# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 76

CHAPTER LXXVI.
Hsu Fights on the Mien River; Kuan Retreats to Maich'êng.
The fall of Chingchou put Mi Fang in a quandary, and before he could decide upon any course his ancient colleague Fu Shih-jên came to see him. He was admitted, and when asked why he had come he blurted out his business without beating about the bush.
“I am faithful enough, but I got into difficulties and danger and could not hold on, so I have surrendered to Wu. And I advise you to do the same.”
“You and I have both fed on the bounty of the Prince of Hanchung, and I cannot understand how you can turn against him.”
“Kuan Yü went away hating both of us intensely, and even if he comes back victorious I do not think he will forgive us. Just think it over.' ”
“My brother and I have followed the prince these many years, and I do not like leaving him like this.”
Mi Fang hesitated. Before he could make up his mind, there came a messenger to say that the army was short of grain and he had been sent to demand white rice for the soldiers. Nanchün and Kungan were to send ten myriad tan at once. Delay would be most severely punished.
This sudden demand was a shock to Mi Fang. “Where am I to get the rice?” said he despairingly to his friend and tempter. “Chingchou is now in the hands of Wu.”
“Do not dilly-dally,” said Fu Shih-jên. Thereupon he drew his sword and slew the messenger as he stood in the hall.
“What have you done?” cried Mi Fang.
“Kuan wanted to slay us two and has forced me to this. Are we to fold our hands and await death? Either you give in at once and go over to Wu, or you will be put to death by Kuan Yü.”
Just then they heard that Lü Mêng’s men had actually reached the city wall. Mi Fang saw that nothing could save his life but desertion, so he went out with Fu and gave in his allegiance to Lü Mêng, by whom he was led to Sun Ch'üan. Sun Ch'üan gave both of them presents, after which he proceeded to restore order and to reward his army for their services.
​At the time that great discussion about Chingchou was going on in the capital, a messenger arrived with a letter from Sun Ch'üan. It told the tale of the acquisition of Chingchou and begged Ts‘ao Ts‘ao to send an army to attack Kuan Yü in the rear, enjoining the utmost secrecy.
At the meeting of advisers that Ts‘ao Ts‘ao summoned to consultation, Tung Chao said, “Now that the relief of Fanch'êng is contemplated it would be well to let the besieged know, so that they may not yield to depression. Moreover, if Kuan Yü hears that Chingchou is in the hands of Wu he will come back to try to recover it. Then let Hsü Huang take the chance to attack, and our victory will be complete.”
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao agreed that the plan was good, and so he sent a messenger to urge Hsü Huang to attack. Ts‘ao himself led a large force to Yanglup‘o, south of Loyang, to rescue Tsao Jên.
Hsü Huang was sitting in his tent when they told him that a messenger from the Prince of Wei had arrived. The messenger was called in and said. “The prince has led an army to Loyang, and he wishes you to hasten to attack Kuan Yü in order to relieve Fanch'êng.”
Just then the scouts came to report that Kuan Yü had encamped at Yench'êng and Liao Hua at Ssuchung. The enemy had built a line of twelve stockades. Hsü Huang ordered two of his lieutenants to Yench'êng to masquerade as if he himself was in command, by showing his ensigns. Hsü himself, at the head of a few veterans, went along the Mien River to attack Yench'êng in the rear.
When Kuan P‘ing heard of the approach of Hsü Huang he prepared his own division to meet him. When both sides were arrayed, Kuan P‘ing rode out and engaged one Hsü Shang. After three encounters Hsü Shang had the worst of it and fled. Then the other lieutenant, Lü Chien, went out. He fought half a dozen bouts and also ran away. Thereupon Kuan P‘ing went in pursuit and smote the flying enemy for twenty li. But then there was an alarm of fire within the city, and Kuan P‘ing knew that he had been inveigled into the pursuit and was a victim. So he turned and set out for the city again. On his way he met a body of troops, and standing under the great standard was Hsü Huang.
Hsü Huang shouted out, “Kuan P‘ing, my worthy nephew, it is strange that you do not recognise death when it stares you in the face. Your Chingchou has fallen into the hands of Wu and yet you act so madly.”
Kuan P‘ing, whirling his sword, just rode hard at Hsü Huang, and they engaged. But after the third bout there was a tremendous shouting among the soldiers, for the flames within the city burst up higher than before. Kuan P‘ing could not follow up his desire to continue the fight, but cut ​his way out and made a dash for Ssuchung, where Liao Hua received him with the news of the disaster to Chingchou.
“People say that Chingchou has fallen to Lü Mêng, and the news has frightened the whole army; what is to be done?” said he.
“It is only a malicious rumour; do not let it spread. If any one repeats it, put him to death.”
Just then a man came running in to say that Hsü Huang was attacking the first stockade on the north.
“If that goes,” said Kuan P‘ing, “the remainder will follow. But as we have the river at our back, they will not dare attack this. Let us go to the rescue.”
So Liao Hua summoned his subordinate leaders and gave them orders to hold the camp and make a signal if the enemy came.
“There is no danger here,” said they. “The camp is defended by a tenfold line of 'deer-horns' (chevaux de frise): even a bird could not get in.”
Kuan P‘ing and Liao Hua mustered all the veterans they had and went away to the first stockade. Seeing the Wei soldiers camped on a low hill, Kuan P‘ing said to his colleague, “Those men are stationed in an unsafe place; let us raid their camp to-night.”
“You take half the force, General, and I will remain to keep the camp,” said Liao Hua.
When night fell, the attacking force went out. But on reaching the camp not a man opposed them. The camp was empty. Then Kuan P‘ing knew he had been deceived, and turned to retreat. He was at once attacked on two sides by Hsü Shang and Lü Chien. Unable to stand, his men ran for the camp. The men of Wei followed, and presently the camp was surrounded. They were compelled to abandon the position and set off for Ssuchung. As they drew near they saw torches, and presently knew by the ensigns displayed that the camp had also fallen to the enemy. Retiring, they hastened along the high road toward Fanch'êng, but presently their way was barred by a force under Hsü Huang himself. By dint of hard fighting they got away and returned to their main camp, and Kuan P‘ing went to his father.
“Hsü Huang has got possession of Yench'êng. Ts‘ao’s main army is on the way in three divisions, and many say that Chingchou is in the enemy’s hands.”
Kuan Yü bade him be silent. “This is a fabrication of the enemy, said he, “but it may dishearten the soldiers. We know Lü Mêng is ill, and they have appointed that impractical fellow Lu Hsün to succeed him at Luk‘ou. There is nothing to fear.”
He was soon undeceived. The news came that Hsü Huang had arrived. At once Kuan Yü bade them saddle his charger.
​“Father, you are not strong enough to go into the battle,” said Kuan P‘ing.
“Hsü Huang and I were once friends, and I know what he can do and not do. I will give him the chance to retire, and if he does not take it then I shall just slay him as a warning to the others.”
Mounting his charger, Kuan Yü rode out as impetuously as of yore, and the sight of the old warrior made to quake the hearts of the men of Wei. When he came close enough to his enemy, Kuan checked his steed and said, “Where is my friend Hsü?”
As a reply, the gate of the camp opened and Hsü Huang appeared under the standard. With a low bow he said, “Some years have passed since I met you, most excellent Marquis, but I had not expected to see you so grey. I have not forgotten the old brave days, when we were together and you taught me so much, and I am very grateful. New your fame has spread throughout the whole of China, and your old friends cannot but praise you. I am indeed glad that I have the happiness to see you.”
Kuan Yü replied, “We have been excellent friends, Mingkung; better than most. But why have you pressed my son so hardly of late?”
Hsü Huang suddenly turned to the officers about him and cried fiercely, “I would give a thousand for this Yün-ch‘ang’s head.”
Kuan Yü, greatly shocked, said, “What did you say that for?”
“Because to-day I am on state business, and I have no inclination to let private friendship over-ride my public duty.”
As he said this, he whirled his battle-axe and rode at Kuan Yü, who, greatly enraged, threw up his great sword to strike. They fought a half score bouts, but although his skill lacked nothing of its pristine vigour and excelled all the world, the old warrior’s right arm was still weak from the wound. Kuan P‘ing saw that his father failed somewhat, and so hastily beat the gong for retreat. Kuan Yü rode back.
Suddenly the noise of a great shouting was heard; it came from the troops of the city, for Ts‘ao Jên, having heard of the arrival of men of his own side, had made a sortie and was about to attack to help Hsü Huang. His men fell on, and the army of Chingchou were routed. Kuan Yü, with as many of his officers as could, fled away along the banks of the Hsiang River, hotly pursued by the army of Wei. Crossing the river, he made for Hsiangyang. Thence he marched for Kungan. But the scouts told him that that city was in the hands of Wu. Then some of the men he had despatched for supplies came in and reported the murder of their officer and the further treachery of Mi Fang. The story ​filled him with boundless rage. It was too much. The wound re-opened, and he fell in a swoon.
“Wang Fu, you were right,” said he when he recovered con sciousness. “How I regret that I did not heed what you said! And now———.”
“But why were the beacon fires not lighted?” continued he presently.
“Lü Mêng’s men in the guise of traders came over the river. There were soldiers hidden in the koulu ships, and they seized the beacon guards, so preventing them from kindling the fires.”
Kuan Yü sighed. Beating the ground with his foot, he said, “Indeed I have fallen into their trap. How shall I look my brother in the face?”
Then outspake the commissariat officer Chao Lei, saying, “We are in straits. Send to Ch'êngtu for help, and let us take the land road to Chingchou to try to recover it.”
So three messengers were sent by different routes to ask for help, while the army set out to return to Chingchou, Kuan Yü leading and Liao Hua with Kuan P‘ing keeping the rear.
The siege of Fanch'êng being thus raised, Ts‘ao Jên went to see his master. With tears he acknowledged his fault and asked pardon.
“It was the will of heaven, and no fault of yours,” said Ts‘ao Ts‘ao; and he rewarded the armies.
When he visited Ssuchung and had inspected the captured stockades, he remarked on the defences. “Hsü Huang was very clever to overcome these. With my thirty years of war I should not have dared to penetrate such opposition. He is valiant and wise, and both in a high degree.”
“Aye,” said they with him, for they could not but agree.
Ts‘ao’s army marched back to Mop‘o and there camped. When Hsü Huang returned, Ts‘ao went out of the stockade to meet him, and noted with joy the excellent order and discipline that his army showed. Every man was in his place, the ranks perfectly kept, all without a trace of disorder.
“He has the spirit of Chou A-fu,” said Ts‘ao, and on the spot conferred on his captain the title of “Pacificator of the South.” Hsü was sent soon after to share in the defence of Hsiangyang to meet Kuan Yü's army.
Chingchou being still in turmoil, Ts‘ao remained at Mop‘o waiting for news.
Kuan Yü found himself at a standstill on the road to Chingchou with the army of Wu in front and the men of Wei coming up behind. What was to be done? He discussed the position with Chao Lei, who proposed a halt to try to shame Lü Mêng into aiding him.
Said he, “When Lü Mêng was at Luk‘ou he used to write to you often, and you agreed to join hands in the destruction of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. Now he is a traitor and fighting on the other ​side. Send a letter and reproach him. Perhaps we may get a satisfactory reply.”
So the letter was written and sent. Meanwhile, by Lü Mêng’s special command, the most complete protection was given to the families of all the officers who were serving under Kuan Yü, and they were kept supplied with all they required. Even the ailing members of their households were treated by physicians free of charge. The result was that they were quite won over to the new order of things, and there was no attempt to disturb it. When Kuan Yü's letter came, the messenger was led into the city and well treated. When Lü read the letter, he said to the bearer thereof, “You must understand the different circumstances. When your general and I were leagued together it was a personal matter between us two. Now things have changed. I am sent here with certain orders and am not my own master. I would trouble you, O Messenger, to return and explain thus to your master and in good words.”
The bearer of the letter was entertained at a banquet and sent to repose himself in the guest-house, where the families of the absent officers sought him to have news of their husbands and fathers. Moreover, they brought him letters and gave him messages for the officers, and the whole tenor of these letters and messages was that they were all in good health, all their needs were supplied and they lacked nothing. When he left the city, Lü Mêng himself escorted him to the outskirts and set him on his way.
On his return to the army, he gave to Kuan Yü the message of Lü Mêng and told him that the family were all well and safe and well cared for. This, however, did not greatly please Kuan Yü, for he saw in this merely a plan to gain favour and popularity.
“The brigand! If I cannot slay him while I live, I will after I am dead. My hate shall not go unappeased.”
He roughly dismissed the messenger, who went out and was at once surrounded by those whose families were in the city and who desired to have news of them. And when he gave them the letters and messages and told them all were well, there was great rejoicing among the men in the camp, and kindly feelings for Lü Mêng prevailed. And therewith died down the spirit of fighting.
Kuan Yü led the army to attack Chingchou, but day by day the men deserted and ran away to the very city they were moving to attack. So day by day Kuan’s bitterness and anger increased, and he advanced in angry haste. One day there was a great shouting and the noise of drums, and he found his way blocked.
“Why do you not surrender, friend Kuan?” said the leader of this body, Chiang Ch‘in by name.
​“Could I give in to a rebel, I, a servant of the Hans and a leader of their troops?” roared Kuan Yü in a passion.
Thereupon he whipped his horse forward and swung up his sword to strike. However, Chiang Ch‘in would not fight. The two exchanged a few blows, and Chiang fled. Kuan Yü followed. When he had gone a long way, there suddenly appeared from a gully near him Han Tang, while Chou T‘ai came out from the other side. Thereupon Chiang Ch‘in wheeled round and once more came to do battle, so that three forces were opposed to Kuan Yü. Unable to withstand these, he retreated.
Before he had gone very far he saw signs of many people bivouacking among the hills, and presently made out, on a huge white banner that flapped in the breeze, the words, “Natives of Chingchou,” and the people about were calling out, “All the inhabitants of this place have surrendered.” Kuan Yü felt like rushing up and cutting these people to pieces, but just then two other cohorts appeared led by Ting Fêng and Hsü Shêng, who supported Chiang Ch‘in. The three bodies of men then set on with shouting and loud beating of drums that seemed to make the very earth tremble. And Kuan Yü was like the kernel in a nut, quite surrounded.
This was not all. He saw the number of his followers diminishing every moment. He fought on till dusk, and looking about him he saw all the hills crowded with Chingchou folk and heard them calling brother for brother and son for father, till his soldiers' hearts had melted within them. One by one they ran to their relatives, heedless of their leader and his voice. Presently he had but three hundred left, but with them he kept up the battle till the third watch. Then there was another shouting in another note, for his faithful leaders, Kuan P‘ing, his son, and Liao Hua, came to his help. And they rescued him.
“The soldiers' hearts are all melted,” said Kuan P‘ing.
“We must find some place wherein to camp till help can arrive. There is Maich‘êng, small, but sufficient; let us camp there.”
Kuan Yü consented, and the exhausted army hurried thither as quickly as they could.
The small force was divided among the four gates. Here it seemed as though they could find safety till help could be obtained from Shangyung, which was near.
But disappointments dogged them. Very soon the army of Wu came up and laid siege to the city.
“Who will try to break through and go away to Shangyung for assistance?” asked Kuan Yü.
“I will go,” said Liao Hua.
“And I will escort you past the danger zone,” said Kuan P‘ing.
​Kuan Yü wrote his letter, which Liao Hua concealed next his skin, and having eaten a full meal, he rode out at the gate. A certain leader of the enemy, Ting Fêng, tried to check him, but Kuan P‘ing fought vigorously and drove him away. So Liao reached the city, while Kuan P‘ing returned. Then they barred the gates and went not forth again.
Now, having captured Shangyung, Liu Fêng and Mêng Ta had remained to guard it, and the Prefect had surrendered. Liu Fêng had been created an assistant general with Mêng Ta to aid him. When they heard of the defeat of Kuan Yü they took counsel what to do. When Liao Hua came, he was admitted into the city. He told the tale of Kuan Yü's straits, and asked for help.
“Kuan Yü is closely besieged in Maich'êng. Help from the west will be a long time in coming, so I have been sent to beg your assistance. I hope you will march the Shangyung troops thither as quickly as possible, for any delay will be fatal.”
Liu Fêng replied, “Sir, go to the rest-house for a time till we can decide.”
So he went, and the two leaders talked over the matter.
Liu Fêng said, “This is bad news; what is to be done?”
“Wu is very powerful,” replied his colleague. “Now they have control over the whole district save this small clod of earth called Maich'êng. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao is at hand with half a hundred legions, and we cannot stand against the two mighty houses. I say we must not move.”
“I know all this. But Kuan Yü is my uncle, and I cannot bear to sit still and not try to save him. ”
“So you hold him as an uncle!” said Mêng Ta with a smile. “Yet I do not think he holds you much as a nephew. When the Prince of Hanchung created him a generalissimo he was greatly annoyed. And after the prince had accepted his new dignity and was nominating his heir, I hear he consulted K‘ung-ming, who said the affair was one to be decided within the family and declined to advise. Then the prince sent to ask Kuan Yü's advice. Did he name you? Not at all. You were only a son by adoption and could have no place in the succession. Further, he advised that you be sent to a distance lest you might cause trouble. This is common knowledge, and I am surprised that you are ignorant of it. Yet to-day you make capital out of the relationship and are willing to run a great risk to support it.”
“Granted that what you say is true, still what reply can we give?”
“Simply say that this city is still unsettled and you dare not move lest it be lost.”
Liu Fêng took his colleague’s view, sent for the messenger and told him. Liao Hua was greatly disappointed. He threw ​himself on the ground and knocked his head, imploring assistance.
“If you act thus, there is an end of Kuan Yü,” cried he.
“Will a cup of water extinguish a waggon load of blazing wood?” said Mêng Ta. “Hasten back and await patiently for the coming of help from the west.”
Liao Hua renewed his entreaties. The two commanders simply rose, shook out their sleeves and left him. Liao Hua saw that things had gone against him and thought his best course would be to go at once to Ch'êngtu. He rode out of the city cursing its defenders and went away west.
Kuan Yü from his fortress looked anxiously, but vainly, for the coming of the expected aid. He was in a sorry plight. His men numbered but a few hundred, many wounded; there was no food.
The someone came to the foot of the wall and, calling out to the men on the wall not to shoot, said he had a message for the commander. He was allowed to enter; it was Chuko Chin. When he had made his salutations and taken tea, he began his harangue.
“I come at the command of my master, Marquis Wu, to persuade you to a wise course. From of old it has always been recognised that the hero must bow to circumstances. The districts that you ruled have come under another, with the exception of this single city. Within, there is no food, without, no help, so that it must fall quickly. Wherefore, O General, why not hear me and join your fortunes to those of Wu? You shall be restored to your governorship and you will preserve your family. If haply, Sir, you would reflect thereon.”
Kuan Yü replied, quite calmly, “I am a simple soldier of Chiehliang. I am the ‘hands and feet' of my lord, his brother. How can I betray him? The city may fall, and then I can but die. Jade may be shattered, but its whiteness remains; bamboo may be burned, but its joints stand out. My body may be broken, but my fame shall live in history. Say no more, but leave the city, I beg. I will fight Sun Ch'üan to the death.”
“My master desires to enter into such a league with you as did Ts‘in and Chin in former days, that you may mutually assist to destroy Ts‘ao Ts‘ao and restore the Hans. That is his idea, and why do you persist in this wrong course?”
As he finished this speech, Kuan P‘ing, who was by, drew his sword to slay him. But his father checked him.
“Remember his brother is in Shu, helping your uncle. If you hurt him you will injure the principle of fraternity.”
He then bade his servants lead Chuko Chin away. He went, his face covered with shame, and left the city. When he reached his master he told of Kuan Yü's obduracy and rejection of all argument.
​“He is indeed a loyal servant!” said Sun Ch'üan. “Still, what is to be done next?”
“Take the sortes,” said Lü Fan.
So the lots were taken and explained to mean that the lord’s enemies should flee to a distance.
Then Sun Ch‘üan asked Lü Mêng, saying, “If he fly to a distance, how can he be captured?”
“The divination exactly fits in with my schemes,” replied he, “and though Kuan had wings to soar to the skies he would not escape my net.”
The dragon in a puddle is the sport of shrimps, The phoenix in a cage is mocked of small birds.
The scheme of Lü Mêng will be unfolded in the next chapter.