Chapter IX…

Chapter IX

LÜ PU HELPS TO SUPPRESS DISORDER: CHIA HSÜ COUNSELS AN ATTACK ON THE CAPITAL.

The person who collided with the irate Tung Cho was his most trusty adviser Li Ju. Li had not fallen in spite of the shock and at once helped his master to regain his feet and led him inside to the library, where they sat down.

“What were you coming about?”

“Happening to be passing your gates I heard that you had gone into your private garden to look for your adopted son. Then came Lü Pu running and crying out that you wanted to kill him, and I was coming in as fast as I could to intercede for him when I accidentally collided with you. I am very sorry. I deserve death.”

“The wretch! How could I bear to see him toying with my fair one? I will be the death of him yet.”

“Your Graciousness is making a mistake. It is the ‘plucked tassel’ story over again. But if you remember Prince Chuang of Chʻu made no fuss about the liberties taken with his lady love, although the hat-tassel in her hand betrayed the culprit. His restraint stood him in good stead, for the same man saved his life when he was hemmed in by the hosts of Tsʻin. After all Cicada is only a woman, but Lü Pu is your trustiest friend and most dreaded commander. If you took this chance of making the girl over to him, your kindness would win his undying gratitude. I beg you, Sir, to think over it well.”

Tung Cho hesitated a long time; he sat murmuring to himself. Presently he said, “What you say is right. I must think over it.”

Li Ju felt satisfied. He took leave of his master and went away. Cho went to his private rooms and called Cicada.

“What were you doing there with Lü Pu?” said he.

She began to weep. “Thy handmaid was in the garden among the flowers, when he rushed in on me. I was frightened and ran away. He asked why I ran away from a son of the family and pursued me right to the pavilion, where you saw us. He had that halberd in his hand all the time. I felt he was a vicious man and would force me to his will so I tried to throw myself into the lily pond, but he caught me in his arms and held me so that I was helpless. Luckily just at that moment you came and saved my life.”

“Suppose I send you to him.”

She shrieked with terror.

“After having been yours to be given to a mere slave! Never! I would rather die.”

And with this she snatched down a dagger hanging on the wall to kill herself. Tung Cho plucked it from her hand and, throwing his arms about her, cried, “I was only joking.”

She lay back on his breast hiding her face and sobbing bitterly. “This is the doing of that Li Ju,” said she. “He is much too thick with Lü Pu. He suggested that, I know. Little he cares for your reputation or my life. Oh! I would like to eat him alive.”

“Do you think I could bear to lose you?”

“Though you love me yet I must not stay here. That Lü Pu will do me some harm if I do. I fear him.”

“We will go to Meiwu to-morrow, you and I, and we will be happy together and have no cares.”

She dried her tears and thanked him. Next day Li Ju came again to persuade Tung Cho to send the damsel to Lü Pu. “This is a propitious day,” said he.

“He and I standing in the relation of father and son I cannot very well do that,” said Tung Cho. “But I will say no more about his fault. You may tell him so and soothe him as well as you can.”

“You are not being beguiled by the woman, are you?” said Li.

Tung Cho coloured. “Would you like to give your wife to some body else? Do not talk about this any further. It would be better not to.”

Li left the chamber. When he got outside he cast his eyes up to heaven, saying, “We are dead men, slain by the hand of this girl.”

When a certain student of history reached this episode he wrote a verse or two:—

Just introduce a woman, Conspiracies succeed; Of soldiers, or their weapons, There really is no need. They fought their bloody battles, And doughty deeds were done; But in a garden summer house The victory was won.

The order was given to journey to Meiwu and the whole body of officers assembled to add lustre to the start. Cicada, from her carriage, saw Lü Pu among the crowd. She at once dropped her eyes and assumed an appearance of deepest melancholy. After the cavalcade started and when her carriage had almost disappeared in the distance, the disappointed lover reined in his steed on a mount whence he could watch the dust that rose around it. Unutterable sadness filled his heart.

Suddenly a voice said, “Why do you not accompany the Minister, Marquis, instead of standing here and sighing?”

It was Wan Yün. “I have been confined to the house by illness these few days,” continued he, “so I have not seen you. But I had to struggle out to-day to see the Minister set off. This meeting is most fortunate. But why were you sighing?”

“Just on account of that damsel of yours,” said Lü Pu.

Feigning great astonishment he said, “So long a time and yet not given to you!”

“The old ruffian has fallen in love with her himself.”

“Surely this cannot be true.”

Lü Pu related the whole story while Wang Yün listened, silent, but stamping on the ground as with irritation and perplexity. After a long time he said, “I did not think he was such a beast.”

Taking Lü Pu by the hand he said, “Come to my house and we will talk it over.”

So they went away together to the house and retired to a secret room. After some refreshments, Lü Pu told the whole story of the episode in the garden just as it happened.

“He seems to have corrupted my little girl and has stolen your wife. He will be an object of shame and ridicule to the whole world. And those who do not laugh at him will laugh at you and me. Alas! I am old and powerless and can do nothing. More’s the pity! But you, Commander, you are a warrior, the greatest hero in the world. Yet you have been put to this shame and exposed to this contempt.”

A wave of fierce wrath rolled up in Lü Pu. Banging the table he shouted and roared. His host ostentatiously tried to calm him saying, “I forgot myself. I should not have spoken like that. Do not be so angry, I pray.”

“I will kill the wretch, I swear it. In no other way can I wash away my shame.”

“No, no! Do not say such a thing,” said Wang, putting his hand over the other’s mouth. “You will bring trouble on poor me.”

“When a man is born great he cannot be patient for long under another man’s domination,” said Lü Pu.

“It needs some one greater than the Minister to limit the scope of such talents as yours.”

Lü Pu said, “I would not mind killing the old wretch were it not for the relation in which we stand. I fear to provoke the hostile criticism of posterity.”

His host smiled. “Your name is Lü; his is Tung. Where was the paternal feeling when he threw the halberd at you?”

“I had been misled if you had not said that,” said Lü hotly.

Wang Yün saw the effect of his words and continued, “It would be a loyal deed to restore the House of Han, and history would hand down your name to posterity perpetually fragrant. If you lend your aid to Tung Cho you will be a traitor and your name will stink through all the ages.”

Lü Pu rose from his place and bowed to Wang Yün. “I have decided,” said he. “You need not fear, Sir.”

“But yet you may fail and bring upon yourself misfortune,” said Wang.

Lü Pu drew his dagger and pricking his arm swore by the blood that flowed.

Wang fell on his knees and thanked him. “Then the Han sacrifices will not be cut off and you will be their saviour. But this must remain a secret and I will tell you how the plot shall be worked out.”

Lü Pu took leave with great emotion.

Wang Yün took into his confidence two colleagues, Sun Jui and Huang Yüan. The former said, “The moment is favourable. The Emperor has just recovered from his illness and we can despatch an able talker to Meiwu to persuade Tung Cho to come here to discuss affairs. Meanwhile we will obtain a secret decree as authority for Lü Pu. Lay an ambush just inside the palace gates to kill Cho as he enters. This is the best plan to adopt.”

“But who would dare to go?”

“Li Su would go. He belongs to the same district as Lü Pu and is very angry with the Minister for not advancing him. His going would excite no suspicions.”

“Good,” said Wang Yün. “Let us see what Lü Pu thinks of it.”

When Pu was consulted he told them that this man’s persuasion had led him to kill Ting, his former benefactor. “If he refuse this mission I will kill him,” said he.

So they sent for Li Su. When he arrived Lü Pu said, “Formerly you talked me into killing Ting and going over to Tung Cho. Now we find Tung Cho means evil for the Emperor and is an oppressor of the people. His iniquities are many and he is hated of gods and men. You go to Meiwu, say you have a command from the Emperor to summon Tung Cho to the palace. He will come and he will be put to death. You will have the credit of being loyal and restoring the Hans. Will you undertake this?”

“I also wish to slay him,” was the reply. “But I could not find any to assist me. How can I hesitate? Your intervention is directly from heaven.”

And he snapped an arrow in twain as register of his oath.

“If this succeed, what glorious rank will be yours!” said Wang Yün.

Next day Li Su, with a small escort, set out for Meiwu and announced himself as bearer of a decree. He was conducted into Tung Cho’s presence. After he had made his obeisance Tung asked what the decree was.

“His Majesty has recovered and wishes his ministers to meet him in the palace to consider the question of his abdication in your favour. That is what this summons means.”

“What does Wang Yün think of the scheme?”

“Wang Yün has already begun the construction of the Terrace of Abdication and only awaits my lord’s arrival.”

“Last night I dreamed a dragon coiled round my body,” said Tung Cho greatly pleased, “and now I get this happy tidings! I must not neglect the opportunity.”

So he gave instructions for the safekeeping of his city and announced his intention of starting on the morrow.

“When I am Emperor you shall be my Precursor,” said he.

“Your minister thanks you,” said Li.

Cho went to bid farewell to his aged mother. “Whither are you going, my son?”

“I go to receive the abdication of Han; and soon you will be Empress Dowager.”

“I have been feeling nervous and creepy these few days. It is a bad sign.”

“Any one about to become the mother of the State must have premonitions,” said her son.

He left her with these words. Just before starting he said to Cicada, “When I am Emperor, you shall be Kuei-fei, the first of my ladies.” She bowed low thanking him, but she knew and inwardly rejoiced.

He went out and mounted his carriage, and began his journey to the Capital with an imposing escort. Less than half way the wheel of his carriage broke. He left it and mounted a horse. Soon after the horse snorted and neighed, threw up his head and snapped the reins.

Tung Cho turned to Li Su and asked what these things portended.

“It means that you are going to receive the abdication of the Hans, which is to renew all things, to mount the jewelled chariot and sit in the golden saddle.”

And Cho believed him. During the second day’s journey a violent gale sprang up and the sky became covered with a thick mist. The wily Li Su had an interpretation for this also. “You are ascending to the place of the dragon; there must be bright light and lurid vapour to dignify your majestic approach.”

Cho had no more doubts. He presently arrived and found many officials waiting without the city gate to receive him, all but Li Ju who was ill and unable to leave his chamber. He entered and proceeded to his own palace, where Lü Pu came to congratulate him.

“When I sit on the throne, you shall command the whole armies of the Empire, horse and foot,” said he.

That night Cho slept in a tent in the midst of his escort. In the suburbs that evening some children at play were singing a little ditty and the words drifted in on the wind.

“The grass in the meadow looks fresh now and green, Yet wait but ten days, not a blade will be seen.” [3]

The song sounded ominous but Li Su was again prepared with a happy interpretation. “It only means that the Lius are about to disappear and the Tungs to be exalted.”

Next morning at the first streak of dawn Tung Cho prepared for his appearance at court. On the way he saw a Taoist, dressed in a black robe and wearing a white turban, who carried in his hand a tall staff with a long strip of white cloth attached. At each end of the cloth was drawn a mouth.

“What is the meaning of this?” said Tung Cho.

“He is a madman,” said Li Su, and he told the guards to drive the fellow away.

Tung Cho went in and found all the officials in court dress lining the road. Li Su walked beside his carriage, a sword in his hand. When he reached the side room on the north he found soldiers drawn up outside and only the pushers of the palace carriage, a score or so, were allowed to proceed further. When he arrived near the Reception Hall he saw that Wang Yün and all the other officials standing at the door were armed.

“Why are they all armed?” said he to Li Su. Li Su was silent. The pushers urged the carriage forward swiftly to the entrance.

Suddenly Wang Yün shouted, “The rebel is here! where are the executioners?”

At this call sprang from both sides men armed with halberds and spears who attacked Tung Cho. He had not put on the breastplate he usually wore and a spear pierced his breast. He sank down in the carriage calling loudly for his son, “Where is Fêng-hsien?”

“Here, and with a decree to deal with a rebel,” said Lü Pu savagely, as he appeared in front of his “father.”

Thereupon he thrust his halberd through his victim’s throat. Then Li Su hacked off the head and held it up. Lü Pu, his left hand holding his halberd, thrust his right hand into his bosom whence he drew the decree, crying, “The decree was to slay the rebel Tung Cho; no other.”

The whole assembly shouted, “Live for ever! O Emperor.”

A sympathetic poet has written a few lines in pity:—

Await the time, O noble, and be king, Or failing, reap the solace riches bring; Heaven n’er is partial, but severely just, Meiwu stood strong yet now it lies in dust.

The lust of blood awakened, Lü Pu urged the slaughter of Li Ju, who had been the confidant of the murdered Minister and Li Su volunteered to go in search of him. But just then a shouting was heard at the gates and it was told them that a household slave had brought their intended victim in bonds. Wang Yün ordered his immediate execution in the market place.

Tung Cho’s head was exposed in a crowded thoroughfare. He was very fat and the guards made torches by sticking splints into the body. The passers-by pelted the poor head and spurned the body with their feet.

A large force under Lü Pu was sent to destroy Meiwu. His first captive was Cicada. Then they slew every member of the Tung family, sparing none, not even his aged mother. Some of his particular adherents, with the “Flying Bear” force, fled to Chingchou. In Meiwu were hidden many young ladies of good family. These were set free. The spoil was enormous; stores of wealth in all its forms had been collected there.

When they returned to report success Wang Yün rewarded and feasted the soldiers. Banquets were held in the halls to which all the officials were invited. They drank and congratulated each other. While the feasting was in progress it was announced that some one had come and was wailing over the corpse exposed in the market place.

“Tung Cho has been put to death,” said Wang Yün, angrily. “Every body is glad to be rid of him and yet one is found to lament over him. Who is this?”

So he gave orders to arrest the mourner and bring him in. Soon he was brought in and when they saw him all were startled. For he was no other than Tsʻai Yung the Shih-chung.

Wang Yün spoke to him angrily, “Tung Cho has been put to death as a rebel and all the land rejoices. You, a Han Minister, instead of rejoicing, weep for him. Why?”

Yung confessed his fault. “I am without talent, yet know I what is right. Am I the man to turn my back on my country and toward Tung Cho? Yet once I experienced his kindness and I could not help mourning for him. I know my fault is grave but I pray you to regard the reasons. If you will leave my head and only cut off my feet, you may use me to continue the History of Han, whereby I may have the good fortune to be allowed to expiate my fault.”

All were sorry for him, for he was a man of great talents and they begged that he might be spared. The Preceptor Ma secretly interceded for him, pointing out that he was famous as a scholar, that he could write glorious history, and that it was inadvisable to put to death a man renowned for rectitude. But in vain. The Great Councillor was now strong and obdurate.

“Ssŭ-ma Chʻien was spared and employed on the annals, with the result that many slanderous stories have been handed down to us. This is a trying period of great perplexity and we dare not let a specious fellow like this wield his pencil in criticism of those about the court of a youthful prince and abuse us as he will.”

Remonstrance and appeal being vain Ma retired. But he said to his colleagues, “Is Wang Yün then careless of the future? Worthy men are the mainstay of the State: laws are the canons of action. To destroy the mainstay and nullify the laws is to hasten destruction.”

As was just said Wang Yün was obdurate. The man whose offence was an expression of gratitude was thrown into prison and there strangled. The people of that day wept for him, for they refused to see any offence in what he had done and death was a harsh punishment.

Tung, the harsh dictator, Tyrannised the State, Fell and his sole mourner Shared his direful fate. Chuko in seclusion Was content to dream. Felt his worth and never Helped a traitor’s scheme.

Those of his adherents whom Tung Cho had left to guard his city fled when their master was slain and went into Shênsi. Thence they sent in a memorial entreating amnesty. But Wang Yün would not hear of it. Four of them were the chief instruments of Cho’s aggressions. Now though a general amnesty were proclaimed these men should be excluded from its benefit.

The messenger returned and told the four there was no hope of pardon and they could only flee.

Adviser Chia Hsü said, “If we throw away our arms and flee singly then we shall fall easy victims to any village beadle who may seize us. Rather let us cajole the Shênsi people to throw in their lot with us and make a sudden onslaught on the capital and so avenge our master. If we succeed, we control the court and the country. It will be time enough to run away if we fail.”

The plan was adopted and they spread abroad the story that Wang Yün intended to harry the district. Having thus thrown the people into a state of terror they went a step farther and said, “There is no advantage in dying for nothing. Revolt and join us.” So they cajoled the people into joining them and gathered a host equal to ten legions. This horde was divided into four parts and they all set out to raid the capital. On the way they fell in with a son-in-law of their late chief, with a number of soldiers. He had set out to avenge his father-in-law and he became the van-leader of the horde.

As they advanced the news came to Wang Yün and he consulted Lü Pu.

“They are a lot of rats,” said he. “Never mind how many there are of them. Be not in the least anxious.”

So Lü Pu and Li Su went to oppose them. The latter was in advance and met Niu Fu. They fought; Niu Fu was outmatched and retired. But unexpectedly Niu Fu returned in a night attack, found Li Su quite unprepared and drove his force some thirty li, slaying many.

Li went to tell his chief who raged at him saying, “You have sullied my reputation as a warrior and destroyed my prestige.”

And he put Li Su to death, exposing his head at the camp gate.

Next day Lü Pu advanced his own force and engaged Niu Fu. Could the result be the least dubious? Niu Fu was driven off. That night he called in his friend Hu Chʻih-êrh to advise him.

“Lü Pu is too doughty a fighter for us to hope to overcome him. Our case is hopeless. Our best course is to desert these four men, secrete our valuables and leave the army with just a few of our followers.”

The plan of Niu Fu was adopted and the two traitors that very night packed up and made their way out of camp. They were only half a dozen. They came to a river and, while crossing, Hu Chʻih-êrh, tempted by the lust of wealth, slew his companion. Then he went to offer the head to Lü Pu. Lü Pu enquired into the matter and when a follower told him the truth, he put the double traitor to death.

Then he advanced against the rebels and fell in with Li Tsʻui’s force. Without giving them time to form in battle array, he attacked. Horses curvetting and spears set, the men dashed in irresistibly and Li Tsʻui, making no stand, fell back a long way. He took up a position under a hill and thence sent to call his fellows to council.

Li Tsʻui said, “Lü Pu though brave in battle is no strategist and so not really formidable. I will lead my men to hold the mouth of the gorge and every day I will incite him to attack and, when he comes toward me, Commander Kuo can smite his rear, after the manner of Pʻêng Yüeh when he fought against Chʻu. While thus I am alternating attack and retreat you other two will march off in different directions toward Chʻangan. Such an attack at two points must end in his defeat.”

They set themselves to carry out this scheme. As soon as Lü Pu reached the hills a force came out to attack him. Pu made an angry dash toward the enemy, who retired up the hill, whence they shot arrows and hurled stones like rain. Lü Pu’s men halted. At this moment the report came that the rear was being attacked and there appeared Kuo Ssŭ. At once Lü Pu wheeled toward the new enemy, but immediately the rolling drums gave the signal to retire and Lü Pu could not come to blows with them. As he called in his men the gongs clanged on the other side and his former opponent came as if to smite him. But before he could join battle his rear was again threatened by Kuo, who in his turn drew off without striking a blow.

Thus Lü Pu was baited till his bosom was near bursting with rage. The same tactics continued for several days. He could neither strike his enemies nor escape them; his men had no rest.

In the midst of these distracting manœuvres a messenger rode up in hot haste to say that the capital was in imminent danger from a double attack. He at once ordered a march to save the capital, which became a rout when both his opponents came in pursuit. His loss was heavy.

He soon reached Chʻangan and found the rebels there in enormous numbers and the city quite surrounded. Lü Pu’s attack had but little effect and as his temper became more savage under defeat many of his men went over to the rebels.

He fell into deep melancholy. Then a remnant of Tung Cho’s adherents still in the city, led by Li Mêng and Wang Fang, began to lend aid to the attackers and by and by they secretly opened the city gate and the besiegers poured in. Lü Pu exerted himself to the utmost but could not stem the tide. At the head of a few horse he dashed over to the Chingso Gate, or “Gate of the Black Lock,” and called out to Wang Yün, who was on the other side, that the case was desperate and bade him mount and ride to a place of safety.

Wang Yün replied, “If I am gifted with the holy spirit of the State I shall succeed in restoring the tranquillity which I desire, but if I have it not, then I offer my body a sacrifice. I will not quail before dangers. Thank the noble supporters east of the pass for their efforts and bid them remember their country.”

Lü Pu urged him again and again, but he would not leave. Soon flames started up all over the city and Lü Pu had to leave, abandoning his family to their fate. He fled and joined Yüan Shu.

Li Tsʻui and his fellow leaders gave full licence to their ruffians, who robbed and murdered their fill. Many high officers perished. In time they penetrated to the inner palace and the eunuchs begged the Emperor to proceed to the Hsüanpʻing Mên (the Gate of Pervading Peace) to try to quell the rioting. At sight of the yellow umbrella Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ checked their men and they all shouted “Long life O Emperor!” (Wan-sui!). The Emperor stood by the tower and addressed them, “Nobles, what means it that you enter the capital in this unruly manner and without my summons?”

The two leaders looked up and said, “Tung Cho, Your Majesty’s Minister, has been slain by Wang Yün and we are here to avenge him. We are no rebels, Sire. Let us only have Wang Yün and we draw off our men.”

Wang Yün was actually among the courtiers and at the Emperor’s side. Hearing this demand he said, “The plan was made for the benefit of the Throne, but as this evil has grown therefrom Your Majesty will not grudge losing me. I have brought about evil and I will go down to these rebels.”

The Emperor was torn with sorrow and wavered. But the faithful Minister leaped from the wall crying, “Wang Yün is here.”

The two leaders drew their swords, crying, “For what crime was our master slain?

“His crimes filled the heavens and covered the earth; no tongue can tell them. The day he died was a day of rejoicing in the whole city as you well know,” said Wang.

“And if he was guilty of some crime what had we done not to be forgiven?”

“Seditious rebels, why bandy words? I am ready to die.”

And he was slain at the foot of the tower.

Moved by the people’s sufferings, Vexed at his prince’s grief, Wang Yün compassed the traitor’s death, That they might find relief. Every one knows him a hero, Leal to the State alway: Living he guarded the princely towers, His soul keeps guard to-day.

Having done the loyal Minister to death at his master’s feet they proceeded to exterminate also his whole family. Every one mourned.

Then said the ruffians to each other, “Having gone so far what could be better than to make away with the Emperor and complete our scheme?”

The traitor condoned his crime, Rebellion ought to cease; But his licentious followers Disturb the Empire’s peace.

The fate of the Emperor will be disclosed in the next chapter.

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Chapter X

MA TʻENG SERVES HIS COUNTRY WELL: TSʻAO TSʻAO AVENGES HIS FATHER’S MURDER.

In the last chapter the two arch rebels proposed to murder the Emperor Hsien, but their followers Chang and Fan opposed this.

“No; the people will not approve of his death now. Restore him to power and get the leaguers inside the gates. Remove his supporters and then we can compass his death. And we shall be able to do what we wish.”

So they ceased the attack. The Emperor again spoke from the tower, saying, “Why do you still remain? You have slain Wang Yün now withdraw these soldiers.”

Then Li and Kuo replied, “Your servants desire rank us a reward for their good service to your dynasty.”

“And what rank, Sirs?”

All four wrote their wishes and handed them up to the Emperor who had no choice but to accede to the request and they were created “Generals” (Chiang-chün) and received ranks of nobility and thereupon they went away and camped at Ssŭnung. The inferior leaders also were gratified with ranks. And once more the capital was free of troops.

Tung Cho’s followers having so far succeeded did not forget their late leader. They sought his corpse for burial, but only a few fragments were discoverable. Then they graved an image of fragrant wood in his likeness, laid that out in proper form and instituted a noble’s sacrifices and prayers. The remains were dressed in the robes of a prince laid in a princely coffin for burial. They selected Meiwu for his tomb and having found an auspicious day conveyed the coffin thither.

But a terrific thunder storm came on at the time of inhumation and the ground was flooded. The coffin was riven asunder and the poor remains thrown out. A second time they buried the coffin, but a similar thing happened in the night. And yet a third time in another place but the earth rejected the remains. Meanwhile the thunder-fire had entirely consumed them. So it may be said justly that Heaven was exceeding angry with Tung Cho.

So now Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ wielded the real power of the sceptre and they were hard upon the people. They also removed the attendants from the palace and replaced them by their own creatures, who maintained a most perfect watch over every movement of the Emperor so that he was greatly hampered and embarrassed. All appointments were made by the late rebels. For the sake of popularity they especially summoned Chu Chien to court, made him a High Chamberlain and associated him with the government.

One day came a report that Ma Tʻêng, the Prefect of Hsiliang, and Han Sui, with ten legions, were rapidly approaching the capital with the intention of attacking the rebels.

Now these men from the west had laid careful plans. They had sent trusty friends to the capital to find out who would support them. They had conspired with three officials to be their inside allies and plot against the rebels. These three obtained from the throne two secret edicts conferring the ranks of Commander, “Conqueror of the West,” on Ma Tʻêng and Commander, “Warden of the West,” on Han Sui. With these powers the two officials joined forces and began their march.

The four leaders of the party in power held a consultation as to how to meet the attack. The adviser, Chia Hsü, said, “Since the attackers are coming from a distance our plan is to fortify and wait till shortage of food shall work for us. In a hundred days their supplies will be consumed and they must retire. We can pursue and we shall capture them.”

Li Mêng and Wang Fang rose and said, “This plan is bad. Give us a legion and we will put an end to both of them and offer their heads before your ensign.”

“To fight forthwith means defeat,” said the adviser.

The other two cried with one voice, “If we fail we are willing to lose our heads, but if we win then your head is forfeit.”

Chia Hsü then said, “Two hundred li west of the capital stand the Chouchih Hills. The passes are narrow and difficult. Send Generals Chang and Fan to occupy this point of vantage and fortify themselves so that they may support Li and Wang.”

Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ accepted this advice. They told off a legion and a half of horse and foot and Li and Wang left. They made a camp two hundred and eighty li from Chʻangan.

The force from the west arrived and the two officers led out their men to the attack. They found their opponents in battle array. The two leaders, Ma Tʻêng and Han Sui, rode to the front side by side. Pointing to the rebel leaders they abused them, calling them traitors and asking who would capture them.

Hardly were the words spoken when there came out a youth with a clear, white complexion, eyes like shooting stars, lithe of body and strong of limb. He was armed with a long spear and bestrode an excellent steed. This young leader was Ma Chʻao, son of Ma Tʻêng, then seventeen years of age.

Though young he was valiant and skilful. Wang Fang, despising him on account of his youth, galloped forth to fight him. Before they had exchanged many passes Wang Fang was disabled and fell to a thrust of the young man’s spear. The victor turned to retire into the formation, but Li Mêng rode after him to avenge his fallen colleague. Ma Chʻao did not see him, but his father called out “You are followed!” Hardly had he spoken when he saw that the pursuer was a prisoner seated on his son’s steed.

Now Ma Chʻao had known he was followed, but pretended not to see, waiting till his enemy should have come close and lifted his spear to strike. Then he suddenly wheeled about. The spear thrust met only empty air, and as the horses passed Ma Chʻao’s powerful arm shot out and pulled Wang Fang from the saddle. Thus the soldiers were left leaderless and fled in all directions. The army dashed in pursuit and a complete victory was scored. They pressed into the pass and made a camp. They decapitated Li Mêng and exposed his head.

When Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ heard that both the boastful captains had fallen under the hand of one young man they knew that Chia Hsü had given good advice and was gifted with clear prescience. So they valued his plans the more highly and decided to act on the defensive. They refused all challenges to combat.

Surely enough after a couple of months the supplies of the Hsiliang men were all exhausted and the leaders began to consider retreat.

Just at this juncture a household servant of Ma Yü’s family betrayed his master and told of the conspiracy of the three men to assist the attackers. The two chief rebels in revenge seized the three conspirators, with every member of their households, and beheaded them in the market place. The heads of the three were exposed at the gate.

Being short of food and hearing of the destruction of their three adherents in the city, the only course for Ma and Han was to retreat. At once Chang Chi went in pursuit of Ma Tʻêng and Fan Chʻou followed Han Sui. The retreating army under Ma was beaten and only by Ma Chʻao’s desperate efforts were the pursuers driven off.

Fan Chʻou pursued the other army and when he had come close Han Sui rode boldly up and addressed him, saying “You and I, Sir, are fellow villagers. Why then behave so unfriendly?”

Chʻou replied, “I must obey the commands of my chief.”

“I am here for the service of the State; why do you press me so hard?” said Han.

At this Fan Chʻou turned his horse, called in his men and left him in peace. Unwittingly a nephew of Li Tsʻui had been a witness of this scene and when he saw the enemy allowed to go free he returned and told his uncle. Angry that his enemy had escaped, Li would have wreaked vengeance on his lieutenant, but his adviser again came in saying it was dangerous to provoke another war. He proposed inviting the defaulting officer to a banquet and, while the feast was in progress, executing him for dereliction of duty. This seemed good to Li so the banquet was prepared. The two officers accepted their invitations and went cheerfully. Toward the latter part of the entertainment a sudden change came over their host and he suddenly asked Fan Chʻou, “Why have you been intriguing with Han Sui? You are turning traitor, eh?”

The unhappy guest was taken aback and before he could frame his words to reply he saw the assassins rush out with swords and axes. In a moment all was over and his head lay beneath the table.

Scared beyond measure his fellow-guest grovelled on the floor. “He was a traitor,” said the host, raising him by the arm, “and he has his deserts; you are my friend and need not fear.”

He gave Chang Chi command of the murdered man’s troop with which he returned to Hungnung. No one of the nobles among the leaguers dared attempt an attack on the party newly risen from Tung Cho’s disaffection, while on the other hand Chia Hsü never ceased to urge his masters to exert themselves for the welfare of the people and thus to tempt wise men to join them. And by these means the government began to prosper.

However, a new trouble arose in the shape of a resurgence of Yellow Turbans. They came, without apparent head or leader, in large numbers and plundered any place they reached. Chu Chien said he knew of one who could destroy this sedition, and when asked who was the man he proposed he said, “You want to destroy this horde of rebels; you will fail unless you get the services of Tsʻao Mêng-tê.”

“And where is he?” asked Li Tsʻui.

“He is Prefect of Tung Chün. He has a large army and you have only to order him to act; the rising will be broken.”

A messenger went post haste with a command for Tsʻao Tsʻao and Pao Hsin to act together in quelling the rebellion. As soon as Tsʻao Tsʻao received the court command he arranged with his colleague first to attack the rebels at Shouyang. Pao Hsin made a dash right into their midst, inflicting damage wherever he could, and Tsʻao Tsʻao pursued them as they fled. So many surrendered. Then he put his quondam enemies in the van and when his army reached any place many more surrendered and joined him. After three months of these tactics they had won over many thousands, both of soldiers and ordinary folk.

Of these new adherents the strongest and boldest were made soldiers and the others were sent home to their fields. In consequence of these successes Tsʻao Tsʻao’s prestige and fame became very great and increased daily. He reported his success to the capital and was rewarded with the title of Commander, “Warden of the East.”

At his headquarters in Yenchow Tsʻao Tsʻao welcomed wise counsellors and bold warriors, and many gathered around him. Two clever men, uncle and nephew, came at the same time, both Yingchow men, named Hsün Yü and Hsün Yu. The uncle had once been in the service of Yüan Shao. Tsʻao Tsʻao rejoiced when he had won the elder Hsün to his side saying he was his teacher. The nephew was famed for his ability and had been in the court service but had abandoned that career and retired to his village.

The uncle said to Tsʻao Tsʻao, “There is a certain wise man of Yenchow somewhere, but I do not know in whose service he is.”

“Who is he?”

“Chʻêng Yü; he belongs to the eastern district.”

“Yes; I have heard of him,” said Tsʻao. So a messenger was sent to his native place to enquire. He was away in the hills engaged in study, but he came at Tsʻao Tsʻao’s invitation.

“I shall prove unworthy of your recommendation,” said he to his friend Hsün, “for I am rough and ignorant. But have you forgotten a fellow villager of yours, Kuo Chia? He is really able. Why not spread the net to catch him?”

“I had nearly forgotten,” said Hsün Yü suddenly. So he told his master of this man, who was at once invited. Kuo, discussing the world at large with his master, spoke in high terms of one Liu Yeh; and when he had arrived he was the means of inviting two more, Man Chʻung and Lü Chʻien, who were already known to Tsʻao Tsʻao by reputation. These two brought to their new master’s notice the name of Mao Chieh, who also came and was given office. Then a famous leader, with his troop of some hundreds, arrived to offer service. This was Yü Chin of Tʻaishan, an expert horseman and archer, and skilled beyond his fellows in every form of military exercise. He was made an army inspector.

Then another day Hsiahou Tun brought a really fine, handsome fellow to present to Tsʻao Tsʻao.

“Who is he?” asked Tsʻao.

“He is from Chʻên-liu and is named Tien Wei. He is the boldest of the bold, the strongest of the strong. He was one of Chang Mo’s men, but quarrelled with his tent companions and killed a lot of them with his fists. Then he fled to the mountains where I found him. I was out shooting and saw him follow a tiger across a stream. I persuaded him to join my troop and I recommend him.”

“I see he is no ordinary man,” said Tsʻao. “He is handsome and straight and looks very powerful and bold.”

“He is. He killed a man once to avenge a friend and carried his head through the whole market place. Hundreds saw him, but dared not come near. The weapon he uses now is a two-branched spear over a hundred pounds in weight, and he vaults into the saddle with this under his arm.”

Tsʻao Tsʻao bade the man give proof of his skill so he galloped to and fro carrying the spear. Then he saw away among the tents a huge banner swaying dangerously with the force of the wind and on the point of falling. A crowd of soldiers were vainly struggling to keep it steady. Down he leaped, shouted to the men to clear out and held the staff quite steady with one hand, keeping it perfectly upright in spite of the strong wind.

“This is old Wu Lai again,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao. He gave the strong man a post in the army and besides made him presents of an embroidered robe and a swift steed with a handsome saddle.

Thus Tsʻao Tsʻao encouraged able men to assist him and he had advisers on the civil side and valiant captains in the army. He became famous through all Shantung.

Tsʻao’s father, Sung, was living at Langya, whither he had gone as a place free from the turmoil of the partizan struggles and, as a dutiful son, Tsʻao sent the Prefect of Tʻaishan to escort his father to Yenchow. The old man read the letter with joy and the family prepared to move. They were some forty in all, with a train of a hundred servants and many carts.

Their road led through Hsüchou where the Prefect, Tʻao Chʻien, was a sincere and upright man who had long wished to get on good terms with Tsʻao Tsʻao but, hitherto, had found no means of effecting a bond of union. Hearing that the family of the great man was passing through his district he went to welcome them, treated them with great cordiality, feasting and entertaining them for two days, and when they left he escorted them to his boundary. Further he sent with them one Chang Kʻai with a special escort.

The whole party reached Huafei. It was the end of summer, just turning into autumn, and at this place they were stopped by a tremendous storm of rain. The only shelter was an old temple and thither they went. The family occupied the main rooms and the escort the two side wings. The men of the escort were drenched, angry and discontented. The leader called some of his petty officers to a secret spot and said, “We are old Yellow Turbans and only submitted to Tʻao because there was no help for it. We have never got much out of it. Now here is the Tsʻao family with no end of gear and we can be rich very easily. We will make a sudden onslaught to-night at the third watch and slay the whole lot. Then we shall have plenty of treasure and we will get away to the mountains.”

They all agreed. The storm continued into the night and as Tsʻao Sung sat waiting anxiously for signs of clearing he suddenly heard a hubbub at the west end of the temple. His brother Tsʻao Tê, drawing his sword, went out to see what it was about and was at once cut down. Tsʻao Sung seized one of the concubines by the hand, rushed with her through the passage toward the back of the temple so that they might escape. But the lady was stout and could not get through the narrow doors so the two hid in one of the small outhouses at the side. However, they were seen and slain.

The unhappy Prefect fled for his life to Yüan Shao. The murderers fled into Huainan with their plunder after having set fire to the old temple.

Tsʻao Tsʻao, whom the ages praise, Slew the Lüs in former days; Nemesis ne’er turns aside, Murdered too his family died.

Some of the escort escaped and took the evil tidings to Tsʻao Tsʻao. When he heard it he fell to the earth with a great cry. They raised him. With set teeth he muttered, “His men have slain my father: no longer can the same sky cover us. I will sweep Hsüchou off the face of the earth. Only thus can I satisfy my vengeance.”

Leaving one small army to guard the east he set forth with all the remainder to destroy Hsüchou and avenge his father.

Now the Prefect of Kiukiang was a close friend of Tʻao Chʻien. Hearing Hsüchou was threatened he set out with half a legion to his friend’s aid. Tsʻao sent Hsiahou Tun to cut him off while still on the march. At this time Chʻên Kung was in office in the east and he was also on friendly terms with Tʻao. Hearing of Tsʻao’s design to destroy the whole population he came in haste to see his former companion. Tsʻao knowing his errand put him off at first and would not see him. But he could not forget the kindness he had formerly received and presently the visitor was called to his tent.

Chʻên Kung said, “They say you go to avenge your father’s death on Hsüchou, to destroy its people. I have come to say a word. The Prefect is humane and a good man. He is not looking out for his own advantage, careless of the means and of others. Your worthy father met his unhappy death at the hands of Chang Kʻai. Tʻao Chʻien is guiltless. Still more innocent are the people and to slay them would be an evil. I pray you to think over it.”

Tsʻao retorted angrily, “You once abandoned me and now you have the impudence to come to see me! Tʻao Chien slew my whole family and I will tear his heart out in revenge. I swear it. You may speak for your friend and say what you will. I shall be as if I heard not.”

Intercession had failed. He sighed and took his leave. “Alas! I cannot go to Tʻao and look upon his face.” So he rode off to the Chʻên-liu district.

Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army of revenge laid waste whatever place it passed through, slaying the people and desecrating their cemeteries.

When Tʻao Chʻien heard the terrible tidings he looked up to heaven saying, “I must be guilty of some fault before Heaven to have brought this evil upon my people.” He called together his officials to consult. One of them, Tsʻao Pao, said, “Now the enemy is upon us, we cannot sit and await death with folded hands. I for one will help you to make me a fight.”

The army went out. From a distance the enemy spread abroad like hoar frost and rushed far and wide like snow. In their midst was a large white flag and oh both sides was written “Vengeance.”

When he had ranged his men Tsʻao Tsʻao rode out dressed in mourning white and abused Tʻao Chʻien. But Tʻao advanced and from beneath his ensign bowed low and said, “I wished to make friends with you, Illustrious Sir, and so I sent Chang Kʻai to escort your family. I knew not that his rebel heart was still unchanged. The fault does not lie at my door as you must see.”

“You old fool, you killed my father and now you dare to mumble this nonsense,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao. And he asked who would go out and seize him.

Hsiahou Tun undertook this service and rode out. The Prefect fled to the inner portion of his array and as Hsiahou Tun came on Tsʻao Pao went to meet him. But just as the two horses met a hurricane burst over the spot and the flying dust and pebbles threw both sides into the utmost confusion. Both drew off.

The Prefect retired into the city and called his officers to council. “The force against us is too strong,” said he. “I will give myself up as a prisoner and let him wreak his vengeance on me. I may save the people.”

But a voice was heard saying, “You have long ruled here and the people love you. Strong as the enemy are they are not necessarily able to break down our walls, especially when defended by you and your people. I have a scheme to suggest that I think will make Tsʻao Tsʻao die in a place where he will not find burial.”

These bold words startled the assembly and they eagerly asked what the scheme was.

Making overtures for friendship he encountered deadly hate, But, where danger seemed most threatening, he discovered safety’s gate.

The next chapter will disclose who the speaker was.

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Chapter XI

LIU, THE EMPEROR’S UNCLE, RESCUES KʻUNG JUNG: LU, MARQUIS OF WEN, DEFEATS TSʻAO TSʻAO.

It was one Mi Chu who said he knew how to defeat Tsʻao Tsʻao utterly. He came of a wealthy family of merchants trading in Loyang. One day travelling homeward from that city in a carriage he met an exquisitely beautiful lady trudging along the road, who asked him to let her ride. He stopped and yielded his place to her. She invited him to share the seat with her. He mounted, but sat rigidly upright never even glancing in her direction. They travelled thus for some miles when she thanked him and alighted. Just as she left she said, “I am the embodied spirit of the Southern Heat. I am on my way to execute a decree of the Supreme to burn your dwelling, but your extreme courtesy has so deeply touched me that I now warn you. Hasten homeward, remove your valuables for I must arrive to-night.”

Thereupon she disappeared. Mi Chu hastily finished his journey and as soon as he arrived moved everything out of his house. Sure enough that night a fire started in the kitchen and involved the whole house. After this he devoted his wealth to relieving the poor and comforting the afflicted. Tʻao Chʻien gave him the office he then held.

The plan he proposed was this. “I will go to Pohai and beg Kʻung Jung to help; another should go to Chʻingchow on a similar mission, and if the armies of these two places march on our enemy he will certainly retire.”

The Prefect accepted the plan and wrote letters. He asked for a volunteer to go to Chʻingchow and a certain Chʻên Têng offered himself and, after he had left, Mi Chu was formally entrusted with the mission to the north. Meanwhile they would hold the city as they could.

This Kʻung was a native of Chʻüfou in the old state of Lü, one of the twentieth generation in descent from the great Teacher Confucius. He had been noted as a very intelligent lad, somewhat precocious. When ten years old he had gone to see Li Ying, the Governor, but the doorkeeper demurred to letting him in. But when he said, “I am Minister Li’s intimate friend,” he was admitted. Li asked him what relations had existed between their families that might justify the term intimate. The boy replied, “Of old my ancestor (Kʻung) questioned yours (Lao Tzŭ, whose name was Li Erh) concerning ceremonies. So our families have known each other for many generations.” His host was astonished at the boy’s ready wit.

Presently another visitor of high rank came in, to whom Li Ying told the story of his youthful guest. “He is a wonder, this boy,” said Li.

The visitor replied, “It does not follow that a clever boy grows up into a clever man.”

The lad took him up at once saying “By what you say, Sir, you were certainly one of the clever boys.”

They all laughed. “The boy is going to be a noble vessel,” said they.

Thus from boyhood he was famous. As a man he rose to be a Chung-lang Chiang, and was sent as Governor to Pohai, where he was renowned for hospitality. He used to quote the lines:—

“Let the rooms be full of friends, And the cups be full of wine.”

“That is what I like,” said he.

After six years at Pohai the people were devoted to him. The day that Mi Chu arrived he was, as usual, seated among his guests and the messenger was ushered in without delay. In reply to a question about the reason of the visit he presented his letter which said that Tsʻao Tsʻao was pressing on the city and the Prefect prayed for help.

Then said Kʻung Jung, “Your master and I are good friends and your presence here constrains me to go to his aid. However I have no quarrel with Tsʻao Mêng-tê either, so I will first write to him to try to make peace. If he refuses my offer, then I must set the army in motion.”

“Tsʻao Tsʻao will not listen to proposals of peace; he is too certain of his strength,” said the messenger.

Kʻung Jung wrote his letter and also gave orders to muster his men. Just at this moment happened another rising of the Yellow Turbans, and the ruffians began to rob and murder at Pohai. It was necessary to deal with them first and Kʻung led his army outside the city.

The rebel leader rode out to the front saying, “I know this district is fruitful and can well spare ten thousand ‘stone’ of grain. Give me that and we retire: refuse, and we will batter down the city walls and destroy every soul.”

The Prefect shouted back, “I am a servant of the great Hans, entrusted with the safety of their land. Think you I will feed rebels?”

The leader Kuan Hai whipped his steed, whirled his sword around his head and rode forward. Tsung Pao, one of Kʻung’s captains, set his spear and rode out to give him battle, but after a very few bouts was cut down. Soon the soldiers fell into confusion and rushed pell-mell into the city for protection. The rebels then laid seige to the city on all sides. Kʻung Jung was very down-hearted and Mi Chu, who now saw no hope for the success of his mission, was grieved beyond words.

The sight from the city wall was exceeding sad, for the rebels were there in enormous numbers. One day as the Prefect stood on the wall, he saw a man armed with a spear riding hard in among his enemies and scattering them before him like chaff before the wind. Before long he had reached the foot of the wall and called out, “Open the gate!” But the defenders would not open to an unknown man and in the delay a crowd of rebels gathered round the rider along the edge of the moat. Suddenly wheeling about, the warrior dashed in among them and bowled over half a score at which the others fell back. At this the Prefect ordered the wardens to open the gates and let the stranger enter. As soon as he was inside he dismounted, laid aside his spear, ascended the wall and made humble obeisance to Kʻung Jung.

He said his name was Tʻaishih Tz’ŭ and he came from Laihuang. His aged mother had sent him out of gratitude for the kindness shown her by Kʻung. “I only returned home yesterday from the north and then I heard that your city was in danger from a rebel attack. My mother said you had been very kind to her and told me I should try to help. So I set out all alone and here I am.”

This was cheering. The Prefect already knew Tʻaishih by reputation as a valiant fighting man although they two had never met. The son being far away from his home the Prefect had taken his mother, who dwelt a few miles from the city, under his especial protection and saw that she did not suffer from want. This had won the old lady’s heart and she had sent her son to show her gratitude.

Kʻung showed his appreciation by treating his guest with the greatest respect, making him presents of clothing and armour, saddles and horses.

Presently said Tʻaishih, “Give me a company and I will go out and drive off these fellows.”

“You are a bold warrior, but these are very numerous. It is a serious matter to go out among them,” said Kʻung.

“My mother sent me because of your goodness to her. How shall I be able to look her in the face if I do not raise the siege? I would prefer to conquer or perish.”

“I have heard Liu Yüan-tê is one of the finest warriors in the world and if we could get his help there would be no doubt of the result. But there is no one to send.”

“I will go as soon as I have received your letter.”

So Kʻung wrote letters and gave them to his new helper. Tʻaishih put on his armour, mounted his steed, attached his bow and quiver to his girdle, took his spear in his hand, tied his packed haversack firmly to his saddle bow and rode out at the city gate. He went quite alone.

Along the moat a large party of the besiegers were gathered and they came to intercept the solitary rider. But he dashed in among them and cut down several and so finally fought his way through.

The rebel leader, hearing that a rider had left the city, guessed what his errand would be and followed Tʻaishih with a party of horsemen. He spread them out so that the messenger rider was entirely surrounded. Then Tʻaishih laid aside his spear, took his bow, adjusted his arrows one by one and shot all round him. And as a rider fell from his steed with every twang of his bowstring, the pursuers dared not close in.

Thus he got clear away and rode in hot haste to Liu Yüan-tê. He reached Pʻingyüan and after greeting his host in proper form he told how Kʻung Pohai was surrounded and had sent him for help. Then he presented the letter which Liu Pei read.

“Who are you?” asked he.

“I am Tʻaishih Tz’ŭ, a stupid fellow from Tunghai. I am not related by ties of kin to Kʻung Jung, nor even by ties of neighbourhood, but I am by the bonds of sentiment and I share his sorrows and misfortunes. The rebel Kuan has invested his city and he is distressed with none to turn to and destruction is very near. You are known as humane and righteous and you are able to rescue him. Therefore at his command I have braved all dangers and fought my way through his enemies to pray you to save him.”

Liu Yüan-tê smiled, saying, “And does he know of my existence?”

So the three brothers told off three companies and set out to help raise the siege. When the rebel leader saw these new forces arriving he led out his army to fight them, thinking he could easily dispose of so small a force.

The brothers and Tʻaishih Tz’ŭ with them sat on their horses in the forefront of their array. Kuan Hai, the rebel leader, hastened forward. Tʻaishih held back to allow Kuan Yü to open the combat. He rode forth and the two steeds met. The soldiers set up a great shout, for how could there be any doubt of the result? After a few bouts Black Dragon rose and fell, and with the stroke fell the rebel leader.

This was the signal for the two other warriors to take a share and they advanced side by side. With their spears ready they dashed in and Yüan-tê urged forward his men. The besieged Prefect saw his doughty rescuers laying low the rebels as tigers among a flock of sheep. None could withstand them and he then sent out his own men to join in the battle so that the rebels were between two armies. The rebels’ force was completely broken and many men surrendered, while the remainder scattered in all directions.

The victors were welcomed into the city and as soon as possible a banquet was prepared in their honour. Mi Chu was presented to Liu Yüan-tê and he related the story of the murder of Tsʻao Sung by Chang Kʻai and Tsʻao’s vengeful attack on Hsüchou and his coming to beg for assistance.

Yüan-tê said, “Tʻao Kung-tsu is a kindly man of high character, and it is a pity that he should suffer this wrong for no fault of his own.”

“You are a scion of the imperial family,” said the Prefect, “and this Tsʻao Tsʻao is injuring the people, a strong man abusing his strength. Why not go with me to rescue the sufferers?”

“I dare not refuse, but my force is weak and I must act cautiously,” said Liu Pei.

“Though my desire to help arises from an old friendship, yet it is a righteous act as well. Is it that your heart is not inclined toward the right?” said Kʻung.

Liu Pei said, “This being so, you go first and give me time to see Kungsun Tsan from whom I may borrow more men and horses. I will come anon.”

“You surely will not break your promise?” said the Prefect.

“What manner of man think you that I am?” said Yüan-tê. “The wise one said, ‘Death is common to all: the man without truth cannot maintain himself.’ Whether I get the men or not, certainly I shall myself come.”

So the plan was agreed to. Mi Chu set out to return forthwith while Kʻung Jung prepared for his expedition.

Tʻaishih Tz’ŭ took his leave saying, “My mother bade me come to your aid and now happily you are safe. Letters have come from my fellow townsman, Liu Yu, Governor of Yangchou, calling me thither and I must go. I will see you again.”

Kʻung pressed rewards upon him but he would accept nothing and went away. When his mother saw him she was pleased at his success saying she rejoiced that he had been able to prove his gratitude, and after this he departed for Yangchou.

Here nothing will be said of the departure of the relieving force. But Yüan-tê went away to his friend Kungsun Tsan and laid before him his design to help Hsüchou.

“Tsʻao Tsʻao and you are not enemies; why do you spend yourself for the sake of another?” said Tsan.

“I have promised,” he replied, “and dare not break faith.”

“I will lend you two companies, horse and foot,” said Tsan.

“Also I wish to have the services of Chao Tzŭ-lung,” said Yüan-tê.

Tsan agreed to this also.

They marched away, their own men being in the front and Chao Tzŭ-lung, with the borrowed men, being in rear.

In due course Mi Chu returned saying that Kʻung Jung had also obtained the services of the three warrior brothers. The other messenger, Chʻên Yüan-lung, came back and reported that Tʻien Kʻai would also bring help. Then was the Prefect’s heart set at ease.

But both the leaders, though they had promised aid, greatly dreaded their antagonist and camped among the hills at a great distance, fearful of coming to close quarters. Tsʻao Tsʻao knew of their coming and divided his army into parts to meet them, so postponing the attack on the city itself. Presently Liu Pei came up and went to see Kʻung Jung, who said, “The enemy is very powerful and Tsʻao Tsʻao handles his army skilfully. We must be cautious. Let us make most careful observations before we strike a blow.”

“What I fear is famine in the city,” said Liu Pei. “They cannot hold out very long. I will put my men with yours under your command while I with Chang Fei make a dash through to see Tʻao Chʻien and consult with him.”

Kʻung Jung approved of this, so he and Tʻien Kʻai took up positions on the “ox horn formation,” with Kuan Yü and Chao Yün on either side to support them.

The day that Liu Pei and his company made their dash to get through Tsʻao’s army they got as far as the flank of his camp when there arose a great beating of drums, and horse and foot rolled out like billows on the ocean. The leader was Yü Chin. He checked his steed and called out, “You mad men from somewhere, where are you going?”

Chang Fei heard him but deigned no reply. He only rode straight to attack the speaker. After they had fought a few bouts Yüan-tê waved his double sword as signal for his men to come on and they drove Yü Chin before them. Chang Fei led the pursuit and in this way they reached the city wall.

From the city wall the besieged saw a huge banner embroidered in white with the name of Liu Pei and the Prefect bade them open the gate for the rescuers to enter. The leader was made very welcome, conducted to the residency and a banquet prepared in his honour. The men also were feasted.

Tʻao Chʻien was delighted with Liu Pei, admiring his noble appearance and clear speech. He bade Mi Chu offer him the seal and insignia of office. But the visitor shrank back startled.

“What does this mean?” said he.

Tʻao said, “There is trouble on every side and the kingly rule is no longer maintained. You, Sir, are a member of the family and eminently fitted to support them and their prerogatives. I am verging on senility and I wish to retire in your favour. I pray you not to decline and I will report my action to the Court.”

Liu Pei started up from his seat and bowed before his host saying, “Scion of the family I may be, but my merit is small and my virtue meagre. I doubt my fitness even for my present post and only a feeling of doing right sent me to your assistance. To hear such speech makes me doubt. Surely you think I came with greed in my heart. May God help me no more if I cherished such a thought.”

“It is a poor old man’s real sentiment,” said Tʻao Chʻien.

Time after time Tʻao Chʻien renewed his offer to retire, but how could Liu Pei accept it?

In the midst of this came Mi Chu to say the enemies had reached the wall and something must be done to drive them off. The matter of one officer retiring in favour of the other could await a more tranquil time.

Said Liu Pei, “I ought to write to Tsʻao Tsʻao to press him to raise the siege. If he refuse, we will attack forthwith.”

Orders were sent to the three camps to remain quiescent till the letters could reach Tsʻao Tsʻao.

It happened that Tsʻao Tsʻao was holding a council when a messenger with a war letter was announced. The letter was brought in and handed to him and, when he had opened and looked at it, he found it was from Liu Pei.

This is the letter, very nearly:—“Since meeting you outside the pass, fate has assigned us to different quarters of the world and I have not been able to pay my respects to you. Touching the death of your noble father, the Marquis, it was owing to the vicious nature of Chang Kʻai and due to no fault of Tʻao Kung-tsu. Now while the remnant of the Yellow Turbans is disturbing the provinces and Tung Cho’s partizans have the upper hand in the capital, I would that you, illustrious Sir, would regard the critical position of the Court rather than your personal grievances and so divert your forces from the attack on Hsüchou to the rescue of the State. Such would be for the happiness of that city and the whole world.”

Tsʻao Tsʻao gave vent to a torrent of abuse. “Who is this Liu Pei that he dares write and exhort me? Beside, he means to be satirical.”

He issued orders to put the bearer of the letter to death and to press on the siege. But Kuo Chia remonstrated, “Liu Pei has come from afar to help Tʻao and he is trying the effect of politeness before resorting to arms. I pray you, my master, reply with fair words that his heart may be lulled with a feeling of safety. Then attack with vigour and the city will fall.”

Tsʻao found this advice good, so he spared the messenger telling him to wait to carry back his reply. While this was going on a horseman came with news of misfortune. Lü Pu had made a raid on Yenchou.

When Li and Kuo, the two partizans of Tung Cho, succeeded in their attack on the capital Lü Pu had fled to Yüan Shu, who however looked askance at him for his instability, and refused to receive him. Then he had tried Yüan Shao, who had made use of him in an attack upon Chang Yen in Chʻangshan. But his success filled him with pride and his arrogant demeanour so annoyed the other commandants that Shao was on the point of putting him to death. To escape this he had gone away to Chang Yang, who accepted his services.

About this time Pʻang Hsü, who had been protecting Lü’s family since his disappearance, restored them to him, which deed angered Li and Kuo so that they put Pʻang to death and wrote to Lü Pu’s protector to serve him the same. To escape this Lü Pu once again had to flee and this time joined himself to Chang Mo.

He arrived just as Chang Mo’s brother was introducing Chʻên Kung. Kung said to Mo, “The disrupture of the Empire has begun and warriors are seizing what they can. It is strange that you, with all the advantages you enjoy, do not strike for independence. Tsʻao Tsʻao has gone on an expedition against the east leaving his own district defenceless. Lü Pu is one of the fighting men of the day. If you and he together attacked and got Yenchow you could then proceed to the dominion.”

Chang Mo was pleased and resolved to try. Soon Lü Pu was in possession of Yenchou and its neighbourhood, all but three small departments, which were desperately defended. Tsʻao Jên had fought many battles but was always defeated and the messenger with the evil tidings had come from him asking help.

Tsʻao Tsʻao was greatly disturbed by this and said, “If my own city be lost I have no home to return to. I must do something at once.”

“The best thing would be to become friends with Liu Pei at any cost and return to Yenchou,” said Kuo Chia.

Then he wrote to Liu Pei, gave the letter to the waiting messenger and broke camp. The news that the enemy had left was very gratifying to the Prefect, who then invited his various defenders into the city and prepared banquets and feasts in token of his gratitude.

At one of these, when the feasting was over, he proceeded with his scheme of retirement in favour of Liu Pei. Placing him in the seat of highest honour he bowed before him and then addressed the assembly.

“I am old and feeble and my two sons lack the ability to hold so important an office as this. The noble Liu is a descendant of the imperial house. He is of lofty virtue and great talent. Let him then take over the rule of this district and only too willingly I shall retire to have leisure to nurse my health.”

Liu Pei replied, “I came at the request of Kʻung Wên-chü because it was the right thing to do. Hsüchou is saved, but if I take it surely the world will say I am a wicked man.”

Mi Chu said, “You may not refuse. The House of Han is failing, their realm is crumbling and now is the time for doughty deeds and signal services. This is a fertile district, well populated, and you are the man to rule over it.”

“But I dare not accept.”

“The Prefect is a great sufferer,” said Chʻên Têng, “and cannot see to matters. You may not decline, Sir.”

Said Yüan-tê, “Yüan Shu belongs to a family of rulers and the highest offices of state were held four times in three generations. The whole empire respects him, why not invite him to this task?”

“Because he is a rotting bone in a dark tomb; not worth talking about. This opportunity is a gift from Heaven and you will never cease to regret its loss,” said Kʻung.

So spake Kʻung Jung, but still Liu Pei obstinately refused. Tʻao Chʻien besought him with tears. “I shall die if you leave me and there will be none to close my eyes.”

“Brother, you should accept the offer thus made,” said Kuan Yü.

“Why so much fuss?” said Chang Fei. “We have not taken the place; it is he who wishes to give it you.”

“You all persuade me to do what is wrong,” said Liu Pei.

Thrice did Tʻao entreat Liu Pei and thrice was he refused. Then he said, “As he is set in his determination perhaps he will consent to encamp at Hsiaopʻei. It is only a little town, but thence he can keep watch and ward over this city.”

They all with one voice prayed Liu Pei to consent so he gave in. The feast of victory being now ended the time came to say farewell. When Chao Yün took his leave Liu Pei held his hands alternately while dashing away the falling tears. Kʻung Jung and his leader went home to their own place.

When Liu Pei and his brothers took up their abode in Hsiaopʻei, they first repaired the defences and then they put out proclamations in order to calm the inhabitants.

In the meantime Tsʻao Tsʻao had marched toward his own district. His cousin, Tsʻao Jên, met him and told him Lü Pu was very strong and he had Chʻên Kung as adviser. Yenchou was as good as lost, with the exception of three small districts which had been desperately defended.

Tsʻao Tsʻao said, “I own that Lü Pu is a bold fighter but nothing more; he has no craft. So we need not fear him seriously.”

Then he gave orders to make a strong camp till they could think out some victorious plan. Lü Pu, knowing of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s return, called two of his subordinate captains, Hsüeh Lan and Li Fêng, to him and assigned to them the task of holding Yenchou, saying “I have long waited for opportunity to employ your skill: now I give you a legion and you are to hold the city while I go forth to attack Tsʻao Tsʻao.”

They made no objection. But Chʻên Kung, the strategist, came in hastily saying, “You are going away; whither?”

“I am going to camp my men at Puyang, that vantage point.”

“You are making a mistake,” said Chʻên Kung. “The two you have chosen to defend this are unequal to the task. For this expedition remember that about one hundred and eighty li due south, on the road to Tʻaishan, is a very advantageous position where you should place your best men in ambush. Tsʻao Tsʻao will hasten homeward by double marches when he hears what has happened and if you strike when half his men have gone past this point you may seize him.”

Said Lü Pu, “I am going to occupy Puyang and see what develops. How can you guess?”

So he left the two captains in command at Yenchou and went away.

Now when Tsʻao Tsʻao approached the dangerous part of the road near Tʻaishan, Kuo Chia warned him to take care as there was doubtless an ambush. But his master laughed, “We know all his dispositions. Do you think he has laid an ambush? I shall tell Tsʻao Jên to besiege Yenchou and I shall go to Puyang.”

When Chʻên Kung heard of the enemy’s approach he spoke, saying “The enemy will be fatigued with long marches so attack quickly before they have time to recover.”

Lü Pu replied, “I, a single horseman, am afraid of none. I go and come as I will. Think you I fear this Tsʻao Tsʻao? Let him settle his camp; I will take him after that.”

Now Tsʻao Tsʻao neared Puyang and he made a camp. And soon after he led out his commanders and they arrayed their men in open and desert country. Tsʻao Tsʻao took up his station on horseback between the two standards, watching while his opponents arrived and formed up in a circular area. Lü Pu was in front, followed by eight of his captains, all strong men. Two were called Chang Liao and Tsang Pa; and there were six others. They had five legions.

The drums began their thunderous roll and Tsʻao, pointing to his opponent, said, “You and I had no quarrel, why then did you invade my land?”

“The Empire of Han is the possession of all; what is your special claim?” said Lü.

So saying he ordered Tsang Pa to ride forth and challenge. From Tsʻao’s side the challenge was accepted by Yo Chin. The two steeds approached each other, two spears were lifted both together and they exchanged near two score blows with no advantage to either. Then Hsiahou Tun rode out to help his colleague and, in reply, out went Chang Liao from Lü Pu’s side. And they four fought.

Then fierce anger seized upon Lü Pu. Setting his spear he urged his steed forward to where the fight was waging. Seeing him approach Hsiahou and Yo both fled, but Lü Pu pressed on after them and Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army lost the day. Retiring a long way they made a new camp. Lü Pu called in and mustered his men.

The day having gone against him Tsʻao Tsʻao called a council and Yü Chin said, “From the hill tops to-day I saw a camp of our enemies on the west of Puyang. They were but few men therein, and to-night after to-day’s victory, it will not be defended. Let us attack and if we can take the camp we shall strike fear into the heart of Lü Pu. This is our best plan.”

Tsʻao thought so too. He and six of his lieutenants and two legions left that night by a secret road for the camp.

In Lü Pu’s camp was rejoicing for that day’s victory when Chʻên Kung reminded him of the west camp and its importance, and said that it might be attacked, Lü Pu replied that the enemy would not dare approach after that day’s defeat.

“Tsʻao Tsʻao is a very able commander,” replied Kung. “You must keep a good lookout for him lest he attack our weak spot.”

So arrangements were made for defence. At dusk Tsʻao Tsʻao reached the camp and began an immediate attack on all four sides. The defenders could not hold him off. They ran in all directions and the camp was captured. Near the fourth watch, when the party told off to help defend the camp reached it, Tsʻao Tsʻao sallied forth to meet them and met Kao Shun. Another battle then began and waged till dawn. About that time a rolling of drums was heard in the west and they told Tsʻao that Lü Pu himself was at hand. Thereupon Tsʻao Tsʻao abandoned the attack and fled.

They pursued him, Lü Pu taking the lead. Two of Tsʻao’s lieutenants attacked the pursuers but could not check them. Tsʻao went away north. But from behind some hills came out more of Lü Pu’s army and as they could not be beaten off Tsʻao sought safety in the west. Here again his retreat was barred.

The fight became desperate. Tsʻao Tsʻao dashed at the enemy’s array. The din was terrible. Arrows fell like pelting rain upon them and they could make no headway. He was desperate and cried out in fear, “Who can save me?”

Then from the crush dashed out Tien Wei with his double lance, crying “Fear not, my master.” He leapt from his steed, leaned his double lance against a wall and laid hold of a handful of darts. Turning to his followers he said, “When the ruffians are at ten paces, call out to me.”

Then he set off with mighty strides, plunging forward careless of the flying arrows. Lü Pu’s horsemen followed and when they got near the followers shouted, “Ten paces!”

“Five, then call!” shouted back Tien Wei, and went on.

Presently, “Five paces!”

Then Tien Wei spun round and flung the darts. With every fling a man fell from the saddle and never a dart missed.

Having thus slain half a score the remainder fled and Tien quickly remounted his steed, set his twin lance and rushed again into the fight with a vigour that none could withstand. One by one his opponents yielded and he was able to lead Tsʻao Tsʻao safely out of the press of battle. Tsʻao and his captains went to their camp.

But as evening fell the noise of pursuit fell on their ears and soon appeared Lü Pu himself. “Tsʻao, you rebel, do not flee!” shouted he as he approached with his halberd ready for a thrust.

All stopped and looked in each others’ faces: the men were weary, their steeds spent. Fear smote them and they looked around for some place of refuge.

You may lead your lord safely out of the press, But what if the enemy follow?

We cannot say here what Tsʻao Tsʻao’s fate was, but the next chapter will relate.

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Chapter XII

THE PREFECT TʻAO THRICE OFFERS HIS CHARGE: TSʻAO TSʻAO FIGHTS A GREAT BATTLE.

The last chapter closed with Tsʻao Tsʻao in great danger. However, help came. Hsiahou Tun with a small body of soldiers found his chief, checked the pursuit, and fought with Lü Pu till dusk. Rain fell in torrents swamping everything and as the daylight waned they drew off and Tsʻao Tsʻao reached camp. He rewarded Tien Wei richly and advanced him in rank.

When Lü Pu reached his camp he called in his adviser Chʻên Kung. The latter proposed a new stratagem. He said, “In Puyang there is a rich family, Tʻien by name, who number thousands, enough to populate a whole district in themselves. Make one of these people go to Tsʻao Tsʻao’s camp with a pretended secret letter about Lü Pu’s ferocity, and the hatred of the people, and their desire to be rid of him. End by saying that only Kao Shun is left to guard the city and they would help any one who would come to save them. Thus our enemy will be inveigled into the city and we will destroy him either by lire or ambush. His skill may be equal to encompassing the universe but he will not escape.”

Lü Pu thought this trick might be tried and they arranged for the Tʻien family letter to be sent. Coming soon after the defeat, when Tsʻao Tsʻao felt uncertain what step to take next, the secret letter was read with joy. It promised help and said the sign should be a white flag with the word “Rectitude” written thereon.

“Heaven is going to give me Puyang,” said Tsʻao joyfully. So he rewarded the messenger very liberally and began to prepare for the expedition.

Then came Liu Hua saying, “Lü Pu is no strategist but Chʻên Kung is full of guile; I fear treachery in this letter and you must be careful. If you will go, then enter with only one third your army leaving the others outside the city as a reserve.”

Tsʻao agreed to take this precaution. He went to Puyang, which he found gay with fluttering flags. Looking carefully he saw among them, at the west gate, the white flag with the looked-for inscription. His heart rejoiced.

That day, just about noon, the city gates opened and two bodies of soldiers appeared as if to fight. Tsʻao Tsʻao told off two of his captains to oppose them. Neither body, however, came on to engage but fell back into the city. By this move the assailants had been drawn close up to the drawbridge. From within the city several soldiers were seen taking any chance of confusion to escape and come outside. To Tsʻao Tsʻao they said they were clients of the Tʻien family and they gave him secret letters stating the signal would be given about watch setting by beating a gong. That would be the time to attack. The gates would be opened.

So the rescuers were stationed and four trusty captains told off to accompany Tsʻao Tsʻao into the city. One of these, Li Tien, pressed upon his master the precaution of letting him go first. But Tsʻao Tsʻao bade him be silent. “If I do not go, who will advance?” And so at the time appointed he led the way. The moon had not yet arisen.

As he drew near the west gate they heard a crackling sound, then a loud shouting, and then torches moved hither and thither. Next the gates were thrown wide open and Tsʻao Tsʻao, whipping up his steed, galloped in.

But when he reached the residence he noticed the streets were quite deserted and then he knew he had been tricked. Wheeling round his horse he shouted to his followers to retire. This was the signal for another move. An explosion of a signal-bomb was heard close at hand and it was echoed from every side in a deafening roar. Gongs and drums beat all around with a roar like rivers rushing backward to their source and the ocean boiling up from its depths. From two sides came bodies of soldiers eager to attack.

Tsʻao dashed off toward the north only to find his way barred; he tried for the south gate, but met enemies led by Kao Shun and Hou Chʻêng. His trusty henchman Tien Wei, with fierce eyes and gritting teeth, at last burst through and got out, with the enemy close after him.

But when he reached the drawbridge he glanced behind him and missed his master. Immediately he turned back and cut his way inside. Just within he met Li Tien.

“Where is our lord?” cried he.

“I am looking for him.”

“Quick! get help from outside,” shouted Tien Wei. “I will seek him.”

So one hastened for aid and the other slashed his way in, looking on every side for Tsʻao Tsʻao. He was not to be found. Dashing out of the city Tien Wei ran up against Yo Chin, who asked where their lord was.

“I have entered the city twice in search of him, but cannot find him,” said Tien.

“Let us go in together,” said Yo Chin.

They rode up to the gate. But the noise of bombs from the gate tower frightened Yo Chin’s horse, so that it refused to pass. Wherefore Tien Wei alone went in, butting through the smoke and dashing through the flames. But he got in and searched on every side.

When Tsʻao Tsʻao saw his sturdy protector cut his way out and disappear leaving him surrounded, he again made an attempt to reach the north gate. On the way, sharply outlined against the glow, he saw the figure of Lü Pu coming toward him with his halberd ready to kill. Tsʻao Tsʻao covered his face with his hand, whipped up his steed and galloped past. But Lü Pu came galloping up behind him and tapping him on the helmet with the halberd cried, “Where is Tsʻao Tsʻao?”

Tsʻao turned and, pointing to a dun horse well ahead, cried, “There; on that dun! that’s he.”

Hearing this Lü Pu left pursuing Tsʻao Tsʻao to gallop after the rider of the dun.

Thus relieved Tsʻao Tsʻao set off for the east gate. Then he fell in with Tien Wei, who took him under his protection and fought through the press leaving a trail of death behind till they reached the gate. Here the fire was raging fiercely and burning beams were falling on all sides. The earth element seemed to have interchanged with the fire element. Tien Wei warded off the burning pieces of wood with his lance and rode into the smoke making a way for his lord. Just as they were passing through the gate a flaming beam fell from the gate tower. Tsʻao just warded it off with his arm but it struck his steed on the quarters and knocked him down. Tsʻao’s hand and arm were badly burned and his hair and beard singed.

Tien Wei turned back to his rescue. Luckily Hsiahou Yüan came along just then and the two raised Tsʻao and set him on Yüan’s horse. And thus they got him out of the burning city. But the fighting went on till daybreak.

Tsʻao Tsʻao returned to his camp. His officers crowded about his tent, anxious for news of his health. He soon recovered and laughed when he thought of his escape.

“I blundered into that fool’s trap, but I will have my revenge,” said he.

“Let us have a new plan soon,” said Kuo Chia.

“I will turn his trick to my own use. I will spread the false report that I was burned in the fire and that I died at the fifth watch. He will come to attack as soon as the news gets abroad and I will have an ambush ready for him in Maling Hills. I will get him this time.”

“Really a fine stratagem!” said Kuo.

So the soldiers were put into mourning and the report went everywhere that Tsʻao Tsʻao was dead. And soon Lü Pu heard it and he assembled his men at once to make a surprise attack, taking the road by the Maling Hills to his enemy’s camp.

As he was passing the hills he heard the drums beating for an advance and the ambushed soldiers leapt out all round him. Only by desperate fighting did he get out of the mêlée and with a sadly diminished force returned to his camp at Puyang. There he strengthened the fortifications and could not be tempted forth to battle.

This year locusts suddenly appeared and they consumed every green blade. There was a famine and in the east grain rose to fifty “strings” a hu (bushel). People even took to cannibalism. Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army suffered from want and he marched them to Chuangchʻêng. Lü Pu took his men to Shanyang. Perforce therefore the fighting ceased.

It is time to return to Hsüchou. Tʻao Chʻien, over sixty years of age, suddenly fell seriously ill and he summoned his confident, Mi Chu, to his chamber to make arrangements for the future. As to the situation the adviser said, “Tsʻao Tsʻao abandoned his attack on this place because of his enemy’s seizure of Yenchou and now they are both keeping the peace solely because of the famine. But Tsʻao will surely renew the attack in the spring. When Liu Yüan-tê refused to allow you to vacate office in his favour you were in full vigour. Now you are ill and weak and you can make this a reason for retirement. He will not refuse again.”

So a message was sent to the little garrison town calling Liu Pei to a counsel on military affairs. This brought him with his brothers and a slender escort. He was at once called in to the sick man’s chamber. Quickly disposing of the enquiries about his health Tʻao soon came to the real object of his call for Liu Pei.

“Sir, I asked you to come for the sole reason that I am dangerously ill and like to die at any time. I look to you, illustrious Sir, to consider the Hans and their Empire as more important than anything else, and so to take over the symbols of office of this district, the commission and the seal, that I may close my eyes in peace.”

“You have two sons, why not depute them to relieve you?” said Liu Pei.

“Both lack the requisite talents. I trust you will instruct them after I have gone, but do not let them have the guidance of affairs.”

“But I am unequal to so great a charge.”

“I will recommend to you one who could assist you. He is Sun Chʻien who could be appointed to some post.”

Turning to Mi Chu he said, “The noble Liu here is the most prominent man of the time and you should serve him well.”

Still would Liu Pei have put from him such a post, but just then the Prefect, pointing to his heart to indicate his sincerity, passed away.

When the ceremonial wailings of the officials were over, the insignia of office were brought to Liu Pei. But he would have none of them. The following days the inhabitants of the town and country around crowded into the residence bowing and with tears calling upon Liu to receive the charge. “If you do not we cannot live in peace,” said they. To these requests his brothers added their persuasion, till at length he consented to assume the administrative duties. He forthwith appointed Sun and Mi as his official advisers and Chʻên Têng his secretary. His guard came up from Hsiaopʻei and he put forth proclamations to reassure the people.

He also attended to the burial ceremonies, he and all his army dressing in mourning. After the fullest sacrifices and ceremonies a burial place for the late Prefect was found close to the source of the Yellow River. The dead man’s testament was forwarded to Court.

The news of the events in Hsüchou duly reached the ears of Tsʻao Tsʻao, then in Chüanchʻêng. Said he, angrily, “I have missed my revenge. This Liu has simply stepped into command of the district without expending half an arrow; he sat still and attained his desire. But I will put him to death and then dig up Tʻao’s corpse in revenge for the death of my noble father.”

Orders were issued for the army to prepare for a new campaign against Hsüchou. But an adviser, Hsün Yü, remonstrated with Tsʻao saying, “When the founder of the Han dynasty secured Kuanchung and his illustrious successor on the throne, Kuang-wu, took Honei, they both first consolidated their position whereby they could command the whole Empire. Their whole progress was from success to success. Hence they accomplished their great designs in spite of difficulties. Illustrious Sir, your Kuanchung and your Honei are Yenchow, which you had first, and Hochi which is of the utmost strategic value. If you undertake this expedition against Hsüchou leaving many men here, you will not accomplish your design; if you leave too few, Lü Pu will fall upon us. And finally if you lose this and fail to gain Hsüchou whither will you retire? That prefecture is not vacant. Although Tʻao has gone, Liu Pei holds it, and since the people support him they will fight to the death for him. To abandon this place for that is to exchange the great for the small, to barter the trunk for the branches, to leave safety and run into danger. I would implore you to reflect well.”

Tsʻao Tsʻao replied, “It is not a good plan to keep soldiers idle here during such scarcity.”

“If that is so it would be more advantageous to attack the east and feed your army on their supplies. Some remnant of the Yellow Turbans are there with stores and treasures of all kinds that they have amassed by plundering wherever they could. Rebels of their stamp are easily broken. Break them, and you can feed your army with their grain. Moreover, both the Court and the common people will join in blessing you.”

This new design appealed strongly to Tsʻao Tsʻao and he quickly began his preparations to carry it out. He left Hsiahou Tun and Tsʻao Jên to guard Chüanchʻêng while his main body, under his own command, marched to seize Chʻênchʻêng. This done they went to Juying.

Now when the Yellow Turbans knew that Tsʻao Tsʻao was approaching they came out in a great body to oppose him. They met at Goat Hill. Though the rebels were numerous, they were a poor lot, a mere pack of foxes and dogs without organisation and lacking discipline. Tsʻao Tsʻao ordered his strong archers and vigorous crossbowmen to keep them in check.

Tien Wei was sent out to challenge. The rebel leader chose a second-rate champion for his side, who rode out and was vanquished in the third bout. Then Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army pushed forward and they made a camp at Goat Hill.

The following day the rebel Huang Shao himself led forth his army and made his battle array along a circle. A leader advanced on foot to offer combat. He wore a yellow turban on his head and a green robe. His weapon was an iron mace. He shouted, “I am Ho Man the Yakcha who shoots across the sky; who dare fight with me?”

Tsʻao Hung uttered a great shout and jumped from the saddle to accept the challenge. Sword in hand he advanced on foot and the two engaged in fierce combat in the face of both armies. They exchanged some scores of blows, neither gaining the advantage. Then Tsʻao Hung feigned defeat and ran away. Ho Man went after him. Just as he closed Hung tried a feint and then suddenly wheeling about, wounded his adversary. Another slash, and Ho Man lay dead.

At once Li Tien dashed forward into the midst of the enemy and laid hands on the rebel chief whom he carried off captive. Tsʻao Tsʻao’s men then set on and scattered the rebels. The spoil of treasure and food was immense.

The other leader, Ho I, fled with a few horsemen toward Kopei.

While on their road thither there suddenly appeared a force led by a certain swashbuckler, who shall be nameless for the moment. This bravo was a shortish man, thickset and stout, with a waist ten span in girth. He used a long sword.

He barred the way of retreat. The rebel leader set his spear and rode toward him. But at the first encounter the bravo caught him under his arm and bore him off a prisoner. All his men were terror-stricken, dropped from their horses and allowed themselves to be bound. Then the victor drove them like cattle into an enclosure with high banks.

Presently Tien Wei, still pursuing the rebels, reached Kopei. The swashbuckler went out to meet him.

“Are you also a Yellow Turban?” said Tien Wei.

“I have some hundreds of them prisoners in an enclosure here.”

“Why not bring them out?” said Tien.

“I will if you win this sword from my hand.”

This annoyed Tien Wei who attacked him. They engaged and the combat lasted for two long hours and then was still undecided. Both rested a while. The swashbuckler was the first to recover and renewed the challenge. They fought till dusk and then, as their horses were quite spent, the combat was once more suspended.

In the meantime some of Tien Wei’s men had run off to tell the story of this wondrous fight to Tsʻao Tsʻao who hastened in amazement, followed by many officers to watch it and see the result.

Next day the unknown warrior rode out again and Tsʻao Tsʻao saw him. In his heart he rejoiced to see such a doughty hero and desired to gain his services for his own side. So he bade his champion feign defeat.

Tien Wei rode out in answer to the challenge and some score of bouts were fought. Then Tien Wei turned and fled toward his own side. The bravo followed and came quite close. But a flight of arrows drove him away.

Tsʻao Tsʻao hastily drew off his men for some distance and then secretly sent a certain number to dig a pitfall and sent hookmen to lie in ambush.

The following day Tien Wei was sent out with a small company of horse. His adversary nothing loth came to meet him.

“Why does the defeated leader venture forth again?” cried he laughing.

The swashbuckler spurred forward to join battle but Tien Wei, after a faint show of fighting, turned his horse and rode away. His adversary intent upon capture, took no care and he and his followers all blundered into the pitfall. The hookmen took them all captive, bound them and carried them before their chief.

As soon as he saw the prisoners, Tsʻao advanced from his tent, sent away the soldiers and with his own hands loosened the leader’s bonds. Then he brought out clothing and dressed him, bade him be seated and asked who he was and whence he came.

“I am named Hsü Chʻu, and by my near friends called Chungkʻang. I am from Chao. [4] When the rebellion broke out I and my relations built a stronghold within a rampart for protection. One day the robbers came but I had stones ready for them. I told my relatives to keep on bringing them up to me and I threw them, hitting somebody every time I threw. This drove off the robbers.”

“Another day they came and we were short of grain. So I agreed with them to an exchange of plough oxen against grain. They delivered the grain and were driving away the oxen when the beasts took fright and tore off to their pens. I seized two of them by the tail, one with each hand, and hauled them backwards a hundred or so paces. The robbers were so amazed that they thought no more about oxen but went their way. So they never troubled us again.”

“I have heard of your mighty exploits,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao. “Will you join my army?”

“That is my strongest desire,” said Hsü.

So he called up his clan, some hundreds in all, and they formally submitted to Tsʻao Tsʻao. The strong man received the rank of Tu-yü and received ample rewards. The two rebel leaders were executed.

Juying being now perfectly quiet Tsʻao Tsʻao withdrew his army. His lieutenants came out to welcome him and they told him that spies had reported Yenchou to be left defenceless, all its garrison having given themselves up to plundering the surrounding country, and they wanted him to go against it without loss of time. “With these soldiers fresh from victory the city will fall at a tap of the drum,” said they.

So the army was marched to the city. An attack was quite unexpected but the two leaders, Hsüeh and Li, hurried out their few soldiers to fight. Hsü Chʻu, the latest recruit, said he wished to capture these two and he would make of them an introductory gift.

The task was given him and he rode forth. Li Fêng with his halberd advanced to meet Hsü Chʻu. The combat was brief as Li fell in the second bout. His colleague retired with his men. He found the drawbridge had been seized so that he could not get shelter within the city. He led his men toward Chüyeh. He was followed and slain. His soldiers scattered to the four winds. And thus Yenchou was recaptured.

Next an expedition was prepared to take Puyang. The army moved out in perfect order with van leaders, commanders of the flanks and rear guard. Tsʻao Tsʻao led the centre; Tien Wei and Hsü Chʻu were van leaders. When they approached Puyang, Lü Pu wished to go out in person and alone to attack but his adviser protested, begging him to await the arrival of his officers.

“Whom do I fear?” said Lü.

So he threw caution to the winds and went. He met his foes and he began to revile them. The redoubtable Hsü Chʻu went to fight with him, but after a score of bouts neither combatant was any the worse.

“He is not the sort that one man can overcome,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao, and he sent Tien Wei to assist. Lü Pu stood the double onslaught. Soon after the flank commanders joined in and Lü Pu had six opponents. These proved really too many for him so he turned his horse and rode back to the city.

But when the members of the Tʻien family saw him coming back beaten they raised the drawbridge. Pu shouted to open the gates, but the Tʻiens said, “We have gone over to Tsʻao Tsʻao.” This was hard to hear and the beaten man abused them roundly before he left. The faithful Chʻên Kung got away through the east gate taking with him the general’s family.

Thus Puyang came into Tsʻao Tsʻao’s hands and for their present services the Tʻien family were pardoned their previous fault. However, Liu Hua said that savage Lü Pu left alive was a great danger and he should be hunted down. Wherefore Tsʻao Tsʻao determined to follow Lü Pu to Tingtʻao whither he had gone for refuge.

Lü Pu and many of his captains were assembled in the city, but certain of them were out foraging. Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army arrived but did not attack for many days and presently he withdrew a long way and made a stockade. It was the time of harvest and he set his men to cut the wheat for food. The spies having reported this to Lü Pu he came over to see, but when he saw that Tsʻao Tsʻao’s stockade lay near a thick wood he feared an ambush and retired. Tsʻao Tsʻao heard that he had come and gone and guessed the reason.

“He fears an ambush in the wood,” said he. “We will set up flags there and deceive him. There is a long embankment near the camp but behind it there is no water. There we will lay an ambush to fall upon Lü Pu when he comes to burn the wood.”

So he hid all his soldiers behind the embankment except half a hundred drummers, and he got together many peasants to loiter within the stockade as though it was empty.

Lü Pu rode back and told his adviser what he had seen. “This Tsʻao Tsʻao is very crafty and full of wiles,” said the adviser; “great care is necessary.”

“I will use fire this time and burn out his ambush,” said Lü Pu.

Next morning he rode out and there he saw flags flying everywhere in the wood. He ordered his men forward to set fire on all sides. But to his surprise no one rushed out to make for the stockade. Still he heard the beating of drums and doubt filled his mind. Suddenly he saw a party of soldiers move out from the shelter of the stockade. He galloped over to see what it meant.

Then the signal-bombs exploded; out rushed the men and all their leaders dashed forward. Lü Pu was at a loss and fled into the open country. One of his captains was killed by an arrow. Two thirds of his men were lost and the beaten remainder went to tell Chʻên Kung what had come to pass.

“We had better leave” said he. “An empty city cannot be held.”

So he and Kao Shun, taking their chief’s family with them, abandoned Tingtʻao. When Tsʻao Tsʻao’s soldiers got into the city they met with no resistance, one leader burned himself to death, the other fled to Yüan Shu.

Thus the whole of Shantung fell under the power of Tsʻao Tsʻao.

How he tranquillised the people and rebuilt the cities will not be told here. But Lü Pu in his retreat fell in with his foragers and Chʻên Kung also rejoined him so that he was by no means broken.

“I have but few men,” said he, “but still enough to break Tsʻao Tsʻao.” And so he retook the backward road.

Thus does fortune alternate, victory, defeat, The happy conqueror to-day, to-morrow, must retreat.

What was the fate of Lü Pu will appear later.

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Chapter XIII

GREAT BATTLE BETWEEN LI TSʻUI AND KUO SSŬ: THE EMPEROR RESCUED.

The last chapter told of the defeat of Lü Pu, and his gathering the remnant of his army at Haipin. When all his lieutenants had joined him he began to feel strong enough to try conclusions with Tsʻao Tsʻao once again.

Said Chʻên Kung, who was opposed to this course, “He is too strong; seek some place where you can rest a time before trying.”

“Suppose I went to Yüan Shao,” said Lü Pu.

“Send first to make enquiries.”

Lü Pu agreed. The news of the fighting between Tsʻao and Lü Pu had reached Ichou and one of Yüan’s advisers, Shên Pʻei, warned him saying, “If this savage Lü Pu gets possession of Yenchou he will certainly attempt to add this district to it. For your own safety you should help to crush him.”

Wherefore Yen Liang, with five legions, was sent. The spies heard this and at once told Lü Pu, who was greatly disturbed and called in the faithful Chʻên Kung.

“Go over to Liu Pei, who has lately succeeded to Hsüchou.”

Hence Lü Pu went thither. Some one urged Liu Pei to go out to meet such a warrior and receive him with honour. Mi Chu was strongly against receiving him at all saying he was a cruel, bloodthirsty beast.

But Pei replied, “How would misfortune have been averted from this place if he had not attacked Yenchou? He cannot be our enemy now that he comes seeking an asylum.”

“Brother, your heart is really too good. Although it may be as you say yet it would be well to prepare,” said Chang Fei.

The new Prefect with a great following met Lü a long way outside the city gates and the two chiefs rode in side by side. They proceeded to the residence and there, after the elaborate ceremonies of reception were over, they sat down to converse.

“After Wang Yün’s plot to slay Tung Cho and my misfortune in the Li-Kuo sedition, I drifted about from one place to another and none of the nobles seemed willing to receive me. When Tsʻao Tsʻao wickedly invaded this district and you, Sir, came to its rescue, I aided you by attacking Yenchou and thus diverting a portion of his force. I did not think then that I should be the victim of a vile plot and lose my leaders and my soldiers. But now if you will I offer myself to you that we may together accomplish great designs.”

Liu Pei replied, “When the late Prefect died there was no one to administer Hsüchou and so I assumed that task for a time. Now since you are here, General, it is most suitable that I retire in your favour.”

Whereupon he handed the insignia and the seal to Lü Pu. Lü was on the point of accepting them when he saw Kuan and Chang, who stood behind the Prefect, glaring at him with angry eyes, so he put on a smile and said, “Lü may be something of a fighting man but he could not rule a place like this.”

Yüan-tê repeated his offer. Chʻên Kung said, “The strong guest does not oppress his host. You need not fear, O Prince Elect.”

Then Yüan-tê desisted. Banquets were held and dwelling places prepared for the guest and his retinue. As soon as convenient Lü Pu returned the feast. Liu Pei went with his two brothers. Half through the banquet Lü Pu requested his guest to retire to one of the inner private rooms, whither the brothers followed him. There Lü Pu bade his wife and daughters bow as to their benefactor. Here also Yüan-tê showed excessive modesty and Pu said, “Good younger brother, you need not be so very modest.”

Chang Fei heard what he said and his eyes glared. “What sort of a man are you that dares call our brother, ‘younger brother’?” cried he. “He is one of the ruling family (a golden branch, a jade leaf). Come out; and I will fight you three hundred bouts for the insult.”

Yüan-tê hastily checked the impulsive one and Kuan Yü persuaded him to go away. Then the host apologised saying, “My poor brother talks wildly after he has been drinking. I hope you will not blame him.”

Lü Pu nodded, but said nothing. Soon after the guests departed. But as the host escorted Liu Pei to his carriage he saw Chang Fei galloping up armed as for a fray.

“Lü Pu, you and I will fight that duel of three hundred!” shouted he.

Liu Pei bade Kuan Yü check him. Next day Lü Pu came to take leave of his host. “You, O Prince, kindly received me but I fear your brothers and I cannot agree. So I will seek some other asylum.”

“General, if you go, my brother’s fault becomes grave. My rude brother has offended and must eventually apologise. In the meantime what think you of a temporary sojourn at the town where I was encamped for some time, Hsiaopʻei? The place is small and mean, but it is near and I will see to it that you are supplied with all you need.”

Lü Pu thanked him and accepted this offer. He led his men there and took up residence. After he had gone Liu Pei buried his annoyance and Chang Fei did not again refer to the matter.

That Tsʻao Tsʻao had subdued Shantung has been stated before. He memorialised the throne and was rewarded with the title of General with the epithet “Firm Virtue” and a marquisate. At this time the rebellious Li Tsʻui had made himself Ta-ssŭ-ma, or Minister of War, and his colleague styled himself Grand Commander. Their conduct was abominable but no one dared to criticise them. The Tai-yü Yang Piao and the Minister of Agriculture, Chu Chien, privately talked with the Emperor Hsien and said, “Tsʻao Tsʻao has twenty legions of soldiers and many capable advisers and leaders; it would be well for the Empire if he would lend his support to the imperial family and help to rid the government of this evil party.”

His Majesty wept, “I am weary of the insults and contempt of these wretches and should be very glad to have them removed,” said he.

“I have thought of a plan to estrange Li and Kuo and so make them destroy each other. Then Tsʻao could come and cleanse the Court,” said Piao.

“How will you manage it?” asked the Emperor.

“Kuo’s wife is very jealous and we can take advantage of her weakness to bring about a quarrel.”

So Yang Piao received instruction to act, with a secret edict to support him.

Piao’s wife made an excuse to visit Madam Kuo at her palace and, in the course of conversation, said “There is talk of secret liaison between the General, your husband, and the wife of the Minister Li. It is a great secret, but if the Minister knew it he might try to harm your husband. I think you ought to have very little to do with that family.”

Madam Kuo was surprised but said, “I have wondered why he has been sleeping away from home lately, but I did not think there was anything shameful connected with it. I should never have known if you had not spoken. I must put a stop to it.”

By and by, when Madam Yang took her leave, her hostess thanked her warmly for the information she had given.

Some days passed and Kuo Ssŭ was going over to the dwelling of his colleague to a dinner. His wife did not wish him to go and she said, “This Tsʻui is very deep and one cannot fathom his designs. You two are not of equal rank and if he made away with you, what would become of your poor handmaid?”

Kuo Ssŭ paid no attention and his wife could not prevail on him to stay at home. Late in the afternoon some presents arrived from the Li palace and Kuo’s wife secretly put poison into the delicacies before she set them before her lord. He was going to taste at once but she said, “It is unwise to consume things that come from outside. Let us try on a dog first.”

They did and the dog died. This incident made Kuo doubt the kindly intentions of his colleague.

One day, at the close of business at Court, Li invited Kuo to his palace. After Kuo arrived home in the evening, rather the worse for too much wine, he was seized with a colic. His wife said she suspected poison and hastily administered an emetic, which relieved the pain. Kuo Ssŭ began to feel angry.

“We did everything together and helped each other always. Now he wants to injure me. If I do not get in the first blow, I shall suffer some injury.”

So Kuo began to prepare his guard for any sudden emergency. This was told to Li and he in turn grew angry, saying, “So Kuo is doing so and so.”

Then he got his guard under way and came to attack Kuo. Both houses had several legions and the quarrel became so serious that they fought a pitched battle under the city walls. When that was over both sides turned to plunder the people.

Then a nephew of Li’s suddenly surrounded the palace, put the Emperor and Empress Dowager Fu in two carriages and carried them off. The palace attendants were made to follow on foot. As they went out of the rear gate they met Kuo’s army who began to shoot at the cavalcade with arrows. They killed many attendants before Li’s army came up and forced them to retire.

It is unnecessary to say how the carriages were got out of the palace but they eventually reached Li’s camp, while Kuo’s men plundered the palace and carried off all the women left there to their camp. Then the palace was set on fire.

As soon as Kuo Ssŭ heard of the whereabouts of the Emperor he came over to attack the camp. The Emperor between these two opposing factions was greatly alarmed.

Slowly the Hans had declined but renewed their vigour with Kuang-Wu, Twelve were the rulers before him, followed him also twelve others. Foolish were two of the latest, dangers surrounded the altars, These were degenerate days, with authority given to eunuchs. Then did Ho Chin the simple, the inept, who commanded the army, Warriors call to the capital, wishing to drive out the vermin; Though they drove out the leopard, tigers and wolves quickly entered, All kinds of evil were wrought by a low class creature from Hsichou. Wang Yün, honest of heart, beguiled this wretch with a woman, Much desired of his henchman, thus sowing seeds of dissension. Strife resulted, and peace no longer dwelt in the Empire. No one suspected that Li and Kuo would continue the evil, Much to the sorrow of China; yet they strove for a trifle. Famine stalked in the palace, grief for the clashing of weapons; Why did the warriors strive? Why was the land thus partitioned? We had turned aside from the way appointed of Heaven. Kings must ponder these things; heavy the burden lies on them, Chiefest in all the realm theirs is no common appointment, Should the King falter or fail, calamities fall on the people, The Empire is drenched with their blood, grisly ruin surrounds them. Steeped in sorrow and sad, read I the ancient records, Long is the tale of years; the tale of sorrow is longer. Wherefore he who would rule, chiefly must exercise forethought. This and his keen-edged blade, these must suffice to maintain him.

Kuo Ssŭ’s army arrived and Li Tsʻui went out to give battle. Kuo’s men had no success and retired. Then Li Tsʻui removed the imperial captives to Meiwu with his nephew as gaoler. Supplies were reduced and famine showed itself on the faces of the eunuchs. The Emperor sent to Li to request five measures of rice and five sets of bullock bones for his attendants. Li angrily replied, “The Court gets food morning and evening; why do they ask for more?”

He sent putrid meat and rotten grain and the Emperor was very vexed at the new insult.

Yang Piao counselled patience. “He is a base creature but, under the present circumstances, Your Majesty must put up with it. You may not provoke him.”

The Emperor bowed and was silent, but the tears fell on his garments. Suddenly some one came in with the tidings that a force of cavalry, their sabres glittering in the sun, was approaching to rescue them. Then they heard the gongs beat and the roll of the drums.

The Emperor sent to find out who it was. But it was Kuo Ssŭ, and the sadness fell again. Presently arose a great din. For Li had gone out to do battle with Kuo, whom he abused by name.

“I treated you well and why did you try to kill me?” said Li.

“You are a rebel, why should I not slay you?” cried Kuo.

“You call me rebel when I am guarding the Emperor?”

“You have abducted him; do you call that guarding?”

“Why so many words? Let us forgo a battle and settle the matter in single combat, the winner to take the Emperor and go.”

They two fought in front of their armies but neither could prevail over the other. Then they saw Yang Piao come riding up to them, crying, “Rest a while, O Commanders! for I have invited a party of officers to arrange a peace.”

Wherefore the two leaders retired to their camps. Soon Yang Piao, Sun Chʻien and three score other officials came up and went to Kuo’s camp. They were all thrown into confinement.

“We came with good intentions,” they moaned, “and we are treated like this.”

“Li Tsʻui has run off with the Emperor but I have got his officers,” said Kuo.

“What does it mean? One has the Emperor, the other his officers. What do you want?” said the peace-maker, Yang Piao.

Kuo lost patience and drew his sword, but a certain Yang Mi persuaded him not to slay the speaker. Then he released Yang Piao and Sun Chʻien; but kept the others in the camp, “Here are we two officers of the throne and we cannot help our lord. We have been born in vain,” said Yang Piao.

Throwing their arms about each other they wept and fell swooning to the earth. Sun Chʻien went home, fell seriously ill and died.

Thereafter the two adversaries fought every day for nearly three months each losing many men.

Now Li Tsʻui was irreligious and practised magic. He often called witches to beat drums and summon spirits, even when in camp. Chia Hsü used to remonstrate with him, but quite uselessly.

A certain Yang Chi said to the Emperor, “That Chia Hsü, although a friend of Li’s, never seems to have lost the sense of loyalty to Your Majesty.”

Soon after Chia Hsü himself arrived. The Emperor sent away his attendants and said to him weeping the while, “Can you not pity the Hans and help me?”

Chia prostrated himself, saying, “That is my dearest wish. But, Sire, say no more, let they servant work out a plan.”

The Emperor dried his tears and soon Li Tsʻui came in. He wore a sword by his side and strode straight up to the Emperor, whose face became the colour of clay. Then he spoke.

“Kuo Ssŭ has failed in his duty and imprisoned the court officers. He wished to slay Your Majesty and you would have been captured but for me.”

The Emperor joined his hands together in salute and thanked him. He went away. Before long Huangfu Li entered and the Emperor, knowing him as a man of persuasive tongue and that he came from the same district as Li, bade him go to both factions to try to arrange peace. He accepted the mission and first went to Kuo, who said he was willing to release the officers if Li Tsʻui would restore the Emperor to full liberty. He then went to the other side.

To Li he said, “Since I am a Hsiliang man the Emperor and the officers have selected me to make peace between you and your adversary. He has consented to cease the quarrel; will you agree to peace?”

“I overthrew Lü Pu; I have upheld the government for four years and have many great services to my credit as all the world knows. That other fellow, that horse-thief, has dared to seize the officers of state and to set himself up against me. I have sworn to slay him. Look around you. Do you not think my army large enough to break him?”

“It does not follow,” said Huangfu Li. “In ancient days in Yuchʻing, Hou I, proud of and confident in his archer’s skill, gave no thought to gathering difficulties and so perished. Lately you yourself have seen the powerful Tung Cho betrayed by Lü Pu, who had received many benefits at his hands. In no time his head was hanging over the gate. So you see mere force is not enough to ensure safety. Now you are a General, with the axes and whips and all the symbols of rank and high office, your descendants and all your clan occupy distinguished positions. You must confess that the State has rewarded you liberally. True, Kuo has seized the officers of State, but you have done the same to “The Most Revered.” Who is worse than the other?”

Li angrily drew his sword and shouted, “Did the Son of Heaven send you to mock and shame me?”

But Yang Fêng checked him. “Kuo Ssŭ is still alive,” said he, “and to slay the imperial messenger would be giving him a popular excuse to raise an army against you. And all the nobles would join him.”

Others also persuaded Li and gradually his wrath cooled down. The messenger of peace was urged to go away. But he would not be satisfied with failure. He remained there and cried loudly, “Li Tsʻui will not obey the Emperor’s command. He will kill his Prince to set up himself.”

Hu Miao tried to shut his mouth saying, “Do not utter such words. You will only bring hurt upon yourself.”

But Huangfu Li shrieked at him also. “You also are an officer of state and yet you even back up the rebel. When the prince is put to shame the minister dies. If it be my lot to suffer death at the hands of Li Tsʻui, so be it!”

And he maintained a torrent of abuse. The Emperor heard of the incident, called in Huangfu Li and sent him away to his own country.

Now more than half Li Tsʻui’s men were from Hsiliang and he had also the assistance of the Chʻiang, or tribes beyond the border. The stories spread by Huangfu Li, that Li Tsʻui was a rebel and so were those who helped him, and that there would be a day of heavy reckoning, were readily believed and the soldiers were much disturbed. Li Tsʻui sent one of his officers to arrest Huangfu Li, but the officer had a sense of right and instead of carrying out his orders returned to say he could not be found.

Chia Hsü tried to work on the feelings of the barbarian tribes. He said to them. “The Emperor knows you are loyal to him and have bravely fought and suffered. He has issued a secret command for you to go home and then he will reward you.”

The tribesmen had a grievance against Li Tsʻui for not paying them, so they listened readily to the insidious persuasions of Chia Hsü and deserted. Then Chia represented to the Emperor the covetous nature of Li and asked that honours be heaped upon him now that he was deserted and enfeebled. So he was raised to the rank of President of a Board of State. This delighted him greatly and he ascribed his promotion to the potency of his wise women’s prayers and incantations. He rewarded those people most liberally.

But his army was forgotten. Wherefore Yang Fêng was angry and he said to one Sung Kuo, “We have taken all the risks and exposed ourselves to stones and arrows in his service, yet instead of giving us any reward he ascribes all the credit to those witches of his.”

“Let us put him out of the way and rescue the Emperor,” said Sung.

“You explode a bomb within as signal and I will attack from outside.”

So the two agreed to act together that very night in the second watch. But they had been overheard and the eavesdropper told Li Tsʻui. The traitorous Sung was seized and put to death. That night Yang waited outside for the signal and while waiting, out came Li himself and found him. Then a fight began, which lasted till the fourth watch. But Yang Fêng got away and fled to Hsian (Sian) in the west.

But from this time Li Tsʻui’s army began to fall away and he felt more than ever the losses caused by Kuo’s frequent attacks. Then came news that Chang Chi, at the head of a large army, was coming down from the west to make peace between the two factions. Chang said he would attack the one who was recalcitrant. Li Tsʻui tried to gain favour by hastening to send to tell Chang Chi he was ready to make peace. So did Kuo Ssŭ.

So the strife of the rival factions ended at last and Chang Chi memorialised asking the Emperor to go to Hungnung near Loyang. He was delighted saying he had longed to go back to the east. Chang Chi was rewarded with the title of General of Cavalry and was highly honoured. He saw to it that the Emperor and the Court had good supplies of necessaries. Kuo Ssŭ set free all his captive officers and Li Tsʻui prepared transport for the Court to move to the east. He told off companies of his veterans to escort the cavalcade.

The progress had been without incident as far as Hsinfung. Near Paling the west wind of autumn came on to blow with great violence, but soon above the howling of the gale was heard the trampling of a large body of horse. They stopped at a bridge and barred the way.

“Who comes?” cried a voice.

“The Imperial Chariot is passing and who dares stop it?” said Yang Chi, riding forward.

Two leaders advanced, “General Kuo has ordered us to guard the bridge and stop all spies. You say the Emperor is here; we must see him and then we will let you pass.” So the beaded curtain was raised and the Emperor said, “I the Emperor am here. Why do you not retire to let me pass, Gentlemen?” They all shouted, “Long Life! Long Life!” and fell away to allow the cortège through.

But when they reported what they had done Kuo was very angry. “I meant to outwit Chang Chi, seize the Emperor and hold him in Meiwu. Why have you let him get away?”

He put the two officers to death and set out to pursue the cavalcade, and overtook it just at Huayin. The noise of a great shouting arose behind the travellers and a loud voice commanded the chariot to stop. The Emperor burst into tears.

“Out of the wolf’s den into the tiger’s mouth!” said he.

No one knew what to do, they were all too frightened. But when the rebel army was just upon them they heard the beating of drums and from behind some hills came into the open a cohort of soldiers preceded by a great flag bearing the well known name of that trusted leader, Yang Fêng.

Now after Yang Fêng’s defeat he had camped under Chungnanshan and had come up to guard the Emperor as soon as he knew of his journey. Seeing it was necessary to fight now, he drew up his line of battle and Tsʻui Jung, one of Kuo’s leaders, rode out and began a volley of abuse. Yang Fêng turned and said, “Where is Kung-ming?”

In response out came a valiant warrior gripping a heavy battle-axe. He galloped up on his fleet bay, making directly for Tsʻui Jung, whom he felled at the first blow. At this the whole force dashed forward and routed Kuo. The defeated army went back some twenty li, while Yang Fêng rode forward to see the Emperor who graciously said, “It is a great service you have rendered; you have saved my life.”

Yang bowed and thanked him and the Emperor asked to see the actual slayer of the rebel leader. So he was led to the chariot where he bowed and was presented as “Hsü Huang, also known as Hsü Kung-ming, of Yangchün.”

Then the cavalcade went forward, Yang Fêng acting as escort as far as Huayin the halting place for the night. The General there supplied them with clothing and food and the Emperor passed the night in Yang Fêng’s camp.

Next day Kuo Ssŭ, having mustered his men, appeared in front of the camp and Hsü Huang rode out to engage. But Kuo threw his men out so that they entirely surrounded the camp and the Emperor was in the middle. The position was very critical, when help appeared in the person of a galloping horseman from the south-east and the rebels fell away. Then Hsü Huang smote them and so scored a victory.

When they had time to see their helper they found him to be Tung Chʻêng, the “State Uncle.” The Emperor wept as he related his sorrows and dangers.

Said Tung, “Be of good courage, Sire. We pledge ourselves to kill both the rebels and so purify the world.”

The Emperor bade them travel east as soon as possible and so they went on night and day till they reached their destination.

Kuo led his defeated army back and meeting Li Tsʻui told him of the rescue of the Emperor and whither he was going. “If they reach Shantung and get settled there, they will send out proclamations to the whole country, calling up the nobles to attack us and we and our families will be in danger.”

“Chang Chi holds Chʻangan and we must be careful. There is nothing to prevent a joint attack on Hungnung when we can kill the Emperor and divide the country between us,” said Li.

Kuo found this a suitable scheme, so their armies came together in one place and united in plundering the countryside. Wherever they went they left destruction behind them. Yang and Tung heard of their approach when they were yet a long way off so they turned back to meet them and fought the rebels at Tungchien.

The two rebels had previously made their plan. Since the loyal troops were few as compared with their own horde they would overwhelm them like a flood. So when the day of battle came they poured out covering the hills and filling the plains. The two leaders devoted themselves solely to the protection of the Emperor and the Empress. The officials, the attendants, the archives and records and all the paraphernalia of the Court were left to care for themselves. The rebels ravaged Hungnung, but the two faithful soldiers got the Emperor safely away into the north of Shênsi.

When the rebels showed signs of pursuit Yang and Tung sent to offer to discuss terms of peace, at the same time sending a secret edict to Hotung calling upon the old “White Wave General” Han and Li Yüeh and Hu Tsʻai for help. Li Yüeh was actually a brigand but the need for help was desperate.

These three being promised pardon for their faults and crimes and a grant of official rank, naturally responded to the call and thus the loyal side was strengthened so that Hungnung was recaptured. But meanwhile the rebels laid waste whatever place they reached, slaying the aged and weakly, forcing the strong to join their ranks. When going into a fight they forced these people-soldiers to the front and they called them the “Dare-to-die” soldiers.

The rebel force was very strong. When Li Yüeh, the late brigand, approached, Kuo Ssŭ bade his men scatter clothing and valuables along the road. The late robbers could not resist the temptation so a scramble began. The rebels fell upon the disordered ranks and did much damage. Yang and Tung could not save them so they took the Emperor away to the north.

But the rebels pursued. Li Yüeh said, “The danger is grave. I pray Your Majesty to mount a horse and go in advance.”

The Emperor replied, “I cannot bear to abandon my officers.”

They wept and struggled on as best they could. Hu Tsʻai was killed in one attack. The enemy came very near and the Emperor left his carriage and went on foot to the river where they sought a boat to ferry him to the other side. The weather was very cold and the Emperor and Empress cuddled up close to each other shivering. They reached the river but the banks were too high and they could not get down into the boat. So Yang Fêng proposed to fasten together the horses’ bridles and lower down the Emperor slung by the waist. However, some rolls of white silk were found and they rolled up the two imperial personages in the silk and thus they lowered them down near the boat. Then Li Yüeh took up his position in the prow leaning on his sword. The brother of the Empress carried her on his back into the boat.

The boat was too small to carry everybody and those unable to get on board clung to the cable, but Li Yüeh cut them down and they fell into the water. They ferried over the Emperor and then sent back the boat for the others. There was a great scramble to get on board and they had to chop off the fingers and hands of those who persisted in clinging to the boat.

The lamentation rose to the heavens. When they mustered on the farther bank many were missing, not a score of the Emperor’s suite were left. A bullock cart was found in which the Emperor travelled to Tayang. They had no food and at night sought shelter in a poor, tile-roofed house. The cottagers gave them some boiled millet but it was too coarse to be swallowed.

Next day the Emperor conferred titles on those who had protected him so far and they pushed on. Soon two officers of rank came up with the cortège and they bowed before His Majesty with many tears. They were Yang Piao and Han Jung. The Emperor and Empress lifted up their voices and wept with them.

Said Han Jung to his colleague, “The rebels have confidence in my words. You stay as guard of the Emperor and I will take my life in my hands and try to bring about peace.”

After he had gone the Emperor rested for a time in Yang’s camp and then was requested to make Anihsien the capital. But the town contained not a single lofty building and the court lived in grass huts devoid even of doors. They surrounded these with a fence of thorns as a protection, and within this the Emperor held counsel with his ministers. The soldiers camped round the fence.

Li Yüeh and his fellow ruffians showed their true colours. They wielded the powers of the Emperor as they wished and officials who offended them were beaten or abused even in the presence of the Emperor. They purposely provided thick wine and coarse food for the Emperor’s consumption. He struggled to swallow what they sent. Li Yüeh and Han Hsien joined in recommending to the throne the names of convicts, common soldiers, sorcerers, leeches and such people who thus obtained official ranks. There were more than two hundred of such people. As seals could not be engraved pieces of metal were hammered into some sort of a shape.

Now Han Jung went to see the two rebels who listened to him and set free the officials and palace people.

A famine occurred that same year and people were reduced to eating grass from the roadside. Starving they wandered hither and thither but food and clothing were sent to the Emperor from the surrounding districts and the Court began to enjoy a little repose.

Tung Chʻêng and Yang Fêng sent workmen to restore the palaces in Loyang with the intention of moving the Court thither. Li Yüeh was opposed to this and when argued with, that Loyang was really the capital as opposed to the paltry town of Ani, and removal would be but reasonable, he wound up by saying, “You may get the Court to remove but I shall remain here.”

But when the consent of the Emperor had been given and a start made Li Yüeh secretly sent to arrange with Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ to capture him. However, this plot leaked out and the escort so arranged as to prevent such a thing and they pressed on to Chikuan as rapidly as possible. Li heard this and without waiting for his colleagues to join him set out to act alone.

About the fourth watch, just as the cavalcade was passing Chikuan, a voice was heard shouting, “Stop those carriages! Li and Kuo are here.”

This frightened the Emperor greatly and his terror increased when he saw the whole mountain side suddenly light up.

The rebel party, erstwhile split in twain, To work their wicked will now join again.

How the Son of Heaven escaped this peril will be told in the next chapter.

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Chapter XIV

TSʻAO MÊNG-TÊ MOVES THE COURT: LÜ FÊNG-HSIEN RAIDS HSÜCHUN.

The last chapter closed with the arrival of Li Yüeh who shouted out falsely that the army was that of the two arch rebels Li and Kuo come to capture the imperial cavalcade. But Yang Fêng recognised the voice of Li Yüeh and bade Hsü Huang go out to fight him. He went and in the first bout the traitor fell. His men scattered and the travellers got safely through Chikuan. Here the Prefect, Chang Yang, supplied them plentifully with food and other necessaries and escorted the Emperor to Chihtao. For his timely help the Emperor conferred upon Chang Yang the rank of a Ta-ssŭ-ma, or President, and he went and camped at Yehwang.

Loyang was presently entered. Within the walls all was destruction. The palaces and halls had been burned, the streets were overgrown with grass and brambles and obstructed by heaps of ruins. The palaces and courts were represented by broken roofs and toppling walls. A small “palace” however was soon built and therein the officers of court presented their congratulations, standing in the open air among thorn bushes and brambles. The reign style was changed from Hsing-Pʻing to Chien-An (firm tranquillity).

The year was a year of grievous famine. The Loyang people, even reduced in numbers as they were to a few hundreds, had not enough to eat and they prowled about stripping the bark off trees and grubbing up the roots of plants to satisfy their starving hunger. Officers of the Government of all but the highest ranks went out into the country to gather fuel. Many people lay down and died quietly behind the ruined walls of their houses. At no time during the decadence of Han did misery press harder than at this period.

A poem written in pity for the sufferings of that time says:—

Mortally wounded, the serpent poured forth his life blood at Mantang; Blood-red pennons of war waved then in every quarter, Chieftain with chieftain strove and raided each other’s borders, ’Midst the turmoil and strife the Kingship even was threatened. Wickedness stalks in a country when the King is a weakling, Brigandage always is rife, when a dynasty’s failing, Had one a heart of iron, wholly devoid of feeling, Yet would one surely grieve at the sight of such desolation.

The Tai-yü Yang Piao memorialised the Throne saying, “The decree issued to me some time ago has never been acted upon. Now Tsʻao Tsʻao is very strong in Shantung and it would be well to associate him in the government that he might support the ruling house.”

The Emperor replied, “There was no need to refer to the matter again. Send a messenger when you will.”

So the decree went forth and a messenger bore it into Shantung. Now when Tsʻao had heard that the Court had returned to Loyang he called together his advisers to consult. Hsün Yü laid the matter before him and the council thus:—“Of old Duke Wen supported Prince Hsiang of the Chou dynasty and all the feudal lords backed him. The founder of the Hans won the popular favour by wearing mourning for the Emperor I (who never really sat on the throne). Now the Emperor has been a fugitive on the dusty roads. To take the lead in offering an army to restore him to honour is to have an unrivalled opportunity to win universal regard. But you must act quickly or some one will get in before you.”

Tsʻao Tsʻao understood and at once prepared his army to move. Just at this moment an imperial messenger was announced with the very command he wanted and he immediately set out.

At Loyang everything was desolate. The walls had fallen and there were no means of rebuilding them, while rumours and reports of the coming of Li and Kuo kept up a state of constant anxiety.

The frightened Emperor spoke with Yang Fêng saying, “What can be done? There is no answer from Shantung and our enemies are near.”

Then Yang Fêng and Han Hsien said, “We, your ministers, will fight to the death for you.”

Tung Chʻêng said, “The fortifications are weak and our military resources small, so that we cannot hope for victory and what does defeat mean? I see nothing better to propose than a move into Shantung.”

The Emperor agreed to this and the journey began without further preparation. There being few horses, the officers of the Court had to march afoot. Hardly a bowshot outside the gate they saw a thick cloud of dust out of which came all the clash and clamour of an advancing army. The Emperor and his Consort were dumb with fear. Then appeared a horseman; he was the messenger returning from Shantung. He rode up to the chariot, made an obeisance and said, “General Tsʻao, as commanded, is coming with all the military force of Shantung, but hearing that Li and Kuo had again approached the capital he has sent Hsiahou Tun in advance. With him are many capable leaders and five legions of proved soldiers. They will guard Your Majesty.”

All fear was swept away. Soon after Hsiahou Tun and his staff arrived and they were presented to the Emperor who graciously addressed them.

Then one came to say a large army was approaching from the east and at the Emperor’s command Hsiahou Tun went to ascertain who these were. He soon returned saying they were Tsʻao Tsʻao’s infantry.

In a short time Tsʻao Hung and his officers came to the chariot and their names having been duly communicated the chief said, “When my brother heard of the approach of the rebels he feared that the advance guard he had sent might be too weak so he sent me to march quickly and reinforce him.”

“General Tsʻao is indeed a trusty servant,” said the Emperor.

Orders were given to advance, the escort leading. By and by scouts came to say that the rebels were coming up very quickly. The Emperor bade Hsiahou Tun divide his force into two parts to oppose them, whereupon the armies threw out two wings with cavalry in front and foot behind. They attacked with vigour and beat off the rebels with great loss. Then they begged the Emperor to return to Loyang and Hsiahou Tun guarded the city.

Soon Tsʻao Tsʻao came with his great army and having got them duly camped he went into the city to audience. He knelt at the foot of the steps, but was called up hither to stand beside the Emperor and be thanked.

Tsʻao replied, “Having been the recipient of great bounty thy servant owes the State much gratitude. The measure of evil of the two rebels is full, I have a score of legions of good soldiers to oppose them and they are fully equal to securing the safety of Your Majesty and the Throne. The preservation of the state sacrifice is the matter of real moment.”

High honours were conferred on Tsʻao Tsʻao.

The two rebels wished to attack Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army while fatigued from its long march, but their adviser Chia Hsü opposed this, saying there was no hope of victory. In fact he advised submission. Li Tsʻui was angry at the suggestion, saying that the adviser wished to dishearten the army and drew his sword on Chia. But the other officers interceded and saved him. That same night Chia stole out of the camp and, quite alone, took his way home to his native village.

Soon the rebels decided to offer battle. Tsʻao sent out in reply a small company of horse with three warriors as leaders. These dashed into the rebels army but quickly retired. This manœuvre was repeated, and again repeated before the real battle array was formed. Then Li Hsien and Li Pieh, nephews of Li Tsʻui, rode out. At once from Tsʻao’s side dashed out Hsü Chʻu and cut down the former. Li Pieh was so startled that he fell out of the saddle. He too was slain. The victor rode back to his own side with the two heads. When he offered them to the chief, Tsʻao Tsʻao patted him on the back crying, “You are really my Fan Kʻuai! (Preserver).”

Next a general move forward was made, Hsiahou Tun and Tsʻao Jên leading the two wings and Tsʻao Tsʻao in the centre. They advanced to the roll of the drum. The rebels fell back before them and presently fled. They were pursued, Tsʻao himself leading, sword in hand. Many were killed and many more surrendered. The two leaders went west, flying in panic like dogs from a falling house. Having no place of refuge they took to the hills and hid among the brushwood.

The army returned and camped again near the city. Then Yang Fêng and Han Hsien said one to another, “This Tsʻao has done a great service and he will be the man in power. There will be no place for us.” So they represented to the Emperor that they wished to pursue the rebels and under this excuse withdrew and camped at Taliang.

One day the Emperor sent to summon Tsʻao Tsʻao to audience. The messenger was called in. Tsʻao noticed that he looked remarkably well and could not understand it seeing that everyone else looked hungry and famine stricken. So he said, “You look plump and well, Sir, how do you manage it?”

“Only this; I have lived maigre for thirty years.”

Tsʻao nodded. “What office do you hold?”

“I am a graduate. I had an office under Yüan Shao, but came here when the Emperor returned. Now I am one of the secretaries. I am a native of Tingtʻao called Tung Chao.”

Tsʻao got up from his place and crossed over saying, “I have heard of you. How happy I am to meet you!”

Then wine was brought into the tent and Hsün Yü was called in and introduced. While they were talking a man came in to report that a party was moving eastward. Orders were given to find out whose men these were but the visitor knew at once. “They are old leaders under the rebels, Yang Fêng and the “White Wave General” Han. They are running off because you have come, Illustrious Sir!”

“Do they mistrust me?” said Tsʻao.

“They are not worthy of your attention. They are a poor lot.”

“What of this departure of Li and Kuo?”

“Tigers without claws, birds without wings will not escape you very long. They are not worth thinking about.”

Tsʻao Tsʻao saw that he and his guest had much in common so he began to talk of affairs of State.

Said Tung Chao, “You, Illustrious Sir, with your noble army have swept away rebellion and have become the mainstay of the throne, an achievement worthy of the five chieftains. But the officials will look at it in very different ways and not all favourably to you. I think you would not be wise to remain here and I advise a change of capital to Hsütu in Honan. However, it must be remembered that the restoration of the capital has been published far and wide and the attention of all the people is concentrated on Loyang, hoping for a period of rest and tranquillity. Another move will displease many. However, the performance of extraordinary service may mean the acquisition of extraordinary merit. It is for you to decide.”

“Exactly my own inclination!” said Tsʻao Tsʻao, seizing his guest’s hand. “But are there not dangers? Yang Fêng at Taliang and the Court officials?”

“That is easily managed. Write to Yang and set his mind at rest. Say plainly that there is no food in the capital here and so you are going to another place where there is, and where there is no danger of scarcity. When the higher officials hear it they will approve.”

Tsʻao Tsʻao had now decided and as his guest took leave he seized his hands once more saying, “All my success I shall only owe to you.”

Tung Chao thanked and left. Thereafter Tsʻao and his advisers secretly discussed the change of capital.

Now as to that a certain official named Wang Li, who was a student of astrology, said to one Liu Ai, “I have been studying the stars. Since last spring Venus has been nearing the ‘Guard’ star in the neighbourhood of the ‘Measure,’ and the ‘Cowherd’ [5] crossing the River of Heaven. [6] Mars has been retrograding and came into conjunction with Venus in the Gate of Heaven, [7] so that ‘Metal’ and ‘Fire’ are mingled. Thence must emerge a new ruler. The aura of the Hans is exhausted and Chin and Wei must increase.”

A secret memorial was presented to the Emperor Hsien saying, “The Mandate of Heaven has its course and the five elements are out of proportion. ‘Earth’ is attacking ‘Fire’ and the successor to the Empire of Han is in Wei.”

Tsʻao heard of these sayings and memorials and sent a man to the astrologer to say, “Your loyalty is well known, but the ways of Heaven are past finding out. The less said the better.”

Hsün, the adviser, expounded the meaning thus: “The virtue of Han was fire; your element is earth. Hsütu is under the influence of earth and so your fortune depends on getting there. Fire can overcome earth, as earth can multiply wood. Tung Chao and the astrologer agree and you have only to bide your time.”

So Tsʻao made up his mind. Next day at Court he said, “The capital is deserted and cannot be restored nor can it be supplied easily with food. Hsütu is a noble city, standing close to a fruitful district. It is everything that a capital should be. I venture to request that the Court move thither.”

The Emperor dared not oppose and the officials were too overawed to have any independent opinion so they chose a day to set out. Tsʻao commanded the escort and the officials all followed. When they had travelled a few stages they saw before them a high mound and from behind this there arose the beating of drums. Then Yang and Han came out and barred the way. In front of all stood Hsü Huang, who shouted, “Tsʻao Tsʻao is stealing away the Emperor!”

Tsʻao rode out and took a good look at this man. He seemed a fine fellow and in his secret soul Tsʻao greatly admired him, although he was an enemy. Then he ordered Hsü Chʻu to go and fight him. The combat was axe against broadsword and the two men fought more than half a hundred bouts without advantage to either side. Tsʻao then beat the gongs and drew off his men.

In the camp a council was called. Tsʻao said, “The two rebels themselves need not be discussed; but Hsü Huang is a fine captain and I was unwilling to use any great force against him. I want to win him over to our side.”

An officer, Man Chʻung, replied, “Do not let that trouble you; I will have a word with him. I shall disguise myself as a soldier this evening and steal over to the enemy’s camp to talk to him. I shall incline his heart toward you.”

That night Man Chʻung, duly disguised, got over to the other side and made his way to the tent of Hsü Huang, who sat there by the light of a candle. He was still wearing his coat of mail. Suddenly Chʻung ran out in front and saluted saying, “You have been well since we parted, old friend?”

Hsü jumped up in surprise, gazed into the face of the speaker a long time and presently said, “What! you are Man Po-ning of Shanyang? What are you doing here?”

“I am an officer in General Tsʻao’s army. Seeing my old friend out in front of the army to-day I wanted to say a word to him. So I took the risk of stealing in this evening and here I am.”

Hsü Huang invited him in and they sat down. Then said Man Chʻung, “There are very few as bold as you on the earth; why then do you serve such as your present chiefs? My master is the most prominent man in the world, a man who delights in wise men and appreciates soldiers as every one knows. Your valour to-day won his entire admiration and so he took care that the attack was not vigorous enough to sacrifice you. Now he has sent me to invite you to join him. Will you not leave darkness for light and help him in his magnificent task?”

Hsü Huang sat a long time pondering over the offer. Then he said, with a sigh, “I know my masters are doomed to failure, but I have followed their fortunes a long time and do not like to leave them.”

“But you know the prudent bird selects its tree and the wise servant chooses his master. When one meets a worthy master and lets him go one is a fool.”

“I am willing to do what you say,” said Hsü, rising.

“Why not put these two to death as an introductory gift?” said Man.

“It is very wrong for a servant to slay his master. I will not do that.”

“True; you are really a good man.”

Then Hsü, taking only a few horsemen of his own men with him, left that night and deserted to Tsʻao Tsʻao. Soon some one took the news to Yang Fêng, who at the head of a strong company of horsemen, set out to capture the deserter. He called out to him to come back.

But when Yang was getting near he fell into an ambush. Suddenly the whole mountain-side was lit up with torches and out sprang Tsʻao’s men, he himself being in command. “I have been waiting here a long time; do not run away,” cried he.

Yang Fêng was completely surprised and tried to draw off, but was quickly surrounded. His colleague came to his rescue and a confused battle began. Yang Fêng succeeded in escaping, while Tsʻao Tsʻao kept up the attack on the disordered army. A great number of the rebels gave in and the leaders found they had too few men left to maintain their independence so they betook themselves to Yüan Shu.

When Tsʻao Tsʻao returned to camp the newly surrendered man was presented and well received. Then again the cavalcade set out for the new capital. In due time they reached it and they built palaces and halls and an ancestral temple and an altar, terraces and public offices. The walls were repaired, storehouses built and all put in order.

Then came the rewards for Tsʻao Tsʻao’s adherents. Thirteen were raised to rank of hou, or marquis. All good service was rewarded; certain others again, who deserved it, were punished, all according to Tsʻao Tsʻao’s sole decision. He himself was made a Generalissimo and Marquis of Wupʻing. The advisers became Presidents of Boards and filled such offices. Mao Chieh and Jên Hsün were put over the military stores. Tung Chao was made magistrate of Loyang and Man Chʻung of Hsütu. All good service received full recognition.

Tsʻao Tsʻao was then the one man of the Court. All memorials went first to him and were then submitted to the Throne.

When State matters were in order a great banquet was given in his private quarters to all Tsʻao’s advisers, and affairs outside the capital were the subject of discussion. Then Tsʻao Tsʻao said, “Liu Pei has his army at Hsüchou and he carries on the administration of the prefecture. Lü Pu fled to him when defeated and Pei gave him Hsiaopʻei to live in. If these two agreed to join forces and attack, my position would be most serious. What precautions can be taken?”

Then rose Hsü Chʻu, saying, “Give me five legions and I will give the Minister both their heads.”

Hsün Yü said, “O Leader, you are brave, but you are no strategist. You cannot start sudden war just as the capital has been changed. However, there is a certain ruse known as The Rival Tigers. Liu Pei has no decree authorising him to govern the district. You, Illustrious Sir, can procure one for him, and when sending it, and so conferring upon him right in addition to his might, you can enclose a private note telling him to get rid of Lü Pu. If he does, then he will have lost a vigorous warrior from his side and he could be dealt with as occasions serve. Should he fail, then Lü Pu will slay him. This is The Rival Tiger ruse; they wrangle and bite each other.”

Tsʻao agreed that this was a good plan so he memorialised for the formal appointment, which he sent to Liu Pei. Pei was created General “Conqueror of the East” and a Marquis as well. At the same time a private note was enclosed.

When Liu Pei heard of the change of capital he began to prepare a congratulatory address. In the midst of this an imperial messenger was announced and was met which all ceremony outside the gate. When the epistle had been reverently received a banquet was prepared for the messenger.

The messenger said, “This decree was obtained for you by the Minister Tsʻao.”

Yüan-tê thanked him. Then the messenger drew forth his secret letter. When he had read this Liu Pei said, “This matter can be easily arranged.”

The banquet over and the messenger conducted to his lodging to seek repose, Yüan-tê, before going to rest, called in his councillors to consider the letter.

“There need be no compunction about putting him to death,” said Chang Fei; “he is a bad man.”

“But he came to me for protection in his weakness, how can I put him to death? That would be immoral,” said Liu Pei.

“If he was a good man; it would be difficult,” replied Fei.

Liu Pei would not consent. Next day, when Lü Pu came to offer congratulations, he was received as usual. He said, “I have come to felicitate you on the receipt of the imperial bounty.”

Liu Pei thanked him in due form. But then he saw Chang Fei draw his sword and come up the hall as if to slay Lü Pu. He hastily interfered and stopped him. Lü Pu was surprised and said, “Why do you wish to slay me, I-tê?”

“Tsʻao Tsʻao says you are immoral and tells my brother to kill you,” shouted Chang Fei.

Liu Pei shouted again and again to him to go away, and he led Lü Pu into the private apartments out of the way.

Then he told him the whole story and showed him the secret letter. He wept as he finished reading.

“This is that miscreant’s scheme for sowing discord between us.”

“Be not anxious, elder brother,” said Liu Pei. “I pledge myself not to be guilty of such an infamous crime.”

Lü Pu again and again expressed his gratitude and Liu Pei kept him for a time. They remained talking and drinking wine till late.

Said the other two brothers, “Why not kill him?”

Liu Pei said, “Because Tsʻao Mêng-tê fears that Lü and I may attack him, he is trying to separate us and get us to ‘swallow’ each other, while he steps in and takes the advantage. Is there any other reason?”

Kuan nodded assent, but Chang Fei said, “I want to get him out of the way lest he trouble us later.”

“That is not what a noble man should do,” said his elder brother.

Soon the messenger was dismissed and returned to the capital with the reply from Liu Pei. The letter only said the plan would be made later. But the messenger, when he saw Tsʻao Tsʻao, told him the story of Liu Pei’s pledge to Lü Pu. Then said Tsʻao Tsʻao, “The plan has failed; what next?”

Hsün Yu replied, “I have another trick called ‘The Tiger and the Wolf’ in which the tiger is made to gobble up the wolf.”

“Let us hear it,” said Tsʻao.

“Send to Yüan Shu to say that Liu Pei has sent up a secret memorial that he wishes to subdue the southern districts. Shu will be angry and attack him. Then you will order Pei to dispose of Shu and so set them destroying each other. Lü Pu will certainly think that is his chance and turn traitor. This is The Tiger-Wolf trick.”

Tsʻao thought this good and sent the messenger and also sent a false edict to Liu Pei. When this came the messenger was received with all the ceremonies and the edict ordered the capture of Yüan Shu. After the departure of the bearer Liu called Mi Chu who pronounced it a ruse.

“It may be,” said his master, “but the royal command is not to be disobeyed.”

So the army was prepared and the day fixed. Sun Chʻien said that a trusty man must be left on guard and Pei asked which of his brothers would undertake this task.

“I will guard the city,” said Chang Fei.

“I am constantly in need of your advice so how can we part?”

“I will guard the city,” said Chang Fei.

“You will fail,” said Pei. “After one of your drinking bouts you will get savage and flog the soldiers. Beside you are rash and will not listen to any one’s advice. I shall be uneasy all the time.”

“Henceforth I drink no more wine. I will not beat the soldiers and I will always listen to advice,” said Fei.

“I fear the mouth does not correspond to the heart,” said Mi Chu.

“I have followed my elder brother these many years and never broken faith; why should you be contemptuous?” said Fei.

Yüan-tê said, “Though you say this I do not feel quite satisfied. I will order friend Yüan-lung to help you and keep you sober. Then you will not make any mistake.”

Chʻên Têng was willing to undertake this duty and the final orders were given. The army of three legions, horse and foot, left Hsüchou and marched toward Nanyang.

When Yüan Shu heard that a memorial had been presented proposing to take possession of this district he broke out into abuse of Liu Pei. “You weaver of mats! You plaiter of straw shoes! You have been smart enough to get possession of a large district and elbow your way into the ranks of the nobles. I was just going to attack you and now you dare to scheme against me! How I detest you!”

So he at once gave orders to prepare an army of ten legions, under Chi Ling, to attack Hsüchou. The armies met at Hsüi, where Liu Pei was encamped in a plain with hills behind and a stream on his flank, for his army was small.

Chi Ling, his opponent, was a native of Shantung. He used a very heavy three-edged sword. After he had made his camp he rode out and began abusing his opponents. “Liu Pei, you rustic bumpkin, how dare you invade this land?”

“I have a decree ordering me to destroy the minister who behaves improperly. If you oppose you will be assuredly punished,” replied Pei.

Chi angrily rode out brandishing his weapon. But Kuan Yü cried, “Fool, do not attempt to fight!” and rode out to meet him. Then they two fought and after thirty bouts neither had an advantage. Then Chi cried out for a rest. So Kuan turned his horse away, rode back to his own array and waited for him.

When the moment came to renew the combat Chi sent out one of his officers to take his place. But Kuan said, “Tell Chi Ling to come: I must settle with him who shall be cock and who shall be hen.”

“You are a reputationless leader and unworthy to fight with our general,” replied the officer, Hsün Chêng.

This reply angered Kuan, who made just one attack on Hsün and brought him to the ground. At this success Liu Pei urged on the army and Chi Ling’s men were defeated. They retired to the mouth of the Huaiyin River and declined all challenges.

However, many of their men came privately into Liu Pei’s camp to try to do what mischief they could and many, so found, were slain.

But the armies will be left facing each other while we relate what happened in Hsüchou.

After Liu Pei had started on his expedition Chang Fei placed his colleague and helper in charge of the administration of Hsüchou, keeping military affairs under his own supervision. After thinking over the matter for some time he gave a banquet to all the military officers and when they were all seated he made a speech. “Before my brother left he bade me keep clear of the wine cup for fear of accidents. Now, gentlemen, you may drink deep to-day but from to-morrow wine is forbidden for we must keep the city safe. So take your fill.” And with this he and all his guests rose to drink together.

The wine bearer came to one Tsʻao Pao who declined it, saying he never drank as he was forbidden of heaven.

“What! a fighting man not drink wine!” said the host. “I want you to take just one cup.”

Tsʻao Pao was afraid to offend so he drank.

Now the host drank huge goblets with all his guests on every hand and so swallowed a huge quantity of liquor. He became quite intoxicated. Yet he would drink more and insisted on a cup with every guest. It came to the turn of Tsʻao Pao who declined.

“Really, I cannot drink,” said Pao.

“You drank just now: why refuse this time?”

Chang Fei pressed him, but still Tsʻao Pao resisted. Then Fei in his drunken madness lost control of his temper and said, “If you disobey the orders of your general you shall be beaten.” And he called in his guards.

Here Chʻên Yüan-lung interfered reminding him of the strict injunctions of his brother.

“You civilians attend to your civil business and leave us alone,” said Fei.

The only way of escape for the guest was to beg remission and he did so, but added, “Sir, if you saw my son-in-law’s face you would pardon me.”

“Who is your son-in-law?”

“Lü Pu.”

“I did not mean to have you really beaten, but if you think to frighten me with Lü Pu I will. I will beat you as if I was beating him,” said Fei.

The guests interposed to beg him off, but their drunken host was obdurate and the unhappy guest received fifty blows. Then at the earnest prayers of the others the remainder of the punishment was remitted.

The banquet came to an end and the beaten man went away burning with resentment. That night he sent a letter to Hsiaopʻei relating the insults he had received from Chang Fei. The letter told Lü Pu of the prefect’s absence and proposed that a sudden raid should be made that very night before Chang Fei had recovered from his drunken fit. Lü Pu at once summoned Chʻên Kung and told him.

“This is only a place to occupy temporarily,” said Kung. “If you can seize Hsüchou, do so. It is a good chance.”

Lü Pu got ready at once and soon on the way with half a company, ordering Chʻên Kung to follow him with the main body. Kao Shun was to follow him.

Hsiaopʻei being only about forty li away, one gets there almost as soon as one is mounted and Lü Pu was under the walls at the fourth watch. It was clear moonlight. No one on the ramparts saw him. Pu came up close to the wall and called out, “Liu Pei’s secret messenger has arrived.”

The guards on the wall were Tsʻao Pao’s men and they called him. He came and when he saw who was there he ordered the gates to be opened. Lü Pu gave the secret signal and the soldiers entered shouting.

Chang Fei was in his apartment sleeping off the fumes of wine. His servants hastened to arouse him and told him an enemy had got the gates open and was in the city. Chang savagely got into his armour and laid hold of his mighty spear, but as he was mounting his horse at the gate the soldiers came up. He rushed at them but being still half intoxicated made but a poor fight. Lü Pu knowing his prowess did not press him hard and Chang Fei made his way, with a small escort, to the east gate, and there went out, leaving his brother’s family to their fate.

Tsʻao Pao, seeing Chang had but a very small force and was still half drunk as well, came in pursuit. Fei saw who it was and was mad with rage. He galloped toward him and drove him off after a few passes. He followed Pao to the moat and wounded him in the back. His frightened steed carried him into the moat and he was drowned.

Once well outside the city Chang Fei collected his men and they rode off toward the south.

Lü Pu having surprised the city set himself to restore order. He put a guard over the residence of Liu Pei so that no one should disturb the family.

Chang Fei with his few followers went to his brother’s camp and told his story of treachery and surprise. All were greatly distressed.

“Success is not worth rejoicing over; failure is not worth grieving over,” said Liu Pei with a sigh.

“Where are our sisters?” asked Kuan.

“They shared the fate of the city.”

Liu Pei nodded his head and was silent.

Kuan Yü with an effort controlled his reproaches and said, “What did you say when you promised to guard the city and what orders did our brother give you? Now the city is lost and therewith our sisters-in-law. Have you done well?”

Chang Fei was overwhelmed by remorse. He drew his sword to kill himself.

He raised the cup in pledge, None might say nay; Remorseful, drew the sword, Himself to slay.

Chang Fei’s fate will be told in the next chapter.

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Chapter XV

TʻAISHIH TZŬ FIGHTS FOR FRIENDSHIP’S SAKE: SUN PO-FU DOES BATTLE WITH YEN, THE WHITE TIGER.

In the last chapter it was recorded that Chang Fei was about to end his life with his own weapon. But his brother rushed forward and caught him in his arms, snatched away the sword and threw it on the earth saying, “Brothers are hands and feet; wives and children are as clothing. You may mend your torn dress, but who can re-attach a lost limb? We three, by the Oath of the Peach Garden, swore to seek the same death-day. The city is lost, it is true, and my wife and little ones, but I could not bear that we should die ere our course be run. Beside, the city was not really mine and Lü Pu will not harm my family but will rather seek to preserve them. You made a mistake, worthy brother, but is it one deserving of death?”

And he wept. His brothers were much affected and their tears fell in sympathy.

As soon as the news of Lü Pu’s successful seizure of his protector’s district reached Yüan Shu, he sent promises of valuable presents to Lü to induce him to join in a further attack on Liu Pei. The presents are said to have been fifty thousand measures of grain, five hundred horses, ten thousand taels of gold and silver and a thousand pieces of coloured silk. Lü Pu swallowed the bait and ordered Kao Shun to lead forth five legions. But Liu Pei heard of the threatened attack, so he made inclement weather an excuse to disband his few soldiers and left Hsüi, before the attacking force came up.

However, Kao Shun demanded the promised reward through Chi Ling, who put him off saying, “My lord has gone away, I will settle this as soon as I can see him and get his decision.”

With this answer Kao Shun returned to Lü Pu, who could not decide what to do. Then came a letter from Yüan Shu saying that although Kao Shun had gone to attack Liu Pei, yet Pei had not been destroyed and no reward could be given till he was actually taken. Lü Pu railed at what he called the breach of faith and was inclined to attack Yüan Shu himself. However, his adviser opposed this course, saying, “You should not; he is in possession of Shouchʻun and has a large army, well supplied. You are no match for him. Rather ask Liu Pei to take up his quarters at Hsiaopʻei as one of your wings and, when the time comes, let him lead the attack. Then both the Yüans will fall before you and you will be very powerful.”

Finding this advice good he sent letters to Yüan-tê asking him to return.

The story of Liu Pei’s attack on Kuangling, the attack on his camp and his losses, has been told. On his way back he met the messenger from Lü Pu, who presented the letter. Yüan-tê was quite content with the offer but his brothers were not inclined to trust Lü.

“Since he treats me kindly, I cannot but trust him,” replied Yüan-tê.

So he went back to Hsüchou. Lü Pu, fearing that Liu Pei might doubt his sincerity, restored his family and when the ladies, Kan and Mi, saw their lord they told him that they had been kindly treated and guarded by soldiers against any intrusion, and provisions had never been wanting.

“I knew he would not harm my family,” said Yüan-tê to Kuan and Chang.

However, they were not pleased and would not accompany their brother into the city when he went to express his thanks. They went to escort the two ladies to Hsiaopʻei.

At the interview Lü Pu said, “I did not wish to take the city, but your brother behaved very badly, drinking and flogging the soldiers, and I came to guard it lest some evil should befall.”

“But I had long wished to yield it to you,” said Yüan-tê.

Thereupon Lü Pu pretended to wish to retire in favour of Yüan-tê who, however, would not hear of it. He returned and took up his quarters in Hsiaopʻei, but his two brothers would not take the situation kindly and were very discontented.

Said Yüan-tê, “One must bow to one’s lot. It is the will of Heaven and one cannot struggle against fate.”

Lü Pu sent presents of food and stuffs and peace reigned between the two houses.

But there is no need to write of this. As the story runs, Yüan Shu prepared a great banquet for his soldiers on the occasion of a victory gained by Sun Tsʻê over Lu Kʻang, the Prefect of Luchiang. Yüan Shu summoned the victor, who made obeisance at the foot of the hall of audience. Shu, sitting in State, asked for details of the campaign and then invited Sun Tsʻê to the banquet.

After the unhappy death of his father Sun Tsʻê had returned to Chiangnan, where he had devoted himself to peaceful ends, inviting to his side good men and able scholars. Afterwards when a quarrel broke out between his mother’s uncle, the Prefect of Tanyang, and Tʻao Chʻien, he removed his mother with all the family to Chʻüa, he himself taking service under Yüan Shu, who admired and loved him greatly.

“If I had a son like him,” said Shu, “I should die without regret.”

He employed Sun Tsʻê as a soldier and sent him on various expeditions, all of which were successful. After this banquet to celebrate the victory over Lu Kʻang, Sun Tsʻê returned to his camp very bitter over the arrogant and patronising airs of his patron. Instead of retiring to his tent he walked up and down by the light of the moon.

“Here am I, a mere nobody and yet my father was such a hero!” And he cried out and wept in spite of himself.

Then suddenly appeared one who said, laughing loudly, “What is this, O Po-fu? While your noble father enjoyed the light of the sun he made free use of me and if his son has any difficulty to resolve why does he not refer it to me also instead of weeping here alone?”

Looking at the speaker Sun Tsʻê saw it was one Chu Chih, whose less formal name was Chün-li, a native of that district, who had been in his father’s service. Sun Tsʻê then ceased weeping and they two sat down.

“I was weeping from regret at being unable to continue my father’s work,” said he.

“Why stay here bound to the service of a master? Why not get command of an army under the pretence of an expedition to relieve Chiangtung? Then you can accomplish great things.”

While these two were talking another man suddenly entered saying, “I know what you two are planning, noble Sirs. Under my hand is a band of bold fellows ready to help Po-fu in whatever he wishes to do.”

The speaker was one of Yüan Shu’s advisers named Lü Fan. They three then sat and discussed schemes.

“The one fear is that the soldiers will be refused,” said the newcomer.

“I still have the Imperial Seal that my father left me; that should be good security.”

“Yüan Shu earnestly desires that jewel,” said Chu Chih. “He will certainly lend you men on that pledge.”

The three talked over their plans, gradually settling the details, and not many days after Sun Tsʻê obtained an interview with his patron. Assuming the appearance of deep grief he said, “I have been unable to avenge my father. Now the Prefect of Yangchow is opposing my mother’s brother and my mother and her family are in danger. Wherefore I would borrow a few companies of fighting men to rescue them. As perhaps, Illustrious Sir, you may lack confidence in me I am willing to deposit the Imperial Seal, left me by my late father, as a pledge.”

“Let me see it, if you have it,” said Shu. “I do not want the jewel really, but you may as well leave it with me. I will lend you three companies and five hundred horses. Return as soon as peace can be made. As your rank is hardly sufficient for such powers I will memorialise to obtain for you higher rank with the title of General, ‘Exterminator of Brigands,’ and you can soon start.”

Tsʻê thanked his patron most humbly and soon put the army in motion, taking with him his two new friends as well as his former captains. When he reached Liyang he saw a body of troops in front of him, at their head a dashing leader of handsome and refined mien. As soon as this man saw Sun Tsʻê he dismounted and made obeisance. It was Chou Yü.

When Sun Chien was opposing the tyrant Minister Tung Cho, the Chou family had removed to Shu, in modern Anhui, and as Chou Yü and Sun Tsʻê were of the same age all but two months, they became exceedingly good friends and sworn brothers, Tsʻê being the “elder” in virtue of his two months’ seniority. Chou Yü was on his way to visit Sun Tsʻê’s uncle, Prefect of Tanyang, when the happy meeting took place.

Naturally Sun Tsʻê confided his projects and inmost ideas to his friend, who at once promised fidelity and service. They would work out the grand design together.

“Now that you have come the design is as good as accomplished,” said Sun.

Chou Yü was introduced to Chu Chih and Lü Fan.

Chou Yü said, “Do you know of the two Changs of Chiangtung? They would be most useful men in working out your schemes.”

“Who are they, the two Changs?” said Sun.

“They are men of transcendent genius who are living near here for the sake of tranquillity in these troublous times. Their names are Chang Chao and Chang Hung. Why not invite them to help you, brother?”

Sun Tsʻê lost no time in sending letters and gifts, but they both declined. Then he visited them in person, was greatly pleased with their speech and by dint of large gifts and much persuasion, got them to promise to join him. They were given substantial offices.

The plan of the attack upon Yangchou was the next matter for discussion. The Prefect, Liu Yu, was of Tunglai, a scion of the Imperial family and brother of the governor of Yenchow. He had long ruled in Yangchou, but Yüan Shu had forced him to leave his usual abiding city and retire to Chʻüa.

Hearing of the meditated attack on him he summoned his captains to take counsel. Said Chang Ying, “I will take an army and entrench at Niuchu. No army can get past that, whatever its strength.”

He was interrupted by another who shouted, “And let me lead the van!”

All eyes turned to this man; is was Tʻaishih Tzŭ who, after raising the siege of Pohai, had come on a visit to the Prefect and stayed on.

Hearing him offer to undertake the hazardous post of van-leader Liu Yu said, “But you are still young and not yet equal to such a charge. Rather stay by my side and obey my orders.”

Tʻaishih Tzŭ withdrew in high dudgeon. Soon Chang Ying led his army to Niuchu, leaving his stores of grain at Tiko. When Sun Tsʻê approached, Chang Ying went to meet him and the two armies faced each other above Niuchutʻan, (Bullock Island Rapid). Chang Ying roundly abused his opponent and Huang Kai rode out to attack, but before the combat had proceeded far there arose an alarm of fire in Chang Ying’s camp. Chang Ying turned back and then Sun Tsʻê advanced in full force, compelling the enemy to abandon their possession. The defeated general fled to the hills.

Now the incendiaries who had brought about this result were two, named Chiang Chʻin and Chou Tʻai, both from the Kiukiang district, who in these troublous times had got together a band of kindred spirits and lived by plundering the country along the Yangtse River. They knew Sun Tsʻê by reputation as a man who treated able men very liberally and wished to join him. So they came with their band, three hundred strong, and helped him in this way as an introduction. Sun Tsʻê welcomed them and gave the leaders rank. After taking possession of the stores of all kinds abandoned by the runaways, and enlisting a large number of those who surrendered into his own ranks, he moved forward to attack Shêntʻing.

After his defeat Chang Ying returned to his master and told his misfortune. Liu Yu was going to punish his failure by death, but listened to his advisers, who asked for mercy for the unfortunate man, and sent him to command the garrison in Lingling. He himself set out to meet the invaders. He camped under the hills at Lingnan. Sun Tsʻê camped on the opposite side of the hills.

Sun Tsʻê enquired if there was a temple to Kuang-Wu, of the Hans, in the vicinity, and was told there was a temple on the summit of the hills.

“I dreamed last night that he called me so I will go and pray there,” said Tsʻê.

He was advised not to go as the enemy was on the other side and he might fall into an ambush.

“The spirit will help me; what need I fear?”

So he put on his armour, took his spear and mounted, taking with him twelve of his officers as an escort. They rode up the hills, dismounted, burned incense and they all bowed in the shrine. Then Tsʻê knelt and made a vow saying, “If I, Sun Tsʻê, succeed in my task and restore the authority of my late father then will I restore this temple and order sacrifices at the four seasons.”

When they had remounted he said, “I am going to ride along the ridge and reconnoitre the enemy’s position.”

His followers begged him to refrain but he was obstinate and they rode away together, noting the villages below. A soldier going along a bye-road quickly reported the presence of horsemen on the ridge and Liu Yu said, “It is certainly Sun Tsʻê trying to inveigle us to battle. But do not go out.”

Tʻaishih Tzŭ, the bold, jumped up saying, “What better chance to capture him?”

So, without orders he armed himself and rode through the camp crying, “If there be any valiant men among you follow me!”

No one moved save a subaltern who said, “He is a valiant man and I will go with him.” So he also went. The others only laughed at the pair.

Now having seen all he wished Sun Tsʻê thought it time to return and wheeled round his horse. But when he was going over the summit some one shouted, “Stay, Sun Tsʻê!”

He turned; two horsemen were coming at full speed down the next hill. He halted and drew up his little escort right and left, he himself with his spear ready.

“Which is Sun Tsʻê?” shouted Tʻaishih.

“Who are you?” was the reply.

“I am Tʻaishih Tzŭ, of Tunglai, come to take him prisoner.”

“Then I am he,” said Sun Tsʻê laughing. “Come both of you together; I am not afraid of you. If I was, I should not be Po-fu.”

“You and all your crowd come on and I will not blench,” cried Tʻaishih putting his horse at a gallop and setting his spear.

Sun braced himself for the shock and the battle began. Fifty bouts were fought and still neither combatant had the advantage. Sun Tsʻê’s followers whispered to each other their admiration and amazement. Tʻaishih saw that the spearmanship of his opponent showed no weak point whereby he could gain the advantage so he decided to resort to guile. Feigning defeat he would lead Sun to pursue. Tʻaishih however did not retire along the road by which he had come, but took a path leading around the hill instead of over it. His antagonist followed, shouting, “He who retreats is no worthy son of Han!”

But Tʻaishih thought within himself, “He has twelve others at his back and I only one. If I capture him, the others will retake him. I will inveigle him into some secret spot and then try.” So flying and fighting by turns he led Sun Tsʻê, an eager pursuer, down to the plain.

Here Tʻaishih suddenly wheeled about and attacked. Again they exchanged half a hundred bouts, without result. Then Sun made a fierce thrust which his opponent evaded by gripping the spear under his oxter, while Tʻaishih did the same with his opponent’s spear. Neither was wounded but each exerting his utmost strength to pull the other out of the saddle they both came to the ground.

Their steeds galloped off they knew not whither while the two men, each dropping his spear, began a hand to hand struggle. Soon their fighting robes were in tatters. Sun gripped the short lance that Tʻaishih carried at his back, while Tʻaishih tore off the other’s helmet. Sun tried to stab with the short lance but Tʻaishih fended off the blow with the helmet as a shield.

Then arose a great shouting. Liu Yu had come up with a company of soldiers. Sun seemed now in sore straits. His twelve followers came up and each combatant let go his hold. Tʻaishih quickly found another steed, seized a spear and mounted. Sun Tsʻê, whose charger had been caught by Chʻêng Pʻu, also mounted, and a confused battle began between the handful of men on one side and a whole company on the other. It swayed and drifted down the hill side. However, soon Chou Yü came to the rescue, and as evening drew on a tempest put an end to the fight. Both sides drew off and returned to camp.

Next day Sun Tsʻê led his army to the front of Liu Yu’s camp and the challenge was accepted. The armies were drawn up. Sun hung the short lance he had seized from Tʻaishih Tzŭ at the end of his spear and waved it in front of the line of battle and ordered his soldiers to shout, “If the owner of this had not fled he would have been stabbed to death.”

On the other side they hung out Sun’s helmet and the soldiers shouted back “Sun Tsʻê’s head is here already.”

Both sides thus yelled defiance at each other, one side boasting, the other bragging. Then Tʻaishih rode out challenging Sun to a duel to the death and Sun would have accepted, but Chʻêng Pʻu said, “My lord should not trouble himself, I will take him,” and he rode forth.

“You are no antagonist for me,” said Tʻaishih. “Tell your master to come out.”

This incensed Chʻêng, who rode at his opponent, and they two fought many bouts. The duel was stopped by the gongs of Liu Yu.

“Why did you sound the retreat?” said Tʻaishih. “I was just going to capture the wretch.”

“Because I have just heard that Chʻüa is threatened. Chou Yü is leading a force thither and a certain Chʻên Wu is in league with him to betray the city. The loss would be irremediable. I will hasten to Moling to get the help of Hsüeh Li and Chai Jung.”

The army retired, Tʻaishih Tzŭ with it, without being pursued. On the other side Chang Chao said to Sun Tsʻê, “Chou Yü’s threatened attack is the cause of this move; they are in no mood to fight. A night raid on their camp would finish them.”

The army was divided into five divisions for the night surprise and hastened toward the camp where they were victorious. Their opponents scattered in all directions. Tʻaishih alone made a determined stand and as he could not withstand a whole army he fled with a few followers to Chinghsien.

Now Sun Tsʻê acquired a new adherent in the person of Chʻên Wu. He was a soldier of middle height, sallow of complexion and dark eye, an odd looking man. But Sun held him in high esteem, gave him rank and put him in the van for the attack on Hsüeh Li. As van-leader he and half a score horsemen made a dash into the enemy’s formation, where they slew half a hundred men. So Hsüeh Li would not fight but remained within his defences. As Sun was attacking the city a spy came in with the news that Liu Yu and Chai Jung had gone to attack Niuchu, which made Sun move thither in haste. His two opponents were ready for battle.

“I am here,” said Sun Tsʻê, “you had better give in.”

A horseman came out from behind the two leaders to accept the challenge. It was Yü Mi. But in the third bout Sun Tsʻê made him prisoner and carried him off to the other side.

Seeing his colleague thus captured Fan Nêng rode out to the rescue and got quite close. But just as he was going to thrust, all the soldiers shouted “There is a man behind you going to strike secretly!” At this Sun Tsʻê turned and shouted so thunderously loud that Fan Nêng fell out of his saddle from mere fright. He split his skull and died. When Sun Tsʻê reached his standard he threw his prisoner to the ground. And he was also dead, crushed to death between the arm and the body of his captor. So in a few moments Sun Tsʻê had disposed of two enemies, one crushed to death and one frightened to death. Thereafter Sun Tsʻê was called the Little Prince.

After Liu Yu’s defeat the greater portion of his force surrendered and the number of those put to death exceeded ten thousand. Liu Yu himself sought safety with Liu Piao.

An attack on Moling was the next move. As soon as Sun Tsʻê arrived at the moat he summoned the commander, Hsüeh Li, to surrender. Some one let fly a furtive arrow from the wall which wounded Sun in the left thigh so severely that he fell from his steed. Hastily his officers picked up their wounded chief and returned to the camp where the arrow was pulled out and the wound dressed with the medicines suitable for injuries by metals.

By Sun Tsʻê’s command the story was spread abroad that the hurt had been fatal and all the soldiers set up cries of lamentation. The camp was broken up. The defender of the city made a night sortie, but fell into a carefully prepared ambush and presently Sun himself appeared on horseback shouting “Sun Tsʻê is here still.”

His sudden appearance created such a panic that the soldiers dropped their weapons and fell on their faces. Sun gave orders not to kill them but their leaders fell, one from a spear thrust as he turned to run away, another wounded by an arrow, and the commander in chief was slain in the first rush. Thus Sun Tsʻê got possession of Moling. Having calmed the people he sent his soldiers away to Chinghsien, where Tʻaishih Tzŭ was in command.

Tʻaishih Tzŭ had assembled two companies of veterans in addition to his own troop for the purpose of avenging his master. Sun Tsʻê and Chou Yü on the other hand consulted how to capture him alive. The latter’s plan was to attack the city on three sides, leaving the east gate free for flight. Some distance off an ambush would be prepared, when their victim, his men fatigued and horses spent, would fall an easy victim.

The latest recruits under Tʻaishih Tzŭ’s banner were mostly hillmen and unaccustomed to discipline. Beside the walls of the city were pitiably low. One night Sun ordered one Chʻên Wu to strip off his long dress, leave his arms save a dagger, clamber up the ramparts and set fire to the city. Seeing the flames spreading the commander made for the east gate and, as soon as he got outside, Sun Tsʻê followed in pursuit. The pursuit was maintained for some thirty li when the pursuers stopped. Tʻaishih Tzŭ went on as long as possible, finally halting to rest in a spot surrounded by reeds. Suddenly a tremendous shouting arose. Tʻaishih was just starting when tripping ropes arose all round, his horse was thrown and he found himself a prisoner.

He was taken to camp. As soon as Sun Tsʻê heard the news he himself rode out to meet the successful man and ordered the guards to leave the prisoner, whose bonds he loosened with his own hands. Then he took off his own embroidered robe and put it on the captive. They entered the camp together.

“I knew you were a real hero,” said Sun. “That worm of a Liu Yu had no use for such as you and so he got beaten.”

The prisoner, overcome by this kindness and good treatment, then formally surrendered.

Sun Tsʻê seized his hand and said, laughing, “If you had taken me at that fight we had near the shrine, would you have killed me?”

“Who can say?” said Tʻaishih smiling.

Sun Tsʻê laughed also and they entered his tent, where the captive leader was placed in the seat of honour at a banquet.

Tʻaishih said, “Can you trust me so far as to let me go to muster as many as I can of the soldiers of my late master? Under the smart of this defeat they will turn against him and they would be a great help to you.”

“Exactly what I most desire. I will make an agreement with you that at midday to-morrow you will return.”

Tʻaishih agreed and went off. All the captains said he would never return.

“He is trustworthy and will not break his word,” said the chief.

None of the officers believed he would come back. But the next day they set up a bamboo rod in the gate of the camp and just as the shadow marked noon Tʻaishih Tzŭ returned, bringing with him about a thousand men. Sun Tsʻê was pleased and his officers had to confess that he had rightly judged his man.

Sun Tsʻê had now several legions and Chiangtung was his. He improved the conditions of the people and maintained order so that his adherents and supporters daily increased. He was called Sun Lang (the Bright One). When his army approached the people used to flee in terror, but when it had arrived and they saw that no one was permitted to loot and not the least attempt was made on their houses, they rejoiced and presented the soldiers with oxen and wine, for which they were in turn duly rewarded. Gladness filled the country side. The soldiers who had followed Liu Yu were kindly treated. Those who wished to join Sun’s army did so; those who preferred not to be soldiers were sent home with presents. And thus Sun Tsʻê won the respect and praise of every one in Kiangnan and became very powerful.

Sun Tsʻê then settled his mother and the remainder of the family in Chʻüa, setting his brother Chʻüan and Chou Tʻai over the city.

Then he headed an expedition to the south to reduce the Wu districts. At that time there was a certain Yen Pai-hu, or the White Tiger, who styled himself Prince Tê of Eastern Wu and ruled over the Wu districts. Hearing of Sun Tsʻê’s approach, the “Prince” sent his brother Yen Yü with an army against him and they met at Fêngchʻiao.

Yen Yü, sword in hand, took his stand on a bridge and this was reported to Sun Tsʻê, who prepared to accept the challenge. Chang Hung tried to dissuade him saying, “Forasmuch as my lord’s fate is bound up with that of the army, he should not risk a conflict with a mere robber. I would that you should remember your own value.”

“Your words, O Elder One, are as gold and precious stones, but I fear that my soldiers will not carry out my commands unless I myself share their dangers.”

Then he sent forth Han Tang to take up the challenge. Just as he reached the bridge, Chiang Chʻin and Chʻên Wu, who had dropped down the river in a small boat, passed under the bridge. Though the arrows fell in clouds on the bank, the two men rushed up and fiercely attacked Yen Yü as he stood on the bridge. He fled and Han Tang went in pursuit smiting up to the gate of the city into which he entered.

Sun Tsʻê laid siege to Soochow both by land and water. For three days no one came out to offer battle. Then at the head of his army he came to the Chʻang Gate and summoned the warden. An officer of inconsiderable rank came out and stood with one hand resting on a beam while with the other he gave point to his abuse of those below. Quickly Tʻaishih Tzŭ’s hands sought his bow and an arrow was on the string.

“See me hit that fellow’s hand,” said he, turning to his companions.

Even as the sound of his voice died away, the bowstring twanged, the arrow sped and lodged in the beam, firmly pinning thereto the officer’s hand. Both sides, those on the wall and those below it, marvelled at such marksmanship.

The wounded man was taken away and when the White Tiger heard of the exploit he said, “How can we hope to withstand an army with such men as this in it?”

And his thoughts turned toward a peace. He sent his brother Yü out to see Sun Tsʻê, who received him civilly, invited him into the tent and set wine before him.

“And what does your brother propose?” said Sun.

“He is willing to share this district with you,” was the reply.

“The rat! how dare he put himself on a level with me?” cried Sun.

He commanded to put the messenger to death. Yü started up and drew his sword, but out flew Sun Tsʻê’s blade and the unhappy messenger fell to the ground. His head was hacked off and sent into the city to his brother.

This had its effect. The White Tiger saw resistance was hopeless, so he abandoned the city and fled. Sun Tsʻê pressed the attack. Huang Kai captured Chiahsing (Kashing) and Tʻaishih Tzŭ took Wuchʻêng. The district was quickly subdued. The White Tiger rushed off toward Hangchow in the east, plundering on all sides, till a band of villagers under the leadership of one Ling Tsʻao checked his career of robbery there. He then went toward Kueichi.

The Lings, father and son, then went to meet Sun Tsʻê, who took them into his service as a reward for their service and the joint forces crossed the river.

The White Tiger gathered his scattered forces and took up a position at the western ford, but Chʻêng Pʻu attacked him there and scattered the defenders, chasing them as far as Huichi. The Prefect of the place, Wang Lang, was on their side and inclined to support them actively. But, when he proposed this, one of his men stood forth saying, “No! No! Sun Tsʻê as a leader is humane and upright, while the White Tiger is a savage ruffian. Rather capture him and offer his person as a peace offering to Sun Tsʻê.”

The Prefect turned angrily toward the speaker, who was an official named Yü Fan, and bade him be silent. He withdrew sighing deeply. And the Prefect went to the help of the White Tiger with whom he joined forces at Shanyin.

Sun Tsʻê came up. When both sides were arrayed Sun Tsʻê rode out and addressed Wang Lang, saying, “Mine is an army of good men and my aim is to restore peace to Chekiang, but you give your support to a rebel!”

Wang Lang replied, “Your greed is insatiable. Having got possession of Wu you want also my district, and so as an excuse you have vengeance to wreak on the Yens.”

This response greatly angered Sun Tsʻê. Just as battle was to be joined Tʻaishih Tzŭ advanced and Wang Lang came toward him waving his sword. Before they had exchanged many passes Chou Hsin dashed out to help Wang. Thereupon Huang Kai rode out to make the sides more equal. These latter two were just engaging when the drums rolled on both sides and a general battle began.

Suddenly confusion was caused in the rear of Wang’s army by the sudden onslaught of a small troop. Wang Lang galloped off to see to it. Then an attack was made on his flank, so that he was in a hopeless position, and he and the White Tiger, fighting desperately, only just managed to reach the shelter of the city. The drawbridges were raised, the gates closed and preparations made to sustain a siege.

Sun Tsʻê followed right up to the walls and then divided his men so as to attack all four gates. Seeing that the city was being fiercely attacked Wang Lang was for making a sortie, but the White Tiger opposed this as hopeless against so strong a force outside. They could only strengthen their position and remain behind the shelter of the ramparts until hunger forced the besiegers to retire. Wang Lang agreed and the siege went on.

For several days a vigorous attack was maintained, but with little success. Taking counsel with his officers Sun Ching, who was the uncle of Sun Tsʻê, said, “Since they are holding the city with such resolution it will be difficult to dislodge them. But the bulk of their supplies is stored at Chʻatu, distant only some score li. Our best plan is to seize this place, thus attacking where the enemy is unprepared, and doing what they do not expect.”

Sun Tsʻê approved saying, “My uncle’s plan is admirable and will crush the rebels.” So he issued orders to kindle watch fires at all the gates, and leave the flags standing to maintain the appearance of soldiers in position while the expedition went south.

Chou Yü came to utter a warning, “When you, my lord, go away the besieged will surely come out and follow you. We might prepare a surprise for them.”

Sun Tsʻê replied, “My preparations are complete and the city will be captured to-night.”

So the army set out.

Wang Lang heard that the besiegers had gone and he went up to the tower to reconnoitre. He saw the fires blazing, the smoke rising, and the pennons fluttering in the breeze as usual and hesitated.

Chou Hsin said, “He has gone and this is only a stratagem. Let us go out and smite them.”

The White Tiger said, “If he has gone, it is to attack Chʻatu. Let us pursue.”

“The place is our base of supply,” said Wang Lang, “and must be defended. You lead the way and I will follow with reserves.”

So the White Tiger and Chou Hsin went forth with five companies and drew near their enemy about the first watch, at twenty li from the city. The road led through dense forest. Then suddenly the drums beat and lighted torches sprang up on all sides. The White Tiger was frightened, turned his horse and started to retreat. At once a leader appeared in front in whom, by the glare of the torches, he recognised Sun Tsʻê. Chou Hsin made a rush at him but fell under Sun Tsʻê’s spear. The men surrendered. However, the White Tiger managed to cut his way out.

Wang Lang soon heard of the loss and not daring to return to the city retreated in all haste to Haiyü. And so Sun Tsʻê got possession of the city.

Having restored order, a few days later a man came bringing the head of the White Tiger as an offering to Sun Tsʻê. This man was a native of the district. He was of medium height, with a square face and wide mouth. He was named Tung Hsi, and was given an office. After this peace reigned in all the east and, having placed his uncle in command of the city and made Chu Chih Prefect, Sun Tsʻê returned to his own place.

While Sun Tsʻê was absent a band of brigands suddenly attacked Hsüanchʻêng, left in the care of his brother Chʻüan and the leader Chou Tʻai. As the onslaught was made on all sides at once, and in the night, the brigands got the upper hand. Chou Tʻai took the youth in his arms and mounted a horse, but as the robbers came on with swords to attack him he dismounted, and though without mail, met the robbers on foot and slew them as they came up. Then came a horseman armed with a spear, but Chou Tʻai laid hold of his spear and pulled him to the earth. Then he mounted the robber’s horse and thrusting this way and that with the spear fought his way out. So Sun Chʻüan was preserved, but his saviour had received more than a dozen wounds.

These wounds being due to metal would not heal but swelled enormously, and the brave soldier’s life hung in the balance. Sun Tsʻê was deeply grieved. Then Tung Hsi said, “Once in an engagement with some pirates I received many spear wounds, but a certain wise man named Yü Fan recommended a surgeon who cured me in half a month.”

“Surely this must be Yü Chung-hsiang,” replied Sun Tsʻê.

“That is he; he is so called.”

“Yes, truly a wise man; I will employ him.”

So Sun Tsʻê sent two officers to invite him and he came at once. He was treated in most friendly fashion and appointed an official forthwith. Then the question of treating the wounded man was brought up.

“The surgeon is one Hua Tʻo, who has perfectly marvellous skill in the leech’s art. I will get him to come,” said Yü Fan.

Shortly the famous leech arrived, a man with the complexion of a youth and a snowy beard. He looked more like a saint who had passed the gates of this life. He was treated very handsomely and taken to see the sick soldier’s wounds.

“The case is not difficult,” said the surgeon and he prepared certain drugs that healed the wounds within a month. Sun Tsʻê suitably acknowledged his care and skill and he was allowed to leave.

Next Sun Tsʻê attacked the brigands and destroyed them, so restoring complete tranquillity to Chiangnan. After this he set garrisons at all the strategical points, and this done, memorialised what he had achieved. He came to an understanding with Tsʻao Tsʻao and sent letters to Yüan Shu demanding the return of the Seal he had left in pledge.

But Yüan Shu, secretly cherishing the most ambitious designs, wrote excuses and did not return the State jewel. In his own place he hastily summoned his officers to a council and said, “Sun Tsʻê borrowed an army from me and set out on an expedition which has made him master of Chiangtung. Now he says nothing of repayment but demands the token of his pledge. Truly he is a boor and what steps can I take to destroy him?”

The Recorder, Yang Ta-chiang, replied, “You cannot do any thing against him for he is too strongly placed. You must first remove Liu Pei in revenge for having attacked you without cause, and then you may think about Sun Tsʻê. I have a scheme to put the former into your hands in a very short time.”

He went not to destroy the tiger, but instead Against a dragon forth his army led.

The means he employed will be made plain in the next chapter.

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