# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 115

CHAPTER CXV.
The King Listens to Slander and Recalls His Army; Chiang Wei Takes Command of the Cantonments and Escapes Death.
In the autumn of the fifth year of Ching-Yao, Chiang Wei was occupied with preparations for the renewal of an attack; mending the hill roads, gathering stores and mobilising his boats on the waterways of Hanchung. These things done, he asked permission to go again to the attack, saying, “Although I have not been wholly victorious nor accomplished great things, yet I have put fear into the hearts of the Wei armies. Our men have been long under training, and they must now be used, or the army will go to pieces for lack of employment. The men are ready to die, the officers prepared for all risks and I am determined to conquer or perish.”
The king did not consent at once. As he was hesitating, Chiao Chou stood forth and said, “I have observed the heavens. I have seen the men of Shu scattered over the wilds and the leader stars dull and obscured. This expedition will be disastrous, and I hope Your Majesty will not approve.”
The king replied, “Let us see the results of this campaign; if it fail, then the war shall cease.”
Chiao resented the rejection of his advice, withdrew to his home and retired on the pretext of illness.
As the final preparations were being made, Chiang Wei said to Liao Hua, “We are pledged to get through to the capital this time: what do you advise to start with?”
“I dare not presume to advise you, General. For years we have been fighting and giving the people no rest. In Têng Ai we find a most formidable and resourceful opponent and an extraordinarily capable man, so that you must exert yourself to the very utmost.”
Chiang Wei was annoyed. Said he, “The late minister made six attempts, all for the state. I have attacked eight times. Was any one of those attacks to serve my private ends? This time I go to attack T‘aoyang, and no one shall say me nay. I will punish opposition with death.”
He left Liao Hua in charge of the base in Hanchung and marched with thirty legions. His movements were reported in the Ch‘ishan camps, and Têng’s spies confirmed the news.
​It happened that Ssŭma Wang was with Têng Ai discussing military matters, and the former, when he heard it, said, “That move is a blind; he does not mean it. What he really intends is an attack on Ch‘ishan.”
“However, he has really gone to T‘aoyang,” said Têng.
“How can you know?”
“Formerly he has always opened with a march to that part of the country where we have stored supplies. T‘aoyang has no stores, so he thinks we shall not have taken care for its defence as we shall concentrate our efforts on Ch‘ishan. But if he can take that place he can collect stores there, and get into touch with the Ch‘iang and finally work out some grand plan.”
“Supposing this true, what should we do?”
“I advise the abandonment of this place and a march in two bodies toward T‘aoyang. I know a small town on the Hou River, not far from T‘aoyang, which is the throat of the place. You go to T‘aoyang, secrete your force and open the gates. Then act as I shall tell you presently. I will lie in wait at Hou River. We shall score a victory.”
An officer of low rank was left in charge of Ch‘ishan station when the main body left.
Meanwhile Hsiahou Pa led the van of the army toward T‘aoyang. As he drew near he noticed the place seemed to have no defences; not a flagstaff reared its head. The gates stood wide open. He was too wary to go straight in however, though his captains agreed that the city looked empty. A few people were running away along the southern road.
Hsiahou rode south and saw there that the north-west road, at a little distance from the city, was crowded with fugitives.
“The city is really empty,” said Hsiahou.
He led the way in all ready to fight, and the men followed. As they came near to the curtain wall, however, a bomb exploded. At this sound the drums beat, trumpets blared, and flags suddenly appeared. At the same moment the drawbridge rose.
“Caught!” said Hsiahou.
As he turned to retire, the arrows and stones flew down in clouds, and under these Hsiahou and many of his men lost their lives.
Most able strategist and brave, Hsiahou, outwitted here By Têng, more prudent still, and slain, Deserves a pitying tear.
The flights of arrows from the ramparts was followed by a sortie, which broke up the force of Shu entirely, and the men fled. However, Chiang Wei came up and drove off Ssǔma ​Wang, and the men of Shu camped beside the walls. He was very grieved at the loss of his able colleague.
That night Têng Ai came up secretly and attacked the camp. At the same time the men within the city made a sortie. Chiang Wei could not resist the double attack, and left the field. He marched some twenty li and camped.
Twice beaten, the men of Shu were very downcast. The general tried to console them with the truisms and platitudes of war, the need to bear misfortune as well as enjoy good fortune, and such sayings; but he wound up his speech with severity:
“But remember, no mutiny! He who talks of retreat will suffer death.”
Then Chang I said, “With so many men of Wei here, their camp at Ch‘ishan must be undefended. I propose, General, that while you continue the contest here I go to try to capture the nine camps. If I succeed, Ch‘angan will be at our mercy.”
The second division of the army was detached to march on Ch‘ishan, and Chiang Wei went down to the river to provoke Têng Ai into fighting. The challenge this time was accepted forthwith, but after several bouts without a decision, both retired to their camps.
For days after this, Chiang challenged again and again, but Têng declined and would not fight. The Shu soldiers howled abuse and hurled insults at their opponents, but all without effect.
Then Têng thought within him, “There must be some reason for this persistence. I think they have sent an army to try to seize Ch‘ishan while they hold me here. The force there is insufficient, and I shall have to go to the rescue.”
Têng called his son Chung, and said, “Hold this place most carefully. Let them challenge as they may, do not go out. To-night I go to the help of Chʻishan.”
It was night, and Chiang Wei was in his tent, intent upon his plans, when he was disturbed by a great shouting and drumming. They told him Têng Ai had suddenly appeared. The captains asked leave to go out to fight.
“Let no one move!” said Chiang Wei.
The fact was Têng Ai had only made a demonstration at the camp of Shu on his way to reinforce Ch‘ishan.
Then Chiang Wei said to his officers, “The attack of Têng Ai was a feint; he has certainly gone to relieve Ch‘ishan.”
So Chiang decided to go to the aid of Chang I. He left Fu Ch‘ien to guard the city.
Chang I was then actually attacking the Wei position on Ch‘ishan. The defenders were few, and it looked as though they must soon give in, when the sudden appearance of Têng Ai made all the difference. The onslaught of Têng’s force drove off Chang I, and he was forced to take refuge behind ​the hills. No road was open to him. When things looked worst he saw the Wei soldiers suddenly falling back in confusion.
“General Chiang has come!” they told him.
Chang I took the opportunity to return to the attack, and the tables were turned. Têng Ai lost the game and retired into his camp, which Chiang Wei surrounded.
Here a digression is necessary. In Ch'êngtu the king fell daily more and more under the malign influence of Huang Hao, who encouraged him in every form of self-indulgence and ministered to every desire for luxury and dissipation. Government was left to look after itself.
A certain minister, Liu Yen, had a very beautiful wife. One day she went into the palace to visit the Empress, who kept her there a whole month. Liu Yen was not without suspecting an intrigue with the Latter Ruler and took a brutal revenge. He bound the lady, and made five hundred of his soldiers shame her to the last degree by beating her on the face with their boots. She swooned many times.
The story got to the ears of the king, and he ordered the officials concerned to investigate and decide the crime and its punishment. The judges found that 'soldiers were not proper persons to administer a punishment to a woman, and the face was not a portion of the body to be mortified; the author of this crime ought to be put to death.' Wherefore Liu Yen was beheaded.
Thereafter women were forbidden to go to Court. As time went on the king indulged in unbridled sensuality, and gradually all good men left the government, giving place to the meanest, who soon swarmed there.
Among the sycophants of Huang Hao was a certain incapable and worthless general named Yen Yü, whose lack of merit had not stood in the way of preferment. Hearing of Chiang’s defeats at Ch‘ishan, he got his friend the eunuch to propose to the king that Chiang should be recalled and he himself sent in command. The king agreed, and the edict was issued.
One day, as Chiang Wei was working out his plan of attack on the camps of Wei, three edicts came, all to the same effect, recalling him to the capital. Disobedience being out of the question, Chiang Wei ceased all operations and sent the T‘aoyang force back first. Then gradually he withdrew the others.
Têng Ai in his camp wondered at the rolling of drums one night, but next day he heard that the Shu camps were empty. However, he suspected some ruse and did not pursue.
Arrived in Hanchung, the army halted, and its leader went on to the capital in company with the messenger who had brought his orders. Here he waited ten days, and still the king held no Court. He began to suspect mischief.
​One day near the palace gate he met a secretary, Ch‘i Chêng, whom he knew, and asked whether he knew the reason for his recall.
“What General! Do you not know? Huang Hao wanted to push Yen Yü into favour, so he intrigued for your recall. Now they have found out Têng Ai is too clever to be tackled, and so they are not fighting any more.”
“I shall certainly have to put this eunuch fellow out of the way,” said Chiang Wei.
“Hush! You are the successor of the great minister, the man to whom he bequeathed his unfinished task. You are too important to act hastily or indiscreetly. If the Emperor withdrew his support, it would go ill with you.”
“Sir, what you say is true,” replied Chiang.
However, soon after this Chiang, with a small party, got into the palace. The king was enjoying himself with the eunuch in the gardens. They told Huang Hao, who at once hid himself. Chiang approached his master and prostrated himself, saying, “Why did Your Majesty recall me? I had the enemy in my power at Ch‘ishan when the triple edict came.”
The king hummed and hawed, but made no reply. Then Chiang Wei began his real grievance.
“This Huang Hao is wicked and artful and seems to have the last say in everything. The times of the Emperor Ling and The Ten have returned. Your Majesty may recall Chang Jang or Chao Kao, but if you will only slay this man the Court will be purified and you may return gloriously to the home of your fathers.”
The king smiled. “Huang Hao is but a minor servant, one who runs errands for me. If he tried to do as you say, he could not. I always wondered why Tung Yün seemed to hate poor Hao so much. I pray you, noble Sir, to take no notice of him.”
“Unless Your Majesty gets rid of him, evil is very close,” said Chiang, beating his head upon the ground.
The king replied, “If you love anyone, you want him to live; if you dislike him, you desire his death; can you not bear with my one poor eunuch?”
He bade one of the attendants go and call Huang Hao. When he approached the pavilion, the king told him to ask pardon of Chiang Wei.
Huang Hao prostrated himself and wept, saying, “I am always in attendance upon the Sacred One; that is all I do. I never meddle in state affairs. I pray you, General, to pay no heed to what people say. If you desire my death, I am in your hands, but pity me.”
And tears ran down his cheeks. Chiang Wei went away in ill humour. Outside he sought his friend Ch‘i Chêng and told him what had happened.
​“General, you are in grave danger,” said Chʻi. “And if you fall, the country falls with you.”
“Can you advise me?” said Chiang. “How can I secure the state and myself?”
Ch‘i replied, “There is a place of refuge for you in Shênsi, and that is Miaochung. It is a rich country, and you can make a cantonment there like the Marquis of Wu did. Request the Emperor to let you go thither. You can gather in corn for your armies, you can secure all the west of Shênsi, you can keep Wei from troubling Hanchung, you will retain your military authority, so that no one will dare intrigue against you, and you will be safe. Thus you can ensure the safety of the state and yourself. You should lose no time.”
“Your speech is gold and jewels,” said Chiang Wei, gratefully.
Without loss of time, Chiang memorialised the throne and obtained the king’s consent. Then he returned to Hanchung, assembled his officers and told them his plans.
“Our many expeditions have failed to achieve success owing to lack of supplies. Now I am about to take eight legions to Miaochung to form a cantonment and grow corn ready for the next expedition. You are spent with much fighting and may now repose while collecting grain and guarding Hanchung. The armies of Wei are from home and have to drag their grain over the mountains. They will be worn out with the labour and must soon retire. That will be the time to smite them, and success must be ours.”
Hu Chi was set over Hanshouch'êng, Wang Han over Yoch'êng, Chiang Pin over Hanch'êng and Chiang Shu with Fu Ch‘ien went to guard the passes. After these arrangements had been made, Chiang Wei went off to Miaochung to grow grain and mature his plans.
Têng Ai heard of these dispositions and discovered that the armies of Shu were distributed in two score camps, each connected with the next like the joints of a huge serpent. He sent out his spies to survey the country, and they made a map which was sent to the capital.
But when the Duke of Chin saw the memorial and the map, he was very angry.
“This Chiang Wei has invaded our country many times, and we have been unable to destroy him. He is the one sorrow of my heart.”
Said Chia Ch‘ung, “He has carried on the work of K‘ungming only too thoroughly, and it is hard to force him back. What you need is some crafty bravo to assassinate him, so remove this constant menace of war.”
But Hsün Hsü said, “That is not the way. Liu Ch‘an, the King of Shu, is steeped in dissipation and has given all his confidence to one favourite, the eunuch Huang Hao. The ​higher officers of state are concerned solely with their own safety and Chiang Wei has gone to Miaochung only that he may save his life. If you send an able leader, victory is certain. Where is the need for an assassin’s dagger?”
“These are excellent words,” said Ssŭma Chao, with a laugh, “but if I would attack Shu where is the leader?”
“Têng Ai is the ablest leader of the day,” said Hsün. “Give him Chung Hui as his second, and the thing is done.”
“Exactly what I think,” said Ssŭma. So he summoned Chung Hui and said to him, “I desire to send you as leader against Wu; can you go?”
“My lord’s design is not against Wu, but Shu,” was his reply.
“How well you know my inmost thought!” said Ssǔma. “But how would you conduct an expedition against Shu?”
“Thinking that my lord would desire to attack Shu, I have already prepared plans. Here they are.”
He laid out his maps, and thereon were shown the camps, and storehouses and roads all complete.
Ssǔma was highly pleased. “You are an excellent leader,” said he. “What say you to going with Têng Ai?”
“Ssuch‘uan is large, and there is space for more than one set of operations. Têng Ai can be sent along another line.”
Chung Hui was given the title of “Conqueror of the West” and the insignia of a Commander-in-chief over the forces within the pass and control of the armies of Ch‘ing, Hsü, Yen, Yü, Ching and Yang. At the same time a commission was sent to Têng Ai giving him command of the forces without the pass, with the title of “Conqueror of the West.” And the time for an attack on Shu was settled.
When Ssǔma Chao was settling the plans in the court, the General Têng Tun said, “Why are you sending our armies into a distant and dangerous country and thus inviting trouble? Chiang Wei has invaded this country many times, and the wars have cost us many lives. We should rather seek safety in defence.
“I am sending a righteous army against an unrighteous king; how dare you oppose my designs?”
He ordered the executioners to put Têng Tun to death forthwith, and they soon returned to lay his head at the foot of the steps. This frightened all those present, and they turned pale.
Ssŭma said, “It is six years since I conquered the east, and the six years have been spent in preparation. I have long intended to reduce both Wu and Shu. Now I will destroy Shu, and then like a flood I will descend upon Wu and conquer that. Thus will I destroy both Kuo and Yü. I can tell very nearly what forces they have in Shu. There are eight or nine legions in the garrison of the capital, four or five on the frontier, while Chiang Wei has about six in his cantonments. ​Against them we can pit ten legions under Têng Ai, enough to hold Chiang Wei and keep him from moving east, and Chung Hui has twenty or thirty legions of veterans. And they will go in three divisions straight into Hanchung. The King of Shu is a blind fool with his frontier cities in ruins, his courtiers and women quaking with fear. He will not last long.”
The assembly praised this perspicacity.
Chung Hui marched as soon as he received his seal of office. Lest his real object should be known, he gave out that his force was directed against Wu, and to give colour to the pretence he had many large ships put in hand. He also sent T‘ang Tzŭ to Tênglai and along the sea coast to collect vessels.
Even his chief, Ssŭma, was deceived and called him to ask why he was collecting ships.
He replied, “If Shu hears that we intend to attack the west they will ask assistance from Wu. So I pretend to attack Wu, and they will not dare to move under a year. When Shu is beaten, the ships will be ready and useful for an expedition into the east.”
Ssŭma was pleased. The day chosen for the march was the third day of the seventh mouth. Ssŭma escorted his leader out of the city for ten li and then took his leave.
A certain Shao T‘i, the “Western Ts‘ao-chüan,” whispered a word of warning.
“My lord has sent Chung Hui with a large army against Shu. I think he is too ambitious to be trusted with such powers?”
“Think you I do not know?” said Ssǔma.
“Then why have you sent him alone and without a colleague?”
Ssŭma said a few words to Shao T‘i which put his doubts at rest.
Chung went alone, although his master knew, Occasion serving, he would be untrue.
The next chapter will tell the reader what Shao T‘i heard.