# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 63

CHAPTER LXIII.
Chuko Liang Mourns for P‘ang T‘ung; Chang Fei Releases Yen Yen.
Fa Chêng and the new comer met with every sign of joy, clapping their hands and laughing with pleasure.
“This is P'êng Yang of Kuanghan, one of our heroes. His blunt speech, however, offended Prefect Liu, who put him to shame by shaving his head, loading him with fetters and forcing him into a monastery. That is why his hair is short.”
The introduction made, P‘ang treated the stranger with all the courtesy due to a guest and asked why he had come.
“To save a myriad of your men’s lives. I will explain fully when I see General Liu.”
A message was sent to Liu Pei, who came over to see the visitor. “How many men have you, General?” asked P'êng, when he arrived.
Yüan-tê told him.
“As a leader you cannot be ignorant of the lie of the land. Your camps over there are on the Fou River; if the river be diverted and armies hold your men in front and rear, not a man can escape.”
Liu Pei realised that this was true. P'êng continued, “The bowl of the Dipper lies toward the west and Venus stands over against us. The aspect is ominous of evil, and some misfortune threatens. It must be warded off.”
In order to retain his services, Liu Pei gave P'êng an appointment as a secretary. Then he sent messages to the captains at the camps telling them to keep most vigilant look-out to guard against the cutting of the river bank. When this message came the two captains agreed together to take duty day and day about and maintain the strict watch necessary in the presence of an enemy near at hand. They arranged means of communication in case either met with a body of the enemy.
One very stormy night Lêng Pao ventured out with a strong reconnoitring party and went along the river bank to seek a suitable place for the breach. But a sudden shouting in his rear told him that the men of Han were on the alert, and he at once retired. Wei Yen came in pursuit and, as he pressed nearer, Lêng’s men hurried forward, trampling each other down in their haste. Suddenly Lêng and Wei ran against each other, and they engaged. The fight was very short, for Wei soon took his opponent prisoner. Those who came to his ​rescue were easily beaten off, and Lêng was carried away. When he reached the Pass, Yüan-tê saw him and greatly blamed him for his base ingratitude.
“I treated you generously and set you free; you repaid me with ingratitude. I cannot forgive again.”
So the prisoner was beheaded and his captor was rewarded. A banquet was given in honour of P'êng.
Soon after this came a letter from K‘ung-ming, by the hand of Ma Liang, who reported all calm in Chingchin and told Yüan-tê that he need feel no anxiety. Opening the letter, Yüan-tê read: “I have been making some astrological calculations. This is the last year of the cycle, the bowl of the Dipper is in the western quarter and the planet Venus approaches Loch'êng. The configuration is inimical to leaders and the utmost caution is necessary.”
Having read this and sent Ma away, Yüan-tê said he would return himself to Chingchou and discuss the matter. But P‘ang, who thought in his heart that K‘ung-ming’s warning was due to a jealous desire to prevent him from winning the glory of conducting a victorious campaign, opposed this, saying, “I also have made calculations, and I read the signs to mean that the time is favourable for you to get possession of this land, and no evil is foreshown. Therefore be not of doubtful heart, my lord, but advance boldly.”
Yüan-tê was won over and decided to follow P‘ang’s advice. He ordered the two captains Huang Chung and Wei Yen to lead.
P‘ang asked of Fa Chêng what roads there were to follow, and the latter drew a map, which was found to agree exactly with that left by Chang Sung.
Fa said, “North of the mountains is a high road leading to the west gate. Both these roads are suitable for the advance of an army. ”
So P‘ang said to Liu Pei, “With Wei to lead the way, I will go along the southern road, while you, my lord, will advance along the high road, with Huang in the van. We will attack at the same time.”
Yüan-tê replied, “I was trained as a mounted archer and am accustomed to by-roads, wherefore, O Commander, I think you should take the high road and let me take the other.”
“There will be opposition on the high road and you are the best to deal with it. Let me take the by-road.”
“No; this does not suit me,” replied Yüan-tê. “A spirit bearing a massive iron club appeared to me in a dream and struck my right arm, so that I suffered great pain. I feel sure this expedition will turn out badly.”
P‘ang replied, “When a soldier goes into battle he may be killed, or he may be wounded; he accepts whichever is his fate. But should one hesitate because of a dream?”
​“The real reason of my hesitation is the letter from K‘ungming. Wherefore I wish you to remain and guard the Pass. Do you agree to that?”
P‘ang smiled, saying, “K‘ung-ming has indeed filled your mind with doubts. The real thing is that he is unwilling to let me have the merit of accomplishing a great undertaking alone. That is why he has written this. And your doubts and hesitations have produced the dream. But I see nothing ill-omened, and I am prepared for any sacrifice and mean just what I say. Pray, my lord, say no more, but prepare to set forth.”
So the order went forth that the morning meal was to be taken early and the army was to march at dawn. Huang and Wei were to take the lead, one along each road. These two set out first, and in due time Liu Pei and P‘ang T‘ung mounted and followed. Suddenly P‘ang’s horse shied and stumbled, throwing him off. Yüan-tê jumped down and seized the horse by the bridle, saying, “Why do you ride this wretched beast?”
“I have ridden him a long time and he has never done this before,” was the reply.
“A shying steed risks a man’s life,” said Yüan-tê. “Ride my horse, which is thoroughly trained and will never fail you. Give me yours.”
They exchanged horses. “I am deeply affected by your kindness,” said P‘ang. “I could never repay you if I suffered death a thousand times.”
Soon their ways diverged. After his adviser had left, Yüan-tê felt ill at ease and rode gloomily.
When the news of Lêng Pao’s capture and death reached Loch'êng the two commanders there took counsel together. Their colleague, Chang Jên, said, “I know a by-road on the east which is of great importance, and I pray you to let me guard it while you two hold the city.”
So as soon as the news of the advancing armies came, Chang led three companies to this road and placed them in ambush. They remained hidden while Wei Yen passed and made no attack. The main body under P‘ang T‘ung soon followed. The soldiers in ambush saw a rider on a fine white horse and pointed him out to one another, saying, “That surely is Liu Pei on the white horse.' Their leader rejoiced too, and he gave certain orders, which need not be recorded here.
P‘ang hastened forward. By and by the mountain road narrowed to a defile with dense thickets on either hand, and as the season was when summer changes into autumn, the foliage was thick and impenetrable. His heart misgave him, and presently he reined in his steed and asked if any knew the name of that place. One of the Shu soldiers who had joined his army said, “This is called 'The Slope of the Fallen Phoenix.'"
​P‘ang shuddered. “An evil omen for me, since 'Phoenix Fledgeling' is my Taoist name. There is no luck for me here.”
He decided to retire. But as he gave the order the roar of a bomb rent the air and arrows began to fly toward him thick as swarming locusts. All the hidden men were shooting at the rider of the white horse. And there, wounded by many arrows, poor P‘ang T‘ung died at the age of thirty-six.
A poem says:—
Deep in the blue recesses of the hills Lay hid the modest cot of Shih-yüan. But now each village urchin knows his story, And any village rustic tells his exploits. He knew the empire must be triply rent, And far he travelled lonely, to and fro. None knew that Heaven would cast down his star, Forbidding his return in glory clad.
A song was also written referring to P‘ang T‘ung:—
They were two, the Phoenix and the Dragon, And they would travel far to Shu; But on the road thither The Phoenix died on the mountain slope. The wind drives off the rain, The rain sends off the wind. It was the day of the Han restoration, When Shu was attained, But in the attainment The Dragon was alone.
Not only was the leader of the expedition slain, but more than half the soldiers fell in the narrow road that fatal day. Some of the men in the van escaped and ran off to tell Wei of the mishap to the army, and he halted and turned back to help. However, it was difficult to march back and he could not hack a way through, for the road was held by Chang, and archers and crossbowmen occupied all the heights.
Then one of the renegades proposed that they should try to return along the high road, and they started for Loch'êng this way. But in front of them arose a great cloud of dust, betraying the approach of an enemy. The defenders of the city were moving toward them, and Wei Yen was between the two armies closed in like the kernel of a nut. Wei fought hard to get through. When his case seemed most desperate and hopeless, he observed signs of confusion in the army that lay between him and the city. Soon that army turned and faced the other way. He pressed forward and presently saw men of his own side, led by the veteran Huang Chung.
“I will rescue you, Wên-chang,” shouted he, as he came near. Now the defenders of Loch‘êng found themselves between two enemies, and they were smitten heavily. They could not check Wei and Huang, who got through to the very walls of ​Loch'êng. Seeing them near, Liu Kuei, who had been left to defend the city, came out against them. Thereupon Huang and Wei, in spite of the nearness of the army of Liu Pei, refused battle and turned away from the city. Yüan-tê's army made a dash for two stockades, but when Chang came along a by-road and the other three defenders of the city came on, the stockades could not be held and Yüan-tê's army had to retire. Now fighting and now marching, the army of Liu Pei strove hard to reach Fou Pass, but Chang pressed close. However, Liu Pei’s adopted son and nephew came up, and not only drove back the pursuers but chased them some twenty li. Finally, Liu Pei and his men reached the Pass, weary and dispirited. His son and nephew returned from the pursuit with many horses they had captured from the flying enemy. However, nothing had been gained and the victory lay rather with the army of Shu.
One of the fugitives from the army finally reached Fou Pass and told Yüan-tê of the sad news of the death of his adviser, man and horse wounded to death. He turned his face to the west and mourned bitterly.
Although the body of the slain leader lay far away they instituted sacrifice to call the spirit, and all the captains keened for him.
Then said Huang, “Now that our leader is no more, certainly the enemy will return to attack the Pass. What is to be done? I think we had better send to Chingchou for Chuko Liang and get him to lay plans for getting possession of the country.”
And even then came in one to say that the enemy under Chang Jên had come and were now offering a challenge at the rampart. Huang and Wei wished to go forth to fight, but Liu Pei disapproved, saying, “We have suffered a severe check and the men are low-spirited. Let us rather remain on the defensive until the great adviser can arrive.”
Huang and Wei made no objection, but set themselves to guard the Pass most vigilantly, while a letter was written to Kʻung-ming and sent by the hand of Kuan P‘ing. He set forth at once and Yüan-tê gave himself up to holding the Pass.
It was the seventh day of the seventh moon, and in the evening Kʻung-ming invited his officers to a banquet. Conversation turned toward the enterprise in Ssuch‘uan. Suddenly a large and brilliant meteor appeared in the west, illuminating the whole sky. It so disturbed the host that he dashed his wine cup to the ground, covered his face and burst into tears.
“Alas! Alas!”
The guests eagerly asked him why he wept. He replied, “I knew by my calculations that the bowl of the Dipper would be in the west at this season and that the auspices would be unfavourable to leaders of armies, and lo! the Heavens have ​gone against our men. San Kuo, or When Venus was about to stand over Loch'êng I wrote to our lord warning him to be very cautious. I never contemplated the falling of the star this evening. Now P‘ang T‘ung is no more.”
Again he fell to weeping. “My lord has lost an arm!” moaned he.
The guests were rather disturbed, but they only half believed that such a misfortune had happened.
“We shall hear the sad news in a very few days,” said K‘ung-ming.
The banquet ended sadly enough, and the guests went their ways. A few days later, while K‘ung-ming was sitting with Kuan Yü and a few others, they reported the arrival of Kuan P‘ing with letters from the west. When the letters were opened they knew that P‘ang T‘ung had fallen the same evening that the meteor had appeared.
K‘ung-ming wailed and the others wept with him.
Then K‘ung-ming said, “I must go to help our lord; he is hemmed in at the Pass and cannot move.”
“If you go away, who will guard this city?” asked Kuan Yü. “It is of very great importance.”
“Our lord has not written plainly, but I know what was in his mind.” Then he showed the letter to the others and said, “Provision for the defence of this city is laid upon me and I am to find one equal to the task. I read the letter to mean that he desires Kuan Yü to undertake the defence, and I know that he will do it for the sake of the pledge taken long ago in the Peach Garden. The task is no light one.”
Kuan accepted without hesitation or thought of excuse. A special banquet was prepared at which the seal was to be handed over to him.
“All the future rests with you, General,” said K‘ung-ming as he raised the symbol of office to place it in the hands of the veteran warrior.
“When a man of honour accepts such a task he is only released by death,” replied Kuan.
But that ill-omened word “death” displeased K‘ung-ming, and even then he would have retracted but that his word had gone forth. He went on. “Now if Ts‘ao Ts‘ao attack what is to be done?”
“Repel him with all my strength.”
“But if Ts‘ao Ts‘ao and Sun Ch'üan attack you together, what then?”
“Fight both; half my force against each.”
K‘ung-ming said, “In that case, Chingchou would be in danger. I will give you my advice in a few words, and if you remember them the city is safe.”
“What are these few words?” asked Kuan.
“North, fight Ts‘ao; south, ally with Sun.”
​“These words, O Commander, are engraven on my heart.”
Thereupon the seal was placed in his hands. K‘ung-ming also appointed tried and worthy men to assist the new commander.
This done, K‘ung-ming began to prepare for his departure. Chang Fei, with a legion, was sent to fight his way into the country west of Pachou and Loch'êng and he was to go with all speed. The earlier he got through the greater merit would be his. Chao Yün was to lead a force up the river and make a junction at Loch'êng. K‘ung-ming, with his own body of men, would follow.
Among those who followed K‘ung-ming was one Chiang Wan, a noted scholar from Linghsiang. He went as Recorder.
K‘ung-ming and Chang Fei set out the same day. Just before leaving, the great strategist said to Chang, “Do not think lightly of the men of Ssuch‘uan, for there are many mighty men among them. On the march restrain your men from plunder and licence lest the ordinary people be against us. Wherever you halt be compassionate and kindly and do not give way to anger and flog your men. I shall expect you to reach Loch'êng very soon.”
Chang joyously mounted and left. He marched rapidly, and on the way all places that surrendered suffered nothing whatever.
When they drew near the Pachou district the scouts of Shu sent out by the Prefect of that place informed their master, Yen Yen. This Yen was one of the famous captains of Shu, and even then, although he was rather old, he had lost none of his boldness and could still pull the stiffest bow and wield the heaviest sword.
Being so famous, Yen was not the man to surrender at the first approach of an enemy. So when Chang came near he cautiously encamped about ten li from the city. Thence he sent a messenger to summon the Prefect to surrender. “Tell the old fool to give in, or I will trample down his walls and leave no soul alive.”
Yen had never favoured inviting Liu Pei into Shu. When he had first heard of the Prefect’s intention, he said, “This is like calling a tiger to protect one when one is alone on a bare hill side.” When he heard of the seizure of Fou Pass he was very angry and offered again and again to lead an army and drive out the aggressors. He had feared that his city would be attacked along this very road, so he had prepared his men, and when Chang’s message came he mustered them, five companies or so, to oppose him.
Then a certain man said to him, “You must be careful how you oppose a man who by the mere sound of his voice scared the many legions of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao at Tangyang Slope. Even Ts‘ao himself was careful to keep out of his way. Your safety ​is in defence, lying behind your ramparts and within your deep moats till hunger shall have vanquished your enemies. This Chang has a very violent temper, and if he is provoked he vents his anger in flogging his men. If you avoid battle he will be irritated and his cruelty to his men will cause them to mutiny. Then you can attack and will succeed.”
Yen thought the advice good. He therefore resolved only to defend, and he set all his men on the walls. When one of Chang’s soldiers came up to the gate and shouted for them to open, Yen gave orders to open the gate and admit the man. When he had come within he gave the message as has been related before. But the Prefect was exceedingly angry and said, “Fool that you are! How dare you speak thus to me? Think you that I, General Yen, will surrender to such as he? By your mouth indeed will I send a message.”
Then he bade the executioner cut off the man’s ears and nose. And thus mutilated he returned to Chang. When Chang heard of it his wrath boiled up and he cursed the defender of the city. Grinding his teeth and glaring with rage, he put on his armour, mounted his steed and went up close to the walls, with a few mounted men, and challenged those on the ramparts to fight him. But the men on the walls only replied with shameful abuse and none accepted the challenge. Chang galloped again and again to the drawbridge, only to be driven off each time with flights of arrows. But not a man came outside the walls. As the day closed in, the warrior, still fuming with wrath, returned to his own camp.
Next day Chang again led his men to the foot of the wall and challenged; again the challenge was refused. But Yen shot an arrow from the tower that struck Chang’s helmet. This angered him still more, and pointing the finger of disdain at his enemy, Chang cried, “I will capture you yet, you old fool, and then I will devour your flesh.”
So again at eventide the men of Han returned to camp baulked of their desire. On the third day Chang and his men made the circuit of the city along the edge of the moat, hurling insults at their enemies.
It so happened that the city was set on a hill with rugged heights all round, so that going around it the assailants were sometimes on hill tops and sometimes on the level. While standing on one of the hills, Chang noticed that he could see clear down into the city. There stood the defenders in their ranks, all readly for battle although none of them came out. And the common people went to and fro carrying bricks and bringing stones to strengthen the defences. Then he ordered his horsemen to dismount and his footmen to sit down so that they could not be seen from the city. He hoped thus to cheat the defenders into thinking that there were none to attack and so induce them to come out. But this also was vain, for still ​they declined battle and another day was lost. The army once more returned to camp.
That night Chang sat in his tent trying to think out some means to overcome an enemy that steadily refused to come out from behind the walls. Presently, however, the brain behind the knitted brow conceived a plan. So next day, instead of sending all the men to offer a challenge from the foot of the wall, he kept most of them in camp and sent only a few to howl insults and hurl abuse. He hoped by this means to inveigle Yen out to attack the small number of men. But this also failed, and he was left all day rubbing his hands with impatience. Never a man appeared without the wall.
Foiled again, another ruse grew up behind the knitted brows above his bushy eyebrows. He set his men to cut firewood and seek out and explore the tracks that lay about the city. No longer did they challenge the wall. After some days of this, Yen began to wonder what mischief was brewing, and he sent out spies, dressed as were the firewood cutters, to mingle with them and try to discover what was afoot.
That day, when the men returned to camp, Chang sat in his tent stamping his foot with rage and execrating his enemy. “The old fool! Assuredly I shall die of disappointed wrath,” cried he.
Just then he noticed three or four men lurking about his tent door as if they wished to speak with him. And one of them said, “General, do not let your heart be hot within you. These last few days we have discovered a narrow road by which we can sneak past this city.”
“Why did you not come and tell me before?” cried he.
“Because we have only lately discovered it,” said they.
“I will lose no time then,” said he. “This very night let food be ready at the second watch and we will break camp and steal away as silently as possible. I will lead the way and you shall go with me as guides.”
The requisite orders were given. Having made sure that the preparations for the march were really being made, the three spies, for such were they, returned into the city.
“I guessed right, then,” said Yen Yen gleefully when the three spies reported their success. “I cannot bear the old fool. He will now try to sneak past with his commissariat following and I will cut off his rear. How can he get through? He is very stupid to fall thus into my trap. ”
Orders were given to prepare for battle, to have the food ready at the second watch and move out at the third. The force was to hide in the woods and thickets till the greater part of the army had passed and Chang Fei had arrived in the very throat of the road. Then the blow would be struck.
They waited till night had fallen. In due time the late meal was taken, the men donned their armour, stole silently out of ​the city and hid as they had been told. The Prefect himself, with a few of his captains, went out also, dismounted and hid in a wood. They waited till after the third watch. Then Chang came along, urging his men to the top of their speed. His spear lay ready to thrust. He looked very handsome as he rode at the head of his men. The carts were three or four li in the rear.
When the soldiers had got well past, Yen gave the signal. The drums rolled out, up sprang the hidden men and fell on the baggage train.
They began to plunder. But suddenly a gong clanged and along came a company of soldiers Yen had not seen. At the same time a voice was heard shouting, “Old rebel, do not flee; I have been waiting for this chance a long time.”
Yen turned his head. The leader of this band was a tall man with a leopard-like bullet head, round eyes, a sharp chin and bristling tiger moustache. He was armed with a long spear and rode a jet-black steed. In a word, it was Chang Fei.
All around the gongs were clanging, and many captains were rushing toward Yen, already too frightened to be able to defend himself. However, the two leaders engaged. Very soon Chang purposely gave his opponent an opening and Yen rushed in to cut down his enemy with his sword. But Chang evaded the blow, made a sudden rush, seized Yen by the lace of his armour and flung him on the ground. He was a prisoner, and in a moment was fast bound with cords.
The handsome leader who had passed first had not been Chang Fei at all, but someone dressed and made up to resemble him. To add to the confusion, Chang had exchanged the signals, making the gong the signal for his men to fall on instead of the usual drum.
As the gongs clanged, more and more of the men of Han came into the fray. The men of Shu could make no fight, and most of them dropped their weapons and surrendered. To reach the walls of the city was now easy. After entering the gates the leader ordered his men not to hurt the people, and he put out proclamations to pacify the citizens.
By and by a party of executioners brought in the prisoner.
Chang Fei took his seat in the great hall, and the late commander of the city was brought before him by a party of executioners. Yen refused to kneel before his captor.
“Why did you not surrender at first?” cried Chang, angrily grinding his teeth. “How dared you try to oppose me?”
“Because you are a lot of unrighteous and lawless invaders,” replied Yen without the least sign of fear. “You may behead me an you will, but I will not surrender to you.' ”
Chang angrily gave the order for his execution.
“Strike, if you want to, fool; why be angry?” said Yen.
​This bold defiance was not lost upon Chang. Rising from his seat he went down the steps, put aside the lictors and began to loosen the prisoner’s bonds. Then he dressed him in new garments, led him to the high place, and, when he was seated, made a low bow, saying, “I have always known you were a hero. Now I pray you not to remember against me the roughness of my speech.”
Yen Yen was overcome with this kindness and forthwith surrendered.
A graybeard ruled in western Shu, Clear fame is his the whole world through, As radiant sun his loyalty, Unmatched his soul’s nobility. When captive taken rather he Would suffer death than crook his knee. Pachou he ruled for many a year, The world cannot produce his peer.
A poet has also written concerning Chang Fei:—
Yen Yen made prisoner, then the matchless one Exchanged the sword for reason, and so won The place he holds among the sacred ones Of Shu, to whom they sacrifice to-day.
Then Chang asked him to suggest the means of overcoming Shu. Yen replied, “I am but the defeated leader of a defeated force, indebted to the victor for my life. I have nothing but my humble services to offer, but I can tell you how to get possession of Ch'êngtu without drawing a bow or shooting an arrow.”
Cities yield in quick succession Because of one old man’s secession.
The proposal will be unfolded in the next chapter.