# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 120

CHAPTER CXX.
A Veteran Offers New Plans; Sun Hao Surrenders and the Three States Re-unite.
When the King of Wu knew that the House of Wei had fallen before the Chins he also knew that the usurper’s next thought would be the conquest of his own land. The anxiety made him ill, so that he took to his bed and was like to die. He then summoned to his bedside Puyang Hsing, his First Minister, and his heir Sun Ling. But they two came almost too late. The dying ruler, with his last effort, took the minister by the hand, but could only point to his son. Then he died.
Puyang left the couch and called a meeting of the officers, whereat he proposed to place the heir on his father’s throne. Then one Wan Yü rose and said the young prince was too youthful to rule in such troublous times, and he suggested instead Sun Hao, who stood in the direct line from Sun Ch'üan. He was then Marquis of Wuch'êng. The General Chang Pu supported his election, saying he was able and prompt in decision. However, Puyang was doubtful and consulted the Empress Dowager.
“Settle this with the nobles,” she replied; “I am a widow and know nothing of such matters.”
Finally Sun Hao won the day, and in the seventh month he was enthroned as Emperor in Wu, and the first year of his reign was Yüan-Hsing (264 a.d.). The excluded prince was consoled with the title of Prince Yüchang. Posthumous rank was given to the late Emperor’s father and mother. The veteran leader Ting Fêng was made Minister of War.
However, the year-style was changed to Kan-Lu the very next year.
The new ruler soon proved himself cruel and oppressive and day by day grew more so. He indulged in every form of vice and chose an eunuch as his confidant and favourite. When the Prime Minister and Chang Pu ventured upon remonstrance, both, with all their family, were put to death. Thereafter none dared to speak; the mouth of every courtier was “sewn up.”
Another year-style, Pao-Ting, was adopted the next year, and the responsibility of the Prime Minister’s office was shared by two officers, “the left” and “the right.”
​At this time the imperial residence was in Wuch‘ang. The people of Yangchow refused tribute and suffered exceedingly. There was no limit to the ruler’s extravagance; the treasury was swept clean and the income of the royal domain exhausted.
At length Lu K‘ai, “left,” or senior, Prime Minister, ventured a memorial, saying, “No natural calamity has fallen upon the people, yet they starve; no public work is in progress, yet the treasury is empty. I am distressed. The country under the Hans has fallen apart and three states have arisen therefrom. Those ruled by the Ts‘aos and the Lius, as the result of their own folly, have been lost in Chin. Foolish I may be, but I would protect the state for Your Majesty against the evils we have seen in the other divisions. This city of Wuch‘ang is not safe as a royal residence. There is a rhyme concerning it, the gist of which is that it is better to drink the water of Chienyeh than eat the fish of Wuch‘ang, better to die in Chienyeh than to live in Wuch‘ang. This shows the regard of the people as well as the will of Heaven. Now the public storehouses are nearly empty; they contain insufficient for a year’s use. The officers of all grades vex and distress the people and none pity them.
“In former times the palace women numbered less than a hundred; for years past they have exceeded a thousand. This is an extravagant waste of treasure. The courtiers render no disinterested service, but are split into cliques and cabals. The honest are injured and the good driven away. All these things undermine the state and weaken the people. I beg Your Majesty to reduce the number of officers and remove grievances, to dismiss the palace women and select honest officers, to the joy of the people and the tranquillity of the state.”
But the king was displeased, and showed his contempt for the minister’s remonstrance by beginning to collect material for the building of a new palace to be called the “Chaoming Palace.” He even made the officers of the court go into the forest to fell trees for the work.
The king called in the soothsayer Shang Kuang and bade him take the sortes and enquire as to the attainment of empire. The soothsayer replied that all was propitious and in the year kêng-tzu a black umbrella would enter Loyang. And the king was pleased.
He said to Hua Fu, “The former rulers listened to your words and sent captains to various points and placed defensive camps along the rivers. And over all these was set Ting Fêng. Now my desire is to conquer Han and avenge the wrongs of my brother, the ruler of Shu. What place should be first conquered?”
Hua Fu replied, “Now that Ch'êngtu has fallen and the Throne there been overturned, Ssŭma Yen will assuredly ​desire to absorb this land. Your Majesty should display virtue and restore confidence to your people. That would be the best plan. If you engage in war it will be like throwing on hemp to put out a fire; the hemp only adds to the blaze. This is worthy of careful consideration.”
But Sun Hao grew angry and said, “I desire to take this opportunity to return to my real heritage. Why do you employ this ill-omened language? Were it not for your long service, now would I slay you and expose your head as a warning.”
He bade the lictors hustle the faithful minister from his presence, and Hua Fu left the court.
“It is pitiful,” said he, “Ere long our beautiful country will pass to another.”
So he retired. And the king ordered Lu K‘ang, “Guardian of the East,” to camp his army at Chiangk‘ou in order to attack Hsiangyang.
Spies reported this in Loyang and it was told the King of Wei. When he heard that the army of Wu threatened to invade Hsiangyang he called a council, and Chia Ch‘ung stood forth, saying, “I hear the government of Wu, under its present king, is devoid of virtue and the king has turned aside out of the road. Your Majesty should send Yang Hu to oppose this army, and when internal trouble shall arise let him attack, and victory will then be easy.”
The king issued an edict ordering Yang Hu to prepare, and so he mustered his men and set himself to guard the district.
Yang was very popular. Any of the men of Wu who desired to desert to the other side were allowed to come over. He employed only the fewest possible men on patrol duty. Instead he set his men to till the soil, and they cultivated an extensive area, whereby the hundred days' supplies with which they set out were soon increased to enough for ten years.
Yang maintained great simplicity, wearing the lightest of garments and no armour. His personal escort numbered only about a score.
One day his officers came to his tent to say that the spies reported great laxity in the enemy’s camp, and they wished to attack.
But Yang replied, “You must not despise Lu K‘ang, for he is able and crafty. Formerly his master sent him to attack Hsiling, and he slew Pu Shan and many of his captains. I could not save them. So long as he remains in command I shall remain on the defensive. I shall not attack till there be trouble and confusion among our enemies. To be rash and not await the proper moment to attack is to invite defeat.”
They found him wise and said no more. They only kept the boundaries. One day Yang and his officers went out to hunt, and it happened that Lu had chosen the same day to hunt. ​Yang gave strict orders not to cross the boundary, and so each hunted only on his own side. Lu was astonished at the enemy’s scrupulous propriety. In the evening, after both parties had returned, Yang ordered an inspection of the slaughtered game and sent over to the other side any that seemed to have been first struck by the men of Wu.
Lu K‘ang was greatly pleased and sent for the bearers of the game. “Does your leader drink wine?” asked he.
They replied, “Only on ceremonial occasions does he drink.”
“I have some very old wine,” replied Lu, smiling, “and I will give of it to you to bear to your general as a gift. It is the wine I myself drink on ceremonial occasions, and he shall have half in return for to-day’s courtesy.”
They took the wine and left.
“Why do you give him wine?” asked Lu’s officers.
“Because he has shown kindness, and I must return courtesy for courtesy.”
When the gift of wine arrived and the bearers told Yang the story of their reception he laughed.
“So he knows I can drink,” said he.
He had the jar opened, and the wine was poured out. One of his captains begged him to drink moderately lest there should be some harm come of it.
“Lu K‘ang is no poisoner,” replied the general.
And he drank. The friendly intercourse thus begun continued, and messengers frequently passed from one camp to the other.
One day the messengers said that Lu K‘ang was unwell and had been ailing for several days.
“I think he suffers from the same complaint as I,” said Yang, “I have some remedies ready prepared and will send him some."
The drugs were taken over to the other camp. But the sick man’s officers were suspicious and said, “This medicine is surely harmful; it comes from the enemy. ”
Lu K‘ang cried, “What! Think you that old Uncle Yang would poison a man? Do not doubt.”
He drank the decoction. Next day he was much better, and when his staff came to congratulate him he said, “If he takes his stand upon virtue and we take ours upon violence, he will drag us after him without fighting. See to it that the boundaries be well kept and that we seek not to gain any unfair advantage.
Soon after came a special envoy from the King of Wu to urge upon his general prompt activity.
“Our Emperor sends orders for you to press forward,” said the envoy. “You are not to await invasion.”
“You may return and I will send up a memorial,” replied the leader.
​So a memorial was written and soon followed the envoy to Chienyeh. When the king read it he found therein many arguments against attacking Chin and exhortations to exercise a virtuous rule instead of engaging in hostilities. It angered him.
“They say he has come to an understanding with the enemy, and now I believe it,” said the king.
Thereupon he deprived Lu of his command and took away his commission and degraded him in rank. Another general, Sun Chi, was sent to supersede Lu. And none dared to intervene.
King Hao became still more arbitrary and of his own will changed the year-style once more. Day by day his life became more wanton and vicious.
The soldiers in every camp murmured with anger and resentment, and at last three high officers, led by the senior Prime Minister, boldly and earnestly remonstrated with the king for his many irregularities. They suffered death. Within ten years more than two score ministers were put to death for doing their duty.
King Hao maintained an extravagantly large guard of five legions of heavy cavalry, and these men were the terror of everyone.
Now when Yang Hu, on the Chin side of the frontier, heard that his opponent had been removed from his command and that the conduct of the king had become wholly unreasonable he knew that the time was near for him to overcome Wu. Wherefore he presented a memorial.
“Although fate is superior to man, yet success depends upon human effort. Now as the danger of Chiang and Huai are not as those of Chienko, while the ferocity of Sun Hao exceeds that of Liu Ch‘an, the misery of the men of Wu exceeds that of the dwellers in the west. Our armies are stronger than ever before, and if we miss this opportunity to bring the whole land under one rule, but continue to weary our men with continual watching and cause the world to groan under the burden of militarism, then our efficiency will decline and we shall not endure.”
When Ssǔma Yen read this he gave orders for the army to move. But three officers, led by Chia Ch‘ung, opposed it, and the orders were withdrawn. Yang Hu was disappointed and said, “What a pity it is that of ten possible vexations one always meets with eight or nine!”
In the fourth year of the period Yang Hu went to court and asked leave to retire on account of ill health. Before granting him leave to go, the king asked him what means he would propose to settle the state.
He replied, “Sun Hao is a very cruel ruler and could be conquered without fighting. If he were to die and a wise ​successor sat upon his throne, Your Majesty would never be able to gain possession of Wu.”
“Suppose your army attacked now; what then?” asked the king.
“I am now too old and too ill for the task,” replied Yang. “Some other bold and capable leader must be found.”
He left the court and retired to his home. Toward the end of the year he was nigh unto death, and the king went to visit him. The sight of his king at his bedside brought tears to the eyes of the faithful old soldier. “If I died a myriad times, I could never requite Your Majesty,” said he.
The king also wept, saying, “My great grief is that I could not take advantage of your abilities to attack Wu. Who now is there to carry out your design?”
Hesitatingly the sick man replied, “I am dying and must be wholly sincere. The General Tu Yü is equal to the task, and is the one man to attack Wu.”
The King said, “How beautiful it is to bring good men into prominence! But why did you write a memorial recommending certain men and then burn the draft so that no one knew?”
The dying man answered, “I bowed before the officials in open court, I besought the kindness of the private attendants, but all in vain.”
So he died, and Ssŭma Yen wailed for him and then returned to his palace. He conferred on the dead leader the posthumous rank of T‘ai-fu and the title of Marquis. The traders closed their shops out of respect to his memory, and all the frontier camps were filled with wailing. The people of Hsiangyang, recalling that he loved to wander on the Hsien Hills, built there a temple to him and set up a stone and sacrificed regularly at the seasons. The passers-by were moved to tears when they read Yang’s name on the tablet, so that it came to be called “The Stone of Tears.”
I saw the fragments of a shattered stone One spring time on the hillside, when, alone, I walked to greet the sun. The pines distilled Big drops of dew unceasing; sadness filled My heart. I knew this was the Stone of Tears, The stone of memory sad of long-past years.
On the strength of Yang’s recommendation Tu Yü was placed over Chingchou, and the title of “Guardian of the South” was conferred upon him. He was a man of great experience, untiring in study and devoted to the Tso Chuan, the book of history composed by Tso Ch‘iu-ming upon the record “Spring and Autumn.' In hours of leisure a copy was never out of his hand and when he went abroad an attendant rode in front with the beloved book. He was said to be “Tso Chuan mad.”
​Tu went to Hsiangyang and began by being kind to the people and caring for his soldiers. By this time Wu had lost by death both Ting Fêng and Lu K‘ang, its two most famous leaders.
The conduct of the King of Wu waxed worse and worse. He used to give great banquets whereat intoxication was universal. He appointed Rectors of Feasts to observe all the faults committed by guests, and after these banquets all offenders were punished, some by flaying the face, others by gouging out the eyes. Every one went in terror of these Rectors.
Wang Chün, Governor of Yichou, sent in a memorial advising an attack upon Wu. He said, “Sun Hao is steeped in vice and should be attacked at once. Should he die and be succeeded by a good ruler we might meet with serious opposition. The ships I built seven years ago lie idle and rotting; why not use them? I am seventy years of age and must soon die. If any one of three events happen, the death of Sun Hao, the destruction of these ships, or my death, then success will be difficult to ensure. I pray Your Majesty not to miss the tide.”
At the next assembly of officers King Ssǔma Yen said to them, “I have decided to act; I have received similar advice from two officers.”
At this arose Wang Hun and said, “I hear Sun Hao intends to march north and has his army ready. Report says it is formidable and would be hard to defeat. I counsel to await another year till that army has lost its first vigour.”
A command to cease warlike preparations was the result of this counsel. The king betook himself to his private chamber where he engaged in a game of wei-ch‘i, with Chang Hua as opponent. While at the game, another memorial arrived; it was from Tu Yü. It read:—
“Formerly Yang Hu explained his plans confidentially to Your Majesty, but did not lay them before the court. The result has been much debate and conflict of opinion. In every project there are pros and cons, but in this the arguments are mostly in favour. The worst that can happen is failure. Since last autumn the proposed attack has become generally known, and, if we stop now, Sun Hao will be frightened and remove the capital to Wuch‘ang, repair his fortifications in Chiangnan and move his threatened people out of danger. Then the capital cannot be assaulted, nor is there anything left in the countryside to rob. Hence next year’s attack will also fail.”
Just as the King finished reading, Chang Hua pushed back the board, rose and drew his hands into his sleeves, saying, “Your Majesty’s skill in war is almost divine, your state is prosperous and the army strong; the King of Wu is a tyrant, ​his people are miserable and his country mean. Now you can easily conquer him, and I pray that there be no further hesitation.”
“How could I hesitate after your discourse?” said the king.
Thereupon he returned to the council chamber and issued his commands. Tu Yü was given chief command and was to attack Chiangling; Wang Yu, of Langya, to attack Ch‘uchung; Wang Hun to go up against Hêngchiang; Yang Jung to move against Wuch‘ang; Hu Fên to attack Hsiak‘ou. And all divisions were under the orders of Tu Yü. In addition to the land forces, two large fleets were to operate on the river. A separate force was sent away to Hsiangyang.
The King of Wu was greatly alarmed at the news of such armies and fleets, and he called to him quickly his Prime Minister Chang T‘i and two others, Ho Chih and Hsi Hsiu, to consult how to defend his land. The Prime Minister proposed to send Wu Yen to meet the enemy at Chiangling, Sun Hsin to Hsiak‘ou, while he himself took command of a camp at Niuchu, ready to lend help at any point.
The King approved his dispositions and felt satisfied that he was safe by land. But in the privacy of his own apartment he felt miserable, for he realised that no preparations had been made against an attack by water. Then Ts'ên Hun asked the king why he bore a sad countenance and King Sun Hao told him of his dread of the enemy navy.
“But I have a scheme that will smash all their ships,” cried Ts‘en.
“What is it?” asked the King, pleased to hear this.
“Iron is plentiful. Make great chains with heavy links and stretch them across the river at various points. Also forge many massive hammers and arrange them in the stream so that when the enemy’s ships sail down before the wind they will collide with the hammers and be wrecked. Then they will sail no more.”
Blacksmiths were soon at work on the river bank welding the links and forging the hammers. Work went on day and night, and soon all were in place.
As has been said Tu Yü was to attack Chiangling, and he sent Chou Chih with eight hundred sailors to sail secretly along the river to Lohsiang. There they were to make a great show of flags along the bank and among the trees. Drums were to be beaten and bombs exploded during the day and many fires lighted at night to give the appearance of a great army.
So Chou sailed to Pashan. Soon after the army and the marine forces made a simultaneous advance, but the navy of Wu, under Sun Hsin, came up, and at the first encounter Tu Yü's army retired. Sun Hsin landed his men and pursued. But in the midst of the pursuit a signal bomb sounded and Sun Hsin was attacked on all sides. He tried to retire, but the ​army he had been pursuing, Tu’s force, turned back too and joined in the attack.
Wu’s losses were very heavy, and Sun Hsin hastened back to the city. At the ramparts the men of Chin mingled with his own and so entered the gates. They raised signal fires on the walls. This manœuvre amazed Sun, and he said that the northern men had surely flown into the city. He made an effort to escape, but the leader of Chin, Chou Chih, unexpectedly appeared and slew him.
A fleet of the ships of Wu had accompanied Sun Hsin. The admiral, Lu Ching, saw on the south shore a great standard bearing the name of Tu Yü. He became alarmed and landed to try to escape, but was soon found and slain.
At his position at Chiangling Wu Yen heard of these defeats and knew his position was untenable, so he fled. However, he was soon captured and led into the presence of the victorious general.
“No use sparing you,” said Tu Yü, and he sentenced the prisoner to death.
Thus Chiangling was captured and all the districts along the Hsiang and Yüan rivers as far as Huangchou, which surrendered at the first summons.
Tu Yü sent out officers to soothe the people of the conquered districts, and they suffered nothing from the soldiery. Next he marched toward Wuch‘ang, and that city also yielded. So the glory of Tu Yü was very great.
Tu summoned his officers to a council to decide upon attacking Chienyeh. Hu Fu said, “A whole century’s raiding will not reduce it completedly. The time of the spring rise of waters is near and our position is precarious. We should do well to await the coming spring.”
Tu Yü replied, “In the days of old, Yo I obtained the aid of the west and overcame Ch‘i in one battle. Our prestige is now high and success certain, easy as the splitting of a bamboo, which seems to welcome the knife after the first few joints have been overcome. We shall meet no great opposition.”
So he gave orders to the various leaders to move in concert against the city.
Now Wang Chün had gone down the river with his naval force. From his scouts he heard of the chains and the hammers that had been laid in the river to hinder his progress. But he only smiled. He constructed great rafts of timber and placed on them straw effigies of men in armour and sent them down river with the current. The defenders of Wu took them for real men and, alarmed by their numbers, fled in panic. Then the great hammers were lifted out of the stream and the rafts drifted on.
Moreover, on the rafts they laid great torches many fathoms long, and very thick, made of straw soaked in linseed oil. ​When the raft was checked by a chain the torches were lighted and the chains exposed to the heat till they melted and broke asunder. Thus the rafts went down stream conquering wherever they came.
Then the Prime Minister of Wu sent two generals, Shên Jung and Chuko Ching, to try to check the advance of the armies. Shên Jung said to his colleague, “The forces above have failed to stop the enemy, and they will surely come here. We shall have to put forth all our strength. If haply we can succeed, the safety of our country is assured. But suppose we fight and lose the battle, then is our country lost.”
“Sir, you only say what is too true,” said his colleague.
Just as they talked of these matters came reports of the approach of their enemies in irrestible force. The two leaders were seized with panic and went back to see the Prime Minister.
“Our country is lost,” cried Chuko. “Why not run?”
“We all know that the land is doomed,” replied the Prime Minister, “but if we make no defence, and no one dies for his country, shall we not be shamed?”
Chuko Ching left, weeping, and the Prime Minister went with Shên Jung to the army. The invaders soon arrived, and Chou Chih was the first to break into the camp. Chang T‘i, the Prime Minister, resisted stubbornly, but was soon slain in a mêlée, and Shên was killed by Chou Chih. The army of Wu was defeated and scattered.
Chin’s army banners waved on Pashan mount And trusty Chang in Chiangling fighting died; He recked not that the kingly grace was spent, He rather chose to die than shame his side.
The armies of Chin conquered at Niuchu and penetrated deeply into the country of Wu. From his camp Wang Chün sent a report of his victory to Loyang, and Ssǔma Yen was pleased.
But Chia Ch‘ung again opposed further fighting, saying, “The armies have been long absent and the men will suffer from the unhealthiness of the country. It would be well to call them home.”
Chang Hua spoke against this course, saying, “The army has reached the very home and centre of the enemy. Soon their courage will fail and the king himself will be our prisoner. To recall the army now would be to waste the efforts already made.”
The king inclined to neither side. Chia turned upon his opponent savagely, saying, “You are wholly ignorant and understand nothing; you are bent upon winning some sort of glory at the expense of our soldiers' lives. Death would be too good for you.”
​“Why wrangle?” said the king. “Chang Hua agrees with me, and he knows my wishes.”
Just at this moment came a memorial from the leader Tu Yü also recommending advance, whereupon the king decided that the army should go on.
The royal mandate duly reached the camp and the Chin navy went out to the attack in great pomp. The men of Wu made no defence, but surrendered at once.
When the King of Wu heard his men had surrendered thus, he turned pale, and his courtiers said, “What is to be done? Here the northern army comes nearer every day and our men just give in.”
“But why do they not fight?” said the king.
The courtiers replied, “The one evil of to-day is the eunuch Ts'ên Hun. Slay him, and we ourselves will go out and fight to the death.”
“How can a eunuch harm a state?” cried the king.
“Have we not seen what Huang Hao did in Shu?” shouted the courtiers in chorus.
Moved by sudden fury, the courtiers rushed into the palace, found the wretched object of their hate and slew him, some even tasting of his palpitating flesh.
Then T‘ao Chün said, “All my ships are small, but give me large vessels and I will place thereon two legions and go forth to fight. I can defeat the enemy.”
His request was granted, and the royal guards were sent up the river to join battle, while another naval force went down stream. But a heavy gale came on. The flags were blown down and lay over in the ships, and the men would not embark. They scattered leaving their leader with only a few score men.
Wang Chün, the leader of Chin, set sail and went down the river. After passing Three Hills, the sailing master of his ship said the gale was too strong for him to go on. He wished to anchor till the storm had moderated. But Wang would not listen. “I wish to capture Shiht‘ouch'êng (now Nanking),” said he, “and will not hear of anchoring.”
So he compelled the sailing master to continue. On the way Chang Hsiang, one of the leaders of Wu, came to offer surrender.
“If you are in earnest, you will lead the way and help me,” said Wang.
Chang consented, returned to his own ship and led the squadron. When he reached the walls he called to the defenders to open the gates and allow the Chin army to enter. The gates were opened.
When the King heard that his enemies had actually entered the city he wished to put an end to his life, but his officers prevented this.
​They said, “Your Majesty, why not imitate the conduct of Liu Ch‘an, now Duke of Anlô?”
So the king no longer thought of death, but went to offer submission, his face covered and taking a coffin with him. His officers followed him. He was graciously received, General Wang himself removing the cloth from his face, and the coffin was burned. The vanquished ruler was treated with the ceremony due to a prince.
A poet of the Tang Dynasty wrote a few lines on this surrender:—
Adown the stream ride storeyed warships tall; With massive chains some seek to stop their way. But Chinling’s independence fades away And soon “We yield” is signalled from the wall.
Full oft I think of bygone days and sigh, Along the stream, unmoved, the old hills rest, While I am homeless on the earth’s broad breast, Where grim old forts stand grey beneath the sky.
So Wu was subdued and ceased to exist as a state; its four provinces, eighty-three districts, three hundred and ten departments, five hundred and twenty-three thousand families, thirty-two thousand military officers, two hundred and thirteen thousand soldiers, two million three hundred thousand inhabiants, its stores of grain and over five thousand ships, all fell booty to the victorious Chin Dynasty. In the women’s quarters of the palace were found more than five thousand persons.
Proclamations were issued; treasuries and storehouses were sealed. T‘ao Chün’s army soon melted away without striking a blow. Wan Yu and Wang Jung submitted quietly. Wang Chün was greatly elated at his success.
When the Commander-in-chief arrived there were great feastings and rewards for the soldiers. The granaries were opened and doles of grain issued to the people, so that they also were glad of peace.
One city only stood out; Chienp‘ing, under the Prefect Wu Yen. However, he too surrendered when he heard the capital had fallen.
The tidings of all these successes reached Loyang just at the celebration of the birthday of the Chin Emperor, and the rejoicings and congratulations were redoubled. At one of the banquets the Emperor did honour to the memory of the late Yang Hu. Raising his wine cup, and in a voice broken by emotion, he said, “To-day’s success is the merit of Yang T‘ai-fu. I regret that he is not here to share our rejoicings.”
Sun Hsiu, a General of Cavalry in Wu, went away from the court and wailed, facing the south.
​“Alas, ye blue heavens! What manner of man is this Sun Hao to yield thus the heritage of his family, won by the sword of his forbears in the brave days that are past?”
Meantime the victors marched homeward, and Sun Hao went to Loyang to present himself at court, and in his capacity of minister he prostrated himself at the feet of the Emperor of the Chin Dynasty in the Hall of Audience. He was allowed a seat.
“I set that seat for you long since,” said the Emperor.
“Thy servant also set a seat for Your Majesty in the south,' retorted Sun Hao.
The Emperor laughed loudly. Then Chia Ch‘ung turned to Sun Hao and said, “I hear, Sir, that when you were in the south they gouged out people’s eyes and flayed their faces; what crimes were so punished?
“Murders of princes, and malicious speech and disloyal conduct were so punished.”
Chia was silenced, for he was greatly ashamed.
Sun Hao was created Marquis of Kueiming. His sons and grandsons received minor ranks and other grades were conferred upon his ministers who had followed him in his surrender. The sons and grandsons of the late Prime Minister of Wu, Chang T‘i, who had perished in battle, were given ranks, and the victorious leader, Wang Chün, was rewarded with the title “Pillar of the State.” And many other ranks were conferred.
The tale is told. The Three States have been rewelded into one empire under the rule of Ssŭma Yen of the Chin Dynasty. And here we may say as in the beginning:—“States fall asunder and re-unite; empires wax and wane.”
A poet has summed up the history of these stirring years in a poem.
It was the dawning of a glorious day When first the Founder of the House of Han Hsienyang’s proud palace entered. Noontide came When Kuang-Wu the imperial rule restored. Alas, that Hsien succeeded in full time And saw the setting of the sun of power! Ho Chin, the feeble, fell beneath the blows Of palace minions. Tung Cho, vile though bold, Then ruled the court. The plot Wang Yün devised To oust him, failed, recoiled on his own head. The Li and Kuo lit up the flame of war And brigands swarmed like ants through all the land. Then rose the valiant and deployed their might. The Suns carved out a kingdom in the east, Honan the Yüans strove to make their own. The Lius went west and seized on Pa and Shu, Another Liu laid hold on Ching and Hsiang, Chang Miao, Chang Lu, in turn held Chêng by force. Each of three others seized upon a fief; T‘ao Chien, Han Hsiu and Kungsun Ts‘an, the bold.
But overtopping all Ts‘ao Ts‘ao the strong Became first minister, and to his side, Drew many able men. He swayed the court, Without, he held the nobles in his hand; By force of arms he held the capital Against all rivals. Of imperial stock Was born Yüan-tê, who with sworn brothers twain Made oath the dynasty should be restored. These wandered homeless east and west for years, A petty force. But Destiny was kind And led Liu Pei to Nanyang’s rustic cot, Where lay Reposing Dragon, he who knew Already that the empire must be rent. Twice Liu essayed in vain to see the sage; Once more he went, and then his fortune turned. Chingchou fell to him, followed Ssuch‘uan, A fitting base to build an empire on. Alas! He ruled there only three short years, Then left his only son to K‘ung-ming’s care. Full nobly K‘ung-ming played protector’s part, Unceasing strove to win first place for Shu; But Fate forbade; one night for aye his star Went down behind the rampart of the hills. Chiang Wei the strong inherited his task And struggled on for years. But Chung and Têng Attacked the Hans' last stronghold, and it fell. Five sons of Ts‘ao sat on the dragon throne, And Ssǔma snatched the sceptre from Ts‘ao Huan. Before him bowed the kings of Shu and Wu, Content to forfeit kingly power for life. All down the ages rings the note of change, For fate so rules it; none escapes its sway. The kingdoms three have vanished as a dream, The useless misery is ours to grieve.
The End