# San Kuo/Volume 1/Chapter 21

CHAPTER XXI.
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao Discusses Heroes: Kuan Yu Slays Ch‘e Chou.
“Who is it?" was the question on the lips of the conspirators.
Ma T‘êng’s reply was, “The Governor of Yüchow, Liu Pei. He is here and we will ask him to help.”
“Though he is an uncle of the Empreor, he is at present a partizan of our enemy, and he will not join.”
“But I saw something at the hunt,” said Ma T‘êng. “When Tsʻao Tsʻao advanced to acknowledge the congratulations due to the Emperor, Yüan-tê’s sworn brother Kuan Yü was behind him, and grasped his sword as if to cut down Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. However, Yüan-tê signed to him to hold his hand and he did. He would willingly destroy Ts‘ao, only he thinks his teeth and claws are too many. You must ask him and he will surely consent.”
Here Wu Shih urged caution. “Do not go too fast,” said he. “Let us consider the thing most carefully.”
They dispersed. Next day after dark Tung Ch‘êng went to Liu Pei’s lodging taking with him the decree. As soon as he was announced Yüan-tê came to greet him and led him into a private room where they could talk freely. The two younger brothers were there as well.
“It must be something unusually important that has brought you here to-night,” said Pei.
“If I had ridden forth by daylight, Ts‘ao might have suspected something so I came by night.”
Wine was brought in and while they were drinking Tung Ch‘êng said, “Why did you check your brother the other day at the hunt when he was going to attack Ts‘ao Ts‘ao?”
Yüan-tê was startled and said, “How did you know?”
“Nobody noticed but I saw.”
Yüan-tê could not prevaricate and said, “It was the presumption of the man that made my brother so angry; he could not help it.”
The visitor covered his face and wept. “Ah,” said he, “if all the Court Ministers were like him, there would be no sighs for lack of tranquillity.”
Now Yüan-tê felt that possibly Ts‘ao Tsʻao had sent his visitor to try him, so he cautiously replied, “Where are the sighs for lack of tranquillity while Ts‘ao Ts‘ao is at the head of affairs?”
​Tung Ch‘êng changed colour and rose from his seat. “You, Sir, are a relative of His Majesty and so I showed you my inmost feelings. Why did you mislead me?”
“Because I feared you might be misleading me, and I wanted to find out.”
At this Tung Ch‘êng drew out the decree he had received and showed it. His host was deeply moved. Then he produced the pledge. There were only six names to it and these were Tung Ch‘êng, Wang Tzŭ-fu, Ch‘ung Chi, Wu Shih, Wu Tzŭ-lan and Ma T‘êng.
“Since you have a decree like this, I cannot but do my share,” said Liu Pei and at Tung Ch‘êng’s request he added his name and signature to the others and handed it back.
“Now let us but get three more, which will make ten, and we shall be ready to act.”
“But you must move with great caution and not let this get abroad,” said Yüan-tê.
The two remained talking till an early hour in the morning when the visitor left.
Now in order to put Tsʻao Ts‘ao quite off the scent that any plot against him was in progress, Liu Pei began to devote himself to gardening, planting vegetables and watering them with his own hands. His brothers ventured to remonstrate with him for taking to such an occupation when great matters needed attention.
“The reason for this you may not know,” replied he. And they said no more.
One day when the two brothers were absent and Yüan-tê was busy in his garden, two messengers with an escort came from Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, saying, “The command of the Minister is that you come at once.”
“What important affair is afoot?” asked he nervously.
“We know nothing: we were ordered to come and request your presence.”
All he could do was to follow. When he arrived Ts‘ao met him and laughingly said, “That is a big business you have in hand at home.”
This remark made Liu Pei turn the colour of clay. But Ts‘ao took him by the hand and led him straight to the private garden, saying, “The growth of vegetables that you are trying to learn is very difficult.”
Yüan-tê breathed again. He said, “That is hardly a business it is only a solace.”
Ts‘ao said, “I happened to notice the green plums on the trees to-day and suddenly my thoughts went back to a year ago when we were thrashing Chang Hsiu. We were marching through a parched district and every one was suffering from thirst. Suddenly I lifted my whip and pointing at something in the distance I said, “Look at those plum trees.” The soldiers ​heard it and it made their mouths water. Now I owe something to the plums and we will pay it to-day. I ordered the servants to heat some wine very hot and sent to invite you to share it.”
Yüan-tê was quite composed by this time and no longer suspected any sinister design. He went with his host to a small summer house, where the wine cups were already laid out and green plums filled the dishes. After a goblet of wine had been swallowed they sat down to a confidential talk and enjoyment of their wine.
As they drank the weather gradually changed, clouds gathering and threatening rain. The servants pointed out a mass of cloud that looked like a dragon hung in the sky. Both host and guest went to the window and leaned over the rail looking at it.
“Do you understand the evolutions of dragons?” asked Ts‘ao of the guest.
“Not in detail.”
“A dragon can assume any size, can rise in glory or hide from sight. Bulky, it generates clouds and evolves mist; attenuated, it can scarcely hide a mustard stalk or conceal a shadow. Mounting, it can soar to the empyrean; subsiding, it lurks in the uttermost depths of the ocean. This is the mid-spring season and the dragon chooses this moment for his transformations, like a man realising his desires and overrunning the world. The dragon among animals compares with the hero among men. You, O Yüan-tê, with your experience must know who are the heroes of the present day and I wish you would say who they are.”
“How can a dullard like me know such things?”
“Do not be so modest.”
“Thanks to your kindly protection I have a post at Court. But as to heroes I really do not know who they are.”
“You may not have looked upon their faces, but you have heard their names.”
“Yüan Shu, with his resources; is he one?”
His host laughed, “A rotting bone in a graveyard. I shall put him out of the way shortly.”
“Well, Yüan Shao then. The highest offices of State have been held in his family for four generations and his clients are many. He is firmly posted in Ichou and he commands the services of many able men. Surely he is one.”
“A bully, but a coward; he is fond of grandiose schemes, but is devoid of decision; he makes for great things but grudges the necessary toil. He loses sight of everything else in view of a little present advantage. He is not one.”
“There is Liu Ching-shêng. He is renowned as a man of perfection, whose fame has spread on all sides. Surely he is a hero.”
​“He is a mere semblance, a man of vain reputation. No; not he.”
“Sun Ts‘ê is a sturdy sort, the chief of all in the east. Is he a hero?”
“He has profited by his father’s reputation; he is no hero.”
“What of Liu Chang?”
“Though he is of the reigning family, he is nothing more than a watch dog. How could you make a hero of him?”
“What about Chang Hsiu, Chang Lu, Han Sui and all those?”
Ts‘ao clapped his hands and laughed very loudly. “Paltry people like them are not worth mentioning.”
“With these exceptions I really know none.”
“Now heroes are men who cherish lofty designs in their bosoms and have plans to achieve them; they have all-eMbracing schemes and the whole world is at their mercy.”
“Who is such a man?” said Yüan-tê.
Ts‘ao pointed his finger first at his guest and then at himself, saying, “The only heroes in the world are you and I.”
Yüan-tê gasped and the spoon and chopsticks rattled to the flooor. Now just at that moment the storm burst with a tremendous peal of thunder and rush of rain. Yüan-tê stooped down to recover the fallen articles, saying, “What a shock! and it was quite close.”
“What! are you afraid of thunder?” said Ts‘ao.
Yüan-tê replied, “The wise man paled at a sudden peal of thunder or fierce gust of wind. Why should one not fear?”
Thus he glossed over the real fact, that it was the words he had heard that had so startled him.
Constrained to lodge in a tiger’s lair, He played a waiting part, But when Ts‘ao talked of breaking men, Then terror gripped his heart. But he cleverly used the thunder peal As excuse for turning pale; O quick to seize occasions thus! He surely must prevail.
The shower had passed and there appeared two men rushing through the garden, both armed. In spite of the attendants they forced their way to the pavilion where sat the two friends. They were Kuan Yü and Chang Fei.
The two brothers had been outside the city at archery practice when Ts‘ao Ts‘ao’s invitation had come so peremptorily. On their return they heard that two officers had arrived and led away Yüan-tê to the Minister. They hastened to his palace and were told their brother was with his host in the grounds and they feared something had happened. So they rushed in. Now when they saw their brother quietly talking with Ts‘ao and enjoying a cup of wine, they took up their usual places and meekly stood waiting.
​“Why did you come?” said Ts‘ao Ts‘ao.
“We heard that you, Sir, had invited our brother to a wine party and we came to amuse you with a little sword play,” said they.
“This is not a Hungmên banquet,” replied Ts‘ao. “What use have we for two Hsiangs?”
Yüan-tê smiled. The host ordered wine to be served to the two “Fan K‘uai” to allay their excitement and, soon after, the three took their leave and returned homeward.
“We were nearly frightened to death,” said Kuan Yü.
The story of the dropped chopsticks was told. The two asked what their brother intended by his actions and he told them that his learning gardening was to convince Tsʻao Ts‘ao of his perfect simplicity and the absence of any ambition. “But,” said he, “when he suddenly pointed to me as one of the heroes I was startled, for I thought he had some suspicions. Happily the thunder at that moment supplied the excuse I wanted.”
“Really you are very clever,” said they.
Next day Ts‘ao again invited Yüan-tê and while the two were drinking, Man Ch‘ung, who had been despatched to find out what Yüan Shao was doing, came to present his report.
He said, “Kungsun Tsan has been completely defeated by Yüan.”
“Do you know the details? I should like to know how,” interrupted Liu Pei.
“They were at war and Tsan got the worst of it, so he acted on the defensive, building a high wall about his army and on that erecting a high tower, which he called the I-ching Tower. Therein he placed all his grain and took up his own quarters. His fighting men passed in and out without ceasing, some going out to give battle, others returning to rest. One of them was surrounded and sent to ask Kungsun to rescue him. Kungsun said, “If I rescue him, hereafter every one will want to be helped and will not exert himself.” So he did not go. This disgusted his men and many deserted to the enemy so that his army diminished. He sent letters to the capital to crave help, but the messenger was captured. He sent to Chang Yen to arrange with him for a joint attack and those letters with the plans also fell into Shao’s hands and the plans were adopted by his enemy, who gave the signals agreed upon. Thus Tsan fell into an ambush, lost heavily and retreated into the city. There he was besieged and a subterranean passage was pierced into the tower where he lodged. The tower was set on fire and Kungsun could not escape. So he slew his wife and little ones and committed suicide. The flames destroyed the bodies of the whole family.
“Yüan Shao has added the remnants of the vanquished army to his own and so become yet stronger. His brother Yüan Shu ​in Honan, however, has become so arrogant and cruel that the people have turned against him. Then he had sent to say he would yield the title of Emperor, which he had assumed, in favour of his brother. His brother Shao demanded the seal also and Yüan Shu promised to bring it in person. Now he has abandoned Huainan and is about to occupy Hopei. If he succeeded, the two brothers will control adjoining districts and be dangerous.”
It was a sad story and Yüan-tê remembered with sorrow that, in the days of success and prosperity, the dead chieftain had pushed his interest and shown him much kindness. Moreover he was anxious to know the fate of Chao Tzŭ-lung.
In his heart he thought, “What better chance am I likely to get of setting myself free?”
So he rose and said to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, “If Yüan Shu goes over to join his brother he will surely pass through Hsüchou. I beg you to give me an army with which to smite him on the way. That will finish Yüan Shu.”
“Memorialise the Emperor to-morrow and I will give you an army,” said Ts‘ao.
So next day Yüan-tê went to an audience and Ts‘ao gave him command of five legions, horse and foot, and sent Chu Ling and Lu Chao with him.
At parting with Liu Pei the Emperor shed tears. As soon as he reached his lodging he set about preparations for immediate departure, returning his seal as General and preparing his weapons. Tung Ch‘êng went out some distance on the road to bid him farewell.
“You must not mind my going; this journey will assuredly help on the scheme,” said Liu Pei.
“Keep your mind fixed on that,” said Tung, “and never forget what His Majesty requires of us.”
They parted. Presently his brothers asked him why he was in such a hurry to get away.
He replied, “I have been a bird in a cage, a fish in a net. This is like the fish regaining the open sea and the bird soaring into the blue sky. I suffered much from the confinement.”
Now Kuo Chia and Ch‘êng Yü had been absent inspecting stores and supplies when Liu Pei left. As soon as they heard of his expedition they went in to see their master, asking him why he had let Liu Pei go in command of an army.
“He is going to cut off Yüan Shu.”
“Formerly, when he was governor of Yüchou, we recommended that he should be put to death but you would not hear of it. Now you have given him an army. You have allowed the dragon to reach the sea, the tiger to return to the mountains. What control will you have in future?”
So spoke Ch‘êng Yü and Kuo Chia followed in the same strain.
​“Even if you would not put him to death you need not have let him go. As the proverb says, ‘Relax opposition for one day and age-long harm ensues.’ You must admit the truth of this.”
Ts‘ao recognised that these were prudent counsels so he sent Hsü Ch‘u with a half company and imperative orders to bring Yüan-tê back again.
Liu Pei was marching as rapidly as possible when he noticed a cloud of dust in the rear and remarked to his brothers, “Surely they are pursuing us.”
He halted and made a stockade and ordered his brothers to be in readiness, one on each flank. Presently the messenger arrived and found himself in the midst of an army ready for battle. He dismounted and entered the camp to speak with Yüan-tê.
“Sir, on what business have you come?” asked Pei.
“The Minister has sent me to request you to return as he has further matters to discuss with you.”
“When a general has once taken the field even the royal command is of no effect. I bade farewell to the Emperor, I received the Minister’s commands and there can be nothing further to talk about. You may return forthwith and take that as my reply.”
The messenger was undecided what action to take. He knew of the friendship that existed between the Minister and his late guest and he had no orders to kill. He could only return with this reply and ask further instructions. So he left. When he related what had occurred Ts‘ao still hesitated to take any action. His advisers urged upon him that this refusal to return meant enmity.
“Still, two of my men are with him,” said Ts‘ao. “He will not dare do anything unfriendly, I think. Beside, I sent him and I cannot go back on my own orders.”
So Yüan-tê was not pursued.
He took his arms, he fed his steed, And fared forth willingly, Intent to accomplish his King’s behest Deep graved on his memory. At least he had broken out of his cage, He heard not the tiger’s roar, He had shaken the shackles from his feet, As a dragon on high could soar.
As soon as Ma T‘êng heard that Liu Pei had set forth he reported that pressing business called him and marched back to his own district.
When Yüan-tê reached Hsüchou the governor, Ch‘ê Chou, came to meet him, and when the official banquet was over, Sun Ch‘ien and Mi Chu came to visit him. Then he proceeded to his residence to greet his family.
​Scouts were sent out to see what Yüan Shu was doing. They came back with the intelligence that his arrogance had driven away his banditti allies, who had returned to their mountain fastnesses. His forces thus reduced he had written resigning the Imperial style he had assumed in favour of his brother Shao, who had at once commanded his presence. Thereupon he packed up the palace fittings he had had made, got the remnants of his army in order and marched west.
When he neared Hsüchou, Yüan-tê led out his captains with the five legions to meet him. Yüan sent out Chi Ling to force a way through. But Chang Fei opposed him and attacked without a parley. In the tenth bout he cut down Chi Ling. The defeated soldiers fled in all directions.
Then Yüan Shu came up with his own army. Yüan-tê placed his captains right and left, he himself being in the centre, and so met Yüan Shu. As soon as the enemy came near Yüan-tê began to abuse him. “O rebellious one, and wicked, I have a command to destroy you. Yield, then, with good grace and so escape your punishment.”
“Base weaver of mats and mean maker of straw sandals, how dare you make light of me?” replied Shu and he gave the signal for an attack.
Yüan-tê retired and his captains from the flanks closed in. They smote the army of Shu till corpses littered the plain and blood flowed in streams. At the same time the bandits attacked the baggage train and completed the destruction. Shu tried to retreat to Shouch‘un but the bandits barred the road.
He sought refuge in Chiangt‘ing, with the small company left of all his army. And these were the weakly ones able neither to fight nor flee. It was then the height of summer and their food was nearly exhausted. The whole provision consisted of thirty measures of wheat. This was made over to the soldiers and the members of his household went hungry. Many died of actual starvation. Yüan Shu could not swallow the coarse food that the soldiers lived on. One day he bade his cook bring him some honey-water to quench his thirst.
“There is no water, save that tainted with blood,” replied the cook. “Where can I get honey-water?”
This was the last straw. Shu sat up on his couch and rolled out on the floor with a loud cry. Blood gushed from his mouth and thus he died. It was the sixth month of the fourth year of “Established Tranquillity.”
The last days of Han approached and weapons clashed in every quarter, The misguided Yüan Shu, lost to all sense of honour, Forgetful of his forefathers, who had filled the State’s highest Offices, Madly aspired to become himself Emperor, Resting his outrageous claim on the possession of The Seal, And arrogantly boasting that thus he fulfilled the design of Heaven. Alas! Sick unto death he vainly begged for a little honey-water; He died, alone.
​Yüan Shu being dead, his nephew taking his coffin and his wife and children, sought shelter in Luchiang. There the magistrate, Hsü Ch‘iu, slew all the survivors. Among the possessions he found the Imperial Seal, which he at once took to the capital and presented to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, for which service he was made Prefect of Kaoling.
When Yüan-tê heard that Yüan Shu was dead he prepared a report to the throne, and sent it to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. He sent the two officers deputed by Ts‘ao Ts‘ao back to the capital, keeping the army to defend Hsüchou. He also personally went through the country-side commanding the people to resume their ordinary avocations.
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao was angry when his two officers returned without their man and was going to put them to death. Hsün Yü reasoned with him.
“The power was in Liu Pei’s hands and so these two had no alternative,” said he.
So they were pardoned.
“You should instruct Ch‘ê Chou to try to destroy him,” said Yü.
Accordingly he sent secret orders to Ch‘ê Chou, who took Ch‘ên Têng into his confidence and asked his advice. Têng advised an ambush in the city gate to attack Liu Pei on his return from the country; he himself would attack the escort with arrows from the city walls. Ch‘ê agreed to try this.
Then Têng went to his father to tell him. His father Ch‘ên Kuei bade him go and warn the intended victim. He at once rode away to do so. Before long he met the two younger brothers, to whom he told his story.
Now Yüan-tê was following some distance behind. As soon as Chang Fei heard of the plot he wanted to attack the ambush, but Yün-ch‘ang said he had a better plan.
Said he, “The ambush will be a failure. And I think we can compass the death of Ch‘ê Chou. In the night we will pretend to be some of Ts‘ao’s men and entice him out to meet us. We will slay him.”
Chang Fei approved of the plan. Now the soldiers still had some of Tsʻao Ts‘ao’s army banners and wore similar armour. About the third watch they came to the city wall and hailed the gate. Those on guard asked who they were. The men replied that they were Chang Wên-yüan’s troop sent from the capital. This was told Ch‘ê Chou who sent hastily for Ch‘ên Têng to ask his advice.
“If I do not receive them they will suspect my loyalty,” said he. “Yet if I go out I may be victim of a ruse.”
So he went up on the wall and said it was too dark to distinguish friends from foes and they must wait till daylight. The men shouted back that Liu Pei must be kept in ignorance ​and they begged him to let them in. Still Ch‘ê Chou hesitated. They shouted louder than ever to open the gate.
Presently Ch‘ê girded on his armour, placed himself at the head of a company and went out. He galloped over the bridge, shouting, “Where is Wênyüan?”
Then lights blazed around and he recognised Kuan Yü with his sword drawn.
“Wretch!” cried Kuan Yü. “You would plot to slay my brother, would you?”
Ch‘ê Chou was too frightened to make good defence and he turned to re-enter the gate. But as he reached the drawbridge flights of arrows met him, wherefore he turned aside and galloped along under the wall. But Kuan Yü came quickly in pursuit. His sword was raised aloft and as it came down the fugitive fell to the earth. Kuan Yü cut off his head and returned, shouting, “I have slain the traitor. You others need not fear if you only surrender.”
They threw aside their spears and gave in. As soon as the excitement had calmed Kuan Yü took the head to show Yüan-tê and told him the story of the plot.
“But what will Ts‘ao Ts‘ao think of this?” said Yüan-tê. “And he may come.”
“If he does we can meet him,” said Kuan Yü.
But Yüan-tê was grieved beyond measure. When he entered the city the elders of the people knelt in the road to welcome him. When he reached his residence he found that Chang Fei had already exterminated the family of Ch‘ê Chou.
Yüan-tê said, “We have slain one of his best friends and how will he stand that?”
“Never mind!” cried Ch‘ên Têng. “I have a plan.”
Just from grave danger extricated, An injured friend must be placated.
The plan proposed by Ch‘ên Têng will be disclosed next.