# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 114

CHAPTER CXIV.
King Mao Drives to His Death; Chiang Wei Abandons Stores and Conquers.
When the order to retreat was given, Liao Hua reminded his general of the standing precept that a leader in the field is independent and need not obey even the command of his prince, but Chiang was not inclined to disobey, and beside he recognised that the people, tired of war and disappointed with unfulfilled hopes, would be glad to rest.
Chang I said, “The country begins to resent these many years of war; rather take the occasion of the victory you have just won to return and pacify the people.”
“It is good,” said Chiang Wei.
A systematic and orderly retirement began. The army of Wei, loth to forgo an opportunity, followed, but the absence of the least confusion gave them no chance, and as he saw his enemy disappearing in perfect order Têng Ai had to confess that Chiang Wei was a worthy inheritor of the warlike methods of Chuko. He returned to his camp on Ch‘ishan.
On his return to Ch'êngtu, Chiang Wei had audience with the king whereat he inquired why he had been commanded to return.
The king replied, “Because you have been so long on the frontier, noble Sir; I thought the soldiers must be weary. There was no other reason.”
“O King, thy servant had got his camps on Ch‘ishan and was on the eve of complete success. To leave off thus in the middle just played into the hands of our enemies. Surely Têng Ai found means of sowing distrust in me.” The king sat lost in thought, and silent.
Chiang Wei continued, “I am pledged to destroy those rebels and prove my devotion to my country. Your Majesty should not listen to the babble of mean persons till distrust grows in your heart.”
“I do not distrust you,” said the king after a long pause.
“You may return into Hanchung and await the next favourable opportunity.”
Chiang Wei left the court and betook himself into Hanchung to the army.
Tang Chün went back to the Ch‘ishan camp and reported his success. The two leaders rejoiced, knowing that trouble was not far off when the king had lost confidence in his ​servants. They sent Tang to Loyang to tell his own story to Ssŭma Chao, who also rejoiced, for he ardently desired to subdue Shu.
On this matter he consulted the military officer Chia Ch‘ung.
“What do you think of an attack upon Shu?”
“Not to be considered,” said Chia. “The Emperor does not trust you, and your departure would be the beginning of trouble for you. When the yellow dragon was seen in the well and all the officers were felicitating the king upon such a very auspicious occurrence the Emperor said, 'It is not auspicious; just the reverse. The dragon symbolises the ruler. To be neither in heaven, nor on earth among the people, but to be in a well, is a dark portent and bodes evil.' He wrote some verses, and one stanza undoubtedly points to you, my lord.”
The dragon scotched a prisoner is, No longer leaps he in th' abyss, He soars not to the Milky Way, Nor can he in the meadows play; But coiled within a dismal well, With slimy creatures he must dwell, Must close his jaws, his claws retract, Alas! quite like myself in fact.
The recital of the poem annoyed Ssǔma Chao. “This fellow is very like Ts‘ao Fang, and if I do not remove him he will hurt me,” said he.
“I will see to it for you,” said Chia.
In the fifth year, during the fourth month, Ssǔma Chao had the effrontery to go to Court armed. However, the king received him with exaggerated courtesy, and the courtiers began to praise and magnify his services and say that he had been inadequately rewarded with the title “Duke of Chin” and the Nine Gifts.
And Ssǔma himself said discontentedly, “My father and my brother have all given great services to Wei, and yet I am a mere duke; something seems wrong.”
“Should I dare not do what you requested?” said the king.
“That poem about the Lurking Dragon called us slimy creatures; what sort of politeness is that?” said Ssŭma Chao. The king had nothing to say, and the haughty minister left the chamber, smiling cruelly as he strode past the shivering courtiers.
The king retired, taking with him Wang Shên, Wang Ching and Wang Yeh, and they went to a privy chamber to consult. The king was very sad. He said, “There is no doubt that he intends to usurp the throne; everybody knows that. But I will not sit thereon patiently awaiting the indignity of being pushed off. Cannot you gentlemen help me to kill him?”
​“He may not be slain,” said Wang Ching. “That will not do. In the old state of Lu, Duke Shao could not bear with the Ch‘i family, and ran away, thus losing his country. But this man and his family have been in power very long and have innumerable supporters, many of whom are quite independent of any act of his whether loyal or disloyal. They support him under any conditions. Your Majesty’s guards are few and weak and incapable; not the men for any desperate effort. It would be most lamentable if Your Majesty could not bear this trial. The correct course is to wait and not act hastily.”
“If I can bear this, what cannot I bear?” said the king. “But I will do something, and if I die, what matters?”
He went into the private apartments and spoke to his Consort. The three men sat outside talking.
“This matter is coming to a head, and unless we want to be put to death and all our loved ones with us, we had better go and warn Ssǔma Chao,” said Wang Shên.
This advice angered Wang Ching, whose nature was more noble, and he said, “The king’s sorrow is the minister’s shame, and a shamed minister dies. Dare you contemplate treachery?”
Wang Ching would have nothing to do with this visit to Ssǔma Chao, but the other two went to the Ssŭma palace to betray their king.
Shortly after, King Mao appeared, called the officer of the guard, Chiao Po, and bade him muster his men, grey-heads and lads, as many as he could. He got together about three hundred, and this little force marched out to the beating of a drum as escort to a small carriage, in which sat the king gripping his sword. They proceeded south. Wang Ching stepped to the front and prayed the king to stay his steps and not go.
“To go against Ssǔma with such a force is driving the sheep into the tiger’s jaws. To die such a death is a vain sacrifice. You can do nothing,” said Wang.
“Do not hinder me. I have made up my mind,” replied the king, heading toward the Dragon Gate.
Presently Chia Ch‘ung came in sight. He was armed and mounted on a fine horse. Beside him rode two officers, and behind him followed a body of mail-clad men, who shouted one to another as they rode.
Then Mao held up his sword and cried, “I am the Emperor. Who are you thus breaking into the forbidden precincts? Are you come to murder your lawful ruler?”
The soldiers suddenly stopped, for they were palace guards. Then Chia shouted to one of the officers, Ch'êng Chi, saying, “What did the general train you for if not for this day’s work?”
​Ch'êng took his halberd and turned to Chia, saying, “Death or capture?” “Ssǔma said he had to die,” replied Chia.
Ch'êng rushed toward the carriage.
“Fool! How dare you?” cried the king.
But the shout was cut short by a thrust from the halberd full in the breast; another thrust, and the point came out at the back, so that the king lay there dead beside his carriage. Chiao Po coming up to strike a blow in defence was also slain, and the little escort scattered.
Wang Ching, who had followed, upbraided Chia Ch‘ung, calling him traitor and regicide till Chia bade his lictors arrest him and stop his tongue.
When they told Ssǔma, he went into the palace, but the king was dead. He assumed an air of being greatly shocked and beat his head against the carriage, weeping and lamenting the while. He sent to tell all the officials of high rank.
When the T‘ai-fu Ssŭma Fu saw the dead body of the king he threw himself beside it, his head resting thereon, and wept, saying, “It is my fault that they slew Your Majesty.”
He had a coffin brought, and the remains were laid therein and borne to the side hall. Therein Ssŭma Chao entered and summoned the chief officers to a council. They came, all but the President Ch'ên T‘ai. Ssŭma noticed his absence and sent Hsün Chuan, his uncle and colleague, to call him. Ch'ên T‘ai wept aloud, saying, “Gossips will class me and my uncle together. Yet is my uncle less virtuous than I.”
However, he obeyed the summons and came, dressed in the coarse hempen cloth of mourning, and prostrated himself before the bier. Ssŭma Chao feigned to be grieved also.
“How can this day’s work be judged?” said he.
“If only Chia Ch‘ung be put to death, that will scarce be an atonement to satisfy the empire,” replied Ch‘ên T‘ai.
Ssŭma was silent and thought long before he spoke. Then he said, “What next, think you?”
“That is only the beginning; I know not the sequel.”
“Ch'êng Chi is the ungodly rebel and actual criminal; he should suffer the death of shame; and his family,” said Ssŭma Chao.
Thereupon Ch'êng broke out into abuse of Ssŭma and reviled him, saying, “It was not my crime; it was Chia Ch‘ung who passed on your own orders.”
Ssǔma bade them cut out his tongue and put him to death. They did so; and he and his brother were both put to death in the market place, and their families were exterminated.
“The king must die,” thus spoke Ssŭma full plain In Chia Ch‘ung’s hearing; and the king was slain. Although they killed Chiêng Chi, who dealt the blow, The author of the crime we all well know.
​Wang Ching’s whole household were imprisoned. He himself was standing by the T‘ing-yü Pavilion when he saw his mother being brought up a prisoner. He knocked his head on the ground and wept, saying, “O unfilial son to bring distress upon a gentle mother!”
But his mother laughed.
“Who does not die?” cried she. “The only thing to be feared is not dying the proper death. Who would regret dying like this?”
When next day the family were led out to execution, both mother and son smiled as they went past. But the whole city wept tears of sorrow.
Fu Chien was famous at the rise of Han, When Han declined, Wang Ching was proved a man Of purest virtue and unfaltering heart; With resolution stern he played his part. His fortitude was great as T‘aihua Mount, His life but as the floating down did count, The fame of son and mother n‘er will die, So long as shall endure the earth and sky.
Ssǔma Fu proposed that the body of the late king should receive a royal funeral, and the minister consented. Chia Ch‘ung and those of his party urged Ssŭma Chao to put Wei Ch‘an on the throne in place of Ts‘ao Mao, but he refused.
“Formerly King Wên had two-thirds of the state, and yet he supported and served Yin. Wherefore the Holy One called him 'Complete of Virtue.' Emperor Wu of Wei would not take Ch‘an into the Hans, nor will I receive a Ch‘an into Wei.”
Those who heard this felt that in these words was an implication that he intended to place his own son Ssǔma Yen on the throne, and they ceased to urge him to act.
In the sixth year Ts‘ao Huang, Duke of Ch‘angtaohsiang, was raised to the throne as Emperor, the period-style being changed to Ching-Yüan. The personal name of the Emperor was also changed to Huan. He was a grandson of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. Ssǔma was still Prime Minister and Duke of Chin. Beside, he received rich gifts, and all the officers were promoted or received honours.
When these doings in Wei were told in Shu, Chiang Wei seized upon them as pretext for another war, to punish Wei for the deposition of its ruler. So letters were written calling upon Wu to help, and a memorial was sent to the Throne. The army raised was fifteen legions, and there were many carts with boxes made to fit them. The two vanleaders went by Tzuwu and Lo Valleys, while Chiang Wei took the Hsieh Valley road. They marched at the same time and hastened toward Ch‘ishan.
​Têng Ai was still on the mountain training the Wei soldiers when he heard that the Shu armies were once more on the war path. He called his officers together. And Wang Kuan said he had a plan to propose, but he would not tell it openly. However, he agreed to write it, and he placed it before the leader.
“Though excellent, I fear it is not enough to beguile the leader of Shu,” said Têng Ai as he finished reading.
“I am willing to stake my life on it,” said Wang, “and I will lead the way.”
“Since you have such confidence you may try. You ought certainly to succeed.”
So half a legion of men were put under the leadership of Wang, and they set out for Hsieh Valley, where they fell in with the scouts of Chiang Wei’s force. Seeing these, their leader, Wang, shouted, “We are deserters: tell your leader.”
So the scouts told Chiang Wei, who replied, “Hold up the soldiers, letting their leader only come to me.”
Wang Kuan went forward and kneeled before him, saying, “I am a nephew of Wang Ching, and I hate Ssǔma Chao for what he has done to the king, and my uncle and I wish to join you and my men with me. I also desire to be sent against the rebel crew that I may avenge my uncle.”
Then said Chiang Wei, “Since you are sincere in your desertion, I must be sincere in my treatment of you. The one thing my army needs is grain. There is plenty at Ch‘uank‘ou, and if you can transport it to Ch‘ishan I can go straightway and take the Ch‘ishan camps.”
This reply rejoiced Wang Kuan, who saw that Chiang Wei was just going to walk into the trap. So he agreed at once.
“But you will not want half a legion to see after the transport. Take three companies and leave two as guides for me. ”
Wang Kuan, thinking that suspicions would be raised by a refusal, took the three companies, and the other two were attached to the army of Shu.
Then Hsiahou Pa was announced, and, when he was come in, he said, “O Commander, why have you believed the tale of this Wang? I never heard that he was related to Wang Ching, though it is true I never made particular enquiries. You should look to it, for there is much pretence in his story.”
“I know he is false,” said Chiang Wei, with a smile. “That is why I have taken away many of his men. I am meeting trick with trick.”
“How do you know for certain?”
“Ssǔma Chao is as wicked as Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. If he slew all Wang Ching’s family, would he have left a nephew on the male side, and sent him beyond his own reach with soldiers? You saw this, as did I.”
​So Chiang Wei did not go out by the Hsieh Valley, but he set an ambush there ready for any move of the so-called deserters. And indeed, within ten days, the ambush caught a man with a letter from Wang to Têng telling him what had come about, and from the letter and the bearer thereof they learned that a convoy was to be diverted to the Wei camps on the twentieth and Têng Ai was to send men to Yünshan to help. Another letter was sent to Têng Ai by a man dressed as a Wei soldier, the date being made the fifteenth instead of the twentieth.
As a preparation, many waggons were emptied of their grain and laden with inflammables, covered with green cloth. The two companies of Wei soldiers were ordered to show flags belonging to the transport corps. Then Chiang Wei and his colleague went into the valleys in ambush, while three bodies of men were sent to attack Ch‘ishan.
The letter, apparently from Wang Kuan, was sufficient for Têng Ai, and he wrote back to say it was agreed. So on the fifteenth day five legions hove in sight near Yünshan. And the scouts saw endless carts of grain and fodder in the distance coming from the mountains. When Têng Ai got closer, he distinguished the uniforms of Wei. His staff urged him to hurry as it was getting dark, but Têng was more cautious.
“It is gloomy and dark over there,” said the general. “If by any chance an ambush has been laid we could hardly escape. We will wait here.”
But just then two horsemen came up at a gallop and said, “Just as General Wang was crossing the frontier with the convoy he was pursued, and reinforcements are urgently needed.”
Têng Ai, realising the importance of the request, gave orders to press onward. It was the first watch, and a full moon was shining as bright as day. The shouting heard behind the hills he could only conclude was the noise of the battle in which his colleague was engaged.
So he dashed over the hills. But suddenly a body of men came out from the shelter of a grove of trees, and at their head rode the Shu leader, Fu Ch‘ien.
“Têng Ai, you are stupid! You have just fallen into the trap set for you by our general. Dismount and prepare for death!”
Têng Ai halted and turned to flee. Then the waggons burst into flame. That flame was a signal, and down came the men of Shu. Têng Ai heard shouts all round him, “A thousand taels for anyone who captures Têng Ai, and a marquisate as well!”
Terrified, Têng dropped his arms, threw aside his armour, slipped from his steed, mingled with the footmen, and with them scrambled up the hills. The captains of Shu only looked ​for him among the mounted leaders, never guessing that he had got away among the common soldiers. So he was not captured.
Chiang Wei gathered in his victorious men and went to meet Wang Kuan with his convoy.
Having made all arrangements, as he thought, complete, Wang Kuan was patiently awaiting the development of his scheme, when a trusted friend came and told him that the ruse had been discovered and Têng Ai had already suffered defeat. Wang sent out some scouts, and the report was confirmed, with the addition that armies were coming against him. Moreover, clouds of dust were rising. There was no way of escape, so he ordered his men to set fire to the convoy, and soon huge flames were rising high into the air.
“The case is desperate,” cried Wang. “It is a fight to the death.”
He led his men westward, but the men of Shu came in pursuit. Chiang Wei thought his enemy would try at all costs to get back to his own, but instead, Wang Kuan went on toward Hanchung, and as his men were too few to risk a battle he destroyed the military stations and covered ways as he went. Fearing the loss of Hanchung, Chiang Wei abandoned all thought of pursuing Têng Ai, but made all haste along the by-roads after Wang Kuan. Surrounded on all sides, Wang Kuan jumped into the Black Dragon River and so died. Those of his men who survived were slain by Chiang Wei.
A victory had been won, but it was costly. Many men had been killed, much grain had been lost and the covered roads had been destroyed. Chiang led his men into Hanchung.
Têng Ai made his way back to Ch‘ishan. From there he reported his defeat to the King of Wei and asked for degradation as a penalty. However, in view of his victories, he was not degraded, but, on the other hand, was consoled with magnificent gifts, which he distributed to the families of the men who had been killed. Ssǔma Chao also sent him five legions as reinforcement lest Shu should attack again.
Chiang Wei set about the restoration of the covered roads ready for the next expedition.
Repair the roads for marching feet to tread, The strife will only cease when all are dead.
The next chapter will tell who won.