# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 91

CHAPTER IXC.
Sacrifice at Lu Shui; Homeward March; Attack on the Capital; Chuko‘s Memorial.
Mênghuo at the head of the Man Chieftains and Notables, with the Lolos, attended to do honour to the army of Shu on its departure. They reached the Lu waters in the ninth month. But on trying to cross the river a tremendous storm came and hindered them. The leader having reported his difficulty to Kʻung-ming, the king was asked if he knew of any reason for such a storm. He replied, “Wild spirits have always troubled those who would cross this river; it is necessary to propitiate them with sacrifices.”
“What is the sacrifice?” asked K‘ung-ming.
“In the old days when malicious spirits brought misfortune, they sacrificed men to the number of seven sevens and offered their heads. They also slew a black ox and a white goat. Sacrifice thus; the wind will subside and the waters come to rest. The same used to be done to secure a plenteous harvest.”
“How can I slay a single man without good reason now that fighting is done and peace has returned?” said K‘ung-ming.
He went down to the river to see for himself. The north wind was blowing hard, and the waves were high. Both men and horses seemed frightened. He himself was perplexed. Then he sought out some of the natives and questioned them. They said they had heard the demons moaning every night since he had crossed. The cries began at dusk and continued till dawn. There were many dark demons in the malarial vapours and no man dared cross.
“The sin is mine,” said K‘ung-ming, “for many of Ma Tai’s men perished in these waters beside the southern men. Their poor distressed souls are not yet freed. Therefore I will come this night and sacrifice to them.”
“According to the ancient rule the number of victims ought to be forty-nine; then the spirits will disperse,” said the natives.
“As the resentful demons are here because of the deaths of men, where is the sense in slaying more men? But this will I do. I will make balls of flour paste after the manner of human heads and stuff them with the flesh of oxen and goats. These shall be used instead of human heads, for indeed they be (punningly) called man-t‘ou, heads of Man.”
​By nightfall, an altar had been set up on the bank of the river with the sacrificial objects all arranged. There were also forty-nine lamps. Flags were flying to summon the souls. The man-t‘ou were piled up on the ground. In the middle of the third watch, at midnight, K‘ung-ming, dressed in Taoist garb, went to offer the sacrifice in person, and he bade Tung Chüeh read this prayer:—
“On the first day of the ninth month of the third year of the period Chien-Hsing of the Han Dynasty, I, Chuko Liang, Prime Minister of Han, Marquis of Wuhsiang, Governor of Ichou, reverently order this sacrifice to appease the shades of those men of Shu who have died in their country’s service and those of the southern men who have perished. I now declare to you, O ye shades, the majesty of my master, the Emperor of the mighty Han Dynasty, excelling that of the Five Feudatories and brilliantly continuing the glory of the three ancient kings. Recently, when the distant south rebelliously invaded his territory, contumeliously sent an army, loosed the venom of their sorcery, and gave free rein to their savagery in rebellion, I was commanded to punish their crimes. Wherefore my brave armies marched and utterly destroyed the contemptible creatures. My brave soldiers gathered like the clouds, and the insensate rebels melted away. Hearing of the easy successes I won, they were entirely demoralised. My army consists of heroes from the Nine Provinces and officers and men are famous in the empire; all are expert in war and skilled in the use of arms, they go whither light leads them and serve the king. All have exerted themselves to obey orders and carried out the plans for the seven captures of Mênghuo. They were whole-hearted in their service and vied in loyalty. Who could foresee that you, O Spirits, would be sacrificed in the strategy and be involved in the enemies' wicked wiles? Some of you went down to the deep springs wounded by flying arrows; others went out into the long night hurt by lethal weapons. Living you were valorous, dead you left behind a name.
“Now we are returning home. The victors' song is in our mouths and our prisoners accompany us. Your spirits are with us still and certainly hear our prayers. Follow the banners, come with the host, return to your country, each to his own village, where you may enjoy the savour of the meat offerings and receive the sacrifices of your own families. Do not become wandering ghosts in unfamiliar hamlets of restless shades in strange cities. I will memorialise our Emperor that your wives and little ones may enjoy his gracious bounty, every year gifts of food and clothing, every month donations for sustenance. Comfort yourselves with this provision.
“As for you, Spirits of this place, shades of the departed men of the south, here is the usual sacrifice. You are near ​home. Living you stood in awe of the celestial majesty, dead you come within the sphere of refining influence. It is right that you should hold your peace and refrain from uttering unseemly cries. With bowed head I pray you to partake of the sweet savour of this sacrifice.
“Alas, ye dead! To you this offering!”
K‘ung-ming broke into loud lamentations at the end of this prayer and manifested extreme emotion, and the whole army shed tears. Mênghuo and his also moaned and wept, and amid the sad clouds and angry mists they saw the vague forms of many demons floating away on the wind till they disappeared.
The material portion of the sacrifice was then thrown into the river. Next day the army stood on the south bank with a clear sky over their heads and calm waters at their feet, the clouds gone and the winds hushed; and the crossing was made without misadventure. They continued their way, whips cracking, gongs clanging, spurs jingling, and ever and anon the song of victory rising over all.
Passing through Yungch‘ang, Wang K‘ang and Lü K‘ai were left there in command of the four districts, and then Mênghuo was permitted to leave. He was ordered to be diligent in his administration, maintain good control, and soothe and care for the people left to him to govern and to see to it that agriculture was promoted. He took leave with tears rolling down his cheeks.
When the army neared the capital, the Latter Ruler came out in state to welcome his victorious minister. The king stood by the roadside as K‘ung-ming came up, and waited.
Kʻung-ming quickly descended from his chariot, prostrated himself and said, “Thy servant has offended in causing his master anxiety; but the conquest of the south was long.”
His lord took him kindly by the hand and raised him. Then the chariots of the king and his minister returned to Ch'êngtu side by side. In the capital were great rejoicings with banquets and rewards for the army. Henceforward distant lands sent tribute to the court to the number of two hundred.
As proposed in a memorial, the king provided for the families of the soldiers who had lost their lives in the expedition, and they were made happy. And the whole land enjoyed tranquillity.
The King of Wei, Ts‘ao P‘ei, had now ruled seven years, and it was the fourth year of the king’s reign in Shu. Ts‘ao P‘ei had taken to wife a lady of the Chên family, formerly the wife of the second son of Yüan Shao. He had discovered her at the sack of Yehch'êng and had married her. Shu bore him a son, Jui, also known as Yüan-chung, who was very clever and a great favourite with his father. Later he took as kuei-fei a daughter of one Kua Jung. She was a woman of exceeding ​beauty whom her father called “Queen of Women,” and the name stuck to her. But with her arrival at court the Lady Chên fell from her lord’s favour, and the kuei-fei's ambition led her to intrigue to replace the Empress. She took Chang T‘ao, a minister at the court, into her confidence.
At that time the king was indisposed, and Chang alleged that in the palace of the consort had been dug up a wooden image with the king’s date of birth written thereon, so that it represented him. It was meant to exercise a maleficent influence. Ts‘ao P‘ei in his anger put his consort to death; and he set up the kuei-fei in her place.
But she had no issue. Wherefore she nourished Jui as her own. However, loved as Jui was, he was not then named heir. When he was about fifteen Jui, who was an expert archer and a daring rider, accompanied his father to the hunt. In a gully they started a doe and its fawn. The king shot the doe, while the fawn fled. Seeing that the fawn’s course led past his son’s horse the king called out to him to shoot it. Instead the youth bursts into tears.
“Your Majesty has slain the mother; how can one kill the child as well?”
The words struck the king with remorse. He threw aside his bow, saying, “My son, you would make a benevolent and virtuous ruler.”
From this circumstance he decided that Jui should succeed, and conferred upon him the princedom of P‘ingyüan. In the fifth month the king fell ill, and medical treatment was of no avail. So the chief officers were summoned to the bedside of the king. They were Ts‘ao Ch'ên, Ch'ên Chün, Ssuma I. When they had come, the king’s son was called, and the dying king spake thus: “I am grievously ill, and my end is near. I confide to your care and guidance this son of mine; you must support him out of good feeling for me.”
“Why does Your Majesty talk thus?” said they. “We will do our utmost to serve you for a thousand autumns and a myriad years. ”
“No; I know that I am about to die,” said the king. “The sudden fall of the city gates was the omen, as I well knew.”
Just then the attendants said that Ts‘ao Hsiu had come to ask after the king’s health. They were told to call him into the chamber. When he had entered, Ts‘ao P‘ei said to him, “You and these three are the pillars and cornerstones of the state. If you will only uphold my son I can close my eyes in peace.”
These were his last words. A flood of tears gushed forth, and he sank back on the couch dead. He was forty years of age and had reigned seven years.
The four ministers raised the wailing for the dead and forthwith busied themselves with setting up Ts‘ao Jui as the ​Emperor of Ta Wei. The late king received the posthumous style of “Emperor Wên.” The new Emperor’s mother, the consort who had suffered death, was styled “Empress Wênchao.”
Honours were distributed freely in celebration of the new reign. Chung Yu was made T‘ai-fu; Ts‘ao Chên, General; Ta‘ao Hsiu, Minister of War; Hua Hsin a T‘ai-yu; Ssŭma I became a Cavalry General; and many others, conspicuous and ebscure, were promoted. A general amnesty was declared throughout all the land.
About this time a vacancy existed in the governorship of Yungchou and Hsiliang. Ssǔma I asked for the post and got it. He left for his new office as soon as he had received the appointment.
In due time the news of all these doings reached K‘ung-ming and perturbed him not a little. He was anxious, not because of the death of one ruler and the succession of another, but about Ssŭma I, who was very crafty, and who, in command of such forces as were in his two provinces, might prove a serious danger to Shu. He felt that this man ought to be attacked at once.
Ma Su spoke of this matter. “You, O Minister, have just returned from an arduous and exhausting expedition, and you should take time to recuperate before you undertake such another. However, I have a scheme by which Ts‘ao Jui may be brought to work the destruction of Ssŭma I. May I lay it before you?”
“What plan have you?” said he.
“The young king has no confidence in Ssŭma I although he is a high minister of state. Now send someone secretly to Loyang and Yehchün to disseminate reports that Ssuma is about to rebel. Further, prepare a proclamation in his name and post it up so as to cause Ts‘ao Jui to mistrust him and put him to death.”
K‘ung-ming adopted the suggestion. Whence it came about that a notice suddenly appeared on the city gate of Yehch'êng. The wardens of the gate took it down and sent it to Ts‘ao Jui. This is what it said: “I, Ssǔma I, Piao-chi Ta Chiang-chün, Commander of the Forces of Yung and Liang, confident in the universal principles of right, now inform the empire, saying, the Founder of this Dynasty, the Emperor Wu, established himself with the design of securing the empire to the son of Prince Ch'ên Ssă. Unfortunately, calumny spread abroad, and the Emperor could not manifest himself for many years. His grandson, Ts‘ao Jui, does not follow a virtuous course, though sitting in the high place, and has not fulfilled the great intention of his ancestor. Now I, in accordance with the will of Heaven and favouring the desires of the people, have decided upon a day to set my army in motion in order to secure ​the wish of the people, and when that day arrives I call upon each one to gather to his lord; and I will destroy utterly the family of any who shall disobey. You are hereby informed that you may all know.”
This document frightened the young king, and he turned pale. At once he called a council of his lords to consider it.
Hua Hsin said, “That was the reason for his having requested the governorship of the two provinces. Now the Founder of your House frequently said to me that Ssŭma I was ambitious and cruel, and should not be entrusted with military authority lest he harm the state. This is the first beginning of rebellion, and the author should be put to death.”
Wang Lang said, “Ssŭma I is a master of strategy and skilled in tactics. Moreover, he is ambitious and will cause mischief if he be allowed to live.”
Wherefore Ts‘ao Jui wrote a command to raise an army, which he would lead to punish the minister. Suddenly Ts‘ao Chên stood forth from the rank of military officers and said, “What you advise is impossible. His late Majesty confided his son to the care of certain officers of state, of whom Ssŭma I is one, wherefore it is certain that he felt sure of his probity. So far nothing is known certainly. If you hastily send an army to repress him, you may force him into rebellion. This may be but one of the base tricks of Shu or Wu to cause dissension in our midst so that occasion be found to further their own aims. As no one knows, I pray Your Majesty to reflect before you do anything.”
“Supposing Ssuma I really contemplates a revolt; what then?”
Ts‘ao Chên replied, “If Your Majesty suspects him, then do as did Han Kao-Tsu when, under pretence of taking a trip on the lakes Yün and Mêng he summoned his vassals—and seized Han Hsin, who had been denounced. Go to Ani; Ssŭma I will assuredly come out to meet you, and his actions and demeanour may be watched closely. He can be arrested if need be.”
Ts‘ao Jui changed his mind. Leaving Ts‘ao Chên to regulate the affairs of state, the young king went out with the Imperial Guards, to the number of ten legions, and travelled to Ani. Ignorant of the reason of his coming, and anxious to show off his dignity, Ssŭma I went to welcome his ruler in all the pomp of a commander of a great army. As he approached, the courtiers told the king that Ssuma I’s defection was certain since such a large army could only mean that he was prepared to resist. Whereupon Ts‘ao Hsiu, with a large force, was sent in front to meet him. Ssůma I distrusted this show of force, but he advanced alone and stood humbly by the roadside till Ts‘ao Hsiu came up.
​Ts‘ao Hsiu advanced and said, “Friend, His late Majesty entrusted you with the heavy responsibility of caring for his son; why are you in revolt?”
Ssuma I turned pale, and a cold sweat broke out all over him as he asked the reason for such a charge. Ts‘ao Hsiu told him what had occurred.
“This is a vile plot on the part of our rivals to cause dissension,” said he. “It is a design to make the Emperor work evil upon his ministers that thereby another may profit. I must see the Son of Heaven and explain.”
Ordering his army to retire, he went forward alone to the Emperor’s chariot, bowed low and said, weeping, “His late Majesty gave me charge of his son; could I betray him? This is a wile of the enemy. I crave permission to lead an army, first to destroy Shu and then to attack Wu, whereby to show my gratitude to the late Emperor and Your Majesty and manifest my own true heart.”
However, Jui did not feel quite convinced, and Hua Hsin said, “In any case withdraw his military powers and let him go into retirement.”
And thus it was decided. Ssŭma I retired to his native village. Ts‘ao Hsiu succeeded to his command, and Jui returned to Loyang.
K‘ung-ming rejoiced when they told him of the success that had attended the ruse.
“Ssuma I and the forces he commanded have been the obstacles in my long-wished-for attack on Wei. Now he has fallen I have no more anxiety.”
At the first great assembly of officers at court K‘ung-ming stepped forth and presented a memorial on the expedition he contemplated.
“The late Emperor had accomplished but half his great task at his death. At this moment the empire is in three parts, and our country is weak; it is a most critical moment for us. Still, ministers are not remiss in the capital, and loyal and devoted soldiers sacrifice their lives abroad, for they still remember the special kindness of the late Emperor and wish to show their gratitude to him by service to Your Majesty. Therefore it would be indeed fitting that you should extend your holy virtue to glorify his virtuous memory in the stimulation of the will of your purposeful officers. Your Majesty should not lose yourself in the pursuit of mean things, quoting phrases to confound the eternal principles of rectitude and so preventing remonstrance from honest men. One rule applies to the palace of the Emperor and the residence of a courtier; there must be one law rewarding the good and punishing the evil. Evil-doers and law-breakers, as also true and good men, should be dealt with according to their deserts by the officers concerned in order to manifest Your Majesty’s ​impartial and enlightened administration. Partiality is wrong, as is one law for the court and another for the provinces.
“The high officers Kuo Yu-chih, Fei I and Tung Yün are honest men, devotedly anxious to be loyal to the last degree; wherefore His late Majesty chose them in his testament. My advice is to consult them in all palace matters, great or small, before taking action. Your Majesty will reap the enormous advantage of having any failings corrected.
“General Hsiang Ch‘ung is a man of well-balanced temperament, versed in military matters, to whom, after testing him, the late Emperor applied the epithet 'capable.' The concensus of opinion is that he should be Commander-in-chief. My advice is to consult him in all military matters, great or small, whereby your military forces will yield their maximum, each one being employed to the best advantage.
“Attract worthy men; repel mean men. This policy achieved the glory of the Former Hans, while its reversal ruined the Latter Hans. When the late Emperor was with us he often discussed this with your servant, and he took much to heart the story of Huan and Ling.
“President Ch'ên Chên and Historian Chiang Wan are both incorruptible and enlightened men, honest to the death. I would that Your Majesty should have them near and hold them in confidence. If this be done, then the glory of the House of Han will be quickly consummated.
“I was originally a private person, a farmer in Nanyang, concerned only to secure personal safety in a troubled age and not seeking conversation with the contending nobles. His late Majesty, overlooking the commonness of my origin, condescended to seek me thrice in my humble cot and consult me on the trend of events. His magnanimity affected me deeply, and I consented to do my utmost for him. Then came defeat, and I took office at a moment of darkest outlook and at a most difficult crisis. This is twenty-one years ago. The late Emperor recognised my diligent care, and when dying he confided the great task to me. From that day I have lived a life of anxiety lest I should fail in my trust and so dim his glory. That is why I undertook the expedition to the wastes beyond the Lu River. Now the south has been quelled, and our army is in good condition. I ought to lead it against the north, where I may meet with a measure of success in the removal of the wicked ones, the restoration of Han and a return to the old capital. This is my duty out of gratitude to the late Emperor and loyalty to Your Majesty. As to a discussion of the pros and cons and giving a true version of the whole matter, that belongs to Kuo and Chiang and Tung. I desire Your Majesty to confide to me the task of slaying the rebels and restoring the Hans. If I fail, then punish me by ​telling the spirit of the late Emperor. If you know not what restoration implies that is the fault of your advisers.
“Your Majesty should take pains to be guided into the right path and examine carefully what is laid before you, carefully remembering the late Emperor’s testament.
“I cannot express what would be my delight if you had the goodness to accept and act on my advice.
“Now I am about to depart on a distant expedition I write this with tears and scarce know what I have said.”
The king read it through and said, “My Father-Minister, you have only just returned from a distant and fatiguing expedition; you are not yet refreshed, and I fear this march to the north will be almost too much even for you.”
K‘ung-ming replied, “The heaviest responsibility lies upon me, the well-being of Your Majesty confided to me by the late Emperor. My efforts may not be relaxed night or day. The south is at rest, at home is no anxiety; what better time could be hoped for to destroy the rebels and recover the capital?
Forth from the ranks of courtiers stood Chʻiao Chou and said, “I have studied the aspect of the stars; the northern quarter is brilliant and strong. The scheme will not speed.' Then turning toward the Prime Minister, he continued, “You, O Minister, understand the mysteries of the skies; why do you oppose the stars?”
“Because the stars are not in their courses,” replied K‘ungming; “they have been disturbed. One may rely on the stars too much. Moreover, I have already sent the army into Hanchung, where I shall act as soon as I have studied what is afoot.”
Ch‘iao Chou pleaded in vain; Kʻung-ming was too strongly set upon his purpose to yield. So Kuo Yu-chih, Tung Yun and Fei I were ordered to attend to matters in the palace; Hsiang Ch‘ung was to control all military affairs and forces. Many special appointments were made; Ch'ên Chên became Shih-chung; Chiang Wan became Ts‘an-chün; Chang I, Controller of the Prime Minister’s palace; Tu Ch‘iung was created Censor; Tu Wei and Yang Hung, Presidents; Mêng Kuang and Lai Min, Libationers; Yin Mo and Li Chuan, Po-shih; Ch‘i Chêng and Fei Shih, Private Secretaries; Ch‘iao Chou, a T‘ai-shih; and others to the number of over a hundred, all to control the administration of Shu in the absence of Chuko Liang.
After having received his Emperor’s command to lead an expedition against the north, K‘ung-ming returned to his palace and summoned the officers of the army to listen to the orders. And they came, and to each was appointed a duty in the great army of Chuko Liang, Commander-in-chief of the North-conquering Expedition, Prime Minister of Shu, Marquis of Wu-hsiang, Governor of Ichou, Director of Internal and External Affairs.
​Li Yen was given the task of guarding the country against Wu.
All being ready, a day was chosen for the start, the fifth year, the third month on the day ping-yen.
After the appointments had all been made, there came forward a veteran who had listened in vain for the duty assigned him.
“Old I may be,” said he, “yet have I still the valour of Lien P‘o, the heroism of Ma Yüan. Why am I thought useless any more than these two who refused to acknowledge old age?”
It was Chao Yün.
K‘ung-ming said, “I have lost my friend Ma Ch‘ao by illness since I returned from the south, and I feel as I had lost an arm. Now, General, you must own that the years are mounting up. Any slight lapse would not only shake the life-long reputation of yourself, but might have a bad effect on the whole army.”
Chao replied bitterly, “I have never quailed in the presence of the enemy from the day I first joined the late Emperor; I have ever pressed to the front. It is a happy ending for a man of valour to die on the frontier. Think you that I should resent it? Let me lead the van, I pray.”
K‘ung-ming used all his skill to dissuade the veteran, but in vain; he was set on it, threatening suicide if this honour was refused him. At last K‘ung-ming yielded on the condition that he would accept a colleague.
“I will go to help the veteran leader,” cried Têng Chih, without a moment’s hesitation. “I am not worth much, but I will help lead the attack on the enemy.”
Accordingly five companies of veterans were chosen for the advanced guard, and with them, to assist Chao Yün, went Têng Chih and half a score of lesser captains.
After the vanguard had set out, the main body marched by the north gate, the Emperor himself going to see his minister start. The farewell was taken ten li from the gate, in the face of the grand army with its banners and pennons flaunting in the wind, and spears and swords gleaming in the sun. Then they took the road leading to Hanchung.
Naturally, this movement was duly reported in Loyang at a court held by Ts‘ao Jui, when a minister said, “A report from the border stations says that Chuko Liang has marched thirty legions into Hanchung. Chao Yün and Têng Chih are leading the advanced guard.”
The report alarmed the king, and he asked who could lead an army to repel the advance. At once out spake one, saying, “My father died in Hanchung, and to my bitter resentment his death is unavenged. Now I desire to lead the army against Shu, and I pray that the armies west of the Pass may be given me for this purpose. As well as taking vengeance for my ​private wrong I shall render a service to the state. I care not what fate may befall me.”
The speaker was Hsiahou Yüan’s son Mou. He was by nature very impulsive and also very miserly. When young he had been adopted by Hsiahou Tun. When Hsiahou Yüan was killed by Huang Chung, Ts‘ao Ts‘ao had taken pity on him and married him to one of his daughters, Ching-ho (or Clear River), so that he was an Emperor’s son-in-law. As such he enjoyed great deference at court. But although he held a military commission, he had never been with the army. However, as he requested the command he was made Commander-in-chief to get the army ready to march.
The Minister Wang Lang spoke against the appointment, saying, “The appointment is wrong. Hsiahou, the “Son-in-law,” has never seen a battle and is unsuitable for this post, especially when his opponent is the clever and crafty Chuko Liang, a man thoroughly versed in strategy.”
“I suppose you have arranged with Chuko Liang to be his ally,” sneered Hsiahou. “Ever since I was a boy I have studied strategy, and I am well acquainted with army matters. Why do you despise my youth? Unless I capture this Chuko Liang I pledge myself never again to see the Emperor’s face.”
Wang Lang and his supporters were silenced. Hsiahou took leave of the King of Wei and hastened to Changan to get his army in order. He had a score of legions.
He would go to battle, take the signal flags in grip, But could he play the leader, he a lad with callow lip?
The next chapter will deal with this campaign.