Han’s chaos was a snowstorm for Liu Bei and the average citizen, then the social environment of the northern nomads must have been something closer to the icy wastelands of the polar regions.
Of course the barbarians weren’t born that way.
‘Do you think they want to live lives where they don’t know if they’ll survive the next day, gnawing on raw meat and drinking from muddy streams?’
‘Obviously not. Everyone longs for a stable life.’
‘Unfortunately, for the herders on the grasslands, the kind of peaceful life the people in the Central Plains enjoy is nothing more than a myth.’
They spend their entire lives struggling to survive on barren land, and when they truly can’t go on any longer, they head south—into the Central Plains—and try to rob what they can.
‘Yes, robbers are despicable.’
But what’s even more despicable… is the environment that forces people to become robbers.
When a man who kills and steals just for the thrill gets gunned down, everyone applauds.
But when someone who robs because he’ll starve otherwise is cornered into doing so—
Well, who could bring themselves to easily say, “Shoot him”?
To Mengde, the herders of the grasslands were clearly the latter type.
“…”
Liu Bei fell into a thoughtful silence.
He had always cared deeply about the common people.
And now, after hearing the girl speak in defense of the nomadic tribes, he couldn’t help but feel shaken.
***
Mengde continued, “Liu Bei, earlier, when you said those things—about the barbarians not even being human—I felt really upset. Do you know why? It wasn’t because I felt bad for the barbarians. It was because I felt bad for people like you, people from the frontier.”
“Because every time the northern border counties are invaded, and the court debates how to respond, there’s always someone who says, ‘Are frontier folk even people? If they die, they die.’ If you go around treating the barbarians as subhuman, then don’t forget— Many court officials have never viewed the commoners as human either. I just hope that one day, you don’t become that kind of official.”
“I…”
Liu Bei’s heart wavered even more.
Then Mengde delivered the final, decisive blow.
“Lastly, do you really think those herders struck by white disaster would just sit and wait to die peacefully? If the Xiongnu and Xianbei are devastated by the snow and we don’t offer aid, what do you think they’ll do when they reach their breaking point?”
“They’ll head south in force. Now tell me—do you think Zhuo Commandery will be spared from their attack? Xuande, you don’t want the Xianbei ravaging your hometown, do you?”
“Alright! I understand now. I support your plan, Miss!”
No matter how noble one’s ideals are, they can never outweigh the importance of one’s own loved ones.
And when Liu Bei realized that the Xianbei could very well invade Zhuo Commandery if nothing was done, he didn’t hesitate for a second.
He fully agreed with the girl’s aid plan.
“Then go and start preparing for the journey—everything from personnel to supplies. It all needs to be in order,” Miss Mengde said with a dazzling smile.
“This will be a test for you. If you can’t even organize a simple expedition, how will you ever become a general or hold office in the future? Make sure you do it well!”
“Yes!”
Hearing Mengde’s words, Liu Bei was filled with energy.
He, too, wanted to see what he was capable of at this point in time.
Still, as his motivation surged, he couldn’t help but glance at the girl in confusion.
“Wait, Miss… if I’m the one handling all the preparations, what will you be doing next?”
Mengde answered seriously, “I’ve got a lot to do. First, I need to think about who can replace me—Who can assist that useless old man I call Father…”
So at this point in time, who among the future top strategists had already matured?
As she spoke, Miss Mengde once again fell into deep thought.